Page 58 of Viking Warriors: Vol. 1-3
“Selfish reasons.” Helka’s cheek reddened. “Leif… I needed to discover if there could be more between us… more than desire. I needed time, Elswyth, to know him, and for him to know me. Love comes by strange paths. I feel that he’s been waiting for me, all this time. I still grieve for Vigrid but my heart has opened again.”
“The man who sat beside you?”
This was something, at least. For Helka, I could be glad.
“You saw?” Helka shook away her confusion. “So, it was you he ran after? Gunnolf leapt from the table, shouted that he saw a face outside.”
Perhaps it had been me; perhaps another.
Helka’s voice was firm. “You must know, Elswyth, that Eirik was eager to return. The men of Bjorgyn have not his prowess; he might have bedded a dozen women but none interested him.” She leaned closer. “I made him stay, and he could hardly refuse since my choice would give him freedom.”
Nothing made sense to me. “But, Freydís?”
“Ha! What of her?” Helka stifled her laughter. “She’s pretty enough but hardly a match for Eirik. Even had he wanted her, her father would never have permitted it. He believes a man must demonstrate horsemanship above all; to fall from his mount before we’d even been presented to Jarl Ósvífur hardly boded well, and I made such a fuss of the injury! The jarl declared that no groom with the prospect of a limp would be worthy of his daughter, no matter the strength of his sword arm!”
“Then the marriage…”
“Is mine, of course!” Helka squeezed my hand again. “To Leif! Freydís is young but she has a stubborn streak. She begged to accompany us, to see the lands with which Bjorgyn was allying. Her father saw no reason to keep her from the adventure. The weather has been clement and she carries herself well on horseback, as they all do.”
“And, Eirik?”
The curtain separating the box bed from the rest of the great hall pushed aside and he was suddenly standing over me, broad and strong, filling the space with his masculinity.
Helka retreated as Eirik wrapped me tightly in his embrace, holding me close, my cheek pressed to the warmth of his chest and his own resting upon my head. My body remembered him and my heart ached with the knowledge of my loss.
“My Elswyth,” he murmured. When he released me, it was to draw my mouth upwards, in a kiss so deep that I forgot all but my love for him. “I thought you were lost to me. All those weeks I was away from you, I came to know my mistake. My thoughts were with you, every day; my heart was yours, always.”
I wished to speak but no words would come.
He pushed back the strands of my hair that had come loose. “What must you have thought and endured! And all because I was too foolish to see what was before me. If I’d been here, I would never have allowed them to accuse you.” His brows knitted in anger. “By the gods! How you are alive, I know not, but I thank Odin for it!”
He held my face between his hands, his voice fevered. “When they told me how they’d treated you, I wished to strike down Gunnolf where he stood! Only Helka’s insistence stayed my sword.”
I placed my hand over his, searching his gaze as he continued. “I looked for you… I couldn’t bring myself to sit at his table last night. I was in the stable while they ate.”
There was so much I wished to say. Above all, I needed to tell Eirik of my errors and ask his forgiveness. I was not blameless. He had wronged me while following his sense of duty while I had chosen my path wholly in anger. My resentment and wounded pride had led me only into further pain.
He tightened his hold, as if never to let me go, embracing me with his body and the ardour of his love. His voice broke with emotion, husky with longing and all that lay unspoken between us.
“Elswyth, I must have you—for my bed, for my pleasure and your own, to bear my children as my wife, for all the time given to us by the gods. Whatever is past, we must forget. From this day forward, we shall promise to love one another and this will be all that matters.”
In answer, I raised my face and took another kiss. For what the gods decreed would be, and I knew that I would always be safe in the arms of the man who loved me above all others.
Epilogue
It was to be a summer of marriages, not only mine to Eirik, and Helka’s to Leif. Ylva was among them; she gave her hand not to the young man who’d spurned her but to Halbert, the blacksmith’s son. I was glad of it, and for all the happiness that ripened, along with Svolvaen’s crops. We were healing, in many ways.
I sometimes thought of Gunnolf, and Faline, free, at last—of ambitions and fears, jealousies and resentments. I hoped they were at peace, and Asta, too.
Svolvaen gained a new jarl, and Eirik’s shoulders bore the honour well, though he mourned the loss of his brother. No matter the many grievances between them, they had been blood-bound.
It shamed me to admit my many follies to Eirik. I’d lost all sense of myself in trying to destroy the last ruins of my love and had been half mad with remorse over Asta’s death. Gunnolf and I, both, had allowed the worst part of ourselves to reign in those dreadful weeks.
Eirik sat in silence as I spoke. I feared he’d be unable to forgive but he blamed himself more than I.
The cause of the sores was never known, but we’d found our cure. It would take time, as I’d foreseen, for me to earn respect, to counter mistrust. None called me ‘witch’ or ‘murderess’; not to my face, at least. I told my story, as best I could, but not all of what had occurred could be explained. The workings of the gods and those places beyond our earthly realm are not ours to fathom.
Each night, Eirik stroked my hair until I fell asleep. In his arms, I believed there would be no bad dreams for, whatever the future held, we would face it together.
