Fires of Winter

by Johanna Lindsey

  “She claims she did not run away, Garrick,” Erin said as he came into the room. “She was taken across the fjord by force.”

  “Is this what she told you?”

  “I believe her,” Erin said firmly in her defense. “’Twould explain why the shepherd was wet and injured when he returned. He could have tried to follow her across the fjord.”

  “Or fell in a lake trying to follow her, which cost him his life!”

  “Dog is dead?”

  Garrick turned away from her question. She turned haunted eyes on Erin, who nodded sadly. Merciful Lord, why this too? Was not her suffering enough? Tears welled in her eyes as memories assailed her. She had won the shepherd’s affection, only to lead him to death.

  She could see Garrick was of the same opinion, yet she was not wholly to blame. She must make him see that.

  “’Twas Arno who hurt Dog,” Brenna said in a grief-filled whisper. “He kicked him away when Cedric would have killed him.”

  “Cedric!”

  “They were the ones who took me, Garrick!” She could see his doubt and she became frantic. “You must believe me! They brought a ship so they could take my horse too. They wanted you to think I ran away so you would never suspect them.”

  “Why?” he demanded.

  “I never learned why, except that a woman approached them and told them of me. I was kept on Arno’s farm, but I was to belong to Cedric. When he came and attempted to have me, I killed him and escaped. I sought your help first and called from the opposite cliff, but no one heard me. I cannot swim, nor could I find a boat, so I went around the fjord, the only way left to me.”

  “Get her out of here, Erin, before I do her harm!”

  Erin put his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged him away. “’Tis the truth, Garrick! All of it! God’s name, why would I lie?”

  “In hope I would forgive you and take you back,” he said heartlessly. “’Tis too late for that.”

  Unchecked tears wetted Brenna’s cheeks and neck. “You could learn the truth if you would, Garrick. Cross the fjord. See for yourself that Cedric is dead by a woman’s hand.”

  “’Twould mean my death if I were found on Borgsen land. But you must know that, the same as you learned the names of the Borgsen clan, from the women. They know the story well and gossip often.”

  “’Tis not so. Ask them!” she was crying hysterically now, but he turned his back on her.

  “You give the lie in your own words, for no one could survive what you described in winter. Take her to my father’s house, Erin.”

  “Why there?”

  Garrick faced her again with such venom in his eyes that she cringed. “’Twas my intent to sell you in the East if I found you, where slaves are treated as slaves, not with the liberties I foolishly bestowed on you here. But you were a gift to me, and so being, ’tis my father’s right to have you back.”

  “Come along, Brenna,” Erin urged her.

  Brenna felt as if she were torn in two. Bile rose in her throat and nearly choked her. She was not strong enough to deal with this rejection. She would have crumpled on the floor if Erin had not supported her. She let him lead her as far as the wall dividing the hall, but there she stopped and looked back one last time at Garrick.

  “Everything I have said is the truth, Garrick.” Her voice lacked all emotion—she was dead inside. “’Twas my love for you and my need to return to you that made it possible for me to survive rounding the fjord. I went without food because there was none, and I nearly froze many times. But I kept on because I thought you would be there for me in the end. I should have died. ’Twould have made you most happy.”

  She had spoken to his back, stiff and unyielding. Now she left, the pain in her chest agonizing. She had lost him. Nothing mattered any more.

  Erin did not dare disobey Garrick. He knew his young master was wrong, he was sure of it now, but he was also certain that Garrick would never be convinced of his error. Erin grieved for Brenna. She did not deserve such callous treatment. Were it not for the other woman who had destroyed Garrick first, he might relent this time and trust in Brenna. But Garrick, a bitter young man, had closed himself off completely, and Brenna was suffering for it.

  She said nothing on the way to Anselm’s settlement. Erin had brought a cart for her to ride in, promising to bring her horse to her as soon as the mare had regained some strength. Brenna still said nothing, and it was with a heavy heart that he left her at his old master’s home.

