Fires of Winter - Viking 1

by Johanna Lindsey

  She entered her house quickly, but stopped short at the sight that met her eyes. Selig was sitting on his father's lap by the fire, giggling and playing with the fastenings on Garrick's cloak. Garrick was surprised to see her, but Brenna did not notice. She saw only her son and how happy he was. Her anger came to the surface again, knowing that Selig had been denied the pleasure of his father because of Garrick's hate for her.

  "Do you approve of the name I gave him?" Garrick asked awkwardly.

  "I accepted it, since it was all his father would ever give him."

  Garrick put Selig down on the floor and both parents watched him crawl slowly across the rushes to a toy beneath the table. There he stopped to examine it with tiny fingers, unaware of the tension in the room.

  Their eyes met for the first time. "I am sorry you found me here, Brenna. It will not happen again."

  "Why did you come?"

  "To see my son."

  "Why now, after so long?" she demanded.

  "Do you truly think I have not seen him before this? I have come here at least once a week since you returned, whenever you are off hunting. And when you stayed at my house, I saw him every day."

  "How?"

  "Once he was fed, he was mine to hold before he was returned to you."

  Brenna's eyes were wide with fury. "Why was this kept from me?"

  "You thought I would hurt the boy, so I saw him only in secret. I did not want to upset you."

  Brenna turned to Leala, who was huddled in the corner away from the shouting voices she did not understand. "Why did you not tell me Selig's father has come to see him here?"

  "He has the right, mistress. He should not have to hide his love for Selig."

  Brenna paled to a sickly white as soon as she asked the question. She did not hear the answer. She had trusted her long-kept secret to Leala because she lived with her and they had to communicate for Selig's sake. And now, because of her anger, Garrick knew.

  "I will go, Brenna."

  She looked back at him, startled. He was going to let her blunder pass, but she could not.

  "You heard me speak your tongue. Why do you not accuse me of keeping this from you?"

  Garrick shrugged. "You have been here long enough to learn it, Brenna."

  He was being too condoning and she could not stand it. "I was taught your language before I was brought here, Garrick. It was my one weapon against you that you could not take from me, even though I never made use of it."

  "I know."

  Her eyes widened. "You know?"

  "Your aunt told me a long time ago. I sought to know more about you, and she told me much that was useful. You also spoke both tongues when you were sick with fever."

  "Why did you never say anything?"

  "I wanted you to tell me," he said levelly. "And so you have at last."

  "Only it does not matter now."

  "It matters."

  Brenna was shaken by the softness of his voice. He came forward until he stood directly before her. She met his eyes and there was no anger or hatred there, just the soft blue-green of shallow waters.

  And then his arms pulled her to him and she felt her heart skip a beat He kissed her, and great longing passed between them. All these many months she had tried not to think of him, for they had had more than a year of separation. Yet she wanted him so badly, and had tried to pretend otherwise.

  He held her close, unable to do more because of Leala's presence. Brenna wanted the moment to last forever, but there was a nagging devil in her mind that could not forget the past. What was happening was like a dream. It defied reality.

  She gazed up at Garrick, her eyes a cloudy gray, seeking understanding. "What does this mean?"

  "Spring is nearing, Brenna. My father has given his word that he will take you home." He hesitated, fighting his pride. "I do not want you to go."

  Brenna saw a glimmer of hope. "What then do you want?"

  "I want you for my wife. I want to forget the past and start anew."

  His words were like music to her ears. To be his wife was what she had wanted so badly before, yet she had been willing to forsake that because he had been so against it. Why had he changed?

  "Is it me you want, Garrick, or do you say this because you know when I leave I will take Selig with me?"

  "I love my son. I cannot deny this."

  "And me?"

  "I would not ask to wed you, Brenna, just to keep my son here. I want you more than any other woman." He held her closer. "I have regretted a thousand times my rash decision to give you up. I have been miserable without you."

  "But do you love me?"

