Eirik: A Time Travel Romance (Mists of Albion Book 1)

by Joanna Bell

  "Lady!" Gudry moans, as Anja's stomping footsteps fade. "Now Hildy is going to be angry! Now we're going to catch a whipping!"

  "You're not going to catch anything," I tell her. "Just stop being such a pain and help me with this, will you? Don't worry, girl, I won't let Hildy touch you."

  Gudry edges forward and we set to work on Willa's scraggly hair, so unkempt it's twisted itself into knots.

  "This is going to take forever," Gudry sighs.

  But it doesn't take forever. It only takes a couple of hours. I help Willa out of the bath, the water of which is now as dark as the earthen floor, and help her to lift a tunic over her head. She's even thinner than I remember, each rib painfully visible when she raises her arms, even from the back.

  "What's happened to you?" I whisper, aching with guilt. My friends used to count on me for food, they used to be chubbier than the other kids in Caistley, and it was down to me. Now Willa is thin again, almost shrunken, and she looks far older than her 25 years.

  She shrugs. "Nothing. Babies. I've had a little one on my breast now for longer than I can remember – they suck the life out of you. I see you're about to have the same."

  I look down at my belly with Willa and she reaches out, running one bony hand over my almost shameful roundness.

  "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so sorry, Willa. I didn't mean to leave like–"

  "WHAT'S ALL THIS?!"

  Hildy barges in, hands on hips, and stares me down. I stand up, putting myself between her and Willa.

  "The Jarl said I could take her to get cleaned up," I say calmly. "That's 'all this.' She's very tired now and we need to find a grass bed so she can sleep."

  The Jarl and I sleep on furs, but almost everybody else in the camp sleeps on what to me look more like body pillows than beds – long sacks stuffed with dried grasses and only changed once a year, in the springtime. I wasn't sure if Willa even had a grass bed, back in Caistley.

  Hildy raises one eyebrow at me. "Your Jarl said you could clean her up, girl, but make no mistake – she's a captive, and I'll be taking her with me, now."

  She moves to step around me and I move in the same direction, blocking her from getting close to Willa.

  "Girl!" She barks. "Get out of the way!"

  I know she isn't going to hit me – she can't, not with my pregnant belly and my place at the Jarl's side – and that makes me braver than normal. Willa makes me braver, too. I've already let her and Eadgar down once, I'm not about to do it again.

  Instead of hitting me, Hildy snatches a handful of my hair in one of her fat hands and I scream, enraged, and kick out at her. She dodges out of the way and I kick out again, lashing out with my fists now. We scrap like that for a good minute or more, until Hildy suddenly sees something I don't and immediately drops her arms to her sides. I take my chance and shove her, hard enough to almost send her flying, and then feel a firm, familiar grip on my upper arm.

  "Voss! What is happening here?!"

  It's Eirik and his eyes are flashing with real anger. I step away from Hildy quickly, and nobody looks him in the eye.

  "What is this?" He demands again, jerking my arm a little. It's not painful, not enough to even leave a temporary mark, but suddenly – and for the first time with my Jarl – I see red. I yank my arm out of his grip and because he's not expecting it, it works. Then I jump away as he tries to grab me again.

  "Stop it!" I shout at him as everyone – including Hildy – shrinks away, shocked. I don't shrink away, though. Nor do I avert my eyes. Those I turn up to him, meeting his gaze directly. "Why are you shouting at me?" I demand, not waiting for an answer. "I told you this woman is my friend – it's not a lie, Jarl! She is my friend, a true friend. Why do you stand there looking like you want to kill me? Would you not do the same, for a friend? If someone came to hurt Gunnar, or Veigar – or me? Wouldn't you try to stop them?"

  I stop, panting with emotion, but seeing the looks on everyone's faces – Willa, Gudry, Hildy – just underlines that I'm breaking a very serious rule right now and that just makes me even angrier. "You want me to do this?!" I demand, gesturing at Hildy. "Is that what you want of a wife? You want me to cower away from you? What would you think of a man who did the same, Eirik? What would you think if somebody came to take Veigar and you were too scared to try to stop him? If you understand why that would be impossible for you, then you understand why it is impossible for me!"

  My voice rises on the last sentence – I'm really yelling at him, my chest tight with rage.

