“Aye. My wife eats scrawny boys for supper.” Eoghann grinned. “You'll take us to Blanid, but there will be no more threats.”
Leofric nodded. “All right, all right. This way and do nae tarry.” He trotted into the woods on the opposite side of the road.
“What of your horse?” Ealasaid waved to Birgir who emerged, cradling Fulla in the crook of his elbow and leading the other two horses.
“I doubt he went far.” He whistled, but the odds of the beast returning weren't in his favor. Thank Christo he had the gold on him.
Leofric appeared amid the spindly brush. “Are ye comin' or nae? We cannae wait around on horses all day. I've got tae return soon.”
Eoghann retrieved Idunna's knife. “Fine throwing.”
“I had brothers, you know. Despite me being oldest, they were able to teach me a thing or two.” She accepted the blade. “Are you injured?”
He shook his head. “Bruised, but not hurt. I told you both to remain behind me.”
“I suspect the only way to get Ealasaid to stay behind is to tie her up. Even then she'd find away to get loose. It's no use trying to hold her back.” Idunna smiled. “You needed us in any case.”
“Not for this. I'd have drawn on him before he could stab me. Insolent child.” His shoulder throbbed steadily. Christo, if the log had hit him in the head, his brains would be splattered across the road.
They took a long, winding path through the bare-limbed trees. Fog shrouded the ground, blueish-gray as it hovered over decaying leaves and a crust of snow. Despite the cold, sweat broke out on Eoghann's forehead. The game trail Leofric picked out wended its way uphill until it broke from the tree cover. The horses had no trouble navigating the path. Eoghann tried not to huff as he followed on foot.
A river curled through dormant grass below them. Eoghann's breath caught.
Ealasaid leaned in her saddle and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Do you know where we are?”
From that spot years ago, they'd witnessed the snapping black sails of the Bloody Raven's longships rowing upriver to Suibhne. His legs burned from the climb, but that night, they'd ached from running to reach the Kentigern's doorstep so he could issue a warning. The news had come too late to be useful.
“I never imagined seeing this hillside again.” His voice came out in a croak. “Even as Diarmaid moved an army across Northumbria, I couldn't picture this.”
“It hasn't changed. The only difference from that night is the absence of spring.” Ealasaid wiped at her eyes. “This was our favorite hillside the play on, Birgir.”
He took her hand and stared down at the river. “This is where Da's people came up to invade Suibhne.” His solemn gaze was shadowed by his heavy eyelids. “I'm sorry, Ma.”
“There's nothing to be sorry for. We have a good life now, don't we?” She smiled. “And better still, Uncle Eoghann found us. As much as I loved Suibhne, Solstad is our home. This is a temporary visit.”
Eoghann hated the hurt on his sister's face, but when he glanced at Idunna, he saw her pity as she met his gaze. Some of Ealasaid's bittersweet emotion must have showed on his face as well.
“Leofric, lead us to Blanid.” He turned from the river, toward the direction the hall had once stood.
“Of course, your lordship.” Leofric gave a mock bow. “Right this way.”
A thought stopped Eoghann. With his father and brothers gone, he was indeed the kentigern, chief of Suibhne. That was a position he'd never wanted for himself.
Chapter Eleven
Many times Eoghann's face changed into a blank stone Idunna couldn't decipher. It happened again as Leofric showed them the river. She studied her husband, but no hint of emotion gave her any idea what to say.
Although Leofric meant the title as an insult, and Eoghann could have killed him for it, there was truth in the statement. Eoghann was lord of Suibhne and its holdings. If there were any left. That made her a chief's wife, a woman of important standing, but she couldn't find any joy in the position. Too much uncertainty muddied her thoughts.
The group carried on along a narrow path that led down the hill again toward a gathering of small huts made of sticks and mud. She'd never seen anything like it. Even the Scot village had some similar features of the settlements she knew. This was...bare, dejected, and devoid of comfort.
Great rotting beams of wood burned black lay scattered beyond the huts. The remains of the Kentigern's home. Dead weeds rose between rocks that had surely made up the walls to the place Eoghann and Ealasaid had once lived.
