by Merry Farmer
Shivering, I sit up, to see Bjorn some distance away with Úlfar and Magni, deep in discussion. His eyes briefly meet mine and he makes the most imperceptible of head shakes.
Remain silent…
But he doesn’t look angry anymore.
What’s happening?
The other men move around me, pointedly ignoring my presence as they pack up bedrolls and shelters, transport remaining food to the ship and roll water butts towards the shore.
Breaking camp?
What about me?
But Bjorn’s warning glance was enough. Despite my jitters, I obey my jarl and my husband and stay put.
At length, Bjorn gestures me across, and meekly, I obey.
Úlfar addresses me. “Gunhildr, your husband has spoken long and persuasively on your behalf, arguing that you meant no betrayal. He claims it was your youth and inexperience that led you to do what you did and perhaps some fellow feeling with the woman you released. Is that so?”
I glance up to Bjorn and he gives me another of his almost imperceptible signals. I nod vigorously. “Yes, Jarl.”
“Good. We can accept that your motive was not evil. Nonetheless…” Úlfar heaves air. “… you have committed a grave crime and one that is not easily forgotten by those who would fight around you. Warriors must know who they can depend on. You understand?”
I fight back the heat behind my eyes. “Yes.”
“I’m pleased you do. You will return with us on the ship, but from there, you are banished.”
Relief and confusion battle within me.
I’m not to be executed…
But they take me home, then banish me?
Úlfar’s face is stern. “You are in the custody of your husband. You will obey him implicitly on the voyage back. He will explain.” And with that, he turns his back to me and leaves.
Baffled, I turn to Bjorn. “I don’t understand.”
“You are my wife,” he says. “I could divorce you for this, but I always wanted you, and I still do. We return home with you as my prisoner. From there we leave, together.”
He still wants me?
He will stay with me?
My voice is small. “Where will we go?”
A touch of enthusiasm creeps into his voice. “There is talk of new lands; out over the ocean...” His arm sweeps out over the sea. “… Far away. So far that no-one will know us, and they won’t care what happened here. And there you would not be expected to fight your own people. Any we met would be strangers.”
Curious faces are turning our way, Hjalli’s among them. Bjorn scowls, hooking his hand through my elbow, walking me away from the others.
When we are out of earshot, Bjorn continues, “I have heard of a man, Leif Erikson. He proposes a voyage to the west.” He’s smiling now…
Smiling…
“… Far to the west. We will find him and join his expedition.”
As his voice rises, some of the men look our way, their expressions sour. Bjorn drops his tone again, then grips my arm. “We return home today. You will take your place by me on the oar and keep your head low for the voyage. Do not speak unless you are spoken to.”
On the journey home, I could be a ghost.
I am not a slave. They huddle in the back. But neither am I included. The only recognition I receive is from Bjorn, or from Hjalli, who sneers and grins when he catches my eye.
Despite fair weather and a successful voyage, the weeks of the return are lonely and grim. And when finally we sail up the inlet to moor at the place I think of as home, Bjorn hustles me indoors and out of sight.
He raises a forefinger. “Stay inside. Keep out of sight. I need to talk to some people.”
“Who?”
“Traders.”
He returns hours later. “Pack your belongings.”
“We’re leaving so soon?”
“Yes, tomorrow. You no longer have a home here.”
“Bjorn… I’m sorry. I never…”
He strides forward, grips me at the shoulders, his voice fierce. “I understand why you did what you did. Always I wanted you. Always. That hasn’t changed. Your place here has. You cannot stay. So, we cannot stay. Tomorrow, we leave.”
“Where are we going?”
“For now, a land to the west. Some call it Garðarshólmur. Others give it other names. Some say it is a land of ice. Others that it is green and fertile.”
“That sounds… confusing.”
“Yes, but what the stories agree on is, that is where we will find Leif Erikson, readying his expedition. You have forfeited your share of the profits on the raids. But I have used some of my share to buy us passage on a trading ship. Once we reach our destination, hopefully what remains will be enough to buy us a place on his venture.”
Abruptly his manner changes, his smile broad and bright. “Think of it, Gunhildr. The whole world to explore. We will both be free.”
Very early the following morning, the sun not yet topping the mountains, no-one stirs as we make our way to the jetty.
The trader waits by his ship. “I was wondering if you’d changed your mind. The tide’s turning. We need to be off. Get yourselves on board quickly.”
Bjorn hustles me aboard, the trader giving me a curious glance. “That’s her, is it? The gossip of the town?”
“This is my wife, yes. And I’m paying you to transport us, not talk about it.”
The trader shrugs. “Fair enough.” He waves us to the end of the boat. “Settle in. We’re casting off.”
We sit together, Bjorn with his arm around my waist. He tugs my cloak closed at the front. “Stay wrapped. It will still be cold for a while.” Then he kisses my forehead.
Slowly, smoothly, the ship glides from its mooring. The only sound is that of the splash of oars and the ripple of waves.
And as we make our way out into the fjord, above the mountains, the first kiss of the sun lights the dawn.
About Simone Leigh
Simone Leigh writer intelligent, sensual, erotic romance and thrillers.
English but living in rural Spain, when not writing, she spends her time with her rescue dogs and cats, renovating her Spanish finca and orange orchards, or swimming naked.
According to one recent internet troll, she is ‘Beyond Redemption’.
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READY FOR MORE PIRATE SHENANIGANS?
PIRATES, PASSION AND PLUNDER has a much saucier steam-level… read on if you dare!
What's a lady to do when she's boarded by ruthless brigands and barbarous buccaneers, kidnapped on the lawless High Seas?
Stripped to the skin by piercing eyes. Captive and claimed by rough, strong hands. She knows it's forbidden but how can she resist... a pirate's pleasure.
*Warning : Bodices will be ripped!*
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