  We stare at each other, the Jarl and I, me poised defensively, more than ready to come to Willa's aid should anyone wish to try me. I know I won't win – not even against Hildy – but if he thinks that means I'm just going to let her be dragged off into –

  "Fine, girl."

  I frown. "What?"

  Eirik shrugs and lets out a very long sigh. "Take her to the roundhouse, I'll have Hildy bring her some bread and ham."

  Hildy lets out an indignant snort but one glance from the Jarl and she's quiet again.

  "Do you mean it?" I ask, worried some kind of trick is being played on me, or some sort of test being run. "You're not –"

  "Girl, I have forty new captives, more pigs and grain and ale and my men are tired and – if you can believe this – even grumpier than you. I don't have time for this." He nods at Hildy. "Take them to my roundhouse. Bring them bread and ham. And bring some of the tincture for this one, here."

  "Shall I stay with them, Jarl, when –"

  "No, there's no need, one of my men will be on guard."

  I resist the urge to smirk directly at Hildy, who is visibly pissed off now that her plan to thwart me has itself been thwarted – and by the one person she can't just smack around. The mention of the tincture, a foul brew of various plants and herbs that is meant to calm a person who is nervous or hysterical, is horrifically patronizing – but just as the Jarl is going to deal with me later, I, too, am going to deal with him.

  Chapter 21

  9th Century

  Watching Willa eat gives me a feeling of immense satisfaction, even as I'm nervous about what she might have to say about Eadgar when she finishes.

  "Aren't you hungry?" She asks between mouthfuls of heavily buttered bread and gulps of ale.

  I shake my head and she looks like she wants to question me further. Instead, she goes back to eating. And she keeps eating for quite awhile, until I'm worried I'm going to have to call for a very irritated Hildy and ask her to bring more food.

  Thankfully, it doesn't get to that point. Willa looks up, swallowing the last bite of ham, and asks me when she can see her children.

  "Soon," I say. "You have to understand, it isn't my decision. We're lucky I was even allowed to take you away from the rest of the captives. Just – when the Jarl returns, be quiet, try not to anger him.

  Willa throws her head back, laughing. "You ask me not to anger him, Paige? Forgive me but I don't think I'm the one who needs to be told not to anger my highers!"

  I'm about to agree, but instead I just put my arms around my friend and hold her tight."I'm so glad to see you," I whisper into her ear. "You don't know how glad. Your children will be fine, you just let me speak to the Jarl about it."

  Willa kisses my cheek. "Aye, Paige, we missed you too. Eadgar said you must have got married to a higher, maybe even one of the King's men. We always knew you weren't one of us, that one day there would be no more games in the woods."

  "So," I begin, tense at the mention of his name, "Eadgar is – is he here? Did the Northmen take him, too?"

  Willa shakes her head as we sit side-by-side on our chairs, our arms thrown around each other's shoulders in the same manner as when we were children. "No, he was away tending to the pigs with my husband. They'll have seen what happened, though. They'll know I – and the children – were taken."

  Everyone in the past still seems to hold faith with a kind of fatalism that I don't see in modern people. But if there's one person who might be pro
ne to the same kind of stubborn refusal to accept her circumstances, it might just be Willa. And before I even have time to ask her if she's thought about it she's speaking of escape.

  "I'll slip away with the children, after darkness falls," she says, leaning in close to me so there's no chance the guard outside will overhear. "You'll help us, Paige."

  She's not asking – she's telling. And I don't quite know how to respond.

  "Wait," I say. "Tonight? I – I don't know if that's the best idea. The guards will be alert tonight, as they always are when we have fresh captives."

  Willa looks at me sharply.

  "What?" I ask.

  "'We,'" she replies.

  "We – what?"

  "Are you one of them now then, Paige? You use that word 'we' like these are your people. What happened? Did they take you, too? How long ago? Do you intend to tell your Jarl of my plan?"

  I feel my eyes widening with surprise, followed quickly by offense. "Yes they took me!" I reply shortly. "And no, of course I'm not one of them! I've been planning for months to make my own esc –"

  I stop talking when I see Willa staring pointedly down at my belly.

  "But you haven't escaped," she says plainly. "Here you are – and not without some power, I see. Power – and a Jarl's baby in your belly."

  "But that doesn't mean –" I begin, but Willa shuts me up with a wave of her hand. The feeling from childhood, the respect for her as the older and more experienced sister I never had, remains.