An older man Leofric's height and coloring paused from his task of gutting a squirrel. He rose, body coiled, expression hard. “Who are these people?”
“These two,” Leofric pointed at Eoghann and his sister, “claim tae be Kentigerns.”
The man's jaw dropped. His posture softened. “Nay, impossible. The Kentigerns are dead.”
“Said the same thing, I did. Nae only that, Da, but she says she's a Norse queen on top of it. Married tae Hella Ingvasson.”
“Ingvar's offspring. Maybe the gods curse him.” The man spat on the ground. “Why did ye bring them here, boy?”
“The vikingr woman threw a knife at me. 'Bout killed me. They demanded tae come. Want tae see Blanid.”
“Enough. I will see Blanid this instant.” Ealasaid pushed in front of Eoghann. “And you will feed us, for we've come a long way seeking shelter in our homeland. We have the babe to care for. She needs a warm place to rest. All of us do.”
Leofric's father squinted at her. “By gods, she does resemble the Kentigern's wife Isolde.”
“My mother would be appalled by the lack of manners and respect shown to her children in their own homeland.” Ealasaid pinched her lips together.
A full-figured redheaded woman stood in the doorway of one of the huts. Her gaze darted back and forth before her expression turned pensive. Redness blossomed on her cheeks.
“Get Grandmother.” The man nodded at Leofric. “Forgive us, travelers. We do nae see many people seeking Suibhne unless they wish tae raid and take what little we have. Come gather at the fire, take off the chill.”
Eoghann gripped the sword. Too many times he'd been welcomed in the beginning, only to be betrayed before night fell. Although the man seemed genuinely concerned for them, who knew his real intent.
The man passed the squirrel to the woman. “I beg your pardon, but which of the Kentigern's offspring are ye?”
“Eoghann and Ealasaid. The boy is Ealasaid's son, heir to the throne in Solstad.” Eoghann nodded at Idunna. “My wife Idunna, Norse born, and our charge, Fulla, daughter of the former jarl and frú of Freysteinn. And you?”
“Aethelred, son of Alfghed. Blanid is my wife's grandmother. We've tried hard tae make a living in the ruins of Suibhne while keeping the ways of the Kentigern. And while keeping out of the way of the vikingr scourge.”
Birgir scowled. “We're not a scourge.”
“Quiet,” Ealasaid muttered. “You're of two worlds. Don't forget which one you're in now.”
“If I may, how is it that ye survived?” Aethelred studied Eoghann. “How are ye free?”
“She's the queen, Da. Married in with the mongrels and betrayed her blood.” Leofric returned and folded his arms. “Cyneburg is bringing Grandmother. She's beside herself, gushing both tears and prayers.”
Aethelred smacked his palm against the back of his son's head. “Ye do nae talk about yer lady with such a sharp tongue.”
Leofric rubbed the spot. “I beg your pardon, sire, lady.”
“This once,” Eoghann grumbled. He couldn't have them believing he was weak. They might yet try to steal his valuables and kill his family. “Next time, I shall take it out of your flesh.”
The boy paled.
An old woman and a young girl came out of a distant hut. They shuffled slowly across the hard ground.
“Gods.” Ealasaid wrang her hands together. “It is Blanid.”
The thin old crone hobbling toward them b
arely resembled the woman Eoghann remembered. White wisps of hair floated around the woman's time-worn face. Her posture told the story of someone who had endured hard labor and loss.
Idunna moved closer to his side. “Who is she?”
“She taught Ealasaid everything she knows of herbs and plants. There wasn't a leaf around us she couldn't identify.”
“If she's blind, how will she know you?” Idunna drew her cloak around her shoulders. “What if they decide we're unwelcome here? Hella couldn't have known there were other survivors from the raid. Could he?”
“Seems doubtful. I never suspected. There was much chaos in the days following it.” Somehow Blanid and her family had hidden after the Norsemen tore through Suibhne. Why had no one sought out the Kentigern's children?
The old woman's sightless eyes sent a chill over his flesh that had nothing to do with winter winds. Tears cut a path down her wizened face.
