by Sandra Hill
Oh, to have a wife and children to care for! Who cared for him in return! What a wonder that would be!
A war of emotions raged within him. He did not crave wealth, and, in truth, had plenty. He did not covet vast lands and titles, just security and peace on his own small plot. How could he have plodded through these 31 years without realizing that the warm scene he saw in front of him right now was what he had been searching for all his life? Tears misted his eyes, and he started to turn away before he was discovered.
But John saw him and called out, "Father."
His heart lurched at the boy's easy acceptance of him, and Eirik was forced to hold out his arms when John rushed with a flying leap into his embrace, wrapping his skinny legs around Eirik's waist and his arms around his neck. Emma and Larise jumped off the bed, as well, and ran over, twining their arms around his legs. Godric, the orphan boy, stood to the side shyly, holding back Prince who was yipping and yapping, tail wagging like a fan.
His throat constricted, and at first he could not speak.
"Are you gonna teach us how to have a spitting contest now, Father? Huh? Huh?" John prodded. "You promised."
He remembered, with a chuckle, his playful boast days ago that, when he was a boy John's age, he could spit the straightest stream from the castle tower to the motte.
"Oh, John, you and your spitting!" Larise exclaimed condescendingly. His oldest daughter loved to lord it over John, though she was only one year older than he. "Father is going to show me how to dance."
Eadyth quirked her eyebrows in question. "Dance?" she mouthed silently.
He had no opportunity to answer her as the children demanded his attention. Soon he was laughing heartily as their youthful mirth blended around him in a warm cocoon.
"Larise does not believe you can pick up a piece of straw with your toes," John informed him, casting a scornful look down his nose at Larise. He looked a lot like Eadyth just then. Haughtiness, no doubt, ran in their blood, Eirik decided.
He glanced up and caught the amused eyes of his willful wife, who was moving off the bed, shaking her head at his foolishness. Their eyes connected and held. And, for a moment, he forgot that he was supposed to be angry with her for running off to Hawks' Lair. He just wanted to shoo the children from the chamber and lay his wife upon their bed. The fragile thread that held them in thrall grew taut with tension, then changed shape and grew stronger, pulling and binding them in a strange, new, compelling way.
"Or else we could have a pissing contest," John offered.
And Eirik's dulled senses jarred back to life.
"John!" Eadyth cried out. "How could you?"
Larise and Emma and Godric giggled.
"That is not proper language to use in front of ladies," Eirik said sternly, fighting to control his twitching lips.
John hung his head shamefacedly.
Abdul decided to contribute his wisdom then by shrieking, "Pissing. Awk. Pissing. Awk. Pissing. Awk." And Eirik realized, to his chagrin, that the word would no doubt be a permanent addition to the barmy bird's coarse vocabulary.
" 'Twould not be a fair contest anyway," Larise informed Emma authoritatively, in a sisterly fashion, "because boys have their barrel taps outside the body. Gives an unfair advantage."
Eirik looked at his daughter, then Eadyth, with stunned amazement.
Then they all burst out laughing.
* * *
A sennight later, Eadyth sat with Eirik at the high table, following the midday meal. "Thank you for your help with Emma these past days," he said, placing a hand over hers. "I see more improvement every day." He glanced at his daughter, who nestled in his lap, half asleep.
Eadyth looked down with alarm at Eirik's hand which lay casually over hers. His mere touch set her pulse racing, despite her continuing anger over the visit he had made to his mistress Asa. She tried to ignore the warm yearnings which grew stronger and hotter, day by day, especially considering the fact that they had not shared a bed since the night Eadyth had seduced her wretch of a husband.
She should pull her hand away. She should fight this mounting attraction. For the moment, she did nothing.
"Do you think Emma will ever completely recover?" she asked.
Eirik traced his upper lip distractedly, and Eadyth wished she could do the same. His lips were full and firm, masculine. And Eadyth knew too well how they felt when they moved expertly against hers, shifting, shaping, coaxing...
"What are you thinking?"
"Huh?"
