* * * *
Eoghann shut the hut door. The cold wind bit his skin, sloughing away the warmth of the fire from Ealasaid's resting place.
Idunna waited for him. Her cheeks were red from the cold, but the rest of her face was pale. “What did she say?”
He shrugged. “Nothing of importance. She's weary from traveling and the poor fare. Give her a day or two. She'll be herself again. I'm sure of it. I've often seen men fatigued by long travels.”
“It's my great hope.” She toyed with the pin holding her cloak closed. “Is she resting now?”
“Asleep. She misses her husband and that alone is a trial for her.” The tight knot of anxiety in his chest made a nagging reminder that Hella would kill him if Ealasaid died. He'd do worse if he learned she believed Eoghann should reclaim Suibhne and become its ruler. Most likely Eoghann would be subject to torture, death, and dismemberment. Not necessarily in such a neat order.
Hella would never allow treason to stand. Not even from his wife.
“You are distressed.” Idunna touched his arm.
“She's my—”
“Sister, yes, but there's something else.” Her beautiful brown eyes searched his face. “Can I help?”
“I don't believe so. I'm going to collect Birgir and we will have a look around to see what can be salvaged to help the people rebuild. We can't do much during this weather, but we may find some work.”
She nodded. “Take care.”
“I will.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her covered head. “Come for me if she worsens.”
He waited until she'd gone inside to set off in a direction opposite of the hut where he'd left his nephew. Away from Blanid and her ridiculous predictions about his fate. But straight to the fallen, shattered remains of his former hall.
The foundation stood. Good, hard granite cut from the ground and stacked to build the first Kentigern's home. He hadn't known his father's father, but Da had told tales of the man who carved a settlement from the wilderness. Einon Darkmane had fought Romans in his homeland, but had been forced away. His journey had carried him north. When he lay the roots for Suibhne, he vowed never to be homeless again. He'd married a Scottish woman, taken the name Kentigern, which meant chief, and passed it to his son. What terrible ruin his ancestors had come to.
Eoghann lowered himself to one of the crumbling rocks in the wall. Beside him, the massive timbers that had once held up the roof lay splintered and charred. He'd said it before—nothing remained in Suibhne for him. Yet old Blanid refused to give up.
What would I do if I reclaimed the settlement? I desire nothing more than a forge, my wife, and a few children.
A twig snapped behind him. Eoghann turned, sought the source of the noise, but saw nothing in the clearing. His sore shoulder twinged. A reminder of what ruling brought a man—nothing but hardship and other lords seeking to claim what was his. His sword hung heavy at his hip. A bitter reminder that peace wouldn't be found here.
Perhaps it was only attainable in his wife's arms. He rested his head in his hands. Idunna. Worried and rightly so. They'd come seeking refuge, found it, but even he remained wary of the people who claimed to be his father's subjects. So many decisions, so many dangers in the world. Ealasaid's illness affected her mind. When she regained her health, her sense would return. The boy Eoghann had been, who wanted to be an emperor, had vanished long ago.
Leaves rustled behind him.
He rose, spun, then half drew his sword before a large buck hart bolted from the tall, dry grass. It raced across the clearing and disappeared into the scrubby trees.
Something besides him had startled the creature.
He waited, heart pounding, but the area remained silent.
It might only be Leofric, spying, playing games to frighten Eoghann. Or...one of Ofbradh's loyalists, waiting to attack.
He'd alert Aethelred, tell him to keep a close eye on the hut where Ealasaid and Idunna stayed. No harm could come to those he loved.
He allowed the sword to slide back to its safe position in the sheath. After a moment's hesitation, he removed it entirely. Carrying it low in front of him, he swept the blade through the grass. Long strands whispered around him as he walked back to the main path.
The time had come to do what he promised. Scout the area, find anything that might help this struggling village survive. Be a leader, though not for long. As the Kentigern's son, it was his duty to help where he could. Hella might be able to do more, if the villagers would allow him. They might balk, depending on whether they believed his intentions to be good or selfish. Eoghann had never imagined himself as the mediator between two peoples who had reason to hate one another. Strange, the positions life sometimes offered. Somewhere, the Norse gods or the Christian one laughed at his plight.