  Brenna was fussed over by Linnet, who treated her like an invalid after exclaiming over her condition. She was not allowed to step one foot from the bed, nor did she try. Her every whim would have been catered to, but she demanded nothing. She ate very little of the food placed before her, even when Linnet scolded her severely. Brenna grew weaker instead of stronger. She would explain nothing, respond to nothing, until the day Cordella visited her.

  “Linnet tells me you are wasting away, Brenna,” Cordella said smugly, sitting on the edge of Brenna’s bed. “This pleases me greatly.”

  Brenna appeared not to have heard. She simply stared at her stepsister with her expression unchanged. This riled Cordella more than a scathing response.

  “Did you hear me, Brenna? I am glad you are dying. ’Twill mean you will not be around to tempt Hugh away from me. And he does wander with my belly so big.”

  Still Brenna did not bat an eye, and Cordella got up from the bed to pace around it.

  “Hugh cannot do enough for me, nor can his father.” Cordella paced more quickly, her huge belly preceding each step she took. “But I have not had such beautiful gifts as your Viking gave you. You are spoiled, Brenna! You are never satisfied! Why did you run away from him? Now you are here where you are not welcome. Always when you are near, I lose what is mine. Not this time, though. I will not let you take Hugh from me—I will kill you first!”

  Brenna followed her with her eyes. “You are a fool, Della,” she said in a weak voice. “I would sooner die than take Hugh from you. He disgusts me.”

  “You lie! You want everything that is mine!”

  “Your ridiculous fears are groundless, and you sicken me with your jealousy. I want naught that is yours. I want no man, ever again.”

  “Not even your precious Viking, who cast you aside for another?” Cordella laughed shrilly. “Yea, I know of Morna, his one true love.”

  Brenna sat up in bed for the first time in days. “Get out of here, Della!”

  Cordella crossed to the door, then surprised Brenna with a smile of genuine warmth. “So your spirit returns. Mayhaps now you will live just to spite me, eh?”

  With that she left the room, leaving Brenna immersed in confusion. Did Cordella purposely make her angry? Did she in truth not want Brenna to die?

  Linnet came into the room, relief on her features. “You are better finally?”

  Brenna ignored her question. “What has come over Della?”

  “She has changed greatly as life grows within her. She worried over you when no one could find you. She cried to me that she had wronged you terribly and she feared she could never make amends.”

  “I find this hard to believe.”

  “We all feared you were dead, Brenna. ’Twas a foolish, foolish thing you did!”

  Brenna sighed and lay down again. “The only foolish thing I did was to return to Garrick.”

  “Nay, child. You are alive, and now you must make an effort to regain your strength.”

  “There is much that I have to tell you, Aunt.”

  “First you will speak to Heloise. She has been waiting many days to talk to you. I will find her and bring you food. And this time,” she added sternly, “you will eat it all.”

  Brenna waited patiently. She would recover. She was hurting no one but herself by wallowing in self-pity and grief. She was through not caring whether she lived or died.

  Suddenly Anselm’s words came to mind. “I would see Brenna free, rather than belonging to someone else.” She belong

ed to Anselm again, and by his words, he must set her free, even if she had to reveal to him that she had heard him say this. It would mean all her suffering was not in vain.

  Heloise came into the room followed by Linnet, who carried a large tray of food. Brenna felt hunger gnawing at her belly, but that could wait a few minutes more.

  “I have killed an enemy of the Haardrads, and in so doing, by Viking law, I demand my freedom.”

  Her words surprised both women to the point of speechlessness, and she quickly went on to explain what had really happened to her. “You may not believe me,” she said in the end, “just as Garrick refused to accept the truth. But I swear, with God as my witness, that all I have said is true.”

  “’Tis an incredible story, Brenna,” Heloise said at last.

  “You must admit ’tis hard to believe you could survive such a long journey at this time of the year.”