"You asked me if I thought Emma would recover, and I said I see more and more progress everyday. Then I asked what you thought, but your eyes were glazed and you were staring at me oddly."
Eadyth shook her head to clear her muddled mind. "I am just tired. We both are. Taking turns sleeping with Emma in her bed. Waking every few hours when she screams out in her dreams. Having her cling to one or the other of us every moment of the day. It does take a toll. And, yea, she talks more now, and she seems happy, most times. Still..."
". . . still, she continues to cling to us, and the nightmares continue," Eirik finished for her.
She nodded. "If only we could get her to talk about the fire."
"I have tried, but every time I mention her mother or the raid which destroyed her village, she puts her hands over her ears and refuses to listen."
"Just imagine what horrors she must have witnessed, Eirik. Seeing her home, with her mother and grandparents inside, go up in flames. And she so young and unable to help."
"Well, thank God she was able to hide in the trees 'til the villains left. She will get better, Eadyth, and then we can get back to normal business. And do not forget, my wife," he added, squeezing her hand and leaning closer to whisper in her ear, "we have unfinished business betwixt us."
Her heart skipped a beat and she looked at him questioningly.
He winked.
The lout! "Of course, you are talking of Asa and why you felt the need to go to her."
He laughed. "I am not. I refer to your punishment."
"Oh, that." Eadyth waved her free hand, as if that were no longer of any concern.
"Do not think I have forgotten, wife. And do not think you will escape my wrath. I am planning a most sweet torture."
Eadyth wet her lips nervously and saw his eyes follow the movement of her tongue, hungrily. She could imagine what he meant by "sweet torture." "Do not think you can hop back and forth between your mistress's bed and mine. Like a horny toad."
"Horny toad! Now, that poses some interesting mind pictures. But tell me, dear wife, what will you do to hold me in your bed?"
She gave him a sidelong look of utter disbelief and tried to pull her hand from his grasp, to no avail.
"Will you 'attack' me again?" he teased.
"I did not attack you."
"You are right. 'Twas seduction." And he did not look displeased.
She felt her face color with heat, unable to deny his claim, and fought to control the swirling images in her mind of the scandalous things she had done. "It will not happen again, now that I know you left my bed for Asa's. I would not make love with you now, even if... even if..."
". . . even if I stood on my head, bare-arsed naked?" he finished for her, reminding her of his story once again.
"Even then," she said stubbornly.
An easy smile played at the corners of Eirik's mouth. "And if I told you that I did not?"
She stared at him, confused. "Did not what?"
"Make love with Asa."
Eadyth's heart lurched painfully at Eirik's putting into words her heart's torment. "Well, I am glad you brought the subject up, Eirik. I have been thinking that I treated you unfairly."
"Oh?"
"Before we wed, I told you that I would not mind your mistresses, as long as you were discreet. I should not have changed the rules now. If you really feel the need to—"
"Stick out your tongue," Eirik demanded sharply.
"Why?" she asked, shifting backward i
n her seat, away from him.
"So I can pull it from your prattling mouth, you lackwit wench."
"Well! Here I am being extremely generous with you, and do you appreciate my bigheartedness? Nay. You just—"
"Shut up, Eadyth."
"I beg your pardon."
"You should."
"Humph!"
"I told Asa I could not see her anymore. If you would stop wagging your tongue long enough to listen, you would know that."
Eadyth's heart leapt in her breast with hope. "Before or after you bedded her?"
He grinned and shook his head ruefully at her question. "Neither. I settled a sum of money with her to buy her own business and maintain her home. And I did not touch her enticing body, not even once." He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly across hers, teasing, tantalizing her senses.
Eadyth's heart began to pump wildly. Eirik's thumb drew erotic circles on her wrist where he continued to hold her hand. Surely he could feel her racing pulse.
"Do you object?"
She shook her head and cleared her throat. "No doubt I will have to sell a great many more candles and honey and mead to cover the expense," she said, trying hard not to succumb to the seductive magic of his fingers and imploring eyes.