The gray sky mocked his every step with the threat of new snow. But why should he expect anything to come easily?
Chapter Fourteen
Curse the bitter wind and thin walls. Idunna unfolded her knees, then rose. Stiff from sitting on the floor, she paused a moment to stretch. Hours had passed since Eoghann departed. Poor Ealasaid had slept off and on, but now she tossed, restless.
Idunna placed her hand over Ealasaid's forehead. Hot. Much worse than before. A cold chill swept down Idunna's back. They hadn't prepared for illness. The herbs Ealasaid had packed were already stretched too far to be any help for long.
They needed more herbs.
“I'll return in a moment, Ealasaid. I must find your brother.”
Ealasaid murmured and turned her face away.
Idunna threw her cloak around her shoulders, then stepped into the cold, dark night. The stars glowed, silver pricks of light against the velvety black. As out of reach as Solstad.
“Do ye need assistance, milady?” A man came from the shadows, bundled in his cloak. His voice was low, gentle, but startled her nevertheless. “The Kentigern bid me watch over yer dwelling till he was able tae return. I'm Judoc.”
She took a step backward, then cursed herself for her cowardice. “I need my husband.”
“I can escort ye tae him.” Judoc, squatty and square, nodded away from the hut. “He's nae far.”
“I should find him myself.”
“I ken he'd prefer ye didn't wander alone at night. There's nae much tae fear. Too cold for raiders and we've hardly any wolves left, but 'tis easy tae become lost in the night.” He moved away from the hut. “Come along. I reckon the Kentigern's sister is still unwell?”
She swallowed, then nodded. “That's why I need Eoghann. She's a bit worse.”
“Have ye asked Blanid or Hild for medicines?”
“No.” She curled her hands into her cloak. “I don't think Blanid cares for me much.”
He frowned. “I was but a small child when the vikingrs came. Father grabbed me and my sister, hauled us tae the woods. In all my days, I do nae think I'll ever forget the smell of burning flesh.”
Nor would the memories of the Battle of Freysteinn leave her mind. “I'm sorry for the troubles Suibhne has faced, but they were not my doing.” She shouldn't have to apologize for it. From the rumors, Ingvar had been a terrible man who delighted in making others suffer.
“I know, milady. Perhaps we won't have to bother Blanid. Hild is as good with herbs as her grandmother. We can get her.” He led her around other huts, then halted before one. After a quick rap, he stepped back.
Hild answered. A small child clung to her skirt. “Aye? Judoc. My lady.” She inclined her head to Idunna. “Wee Fulla is fast asleep.”
“I'm glad she's resting, but I didn't come for her. Ealasaid has not improved. I wondered if you had any vervain?” Idunna bit the inside of her lip.
Hild's face fell. “No, my lady. It didn't fare well this summer. There's little or none in this village.”
“I see.” She squared her shoulders. “But perhaps I could buy some from the Scots?”
Hild's eyes widened. “You can't go there tonight. The ride is too far. I hav
e a bit of yarrow and ginger. That should tide Ealasaid until morning.”
“If I could have it, I would be in your debt, Hild.”
“Come in. I'll fetch it for you.” Hild stepped aside, permitting entrance. “It will only take a moment. There's hot mead if you like.”
“No, I shouldn't delay.” But she was captivated by Fulla, sleeping near the fire in a bundle of blankets. She couldn't resist touching the baby's rosy cheek. While Hild shooed her younger children out of the way, Idunna checked to make sure Fulla was dry and warm enough.
“She's a dear.” Hild offered two pouches of herbs. “Much loved, I gather.”
“By all who meet her.” Idunna hesitated to leave the baby. “Orphaned in the battle of Freysteinn. Ealasaid and I have cared for her every moment since her birth.”
“With a handsome husband like Eoghann, I shouldn't doubt that you'll have one of your own to cuddle soon.” Hild smiled. “How his face softened when you joined us this morning. It must be deep love.”
Idunna hoped her shock didn't show. “It's an unusual arrangement between us.”
