Page 50 of Shared By the Vikings

He shrugged, but kept his gaze on her.

“Have I grown a horn or something?”

He laughed. “You haven’t, come here, sit. I’ve got fresh water for you.”

She scraped her hands through her hair. The plaits of yesterday had gone and her hair was a bird nest. She’d be glad when it grew and had more strength to stay in place. Even better, if she could magic up a handmaiden again, one who was talented at braiding.

She sat, leaned forward, and adjusted the laces holding her too-big boots into place.

“Erik find them for you?” Tali asked, handing her a cattail root and a chunk of rabbit meat.

“Yes. They’re better than stubbing my toe.” She bit into the fire-heated root. It was fibrous but fresh, and would give her energy.

“No, we don’t want that.” He frowned. “We saved you so you wouldn’t have pain.”

“We?” She wiped her fingers over her mouth.

He looked away, picked up a stick, and poked the fire.

“What do you mean? I thought it was Erik who pulled me to shore.”

“It was mainly, but...”

“But?”

“It was a long way.” He turned to her, his hair falling over his shoulder and the morning sun catching it; gilded straw on a bronze shield of compact flesh.

“You helped?”

“We weren’t going to lose you or him. Gunnvar and I did what we had to.”

“For that I’m grateful.” She looked at him in a new light, then glanced at Gunnvar, who was down at the waves collecting driftwood. “To both of you... all of you.”

“We’re good men,” he said. “Or at least we try to be.”

She reached over and took his hand. “You are. The gods will be pleased with you. I know that in my soul.”

“Thank you, that means a lot.” He handed her another cattail. “Keep your strength up.”

She took it. “I want to go with Erik today, south of here.”

“Why?”

She nodded to her bow and arrow. “Apart from the fact I’ve spotted gulls coming from that direction, they must roost there, I want to be part of this, part of our way home. And I want to contribute to feeding us something other than this root.”

And maybe I’ll find Raud.

“I think it may be dangerous for you to go.”

“Tali.” She turned to him. “Sometimes there are things I just want.”

“Don’t we all.” He raised his eyebrows. “We can’t always have them.”

“I can.” She stood, reached for her newly made bow and angled an arrow into the hair string. “Watch.”

She pulled back, set her eye on a target—a large white shell—and fired.

The arrow flew through the air, the twang resonating in her shoulder.

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