by Lisa Plumley
She glanced down at the board. His basic strategy was one she had encountered before several times with Hring. His father’s son. She made the correct countermove and captured a piece. ‘Did you play much tafl when you were away?’
‘Once I managed to save a man’s life with a tafl game.’
‘Was he a good man?’ Kara leant forward, eager to know more about his life.
‘Better than me.’
‘Why? Why was he better?’ she asked.
‘He had simply been unlucky. He bore no shame of causing other men’s deaths.’
‘What was he to you?’
‘My lord. He had plucked me up from obscurity.’
‘Why did you play instead of him?’
‘He had a head injury. My shield had connected with his head. But then he was a hopeless tafl player and I knew if I won, I could bargain for our freedom. But if he lost, we were all dead.’
‘And you won.’ She saw from his face he had. ‘Did he forgive you? You saved his life.’
‘His wife and two children forgave me when I brought him home. But I had to find another master.’ He shrugged as if it was nothing. ‘Gudrun appears to be missing from the festivities.’
‘Gudrun departed this afternoon. I offered her a cottage.’ Kara noted the change of subject. Some day, he would trust her enough to tell her. ‘She is grateful for the cottage and has taken Virvir with her to fetch and carry.’
‘You sent Virvir with her? Interesting.’
‘On reflection, it seemed better than banishing him. He couldn’t stay at the hall. He has caused so much mischief since he arrived after his parents’ death ten months ago. The roof incident was the final straw.’
‘Banishment rarely works,’ Ash said, moving his king piece and neatly capturing one of her pieces. ‘He will have less time on his hands. Allow Rurik to see Virvir, Kara.’
‘Are you giving advice beyond the training ground now?’ Kara dropped her piece and hurriedly moved another one. ‘You must be joking. You know where his mischief led. They have to be kept separate. I won’t have that boy ruining my son.’
‘Our son.’ He raised his hand. ‘Hear me out. Please. Then you decide.’
Kara reluctantly nodded.
‘All you will do is to create temptation by forbidding something. Rurik will get used to defying you. Virvir is his best friend at the moment. I used to defy my father to see my friends.’
Kara rolled her eyes. ‘You’re spouting nonsense.’
He covered her hand with his. A warm current ran up her arm. ‘I speak from experience. Rurik needs time to create a new god to worship. In time he will see this Virvir for the false friend that he surely is, but you have to allow him the opportunity to make that discovery on his own.’
‘You? You want to be his new god?’ she enquired softly, clenching her hands together. She couldn’t allow her attraction to Ash to override her judgement. She knew what it was like to have Ash as a god and how he could destroy with casual indifference. ‘Do you still need to be worshipped?’
‘Hardly.’ He shrugged and moved another piece. ‘One of my men would be better. Someone he can look up to rather than a father who is lacking.’
‘And here you are, the person who saved a man’s life with a tafl match.’
‘Saxi might do,’ he said by way of answer. ‘He had children once. Right now Rurik spouts all sorts of nonsense about Virvir says this or that when he is holding his sword or bow wrong. He watched us in training this morning with your woman, rather than helping with the grain, and I took the opportunity to quiz him.’
Kara wrinkled her nose. Thora was supposed to have been keeping an eye on him. She supposed Thora couldn’t resist watching the warriors. And Ash had always been one to take advantage of opportunities. ‘Rurik doesn’t know how to hold a bow.’
‘I agree. His fingering is all wrong. He will never be able to kill any prey or hit any target beyond the barn door, if he continues to hold it in that way. But he insists that Virvir has shown him the true way.’
‘An accident in the making,’ Kara said, pressing her lips together and rapidly moving one of her pieces. Rurik had been using a bow and arrow without her permission. He had climbed without her permission. What else had he done?
‘You can see why he needs to be properly trained. He needs to learn not to point the arrow at anyone except if he is in battle.’ Ash neatly captured another of her pieces.
Kara frowned. This match was not turning out how she had planned. ‘He is too young, Ash.’
‘But he desperately wants to be a warrior and he is a boy. He wants to have a hero. A man to look up to. I’m not speaking about sending him into battle or off to sea, but giving him the skills to survive.’
‘How do you know so much about boys?’
He laughed. The rich sound warmed her down to her toes. ‘I was one once.’
‘What happened when your heroes turned out not to be what you thought they were? When they left you?’ she asked, concentrating on his face rather than on the board. Ash had to understand how it hurt when it turned out the hero you worshipped was simply ordinary and very flawed. She knew intimately how much that ached.
‘Are you asking for Rurik or for yourself?’ His fingers cupped her cheek.
‘I want to know if you remember the feeling,’ she said and kept her head absolutely still, resisting the temptation to turn her lips towards his palm.
‘It hurt,’ Ash admitted with a long sigh, releasing her. ‘You can’t protect Rurik from every hurt or sorrow, Kara. You will drive yourself mad. You need to relax and trust your son’s judgement. He is an intelligent boy. No one is perfect. It is wrong to make a man into a god and then hate him when he turns out to be a man. Now take your turn.’
