Page 29 of Edge of the Wild

Until one corner of Rune’s mouth hitched upward in an attempt at a smile.

And Leif burst out laughing, the wild, hysterical laughter of the truly relieved after a long stretch of worry. Tessa felt it echoing in her own chest, bubbling and choking.

Revna sat up, her hair at wild angles, and shouted.

~*~

Oliver didn’t try to get loose; he didn’t throw his whole weight behind his movement. He let his hand dart like a fish, a quick, wicked strike, and the last rays of daylight glinted off the knife as he pressed it to Bjorn’s throat.

He was on the ground, pinned down, with no hope of escape, but he’d gotten a hand on his knife, and, had this been a true fight for his life, could have cut Bjorn’s throat.

It took him a moment, after Bjorn froze, one massive hand gripping the front of Oliver’s tunic, before he realized that he was grinning like a lunatic, and that the feeling coursing through him was triumph.

“And you’re dead,” he said, brightly, smiling so wide his face ached in the cold.

Bjorn snorted. “Yeah, but once you kill me, I’m going to fall right on top of you, and crush you.”

“Details, details.” Oliver smacked him lightly in the side of the neck with the flat of the knife. “Let me up, you ogre.”

Rather than lift him to his feet, Bjorn dropped him in the snow, with an eye roll, and that startled a laugh out of Oliver. He reached down, though, a moment later, and offered a gloved hand the size of a bear paw.

Oliver scrambled up, sheathed the knife – he was wearing the sheath threaded through his belt, now, as intended – and brushed the snow off himself. “Youcanadmit that I’m getting better, you know. It won’t make you any less better than me at most things.”

When he glanced up, he found Bjorn with his head to the side, studying him. “What?”

Bjorn started to respond, hesitated long enough to make Oliver worry, then said, “You’re not the way I thought you’d be.”

Oliver blinked. “Well, that’s not a ringing endorsement.”

Bjorn frowned, unapologetic. “You look every inch the soft Southerner.”

“Why, thank you, Bjorn–”

“But you’re tougher than that, underneath. You’ve got a mouth on you, and you use it even when you probably shouldn’t. Talking back to Ragnar? Egging him on?” Another snort. “Stupid – but brave, I grant you. No one ever talks to Erik the way you did, straight from the first. That takes nerve.” He dipped his head in a quick, but sincere show of respect that stunned Oliver. “You take that mouth to Dreki Hörgr, you keep using it here, and you’ll win them over, to be sure.”

Oliver didn’t know if thanking someone like Bjorn was the right course of action; his statement had been less of a compliment, and more of a decision rendered. A judgement in his favor. So he said, “Maybe Southerners aren’t as soft as you think.”

That earned a grin. “Or maybe you’ve got more of the North in you than you know.”

A beat. Oliver said, “You could make a very terrible joke out of that.”

Bjorn stared at him a moment, and then roared with laughter.

They were both dabbing at their eyes when Tessa appeared in a whirl of skirts and a fluttering of unbrushed hair, her eyes huge. “Ollie!”

Their laughter choked off; Oliver’s stomach dropped like a stone. “What is it?”

But though her eyes were huge and shining with tears, she was beaming. “Rune’s fever broke. He’s awake!”

~*~

Erik thought it might have been the most appropriate thing to have supper in the great hall, with all his household, and his lords, most of which were departing before dawn along with his own personal caravan, but tonight, family took precedence.

They took supper in Rune’s chamber, all of them ranged around on the assorted chairs, and sofa; Oliver perched in the windowsill, and though Erik would have liked to have him by his side, glimpsing the true, soft joy on his face across the room was enough, especially with Rune alert, and, despite his face looking bruised from fever, sitting up against a stack of pillows and complaining about the watery broth that was all he was allowed.

Erik’s heart was light; tomorrow’s troubles, whatever they might be, could wait. For now, he had all the people he loved best around him. And, when Rune’s energy began to flag, and Revna began shooing them out, he had a decision to deliver.

He caught Bjorn’s eye, tilted his head toward the door, and together they went out to the common room; Erik poured them both wine, and, when Bjorn hesitated, nodded him toward a chair by the fire.

---