“Brandr, over here.” She grabbed an oar from one of the men rowing and pushed it out further for him to grab onto. But now more soldiers were climbing the side of the ship and arrows rained down from the sky. “Someone help me,” she cried, not being strong enough to pull him to safety. Finn ran over and grabbed the oar, pulling his brother closer.
“We’ll cover you,” said Asa. Kadlin’s sister and mother held their shields around all of them, protecting them from the barrage of arrows. Finn grabbed on to Brandr’s hand and pulled him into the boat. He fell with a plop at her feet and she got to her knees and threw her arms around him.
“Brandr, thank the gods you made it.”
“No thanks to you,” he threw her words back at her and she couldn’t say she blamed him. If she hadn’t insisted he go back for the monk, they’d be safe and out of danger by now. All she wanted to do was hold him close and kiss him. She wanted him to tell her that everything would be all right now that they were together again. But instead, he got to his feet and took command of the ship like any jarl worth his salt would do.
“Let’s get out of here,” he called out. “Now row like men, not girls,” he said to the oarsmen. The ship left the shore and the foreign soldiers behind. They were soon out of reach of their attackers’ arrows and Kadlin sighed in relief that they’d made it to the safety of the vast sea.
Brandr didn’t sit down until the longboat was far from the shores of Northumbria and they were safely out of harm’s way.
“Here,” said his uncle, pushing a bottle into his hands. “This is some fine wine those monks drink. Try it.” He chuckled and started digging through his bag of plunders.
Brandr raised the bottle to his lips, closing his eyes slightly as the robust, earthy, fruit flavor slid down his throat. Skuti was right. The monks did have fine wine. He took another drink and this time over the top of the bottle he saw Kadlin down on her knees, holding onto the shaft of the arrow in the monk’s back. Two Vikings held him down on either side.
“Now,” she called out, and ripped the arrow from the man’s flesh in one jerk.
The monk screamed out and writhed on the deck of the ship.
Then she said something to him in a foreign language and took cloths and pressed them against his bleeding wound. Curious, Brandr made his way over to Kadlin with the bottle still in hand.
“Did you want some?” He held out the bottle to Kadlin. She looked up and just shook her head.
“I don’t want to drink wine that was stolen from my friends.”
“Your friends?” asked Brandr. “I suppose you’ve learned their language while you were there as well.”
She looked up and scowled. “I had five years to do it,” she retorted. Then she reached up and ripped the bottle from his hands, pouring wine into the monk’s mouth to help ease his pain.
Kadlin opened a bag tied to her waist and Brandr could see herbs inside and things she used for healing. She worked quickly to clean and dress the monk’s wound.
She talked to him in his language which seemed to help still him. Her voice was calm and soothing even in such a dire situation. Brandr almost found himself jealous by the way she cared for the monk, wishing it was him she touched and talked to instead.
She finished up and Asa and Signy helped the monk to sit without leaning back on his wound.
“What are we going to do with him?” asked Finn, taking the bottle from the floor where Kadlin had placed it, helping himself to some wine.
“Since I risked my neck to save him, he’ll be my thrall,” answered Brandr.
“Your thrall?” Kadlin stood up, wiping the blood from her hands with a rag. “Brother Francis is my friend. He saved my life. He can’t be naught more than your slave.”
“It’s the spoils of war,” he reminded her, only getting another scowl from her in return.
“Here,” he said, taking the bottle from his brother and handing the monk the wine. “You look like you need more wine.” The monk’s frightened eyes flashed over to Kadlin, but he didn’t take the proffered drink. “Suit yourself.” Brandr raised it up to his lips again, but Kadlin reached out and snatched it away from him. She said something to the monk once again that Brandr couldn’t understand, then raised the bottle to the monk’s lips to help him drink once more.
“Kadlin, when we get back to Skathwaite, we will talk in private,” said Brandr, no longer willing to wait after all these years, but also not wanting to have a boatful of Vikings listening to his conversation with her either. He needed not only to talk to Kadlin – but to be with her. It had been too long without her in his life and he would remedy that soon. He would wait until they returned home, but then she would be his wife no matter how much she might hate him.
Chapter Eight
Three days had passed since they’d left the shores of Northumbria and Brandr was getting impatient. They’d been back home for a day and a night already and still he hadn’t had the chance to speak with Kadlin. She’d busied herself taking care of the monk every minute of the day. At night she pretended to sleep while Brandr knew she really just didn’t want to talk with him.
“So what are you going to say to her?” Finn bit into a roasted leg of lamb and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Brandr looked up across the long fire pit that took up most of the inside of the longhouse to see Kadlin handing the monk food on one of the silver plates they’d pilfered from the monastery. She had done a good job healing him and he no longer looked as if he were going to die.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever have a chance to talk to her with that monk at her side.”
One of the women of the clan walked up behind Brandr and started rubbing his shoulders. She was a comely wench and had tried many times to snare Brandr as her husband, but he hadn’t wanted anyone but Kadlin.
“Then do something about it.” Finn picked up a drinking horn of mead and sucked down the fermented honey liquid.