He chuckled softly. "Ever the shrew, Eadyth! Nay, those coins came from my own pocket."
Then another part of Eirik's words came back to her, painfully. "So Asa has an enticing body, does she?" No doubt her breasts wobble like cows' udders.
The brute grinned, and despite her elation over his good news, Eadyth felt an uncommon urge to wipe the grin off with a slap.
"Well?" he said finally with a self-satisfied smirk. "Do you not want to know why I severed my ties with Asa?"
The magnetic pull of Eirik's pale eyes drew her to him, but she fought mightily, feeling her defenses crumble. "Because you found another mistress?" she offered weakly.
"Nay," he said, the edges of his lips tilting upward.
"Because Asa has grown fat and slovenly... and... and her breasts no longer wobble?"
Eirik's mouth dropped open in disbelief at her crude words. Then he recovered himself. "Nay, Asa is gloriously beautiful."
The idea of a slap to his mouth became increasingly more attractive. "Then why?"
"Because I have a wife who pleases me greatly, in the bed and out. When she is not disobeying my orders, that is, or masquerading as an old crone, or attacking me with bees, or nagging at me shrewishly, or demanding I do her bidding, or usurping my authority, or calling me foul names, or—"
Eadyth pulled her hand out of his grasp and put her fingertips to his lips, halting his words. "But that is all the time," she said on a groan.
He held her fingers at his lips, then nipped and suckled on the tips, one at a time, causing her to inhale softly with delight.
"Yea, 'tis," he agreed, "but I have decided to allow you time to change your waspish ways if—"
"If?"
"—if you will continue to please me in all other ways," he said smoothly.
And Eadyth thought that would not be such a sore fate.
John and Larise and Godric ran up the steps of the dais then, all speaking at once. Barefoot and covered with grime, they smelled like the stables. Normally, Eadyth would have chastised them. Today, it did not seem so important.
Emma straightened in Eirik's lap and brightened with pleasure, clearly wanting to be with the other children, but fearing to leave the safety of her father's arms. But then, all of a sudden, Emma jumped off Eirik's lap and ran to the figure following behind the children. It was Tykir.
Dressed in fine wool braies and a short-sleeved, knee-length tunic of a soft brown color, Tykir looked the fierce Viking warrior. His long blond hair hung down to his shoulders, but it had been braided off to one side to highlight a rakish gold loop earring. Wide metal armlets encircled the huge muscles of his upper arms. He walked toward them jauntily, knowing full well the handsome image he portrayed.
"Blessed Lord, I had best lock up all the maids in the keep," Eadyth muttered.
"And you call me a lusty lout!" Eirik responded, but with an affectionate regard for his brother.
"Uncle Tykir!" Emma yelled happily and threw herself into Tykir's open arms. Wrapping her thin arms around his neck as he twirled her in a circle, Emma giggled like any normal child. Her laughter rippled merrily around them, sweeter than a harpist's music. And Eadyth began to believe, finally, that Emma really might recover.
Eadyth and Eirik exchanged grateful looks.
Eadyth rose and gave Tykir a kiss of welcome, then slapped his hand away when he tried to pinch her backside.
"I thought you were coming back here days ago," Eizik grumbled. "I could have used your help training the new men and patrolling the northern reaches of Ravenshire."
Tykir shrugged. "We had a fiercesome storm in Jorvik and my workers could not complete the work on my ship 'til today."
"Does that mean you will be leaving us once again, now that your ship is seaworthy?" Eadyth asked. She liked her brother-by-marriage and, with all the problems she and Eirik had been having with Emma, not to mention their own disagreements and her agonizing over the ominous silence from the Witan, they could all use a little of Tykir's levity in their lives.
Tykir grinned in his usual rascally fashion. "Well, if I had known I was missed so much, I would have returned long ago. Apparently, I have not taught Eirik well enough how to keep a woman... happy." He jiggled his eyebrows at his frowning brother.
"Sit down, Tykir," Eirik muttered, "lest I teach you a few lessons in brotherly respect."
