Page 41 of Summer of the Viking

She gingerly touched her mouth. It tingled as if he had just kissed her.

She flopped back against the pillows with a sigh. Dreams were just illusions. They had no basis in reality.

The reality was that Valdar would be leaving. He had a home across the sea. And her home was here. He wasn’t a hero from some mythical tale, but a real person. And real people disappointed you. The only person she could count on was herself.

If she allowed her brain to become muddled with dreams, she’d lose everything.

Chapter Eight

The day had gone better than Valdar had hoped. He had worked harder than he’d worked since he’d been an unbearded boy trying to prove himself on his first voyage. To the casual observer, he was certain, it merely looked as if he were dedicated to his job, rather than trying to avoid Alwynn.

For the most part, Alwynn’s tenants were pleased to see him. Several confessed they worried about Alwynn, being without a warrior and at the mercy of Lord Edwin. No one had a kind word for Edwin or indeed Alwynn’s late husband, Lord Theodbald. He was more convinced than ever that her late husband had abused her in some fashion.

That she had come through the abuse and saved the estate as well as looking after her stepdaughter only made her more desirable in his eyes. He found himself thinking about her and wondering how she was doing at odd moments during the day. Did she think about the kiss in the same way he did?

One of the older women had asked him outright if he had thought about marrying Lady Alwynn. He declined to answer. Staying here was not an option. Once they discovered who he was, they would all turn their backs on him, particularly Alwynn.

Valdar frowned. Right now, his main concern should be this farmer and the missing sheep. One of Alwynn’s tenants had reported that his sheep had gone missing and he wondered if Cleofirth the Plough had had anything to do with it.

This farm had a different feel about it. Cleofirth the Plough was a gaunt man with eyes which never rested. But it was his wife who concerned Valdar more. She was pretty enough, but she sported a fresh bruise on her right cheek and moved as if she expected the next blow to land at any moment.

While he never hesitated in battle, he knew he would never strike a woman. It would be against his code. Warriors fought warriors. They did not make war on children or women. He knew some, like Girmir, disagreed with him but it was the way he’d been brought up.

‘You won’t mind if I look around just to reassure Owain. It may be that I can spy a few places where your security is a bit lax,’ he said, spying the slight cringe the woman had given. He’d have a quiet word with Alwynn and Gode to see if his fears about Cleofirth’s wife were justified. And if they were, he’d try to figure out a way to keep the farmer from using his fists against a helpless woman again.

The farmer made an insolent shrug. ‘If you want to... I don’t know what my lady could be thinking of...hiring a foreigner as a steward. She could have used the brother of Lord Edwin’s steward. Now, there is a steward who understands.’

‘What do you know of him?’

‘There is no law against sharing a drink after finishing a hard day’s work in the fields. He comes from around here, so he knows what’s what. And I’ve been well pleased since my lady sold this farm to Lord Edwin.’

Valdar raised a brow. The man deserved to be pummelled for what he’d done to his wife. ‘I want to inspect that barn. The one you wanted me to hurry past.’

Alarm showed in the woman’s sunken eyes. ‘Stewards don’t usually inspect that barn. You told me that.’

‘Lady Alwynn’s new steward is checking the barn, my love,’ the farmer said, giving a hearty chuckle. ‘I won’t have Owain blackening my good name in this village.’

The woman’s cheeks flushed, revealing that she might have been pretty once. ‘You said that no one was going to look at that barn. You weren’t going to allow it.’

‘You know what poor simple creatures women are. She hasn’t been right...well...since she lost the bairn to be honest.’ He gave a simpering smile. ‘It is all right, pet, Lady Alwynn’s steward needs to do this. He won’t disturb anything. There ain’t anything to harm. You run along and let the men handle this.’

Valdar wanted to wring his neck. And he silently vowed to make sure Alwynn knew about the wife’s plight. In her herbs and potions, there might be something that could help the poor woman. But it could be that she was indeed touched by the gods.

He watched the woman’s retreating back. Somehow he would find a way to help, if possible.

‘The barn if you please.’

---