  “Yea, I admit that. Were it not for my love for Garrick, I would have perished.”

  “I will agree that love can give added strength. It can conquer impossible obstacles,” Heloise said, then added thoughtfully, “Yea, I believe you, Brenna. But others will not.”

  “I do not care what others think. Only your husband must believe me. I could not bear for all I endured to be for naught. I must have my freedom.”

  “I will tell him your story, Brenna, but ’twill not matter if he accepts it or not. You are already a freewoman. You were from the day my son relinquished his hold on you.”

  The enormity of Heloise’s words and the seriousness of Brenna’s position did not affect Brenna until she was fully recovered. She was free, yet here she was in Anselm Haardrad’s care, eating his food, sleeping in his home. This dependency began to gnaw at her insides. She did not like feeling indebted to this man any more than she already was.

  It was two months into the new year and spring was nearing when Brenna approached Heloise. She found her in the main hall, supervising her many servants while she skillfully worked a standing loom weighted with soap-stone, on which a beautiful bedcover was almost finished.

  It galled Brenna that she must ask to work in order to feel less burdensome, but she had nowhere to go in this foreign land, and so was forced to stay here. Yet she could no longer do so without paying for her keep.

  “Milady,” Brenna began reluctantly, “I cannot continue to accept your hospitality without some payment.”

  “’Tis unnecessary, Brenna.”

  “Nay, I feel ’tis most necessary. I am a burden in your house.”

  “You are a freewoman and a guest, Brenna. Taking payment from a guest is unheard of.”

  “Then I must leave here,” Brenna said adamantly, knowing her foolish pride was leading her on a course she could not alter.

  Heloise frowned, shaking her head. “My husband said ’twould come to this.”

  Brenna was momentarily taken aback. “How could he know that?”

  “He prides himself on being able to predict your actions. He thinks of you as a Viking maid, where courage and pride reign uppermost.”

  Brenna was nettled that she was so accurately speculated over, and more so that Anselm would relate her traits to his own people.

  “So he knew I could not stay here long?”

  “This is what he told me,” Heloise admitted, “though I could not believe you would be so rash as to leave here with nowhere to go.”

  Her words stung Brenna. “I cannot help the way I am, milady. ’Tis my lot in life to be controlled by pride.”

  “I know, Brenna, and I am sorry I criticized you. I once had pride like you, but I learned to temper it, as I hope you will one day.”

  “I will leave on the morrow, and I thank you for my stay here.”

  Heloise shook her head and smiled weakly. “If you are determined to do this, there is a house on our land where you may live until spring.”

  Brenna was relieved and crushed at the same time. “Only until spring?”

  “Nay, as long as you wish, Brenna. But my husband has bid me tell you that come spring, he will return you to your land if that is your desire.”

  Brenna took this news with mixed feelings. To leave this cold land had long been her only wish, then she had lost her heart to Garrick. And now? What would it matter if she put the distance of their respective lands between them? There was an ocean between them now as deep as any, filled with hatred and distrust.

  “Brenna, is that what you want?”

  “Yea.” Her answer came as a whisper.

  “But there is no one for you to return to—is there?” Heloise asked sadly.

  “Nay,” Brenna replied and lowered her eyes. “Yet there is no one for me here either.”

  “Your aunt is here—and your sister. And I have come to love and worry over you myself, because my son—”

  “Do not mention him to me!” Brenna snapped, cutting her off. “He is the most hateful, mean, most distrusting person I have ever known!” Brenna stopped, biting her lower lip.

  “Forgive me. He is your son and I suppose he can do no wrong in your eyes.”

  “Nay, my son has done much that I am not proud of,” Heloise admitted.

  Brenna fought to shake Garrick from her thoughts. “My aunt? Would you release her to sail home with me?”

  “I do not know, child.” Heloise frowned. “She and I have become close friends, yet I suppose you will need her more than I. I will think on it and decide before you sail.”

  “And my sister, and the other women from my village?” Brenna persisted.