"Hah!" Tykir said, trying to ease into the chair next to them. It was difficult with Emma wrapped around his body—arms circling his neck, legs locked around his waist.
Eadyth stood and held out her arms for Emma, but the little girl shook her head vigorously and held on even tighter, whimpering, "Uncle Tykir."
"Women love me no matter their age," Tykir boasted unashamedly. "But listen, sweeding," he added gently, stroking the little girl's bony shoulders, "I must needs visit the garde-robe. Let go, for now."
She refused.
And Eirik looked at Eadyth, offering her a quick, arresting smile, as if suddenly enlightened. He stood and snaked his arm around her waist, looking down at Tykir. "You know how you hate to sleep alone, my brother," Eirik said smoothly. "Well, you have a new lady to share your bed linens." He pointed at Emma, who smiled brightly, apparently understanding perfectly and having no objection to her Uncle Tykir taking the place of her father or stepmother.
"And, you, my lady wife," Eirik said, turning to Eadyth. "I have something for you." Searching the various folds of his surcoat and tunic, he finally retrieved a bedraggled green feather.
"What?" Eadyth asked, tilting her head questioningly as Eirik laid the parrot feather in the palm of her hand.
Eirik's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Since I abandoned you on the night of our marriage, and since we have had no time to ourselves since then," he said in a low, husky voice close to her ear, "you have my permission to consider this our wedding night."
"Permission?" Eadyth choked out, then looked down at the feather. "And this?"
" 'Tis your bride gift."
"A bride gift?" Tykir chortled. "What kind of bride gift is that? You have become tight-fisted in your old age, my brother."
Eirik ignored his brother's taunts and put his hand over Eadyth's. His eyes smoldered with some hidden message. "Remember the feather I demonstrated for you one day in our bedchamber and my promise that the exercise would continue?" he said smoothly, running the quill across her lips as a reminder of what he had done once before. " 'Tis time, Eadyth. Past time."
Then he scooped her up in his arms before she had a chance to protest and started to carry her off the dais. She squirmed and protested shrilly as Tykir and his men cheered and offered lewd suggestions.
"You are truly a loathsome lout."
"Yea, I am."
"And
an odious oaf."
"Yea."
"A lecherous libertine."
"Most definitely."
"And a... a..."
"Do not forget horny toad."
Eadyth tried to push out of his embrace, but he held her arms firmly in his embrace. Then he called out over his shoulder, "Good eventide, everyone. We will see you on the morrow."
"The morrow!" Eadyth squeaked, giving up on her struggles and burying her hot face in his neck. " 'Tis only past noon now."
"Yea," he said, smiling with supreme male satisfaction. Then he added in a voice of silky promise, "I have twelve 'peaks' to climb afore then, and I want to get an early start."
"Twel... twelve! Oh, you are outrageous."
"Yea. That is one of the things women love about me."
Once they were in his bedchamber, Abdul began squawking, "Loathsome lout. Awk. Big trouble. Awk. Kiss my arse. Awk." Without hesitation, Eirik picked up the cage and deposited it in the hall, ignoring the bird's angry protests.
Then, with the door locked behind them, Eirik began to light the many beeswax candles scattered around the room. Eadyth's heart was beating so loudly, she was sure he could hear it across the room. She leaned against the closed door, almost light-headed from her thickened blood and heavy limbs.
Oh, Lord.
"You do not need candles now. 'Tis daylight outside," she remarked nervously, still propped against the door.
"Yea, but you know I have a vision problem. And I want to make sure I see everything today." He flashed her another of his bone-melting smiles.
Oh, Lord.
"You can see well enough when you want to. Do you know how much those candles cost?" she said, weakly searching for conversation, hating the sudden reticence that had overcome her once the door closed.
"Do you know how much I do not care?"
She started to reprimand Eirik for his spendthrift ways, then stopped when she saw him hop about on one foot, then the other, as he removed his boots. Then he lifted his tunic over his head. His eyes glowed with a savage inner fire as they held hers captive. Unable to look away, she watched as he released the ties on his braies and dropped them to the rushes, stepping out of them easily.