“We thought the Kentigern's line perished that night. Keavy died beside Kirsteen. Artair fell at the old wall. The vikingrs bore away slaves, yes, but we did not believe they were the sons and daughters of our chief.” Her voice shook as she spoke. When she stopped, her chin continued to tremble. “Ealasaid and Eoghann. The gods have returned you to us.”
Eoghann drew in a sharp breath. Keavy was dead too. Though he hadn't been close with her, she was still his sister.
“It's us, Blanid. We never expected to return. At least, I never did. Eoghann and Diarmaid planned to reclaim Suibhne.” Ealasaid's voice cracked. “When I was a girl, I thought you ancient. I should have known you were still alive and well.”
The two embraced, sobbing and murmuring how glad they were to be reunited.
“What of Diarmaid? Neila and Aileen?” Blanid wiped her tears away. “Have you any notion of what became of the twins?”
Eoghann's stomach turned. “Diarmaid is gone.”
Blanid clucked her tongue, then shook her head. “That makes you the lord of Suibhne, Eoghann.” She put out her hands, seeking him.
He allowed her to touch him, chest first, arms, then she reached up to his face. “Ah, so much like your father, that handsome man. And have you a wife?”
“Idunna Fundinsdottir. One of the Danes.”
Idunna's cheeks burned bright red. She lifted her chin, then glared at him.
He reached for her hand and folded his fingers between hers. “She saved my life, Móðir. I'm proud to call myself her husband.”
“You brought her here? Among your old people, to your homeland? What is the purpose of this?” Blanid flared her nostrils as though trying to scent Idunna.
“In good time. We're weary. It's a long ride from Ofan to Suibhne.”
Birgir stood near his mother, his eyes wide as he took in the remains of the village. He cast an uncertain look at Leofric, then edged closer to Idunna. When he reached out, he caressed Fulla's face.
“The boy is Ealasaid's son, heir to Solstad, Freysteinn, Ofan, Engkeld, and Thokaby. He is a prince and will be treated as such. With us is our charge Fulla, daughter of a powerful jarl who died defending his home. If there is food, we would dine with you. If there's shelter, we would care to rest our bones in it. I will not force you to accept us, but as your chief's son, I pray you will extend your courtesy.”
Blanid clucked her tongue again. “Listen to him. His father's son, sure enough. Polite, but firm. Aethelred, gather your things. You're staying in my hut so our chief and his wife will have a place to rest their heads. Cyneburg, fetch Cola and have her move her things in with her sister's family. The Norse queen requires accommodation.” Blanid smiled, revealing toothless gums. “Tonight we have reason to celebrate once more.”
* * * *
Gaps in the cracks between the sticks making up the hovel let in cold air, but a pile of furs sufficed for a bed in front of a bright fire. Idunna shed her cloak and warmed her hands. Again, it lacked the comfort of Solstad Hall, but anything was better than sleeping in the open another night.
“Would it not make more sense to build a longhouse and share space instead of small, separate homes?” She ran her fingers over a clay crock. An intruder in another woman's home, she hesitated to move anything. With luck, they wouldn't be here long.
“People live in small houses in the vikingr villages too.” Eoghann didn't look away from the fire. “Did you not share a home with Ask?”
Heat crept up her face. “Yes, but—”
“These people are not your enemies, Idunna. I did not bring you here to force you to live with my kin.”
Her heart dropped. Their time on the road hadn't allowed them privacy to talk, but she thought distance might have mended the rift she'd created the night they fled. Perhaps they could ignore it and everything would fall to rights again. Apparently she'd been wrong.
“I am aware. You did what was necessary. What Hella believed would save his family.”
“Yet you still resent me for it.” He met her gaze. “Why is it so difficult for you to believe I don't long for my old life? That I felt myself settling into my role among your people?”
“Because...because...” No answer lighted on her tongue. “I beg your forgiveness for what I said in Solstad. Remember our parting? Discovering Ask had died in the Battle of Freysteinn made me numb, Eoghann, but watching you ride away with Hella tore my heart in two. I was pleased when you returned, until you started rambling about a plan to escape. It frightened me. What was I supposed to think when you sneaked into the hall at dark?”