“Marriage often is.” Hild shooed her toward the door. “Take care of the Kentigern's sister. She must be in good health when her husband arrives. It's important he knows we welcomed you here. Old rivalries must be cast aside at some point.”
“Indeed.” Idunna clutched the herb pouches. “You have my thanks for the help. And should you need anything, I am happy to assist you.”
“I pray the rest of the night passes easily for you, milady.”
Touched by the other woman's kind words, Idunna smiled. Hild had no reason to like or accept her, but she'd helped regardless. “I shall return to check on Fulla tomorrow. Kiss her good night for me.” She waved as she departed.
Judoc led her back to the hut. “I hope the herbs work. There has been too much tragedy here. Every life is valuable, whether Saxon or Dane.”
She'd been fearful of him at first, caught off guard by his large size, but like Hild, Judoc had been helpful. “Stay warm out here. I could bring you a hot drink if you like once I've prepared the yarrow.”
“Do nae trouble yerself, milady. I'm used tae cold winters. If ye need more assistance, I am here.” He retreated to the shadows again.
Both puzzled and grateful for the help, Idunna entered the hut.
Ealasaid sat up, brow furrowed. “Where are we? Where is Birgir?”
“Shh, shh. You're in Suibhne, remember? Birgir is with your brother. Safe and sound, I promise.” Idunna placed the herbs near the hearth. “You must rest.”
The only color on Ealasaid's face was the bright red apple of her cheeks. “Suibhne is gone. My brothers are dead.” She reached out and clamped her hands around Idunna's wrists. “Where is my son? Has Ingvar hurt him?”
“Oh, Ealasaid.” Idunna's heart ached. “Ingvar is dead. Hella, your husband, has replaced him. Eoghann returned and lives in Solstad Hall. Remember?”
A burst of wind swept through the hut as Eoghann and Birgir stepped in.
Ealasaid's eyes shined with tears. “Birgir. Thank the gods. Come here.” She released Idunna and held out her arms for her son.
The boy didn't hesitate. “What's wrong, Ma?”
“I thought you were gone.” She buried her face in his hair. “I thought Ingvar had taken you.”
“He's dead, Ma. He can't hurt us. You're awfully hot. And supposed to be resting. Da would want me to take care of you.” Birgir drew back. “Can't you make her well again, Aunt Idunna?”
“No better?” Eoghann removed his cloak. “What must we do?”
“I need vervain, but Hild has none. Only yarrow and ginger. It may help, but it isn’t what I want. The herb supply we brought is not enough and there is only so much we can take from Suibhne's people. It’s got to be vervain.”
“The Scots would have it?”
Idunna turned her palms up. “It's two days there and back.”
“By then she might be too far gone for it to help.” Eoghann rubbed his chin. “How do I save my sister?”
Birgir grasped Eoghann's hand. “You have to go. You can't let Ma die.” He looked between Eoghann and Idunna. “She'd do it for either of you. I know it.”
Eoghann frowned. “How can I leave you alone here for that length of time? Hella wouldn't like it.”
Ealasaid shivered beneath the blankets. “Birgir? Where are you?”
The boy let go of Eoghann. “I'm here, Ma. I won't leave you.”
“I will mix the herbs Hild spared, but I don't know if it will be enough.” Idunna drew water from the pot over the fire. “We must hope for the best.”
Eoghann's jaw tightened. “No. I'll go. I have to go. Birgir is correct. Ealasaid, no matter how great the feat seemed, would do it for any of us.”
“But you don't know this road in the dark. There could be any sort of danger out there.” Idunna shuddered. What if he was wounded again—or worse—killed?
“I would not hesitate if it were for you. I can't leave my sister to suffer. Aethelred and the others will look after you.” He cupped her face. “Vervain.”
She threw her arms around him. “Eoghann...”
“Don't fret, wife. Have I not returned to trouble you on another occasion?” His smile was tense, tight with worry. “I will always endeavor to return to you.”
And if one day you fail? She curled her fingers into his tunic. “Let me go.”
“What?” His eyes widened. “You jest at a time like this?”