Kara’s hand trembled on her king piece. It was easy for Ash to criticise. He only saw Rurik as he was now—well and strong. She had seen him struggle for his breath and the terrible colds he suffered each winter. She had nursed him through each illness until even her bones trembled with weariness.
‘I’ve lost interest in this game.’ She put down the piece. ‘There are a thousand things I need to do before I retire. Perhaps it is best we end it here.’
‘Running away won’t change the truth. I learnt that lesson long ago.’ Ash put his hands behind his head. ‘Are you giving up this easily? I never took you for someone who quit at the first sign of losing. It was one of the reasons I wanted to marry you in the first place. You never wanted to quit. Have you changed that much?’
Kara peered at the board. She could win, just. And he was right. She hated quitting and admitting defeat. ‘I’ve just begun to fight.’
She rapidly took one of his pieces to show that she could.
‘Good. Let me try this, Kara.’ He leant forward. ‘Let me follow my instinct with Rurik. I promise you only good will come of it. Give me permission. Let me fight for our son.’
How very like Ash! Agreeing to one thing and then asking for more. But she could understand why he asked it and at least he was asking.
‘The last time I let you follow your instinct, you were gone for seven years.’
‘Circumstances beyond my control.’ He gestured about him. ‘Had I known all this waited for me, I would have tried harder to get home.’
Something inside her melted. Ash had offered her an apology of sorts. And he liked it here. ‘I’ll take it into consideration.’
The firelight lit the planes in his face, highlighting his cheekbones. His eyes had turned into pools of the summer sea. He wore the identical expression as Rurik when he’d begged to be trained. ‘Please, Kara.’
Her heart tugged. She hated that Ash might be correct about Rurik and his hero-worship. And he was abiding by her decision, rather than begging forgiveness after the fact. It was a question o
f the lesser of two evils. ‘Very well, I won’t forbid Virvir, but it is up to you to keep Rurik safely occupied.’
‘Good.’ Ash expertly took her king piece. ‘This match is now mine.’
Kara stared at it in dismay. ‘How did you do that?’
A smile kissed his mouth. ‘My father taught you well, Kara, but I know that gambit that you used. You’re far too cautious and seek safety when it is an illusion. I waited for you to make a mistake. I never give up even when things appear blackest.’
‘You have no idea how I play.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘Not now.’
A muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘I’ve made a careful study over the past few days. You are a fascinating woman, Kara. Endlessly fascinating.’
Her mouth ached to be kissed. She kept her gaze on the board. ‘A warning that you don’t play fair?’
‘I prefer—taking advantage of every opportunity and having the patience to wait for the right one.’ He gave a half-smile. ‘It makes life easier.’
‘Are you trying to tell me something?’ Kara ground out. She hated that Ash considered her easy to understand. ‘If so, know I, too, learn from my mistakes. I tend not to repeat them.’
‘Am I a mistake?’
‘I haven’t decided.’ She saw a flash of hurt cross Ash’s face and remorse went through her. ‘However, you gave me Rurik and he could never be a mistake.’
‘Then you agree to a match tomorrow night, so you can show me how wise you’ve become overnight?’
Kara winced. She’d intended to find an excuse. ‘I accept your challenge.’
‘Good. I look forward to testing your skill to the limit. We are well matched, even if you refuse to see it.’ Ash reached for the pitcher of ale and poured a glass. ‘The skald should sing other songs. Something a bit more pleasing to the ear.’ He mentioned one of the sagas she used to love.
She shook her head. ‘The hour is late and the song is long. I need my rest.’
‘Then I wish you pleasant dreams. Remember the choice of venue for our match is yours.’
Kara was intensely aware of his gaze on her mouth. Her lips ached as if he passionately kissed them.
‘Here will be sufficient. No wagers—I’ve seen how you play.’
‘If I’d truly wanted you off balance, there were other ways. I’ll allow you your illusions for now.’ His low voice followed her out of the room.
* * *
Once Kara reached her chamber, she halted and sunk down to her knees, disgusted at how her body hummed with desire for his touch. She couldn’t risk her heart. Not again. Denying the attraction was practically impossible, but her heart shattering again was worse. Ash was far from dependable. She tried to recite the litany of his failings, but kept finding reasons why they no longer applied. She breathed deeply and knew the night would be a fight against dreaming about him and how good they could be together.
* * *
‘My lady!’ Thora burst in the kitchen where Kara supervised the bread-making several mornings later. ‘They have begun the training early. Your son has a sword, a proper long sword.’
‘A sword? Yesterday it was only a stick.’ Kara looked up from her portion of bread dough. Ash should have asked her before he put a sharp blade in her son’s hands. She thought he would have discussed it with her first, perhaps during their nightly tafl matches. So much for his easy words about consulting her.
She slammed her fist against the bread dough. Less than a week and he’d reverted to type. Would she never learn—words came easy to Ash and then he did precisely what he pleased. It would be no coincidence that Ash had started the training early. He probably hoped to keep it a secret.
‘I thought you’d want to know. It is a pleasure to watch the sell-swords train. The way their muscles bulge when they fight... A feast for the eyes.’
Kara hurriedly cleaned her hands. ‘Yes, thank you. Take over the kneading, please.’