“You're supposed to trust your husband.” His voice was quiet, barely louder than the fire's crackle. “Is that so difficult? If I were born of Norse blood, would you have believed me then?”
She bit her tongue.
“I don't need to ask to know the truth. It's clear to me.” He removed his cloak. With ginger, exaggerated movements, he pulled the chainmail over his head. It fell with a rattle.
She wanted to argue, but concern overtook her emotions. “Your shoulder?”
“Painful, thanks to Leofric's trick.” He tugged his tunic up his torso, then tossed it over the mail. A dark purple bruise stretched across the hard muscles of his shoulder and chest.
She grimaced. “I could see if Blanid has comfrey. It may ease the pain.”
“What remedy does she have for my heart?” He extended his arm. The tiniest grimace moved across his face. “Don't trouble yourself. I have no doubt we'll soon be visited by the other inhabitants who are curious to see the returning Kentigerns. There isn't time for worrying about such small matters.”
Stung, she hugged herself. “How many times must I apologize before you forgive me?”
“If your first husband gave the order for you to run away from your home, would you have followed him without question?”
“You are not Ask.” Idunna curled her hands into her gown. “Listen to me—”
“I'm not Ask. Now do you regret marriage to a lowly Saxon dog? I've dragged you away from all the comforts and people you've known. Cast you into a place where you do not fit in among the people. Do you have reason to hate me yet, wife?”
She lashed out and laid her palm against his cheek. It connected with a crack.
Eoghann drew back, his face flushed and his eyes betraying his disbelief.
“Why must you goad me? I have no regrets. By continuing to ask, you insult my choice. I grow weary of discussing it, as though you believe my heart will change under the slightest pressure.” Her palm stung from the slap and she rubbed it to ease the discomfort. “You may continue to punish me with silence or indifference, but you have my loyalty, even in times of doubt. If you say coming here saved Ealasaid and Birgir, then it is so.”
“Good, then let that be the last said of it.” His voice came out gruff. A white hand print stood out against his tanned cheek. “I did not mean to insult your choice. You are a kind, beautiful woman. A man could do far worse.”
“Soft words will not win me back so easily.” She folded her arms. “A proper apology is
in order.”
He gathered her against his chest. “You slapped me, woman.”
“A tap for a seasoned warrior such as yourself.” What had come over her? She only wanted him to listen, to stop degrading himself. Her action had been unwarranted. “I apologize for that. In all the time I lived with my parents, I never once saw them strike one another. I should not have acted so rashly. It was wrong.”
“I hardly felt it.” He tightened his hold around her waist. “But I accept and believe you will not do it again. As for the other—it belittles you when I ask if you're sorry for our union. I shall mind my tongue and never question you again. Can you forgive me?”
“Aye. How could I not?” She ducked her head. “My heart belongs to you. Even when I'm angry, it's yours.”
“No more fortunate man lives in Northumbria or all of Briton than me.” He put his hand beneath her chin to lift her face. “My heart is yours as well, Idunna.”
A thrill charged through her body. “Truly?”
He nodded.
The gods had given him back, although their situation fell far from perfect. They were together and nothing else mattered. She would face whatever came at his side.
“There wasn't time to tell you how much I missed you.” She reached up, then pushed her hands through his hair. “To express my happiness over your return.”
The furs beckoned. His naked skin brushed the soft linen of her apron. Behind the cloth, her nipples perked into hard points.
“I should like to kiss each of your battle wounds, my chief.” Her fingers brushed the near-healed scrape on his cheek. “To show my appreciation for your bravery and service to the king.”
“If you must.” Affection softened his ice blue gaze. “It would be inconsiderate to refuse such attention.”
“Oh, aye.” Idunna stretched on her toes. Her lips touched the rough scrape. Slowly, she pressed kisses to his neck, along his collarbone, but hesitated over his bruised shoulder. “We should tend this.”
“Later.” Eyes half hooded, he forced the word through his teeth. His muscles coiled and behind the shield of his trows, his erection strained for freedom.
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