“I will.” He looked over the flames and called out in a loud voice. “Kadlin, please bring my thrall to me. I’d like to talk to him.”
She looked up, confused, and then translated to the monk.
“I’m waiting,” he told her.
She slowly stood, helping the monk walk, and they made their way around the fire to the other side of the pit.
“Brother Francis is weak and cannot stand for long,” she said with a stiff upper lip. “He needs to sit.”
“Fine,” said Brandr with a nod. “Finn, get up and let my thrall sit down.”
“What?” His brother looked up in horror and then started laughing. “You jest, brother. For a moment I thought you meant to give my seat of honor to your slave.”
“You heard me.”
Kadlin held on to the monk and almost laughed when she saw Finn’s face turn red with anger. She liked that Brandr was giving the seat of honor to Brother Francis. It said to her that maybe he wasn’t such a black-hearted beast after all. But then again, he had Una rubbing his shoulders and sidling up to him. Kadlin didn’t like that in the least.
Finn growled, then stood up, knocking over the drinking horn with a shove as he left his coveted spot. “No jarl would treat a brother the way you do,” he complained as he headed away.
“I’ll take that as a thank you for going back to save your life at the monastery little brother,” said Brandr with a smile.
“Brother Francis, please sit down,” Kadlin told the man in his language.
The monk seemed apprehensive, but did as ordered. “Please, don’t let him hurt me,” he begged Kadlin.
“Brandr might be a horse’s ass at times, especially now since he has that hussy rubbing his shoulders, but I don’t believe he’ll hurt you after he risked his life to save you.” She was glad none of the Vikings could understand what she’d said.
“I heard my name mentioned.” Brandr perused her with one eye squinted. “What did you tell him?”
Kadlin took a seat next to the monk and picked up some of Finn’s leftover food and started
to eat it, trying to ignore the wench who was now rubbing her hands through Brandr’s long hair. “I told him what a fair and compromising man you are,” she lied.
“Mmmph,” grunted Brandr, lifting his drinking horn to his mouth. “Ask him if he can perform a marriage even if it’s not his religion.”
“Marriage?” She looked up, the piece of meat in her hand stopping at her lips. “Who is getting married?” The girl rubbing his shoulders bent closer to him and smiled.
“Just ask him the question.”
She did as he asked and the monk told her he could. She looked back to Brandr. “He said nei. He knows nothing about our gods so it would be blasphemy to his God as well as to ours.”
She didn’t want Brandr marrying anyone, and was only glad when her sister had told her that he hadn’t taken a wife while she was away. It wasn’t normal for a jarl to not be married. After all, it was important for men to have heirs. Brandr had wasted the last five years being single when he could have had many children by now. She wondered why he hadn’t married if he’d truly thought her dead as he’d said.
“Tell him I’ll require his services this afternoon anyway. I will have him perform my wedding, whether it is legitimate or not. And you will translate.”
“Nei!” She angrily got up and threw down the food. “I will not tell him, nor will I translate as you marry a hussy!” She ran from the longhouse with tears in her eyes, her heart aching for the boy she was once betrothed to so many years ago. She had thought she’d be happy to be back, but instead it was proving to be very heartbreaking indeed. If she had to watch Brandr marry another woman after he’d made a promise to her so long ago, then she would rather have died on the shores of Northumbria after all.
Chapter Nine
Brandr ran after Kadlin, trying to explain to her that she was the one he wanted to marry. She was so upset that he figured he’d better explain before things got out of hand.
“Kadlin,” he said, following her out of the longhouse. “We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” She didn’t stop or turn around.
“You are acting like a child.”
She stopped outside the blacksmith’s shop where one of the Vikings was inside pounding out his sword on the anvil, straightening the blade. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.
Brandr was done talking and decided actions would speak louder than words. He grabbed her in his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth, stopping her from saying anything more.
“Now, does that prove to you that you are the one I plan on marrying?”
“Oh.” She held her hand over her mouth and stared at his lips. “I . . . don’t know.”
“Don’t know?” He noticed the Vikings starting to gather around and listen to their conversation. So he pulled her behind the longhouse and continued what they started. He tried to kiss her again, but this time she just pushed him away.
“What’s the matter with you, Kadlin? You act as if you don’t want to be with me.”
“Nei, it’s not that. It’s just that five years apart is a long time. I feel as if I don’t know you anymore.”
“I’m the same boy you loved and were betrothed to so long ago.”
“Maybe. But I’m not sure. I think we need to get to know each other again.”
Brandr let out an exasperated breath and ran a weary hand through his long hair. “And how do you propose we do that?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “But at least you could try.”
He looked at her and just nodded slightly, his patience wearing thin. Five long years he’d pined for her, and now she wanted him to wait even longer.
“All right. We’ll do just that. Meet me tomorrow by the water’s edge in the morning and we will go for a ride together.”
“In the longboat?” She looked up in surprise.
“Nei. I have a small boat I built that I use for fishing. It’s big enough for a few people.”