  "After what I have said, how can you doubt it?"

  At that moment, her joy knew no bounds. "Then you finally believe I told the truth, that I did not run away from you a second time?"

  "I am willing to forget the past."

  Brenna stiffened and drew back from him. "Willing to forget? Then you still do not believe me?"

  "You swore you killed Cedric Borgsen, yet he lives, Brenna."

  " 'Tis not possible!"

  "I have seen him."

  "But—but he fell on my dagger, the one you gave me! He did not move. How could he live after that?"

  "Cease pretending, Brenna!" Garrick said sharply. "I have said I will let the past die."

  "But you do not believe me!" she cried.

  "I know why you left, Brenna, why you broke your word. 'Twas unforgivable the way I forced myself on you that last time. I took my anger out on you and I was wrong to do this. So you ran away, then returned, unwilling to admit the truth. But it does not matter anymore. I love you enough to forget it all."

  "But not enough to trust me?"

  He turned away, giving her his answer without speaking. Selig started crying and Leala rushed to him. Brenna stared dismally at her son, feeling once again that he would never know his father. Her hopes had been brought so high, and now fell so devastatingly.

  She felt crushed when Garrick looked at her with yearning, despite all that was said. How could he do this to her? Did he think this bridge between them would not matter?

  "Leave, Garrick." Her voice was shallow, her pain evident. "I cannot wed you when I know you will never trust me."

  "Mayhaps in time—"

  "Nay, there will always be this between us. I wish it were not so, for I will always love you, Garrick."

  "At least stay here, Brenna." He looked at Selig, then at her again. "Do not take him so far away from me."

  Brenna choked on her emotions. God, it hurt to see his pain! "You think me heartless and selfish, but I cannot live this close to you, Garrick. To be near you, loving you, yet knowing there is no hope for us, is too painful."

  "You have time before you sail to change your mind, Brenna. You need only come to me."

  He left and Brenna cried her heart out on Leala's shoulder. It did not help. Only putting a great distance between them would do so.

  Chapter 47

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  SPRING came quickly and Brenna was told to prepare to leave in less than a fortnight. She heard this news with a heavy heart, yet she felt she had made the right decision. She could not stay near Garrick without having him, and she could not have him without his trust. If only it was not so important to her, that trust. But she knew with certainty that their love would not last without it.

  She grieved most when she looked at her son, so unaware of the turmoil in their lives. She was denying him his father and his grandparents, being so utterly selfish. She considered leaving him here, but only for a brief moment. He was her life, and nothing on earth would ever separate them.

  She could never forget the fear she had for him before he was born, even though she knew now how foolish she had been. And then she feared again when he was born so weak. Now he was strong and nothing could hurt him, save his mother's decision to take him away. Thankfully, he would not remember, though she would.

  She had prayed for a little girl with her own c
oloring who would not remind her of Garrick in any way. Selig had raven curls and sharp gray eyes, but more and more he was the image of his father. She could never forget Garrick when she cherished his son. Even if Selig had never been conceived, she would not forget Garrick.

  Leala, to Brenna's surprise, had agreed to sail with her. She had no family here, having lost her husband even before her newborn child. She claimed Selig was the only important one in her life, and she could not bear to part with him. Brenna's relief was great. Even though her son no longer needed his wet nurse, Brenna had grown attached to this stout Norwegian woman.

  On the morrow, Brenna would sail home. Leala had gone to bid her few friends farewell, and Brenna prepared to take Selig to see his father one last time. It would be the final time she would see him also, and her heart ached with this knowledge.

  "Come, my sweet," Brenna picked up Selig. "Your father does not know we are coming, but I am sure he will be pleased." At the child's inquisitive stare, she added, "Thank God you do not understand. For you, our journey across the sea will be an adventure. For me—"

  She could not finish. Her pain was greater than it had ever been, but she still believed she had chosen the right course.