Kara picked up her skirts and ran to the practice yard. The various sell-swords were busy training and several of the women had found excuses to watch. She clapped her hands and immediately they turned away and started to be busy about their tasks again.
In the centre, Ash stood with Rurik. Rurik struggled to lift a sword nearly as tall he was. Its overly sharpened blade gleamed. One false move and Rurik could get cut or worse. She frantically signalled to Ash to halt.
‘Ash! Ash! Rurik is too little! Stop this nonsense immediately.’
‘Watch and decide!’
‘But...!
‘You promised to give me a chance! Give it!’
Ash kept his gaze on Rurik, but saw Kara sit down in a huff. His neck muscles tensed. He wanted to get this right not only for Rurik, but to prove to Kara that he could be trusted. If she wouldn’t trust him with this, how could he get her to trust the marriage?
It was important that Rurik learn he needed to grow before he could use a sword. This morning he’d discovered his son standing with a sword and spouting nonsense to various kitchen boys. He had no idea where Rurik had found the sword, but Rurik needed to learn that such weapons were not toys and must be treated with the proper respect.
‘Reach like this, Rurik, not like you were doing before. You will lose your sword before the battle truly begins.’ Ash showed Rurik how to properly lunge with the sword for the tenth time. ‘You wanted to use a sword for today’s practice. Let’s see what you can do.’
The boy’s face narrowed with concentration as he copied each of the easy moves that Ash showed him. His entire being glowed.
Kara did not move from where she sat, but watched very move. Every time he glanced over, her face appeared more set. Beautiful, but judgemental and cold. His heart plummeted. Surely she had to see what he was doing—making sure his son knew how to respect a sword. He knew in his heart that it was the correct thing to do. He would beg her forgiveness if it came to it.
‘When will I be able to fight for real?’ Rurik asked, wiping sweat from his happy face. ‘Warriors need to fight other warriors. It is what they do. With proper swords. Hacking each other until the blood comes and I get scars.’
‘Who told you that?’ Ash enquired mildly, guessing the answer.
‘Virvir. He said that I couldn’t be a true warrior unless I fought. Scars are the sign of a true warrior.’
‘And when did he tell you this?’
Rurik tucked his head. ‘Last night. We arranged it. I wanted to show him what I’d learnt. He called it babyish.’
It didn’t surprise Ash that Rurik had found a way to see his friend. He hoped that within a few weeks, once Rurik began to properly train, he would see Virvir for the braggart and bully that he was. But he had to go slow. ‘Is Virvir a warrior?’
Rurik considered it. ‘No, but he knows a lot of special things. He listens when people think he isn’t there. What I’m doing is baby stuff. Real warriors use swords.’
‘And how did Virvir get in?’
‘Through the kitchens. And he told me where to find my grandfather’s weapons. It is very easy to take the sword.’
Ash knelt down beside his son, glad of the intelligence. He would ensure the weapons were moved immediately. If Virvir knew, others would.
‘The next time he tells you something, you come to me and ask if it is true, before taking a weapon.’ He put his hand on Rurik’s shoulder. ‘I have fought in more battles than he has and no longer have to listen to rumours.’
Rurik blinked. ‘You are not angry that I saw him? Mor will be. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, Virvir said. It was to be our secret and now I’ve told.’
Ash glanced over his shoulder towards where Kara sat, face thunderous. Her two dogs lay at her feet. The autumn sunlight highlighted her golden hair and kissed her skin. He felt the now-familiar tug of attraction towards her. How could one w
oman be so attractive and maddening at the same time? What more could he do to show he was worthy of a place in her bed? Each time he got closer, she seemed to slip out of his grasp. He needed the final key to unlock her passion, but he was fresh out of ideas. It had to be something simple.
He glanced down at Rurik. ‘If you know you might make your mother unhappy, why do you do it?’
‘Otherwise I’d never get to do anything. I’m not a baby. I want to do things and Virvir knows everything.’
‘There is more to being a warrior than thirsting after glory or recounting stories. A warrior uses his head as well as his strength. Lift that sword and no complaining. I promised I’d make you into a warrior, but you have to trust me.’
Rurik nodded and lifted the sword again. His small arms trembled with the exertion and he dropped the sword almost immediately. ‘I...I...’
‘Again, Rurik,’ Ash said.
The session would be shorter than usual so that Rurik wasn’t completely exhausted, but it would have to be carefully done as the last thing he wanted to imply was that Rurik was too weak. Rurik bristled when anyone suggested that he was sickly or somehow not up to the task. His son was a fighter, which Ash thanked the gods for, but that fight had to be channelled correctly. He had seen far too many men make mistakes in anger.
‘Rurik is tired,’ Kara called out from where she sat when Rurik failed to lift the sword for the third time. ‘Ash, he must come inside and have a rest.’
Rurik shook his head. ‘I’m not the baby Mor thinks I am.’
‘Rurik needs to lift the sword first,’ Ash called back. ‘Go on, lift the sword over your head. Show your mother you can do it.’
Rurik redoubled his efforts, planted his feet firmly and lifted the sword. For a heartbeat, it hung in the air as Rurik staggered.