“You must keep Ealasaid and Birgir safe. Is that not your task? The one set to you by the king you vowed to serve?”
He grimaced. “Aye.”
“Then...” She rested her gaze on Ealasaid's pale face. “Let me ride for the Scottish village. My life is less important than theirs. If I should fail, at least they will still have you to protect them. Hild can help you tend Ealasaid.”
“Your life is important to me.” He held her tighter. “Forget this foolish notion. We are wasting time.”
“Indeed. They need you here. I have knives and a good sense of direction. I can do this, Eoghann. She is my sister too. What do I have in this world but family?”
Birgir watched them with wide eyes.
“If I agree to this, you will use all caution?” Eoghann's body tensed under Idunna's grasp. “Will you protect yourself with every effort?”
“Of course. I'm not a dim-witted child.” She broke free of him. “Time is valuable.”
While she gathered her knives, a bit of food, and a few coins, Eoghann warmed her cloak by the fire.
“I do not like this. I could order one of the others to go.”
“She is like a sister to me. It's my duty as much as yours do help her in any way I can.” Idunna allowed him to drop the cloak over her shoulders. “I will take the swiftest horse in the village.”
“Someone should go with you.” Eoghann fastened the pin through the edges of her cloak. “Judoc, perhaps.”
“He would slow me down. Alone, I can glide down the road as a wraith.” She stretched on her tiptoes to kiss him. “I can do this.”
“I am sure you are more reckless than any woman I've ever met. Except Ealasaid.”
“She would approve of this trek. Don't fear for me.” She slipped her fingers into Eoghann's hair, drew his mouth to hers, and kissed him hard. When she pulled away, she drew in a deep breath. “Steep those herbs. I'll find Aethelred and get a horse. Hild will know what to do for Ealasaid until I return.”
She didn't look back when she walked away from Eoghann. Strange, the feeling of leaving him behind when she’d done nothing but try to anchor him to her side since the judgment that bound them together.
Judoc had gone, clearly dismissed by Eoghann, so Idunna made her way to Hild and Aethelred's dwelling by herself. She knocked and was received by a confused and concerned Hild once again.
“Ye are nae serious, milady. How can ye make such a trip alone?” Aethelred folded his arms. “It's tae dangerous.”
>
“I have no fear. It's what's right.” She lifted her chin. “Please fetch me a horse.”
“You'll need this.” Hild removed a heavy leather mantel from behind the door. “It will keep you from getting too wet and hold in your body's warmth.”
The mantel weighed her down, but it blocked the worst of the wind. She clutched the gold Eoghann had given her while Aethelred saddled a horse.
He held the horse while she climbed into the saddle.
“There is a quicker way, milady.” Aethelred put his hand on the horse's neck. “Follow the river downstream. There's less cover, but if you go swiftly, it will save hours.”
“I only need follow it? It goes straight to the village?”
“Aye. There's nae much in the way of a path, but ye shouldn't need it if ye stay along the banks.”
“Then that's the road I shall take. Thank you, Aethelred.”
He patted the horse's neck. “It's a long way there yet. Do nae thank me till ye're back, warm and sound.”
“I will see you soon.” She forced a smile, then nudged the horse toward the river.
Chapter Fifteen
Snow broken by animal tracks glinted under the horse's hooves as the animal carried Idunna along the river's edge. Ice crunched under the animal's feet and covered parts of the river. As a child, she'd often skated on the frozen ponds near her home. The warm memories were ruined by the dire situation.
Her chest burned with every icy breath she took. Despite her mittens, her fingers ached as they curled around the reins. Grateful for the moonlight, she was able to steer the horse around a fallen tree. With only the sounds of the horse's breathing, her own rushing blood, and the thud of hoof on hard ground, she followed the river and the stars.
As the horse tired, its steps became more uncertain and it tripped often. Dawn announced itself with pink streaks, and Idunna drew her mount to a stop near a rocky overhang out of the wind. Her legs were tired and sore from holding on, her body stiff from the cold. The poor horse couldn't feel much better.
He pulled toward the river for a drink, but she held him tightly and led him in circles until his breathing became more even.
Her Heart's Desire Page 13