  She started for the door, but it opened before she reached it. Garrick stood there, his face a mixture of sadness and yearning, yet there was also reluctance in his bearing. Brenna was sorry for that. She wished he would be forceful once more as he had been so often before. She wanted desperately to feel his arms around her one last time. But there was a wall between them. Brenna could not blame him for not believing her. After he told of seeing Cedric alive, she had begun to doubt herself.

  "I should have sent word, Garrick. I was just leaving to bring Selig to you, so you could have this day with him."

  "Set the boy down, Brenna."

  His voice sounded strange. Was he bitter again? Brenna put Selig back in his little play area in the corner.

  "You can stay here with him if you like," Brenna said, feeling very awkward. "Leala will not return until eventide, and I will still go to your house, to say farewell to Erin and the others. So you can be alone with Selig for a while."

  He did not answer her, and for the first time she noticed the many weapons hanging from his belt, more than she had ever seen him wear at one time, and a rope he held in his hand.

  "Why did you come here, Garrick. You look prepared for battle." She felt a coldness seep into her bones. "Will you use those weapons on me? If you love him so that you will kill me to keep him, then do it, for I cannot live without him."

  He shook his head at the ridiculous conclusion she had come to. "No matter how much I love him and want him, Brenna, I could not kill his mother."

  "Then why—"

  "I could keep you here by force. I have thought of it many times. Last year when I sailed east, wanting to get far away from you, I realized that was not what I wanted at all. I wanted you with me, by my side for the rest of our lives. 'Twas late summer and I assumed my father had long since taken you back to your people. Since he had given you your freedom, he had the right to know I was going to take that freedom away again, so I came here to tell him that I was going to bring you back and keep you here whether you agreed or not."

  "Is—is that what you intend now?"

  Garrick shook his head. "You value your freedom too much—I know this. There is one other solution."

  "I wish there was, but I cannot see it."

  "The truth—the end of all doubt, that is the only solution, Brenna. I pray with all my heart that I was wrong to mistrust you. If you did lie, I will know it now. And then I can only hope that you will never feel the need to lie again."

  "I do not understand, Garrick. You did not accept my word before, and I have no proof to offer you."

  "I will believe in you, Brenna, from this day forward, because I must—I love you!" Garrick said earnestly. "But I still must know the truth."

  He pulled on the rope he held in his hand, and even in her confusion, Brenna was appalled that he would bring his horse into her house. But what followed the rope was not his mighty steed, but Cedric Borgsen, bound at the wrists, with blood oozing from a gash on his head. Brenna turned stark white as if she were seeing the living dead. Cedric also paled, but quickly got his surprise under control.

  "Why did you bring me here, Haardrad?" Cedric demanded in a contemptuous manner. "You must know this outrage cannot go unanswered."

  "Yea, but which outrage, Cedric?"

  "You waited this long to settle an old score?" Cedric laughed, then all his humor disappeared and hate dripped from his words. "The past has been dead these many years. Your brother killed mine and that was enough for our fathers. Now you want more blood!"

  "The past has naught to do with your being here. You have a more recent crime to answer for."

  "Truly?"

  Garrick came closer and pointed to Brenna. "You know this woman?"

  Cedric looked at Brenna as if for the first time. His whole being relaxed and he grinned. "A pretty wench, but none that I have ever seen before."

  Brenna felt her stomach turn. She looked at Garrick, who was watching them both, and his disappointment was clear to see. This could not be happening.

  "He lies, Garrick!" Brenna spoke Norwegian for Cedric's benefit. There was pain and disbelief in her voice. "I swear to you he lies!"

  "It does not matter, Brenna."

  "But it does—it does!" She turned to Cedric frantically. "Tell him the truth. Tell him how you stole me away!"

  Cedric shrugged, feigning bewilderment. "The wench is mad. I know not what she is raving about."