“I’d like that.” Her green eyes lit up and sparkled in the sun and Brandr’s heart ached. He wanted to touch her and kiss her and be with her so desperately, but a few more days waiting wouldn’t kill him, he guessed.
“You are such a fool, brother,” laughed Finn as Brandr and his brother walked toward the water the next morning. “You are the jarl. Just take her by the hair and make her do what you want. Stop letting her lead you around like a dog.”
“You just don’t understand, Finn.” Brandr got to the fishing boat and placed his gear inside. “I broke a promise and I need to win back her heart. It’s as simple as that.”
“Then take her heart by force.” Finn pounded his fist against the wooden bucket he held and let out a grunt.
“I pity the woman who marries you, brother. She’s going to have to be crazy to want a man who thinks force is the way to get what he wants. From a woman, that is.”
“Isn’t it?” asked Finn, placing the bucket of worms that would be used for bait in the boat. “After all, it worked at the monastery. We got exactly what we wanted by using force.”
Brandr looked up to see Kadlin approaching with the monk at her side. He wasn’t sure what to do with him. By right, he should be a thrall, but Kadlin had a point. The man saved her life and was a friend. He actually saved Brandr and Finn’s lives, too. But then again, Brandr saved Brother Francis’ life in exchange. When would it end?
“We got some things from that raid that we really didn’t want, too,” he told Finn.
Kadlin nodded to Finn as he walked away. She brought the monk with her to the boat. “We’re ready to go,” she told Brandr and his head jerked upward with a start.
“He’s not coming,” he said, glaring at the monk.
“I don’t want to leave him here by himself. He doesn’t understand anyone and the rest of the Vikings might decide to treat him badly.”
“Kadlin, this isn’t what I had in mind when I agreed that we would get to know each other.”
“Don’t worry. He won’t be able to understand a word we say.” She got into the boat and motioned for the monk to join her.
Brandr didn’t like it in the least. Brother Francis might not know what they were saying, but his presence would certainly stop him from trying to kiss Kadlin again. He wondered if she’d planned this all along.
“Fine, get in,” he motioned with his head to the monk. “But this is just a one-time thing. Kadlin, I told you he is my thrall and he will start training tomorrow to learn how to serve me properly.”
He shoved the small boat off into the water, feeling like he was the thrall instead. Maybe Finn was right. If things didn’t start improving between them soon, he’d have to revert to force to get what he wanted after all.
Chapter Ten
Kadlin had managed to keep from being alone with Brandr for three days now, even without Brother Francis at her side. Brandr had the monk working the fields, cooking the food, milking the cows and goats, and tending to the animals as well as doing other chores. She hadn’t liked it, but in order to stop him from treating the monk this way, she’d have to actually talk to him. That was something she hadn’t been willing to do yet.
She knew she was trying his patience, but she was almost afraid of being alone with him.
After that kiss outside the blacksmith’s shop the other day, she had wanted to do so much more than just kiss him. It frightened her. She’d been away for five years living amongst monks, and away from the everyday life that would have prepared her for these feelings.
She needed to talk to someone about what she was experiencing, but was embarrassed to do so. At her age, most girls were well versed in this area, and she wouldn’t doubt that her younger sister even coupled with men by now. Nei, she decided. She’d just learn to deal with this herself.
She was alone today, as Brandr had made sure to send the monk with Finn on a hunting trip that left before sunup. She felt as if this would be a good time to possibly try to contact the gods for advice or hopefully have anothe
r vision.
She walked past the fish house where the Vikings gutted and salted the fish they caught, stopping for a second as she saw Brandr sitting on a stump with all the children of the village surrounding him. She watched him playing with her youngest brother, Ketil, whom her mother had birthed while Kadlin was away.
Brandr threaded small bones with holes in them onto some cord. He then twisted the cord and pulled both ends and the bones whistled, making Ketil laugh. The children all jumped up and down and tried to grab it from him, as they all wanted to try it.
Brandr would make a good father, she realized. He had waited a long time for heirs and she decided she wanted to be the one to give them to him.
She headed up the road toward the old well to be alone and think. She had her runes with her and decided, since the monk wasn’t with her, she would use them. Since she still wasn’t sure she could actually hear the voices of the gods, she would use the runes to guide her.
Her heart was starting to soften toward Brandr, as he’d been trying hard to make her smile lately. He’d been placing Forget-me-nots everywhere she went the past few days. She’d found one on her plate of food last night, in the bucket she used to feed the horses this morning, and even in her shoe when she went to get dressed. Ja, she decided, she really did love him, and needed to listen to the voice she’d heard that told her to forgive him. So why was it so hard to do?
Brandr stood behind a tree in the shadows, having placed a Forget-me-not atop the well earlier, guessing Kadlin would go there to be alone as she’d often done in the past. He watched her grab for her bag of runes, then stop when she saw the flower. She slowly reached out and picked it up, bringing it to her nose and taking a sniff. She looked around and he walked out, making his presence known.
“What is this?” she asked, her lashes flickering upward as she met his gaze and then shyly looked away. Her lips turned up in a slight smile and Brandr knew she was softening toward him.
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