Page 59 of Summer of the Viking

Valdar’s face was creased with concern, but relaxed slightly when he saw her. Her heart did a little jump. His being there seemed to help. He was rebuilding the estate, not destroying it. He wasn’t going to betray her.

She put the parchment roll down. ‘Merri approves, I think. She says that Gode knows about us. The whole hall probably knows. I have been such a fool to think we could keep it a secret. All the talk is about when we will marry.’

He laced his fingers between hers. ‘As long as no one has confronted you, it is only gossip.’

‘Inevitable, I suppose.’

‘Yes, because you are a beautiful widow. People will always talk whether or not anything passed between us. Without proof, though, it is just talk.’

Her being glowed. He thought her beautiful. ‘You are right. Once you depart in the autumn, then it will die down. Everything will go back to how it was.’

He made no move to take her in his arms, but simply stood stiffly at her side. ‘I hope you’re right.’

She hated how her heart sank. He spoke so casually of leaving and to her it was like a big black day looming on the horizon. Silently she vowed that she would never tell him how she dreaded the day and never try to hold him.

He had another life and, once the life debt was paid, he would go back to it.

‘You asked to see me as soon as I returned from my rounds. What is it?’ He laughed. ‘Has someone complained about my high-handedness? Small things done now will prevent larger problems come the winter.’

‘Oswy has complained about missing sacks of grain again. He thinks a gang of outlaws are operating in the area. Oswald swears it is the Northmen, the same Northmen he saw in the bay about the time I discovered you.’

All the colour seemed to drain from Valdar’s cheeks.

‘What’s the matter?’

Valdar waved her hand away and concentrated on breathing deeply. He had to have heard wrong. There would be no Viken raiders here. There wasn’t a large monastery or town with lots of gold to attract them.

‘The Northmen? What Northmen did he see?’ His voice sounded strangled to his ears. He swallowed hard and tried again. ‘Why did you keep this tale from me?’

‘It was some tall tale that Oswald told Merri. He saw a dragon ship on the day after we found you. It had a broken mast.’

‘Did he?’ Every sinew in Valdar’s body tightened. Impossible. Girmir and his crew would be back in Raumerike now, living off the tales of their adventure. Everyone would think him dead. There was no way on this earth that Girmir remained in Northumbria. ‘Why did no one tell me?’

‘Because it was just a tale. Merri went and looked. There was no ship.’

Sweat poured down his back and he felt as if he had run a long way.

Words bubbled inside him. He wanted to explain and to order precautions to be taken, but he couldn’t get anything out. Acting rashly would accomplish nothing. Once he knew the truth, then he would know what to do. Whatever he did, he would keep Alwynn safe. Alwynn meant more to him than he thought possible. The knowledge caused his breath to stop.

‘If it was just a tale, why is it important?’ he asked carefully.

‘Oswald told Merri the ship had returned and now has a fixed mast. He says that it is about to start raiding. It is why they lost sacks of grain at the gristmill.’

‘How did he know it was the same ship?’

‘He claims it has the same dragon prow. A snarling beast of a prow. Some sort of fantastical bear combined with a serpent.’

Valdar’s heart raced. The description matched Girmir’s boat. The memory of how proud Horik had been of that carved figurehead swamped him. He had worked on the expression until he declared that it would frighten all the monsters from the sea. Horik had chosen a bear to represent his father, who had been a notorious berserker who had died in the East.

But if Oswald could describe it, it meant Girmir was here. Had he returned to unleash a storm of havoc as he’d promised?

Valdar counted the days. There would not have been enough time for him to return to Raumerike, refit a boat and make the return voyage. If Girmir was here, then he had only the same crew. Valdar’s jaw tightened. This was why the gods had saved him. They had washed him up on this shore in order to avenge Horik’s murder. It might be his only chance. Once he returned to Raumerike, Girmir would ensure his version of the tale became the accepted one.

But if he could destroy Girmir, he might be able to return to his old life. It was odd that in many ways his old life held no attraction. It did not have Alwynn in it. Valdar closed his eyes and reminded himself of the curse, of the pain of losing Kara.

‘He wants to know what we are going to do about it,’ Alwynn said. Her slender fingers tightened about an ink quill. She might make light of it, but the tale had clearly unnerved her. ‘I mean, it is far too fantastical. If Northmen were here, they would attack the church. Or maybe the hall, not a small gristmill. They’d burn everything to the ground.’

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