  "Liar!" Brenna stormed, and blinding fury made her tremble. "I thought my blade had killed you, but I should have made certain." She drew the dagger that was always on her hip. "This time I will be sure!"

  Garrick knocked the dagger from her hand before she took even one step. "He is bound and helpless, Brenna. We do not kill unarmed men."

  Her frustration was so great that she screamed. It was her word against Cedric's, but her story, the trials she endured, were unbelievable. She knew it and could do nothing. Then she saw the answer, and hope finally entered her eyes.

  "My blade pierced his chest, Garrick," she said quickly. "He may not have died from the wound, but there will be a scar—the proof you seek."

  Garrick moved to Cedric, who was grinning from ear to car. "I have many scars," he said confidently. "Which would you like to see?"

  Garrick ripped open Cedric's tunic nonetheless, but indeed there were many scars. With slumped shoulders, he pushed Cedric toward the door.

  "I will take you back to where I found you."

  "Do not think I will let this insult pass," Cedric sneered. "Because of the ravings of a madwoman, you attacked me and dragged me here to be further insulted."

  Garrick shrugged, too disillusioned to care. He had put all his hopes into this confrontation, shunning common sense and praying that Brenna's story was true. Now . . .

  "Do you wish to challenge me, Cedric?"

  "Nay, I am no fool!" he retorted. "But my father will know of this!"

  "I am sure he will."

  "Garrick, wait!" Brenna cried. She could not believe that Garrick had given up so easily. He would never believe her now, and even if he swore it did not matter, she knew it always would.

  "Brenna, there is no point in prolonging this."

  "He has another scar, Garrick, like no other! 'Tis long and jagged on the front of his hip. I saw it when he tried to force himself on me."

  She watched the color leave Garrick's face before she finished. Cedric also blanched, but she saw this too late. He panicked and acted quickly, raising his bound fists to strike at Garrick from behind. Garrick fell forward against the table, hit his head, then slipped to the floor and was still.

  Brenna stared in disbelief. It was as if she were reliving the scene in the woods when the bear attacked Garrick. He lay unconscious or dead, but the beast was still ali
ve, still threatening. She looked for her dagger, but she was too late. Cedric had it and was trying to cut through the ropes that bound him. Brenna raced to him, but he pushed her away with a mighty shove. She fell, but scrambled to her feet and ran for her other weapons. Again she was too late. Cedric was free and behind her before she reached her crossbow. He jerked her about, then slapped her to the floor.

  "I want you to know what to expect, wench," he said in a frenzied voice. "I nearly died because of you, and would have if Arno had not come when he did to stop the bleeding. I could not follow you then, but I did when I was well enough. Only I learned from a slave that you had not returned and were thought dead. The slave lied, I see."

  "Nay," Brenna said in a whisper. "I rounded the fjord, and this took many weeks."

  He laughed. " 'Tis no wonder he did not believe you. If you could endure that, then you will last long for what I have planned for you."

  "Do not be a fool," Brenna said, her blood chilling. "Garrick wanted only the truth; that is why he brought you here."

  "And so he has it. It went well until you mentioned the scar that he gave me in our youth. Only he and I knew of it. 'Twas an accident, but one I have never forgotten—nor has he."

  He looked at Garrick with loathing, and Brenna caught her breath. "If you go now, 'twill be the end of it. I will see that he never seeks you out again."

  "Yea, I suppose you could do that. You have power in your beauty. But you will not be here to see to anything. You will come with me."

  Cedric started for Garrick, pulling Brenna's dagger from his belt. Brenna gasped and jumped to her feet. She caught Cedric's arm and jerked him back to face her.

  "You cannot do this! He saved you when I would have killed you. He saved you!"

  "He must die, as you will also. But first you will suffer the agonies of your Christian Hell. Your fate was set when you tried to kill me!"

  "If you kill him, then you will die too—if not by me, for I will surely try, then by his brother or father. They are not fools. They know my story and if they find Garrick dead and me gone, they will know you did it."