  “The others have made new homes, Brenna. From what I know, they are happy here.”

  “As slaves?” She could not keep the sarcasm from her tone.

  “You and I could argue endlessly over this issue, Brenna,” Heloise smiled. “I know how you feel and you know my views. These other women are no worse off than they were.” Brenna started to protest, but Heloise held up a hand so she could continue. “And your sister can never be released now, for she carries my oldest son’s child. I do not think she will want to return to a ruined estate anyway.”

  Brenna cringed. She had not thought of that. She would have to build a new home to replace the old one. Even if the gray manor still stood, she could not bear to live there alone.

  “You said there is a house where I may live until spring?”

  “Yea, ’tis not far from here, near a small lake. And there is a well close to the house.”

  “I will of course pay for the use of the house.”

  “Of course.” Heloise said diplomatically, knowing better than to argue with stubborn pride. “The family who used the house last gave a share of their summer crop. But since you cannot do that, I think two furs a week will do for payment. I understand you have hunted game since you were a child, so this should not be too difficult for you.”

  “Nay, ’tis too little. I will give three furs a week,” Brenna returned adamantly.

  “Brenna!” Heloise admonished.

  “I insist.”

  The older woman shook her head, but smiled despite herself. “Then I insist you let me furnish you with salt, for you will end up with more meat than you can eat and will have to cure it. Also oats and rye, and some dried vegetables, for you cannot exist wholly on meat.”

  Brenna nodded, satisfied. “I agree. And I will also have enough furs by spring to pay for my passage home.”

  “Now that is not necessary, Brenna. Anselm will not hear of it.”

  “Nonetheless, that is the way ’twill be.” And she turned and left the hall.

  Heloise threw up her hands. “Foolish pride,” she muttered under her breath before she again started working at the loom.

  The little house was perfectly suited to Brenna’s needs, and had been thoroughly cleaned before she arrived. It was small enough to contain the warmth of a fire, and very near the woods, where ample game roamed. In the house were iron pots for cooking, clean woolen blankets, a crossbow and snares for hunting, and even a change of clothing made of soft wool, and a warmer cloak.

  The only thing that had not been provided was a tub to bathe in, but Brenna supposed that was because the small lake was so near. However, the lake was now covered with ice, and breaking that ice to wash in freezing water was not in the least tempting. She would manage with sponge baths until the weather warmed.

  Brenna settled into her new home with the joy and excitement of a small child. She was independent now, solely responsible for herself. She luxuriated in her new freedom, but it did not take long for the novelty to wear off and loneliness to set in. With such complete solitude, she could not stop herself from thinking of Garrick constantly. When she saw him one day in the woods and they passed with the hostility of enemies, saying not a word, her brooding became even worse.

  She would wear herself out hunting each day, then exhaust herself further by preserving the meat and treating the hides, finally making her meal for the following day before she would at last go to bed. Her days became monotonous, involving only work, as she tried desperately to keep her mind filled with immediate concerns.

  The ice cracked and melted with the lengthening of daylight hours, but the weather seemed no warmer, so Brenna still chose not to bathe in the lake. Then new flowers began to take the place of winter blooms, and snow disappeared from most of the land. Spring had come to Norway.

  Brenna was ecstatic when she saw the cart drawing near her house. She hoped it would be Heloise or Linnet, with news of how soon Anselm would sail. But she was so starved for company that she was not in the least disappointed when Janie and Maudya alighted from the cart that Erin had brought them in.

  After warm greetings were exchanged, Brenna took them in her house, grateful that she had a generous meal stewing that she could offer them. Erin had brought a skin of wine which Garrick had given him over the winter celebration, and they all drank to each other’s health. Erin then went to cut wood for Brenna against her protests, for he felt uneasy around so many chattering women. At first Janie and Maudya were distant, awed by Brenna’s new status, but as they consumed more wine and felt Brenna’s genuine warmth, their unease soon disappeared.

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