Page 24 of Viking Warriors: Vol. 1-3
Whether it was the ghost of our former conversation that lingered or something else that made her speak, Helka became serious again. “Elswyth, you feel an affinity with the forest, I know, but I must warn you not to venture too deeply, and never on your own, especially after dusk.”
Nearby, an owl hooted, and I thought of the wild creatures that must live here—bears and boar. I knew there to be stag and wolves. Helka had brought her crossbow, though we’d come across nothing larger than a rabbit.
Helka took my arm, urging me to keep walking. “There are parts of the forest in which I would never wander for fear of what I might find.”
“Or, what may find you,” I ventured. I gave a half-smile, wishing to show I was unafraid, but her manner, so earnest, sent a shiver through me. The forest grew greatly darker, and it seemed that the trees pushed closer than before, twisting towards us in distorted shapes. Where there had been the noise of birds, it appeared eerily quiet.
Helka must have sensed this, too, for she lowered her voice. “It’s said that there are mysterious lights in the forest; lights that will lure you to danger.”
My own people had a similar tale but I’d never seen anything in our woods to frighten me. I’d hidden between the shadows of trees since I was very little. “I don’t believe in such things,” I said firmly.
“Whether we believe them or not doesn’t mean they may not be true.” Helka pulled her cloak tighter. “Our people have passed down stories through the generations, and theskaldstell them to those who will listen, as they travel from place to place. They tell of deeds brave and foolish, and the downfall of those who think themselves invulnerable.”
She continued to hurry me onwards, and before long, we saw the forest’s edge. Helka indicated for us to put down our sacks and baskets and rest. The pale daylight was within sight, and the strange terrors that had risen up around us receded.
“There’s something else I wish to say before we return,” said Helka. “Among the things which live in the forest is a seductive, secretive creature. She hides her true nature, to lure men. Showing them only what is beautiful and enticing, she is thehuldra: deceptive and vengeful.”
“Many women must be parthuldra, then,” I added wryly.
“Does this creature not remind you of someone?” asked Helka.
I lifted my brows in response and invited her to speak.
“There’s something in Faline which causes strife. I cannot trust her, and I wish she were not under our roof.”
I couldn’t deny that I’d often thought the same myself, but for some reason, I found myself unwilling to condemn her. After all, she was only looking after her own interests. I couldn’t blame her for that.
She’d been the daughter of our chieftain. How different her life might have been had her promised betrothed not fallen from his horse. It seemed so long ago that I’d been married and suffered violence at my husband’s hand. In Eirik, I’d found someone to give my love to, and received love in return, even if I were not his wife. What was Faline’s lot without the benefit of tenderness or affection?
I remembered as a child her asking to join us in our play. We’d found a tree which enabled us to climb higher than ever we’d climbed before. The boys laughed at her, so small she barely reached their waists, and told her to go home to her father. Had I mocked her, too, and sent her, tearful, back to the village? Perhaps I had.
Helka picked up her basket once more. “It was a mistake to bring her.”
6
Sylvi watched as I crushed valerian root in the mortar with petals of chamomile, cowslip and vervain I’d collected from the meadow. I steeped the mixture in hot water to create a draught.
“It’s important not to use too much valerian,” I warned, seeing her interest. “Jarl Gunnolf only wants to sleep well through the night, not fail to wake up altogether.”
She nodded her understanding. If Sylvi ever wanted revenge on the jarl for the liberties he’d taken with her, I’d shown her the way. I hoped I wouldn’t regret it.
Gunnolf had called me to him on my return from the forest. Eyes dark with exhaustion, he’d asked for something to bring dreamless rest. His need appeared genuine. I knew what it was to be troubled by perturbing dreams.
Eirik was also weary, but from physical labour rather than mental disquiet. He’d endured a long day in the fields, stacking the last of the hay into the barn. The harvest was drawing to its end—the fields dusty yellow and scattered with broken straw, the fruit trees stripped almost bare. The weather looked set to turn. The winter fodder for our livestock had to be harvested before it began to rot.
After we’d eaten the eveningnattmal—a thick stew of mutton and root vegetables served with bread and mead—Lady Asta took her bath in the main hall of the longhouse, discreetly behind a folding screen, Faline ladling steaming water into the tub from the cauldron over the firepit.
When I approached Gunnolf, he’d already begun to undress, having retired to the boxbed he shared with my lady. Seeing Gunnolf in his under-tunic, I did my best not to stare at his muscular thighs. His long hair, usually braided, hung loose about his shoulders.
He drank the sleeping draught down without hesitation, inclining his head in thanks. As I took the cup from him, he extended his finger to stroke mine. It was the lightest of touches, but I jerked away.
His cool eyes surveyed me. “What a nervous creature you are, as if waiting for me to pounce.”
With that, he pulled off his remaining garment and cast it to the floor so that he stood before me naked.
I found that I wished to look. Like Eirik, he wore ink on his skin; so closely were the designs worked, I could barely make them out. I’d never seen a man with body hair so dense and dark, covering his shoulders and arms and down his back. It grew the full width of his chest and curled down the hardness of his stomach, joining his groin, so abundant it would have covered his manhood entirely had it been at rest.
There was no doubt that Gunnolf intended for me to admire him.