  "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Paige! Look at your fat cheeks – and the Jarl himself, as fierce and striking as a wolf. He loves you, I saw it in his eyes when he looked at you – and when he didn't beat you for speaking to him so sharply! You've no reason to leave, you don't need to explain it to me."

  I shake my head, frustrated. "But I do! They took me, Willa. They took me just like they took you! Then the winter cold came and I've been waiting for the spring to come."

  "When did they take you?"

  "About 8 moons ago, around harvest-time. They took me from Caistley! I came back to see you and Eadgar, to see how you were, and the Northmen were there but you weren't. Did you see them and hide in the woods?"

  Willa shakes her head and runs her finger through a smidgen of butter left on the plate before bringing it to her lips and licking it off. "No. The ealdorman moved a couple of families to another place for a fortnight, to gather the apples and berries for winter. Eadgar and I – and my husband and children – were in that group. When we came back to see the village burned we cleared the debris and built just enough dwellings for the small group we were then, close to the original site. A second Caistley.

  "And your mother?" I ask.

  "She died two summers ago, after a fever came through the village – nearly took my second child, too – he was just a babe at the time."

  As ever, people in the past speak of death with a plainness of manner I cannot share. I reach out and put my hand on Willa's arm and tell her I'm sorry.

  "We were sorry too, Paige, but she lived longer than expected for a woman of her place, and we're grateful for it."

  Willa is flagging. I'm not surprised, but I'm also not finished talking to her. "Wait," I say, when she moves to curl up on the furs I have laid out for her next to the fire. "Wait. Before you sleep you need to know that tonight cannot be the night you escape. We need to make a plan, first."

  "You and your plans," she smiles. "I forgot how much you like making plans. Fine, I'll wait, but you'd best not be pulling my leg – or telling the Jarl of my intentions – because I'm going. One way or the other, I'm taking my children and going home."

  "I'm not pulling any legs," I reassure her, laying a woolen blanket over her as her eyes close. "Sleep now. We can talk when you wake."

  I return to the table as Willa sleeps, preoccupied. She's not kidding about escaping – I know that. And the warm weather has come, the season I told myself I was waiting for before making my own attempt. I look down at my belly and think of the walk back to Caistley – one day, maybe, probably two or three. I can take food, and the nights are warmer now. Warmer, but still cool. I wonder if I can persuade my friend to wait for a few weeks, maybe another moon, until summer? Then even if we get wet we won't freeze to death come nightfall.

  "Planning your escape?"

  I jerk my head up and then immediately away so the Jarl doesn't see the guilt on my face.

  "No," I reply, accepting a kiss on my forehead. "No. I was thinking of – I was thinking of you. I was wondering how angry you would be with me when you returned this evening."

  Eirik sits down in a chair opposite me and gives me a wry smile.

  "What's that look for?" I ask.

  "It's the look I give girls who think they're smarter than me," he replies quietly as Willa stirs in her sleep but doesn't wake. "You and your questions, Paige. As if I don't understand that the lower people care for their friends and their families just as much as the higher people do. I don't think it is I who lacks understanding."

  Eirik's massive shoulders are slumped forward slightly, he rests his forearms on the table. He's tired. I don't want to cause any more trouble for him, but he seems to be looking for a response. "So you understand," I say, "but you still get angry with me? You still seem to expect some people not to fight when you yourself would do so?"

  The Jarl reaches out, takes my hand, and pulls me onto his lap. "It's not about what I expect, girl, it's about what's smart and what's not smart. If you hadn't been there this afternoon what do you think your sleepy friend here would have done? Do you think she would have screamed and yelled and carried on the way you did? Do you think she would have challenged Veigar like you did?"

  I shake my head no.

  "And why is that?"

  "Because it probably would have gotten her killed," I reply. "And she knows if she dies her children will die, too."

  "Yes," Eirik nods. "She knows, the way everyone except you seems to know – how to behave. She understands the hierarchy. You do not."

  "No," I protest softly. "I do. I know it as well as anyone. It doesn't mean I accept it. It doesn't mean I think it's right."

  Eirik nudges his chin down against my shoulder and puts one hand on my bump. "Is this why you plot to escape?" He asks, continuing before I can figure out how serious he is. "You have a man who loves you, girl. Not just a man – a Jarl. And you have a baby in your belly. You say to me that you understand how things are, but how can I believe that? Where will our baby be safer than here?"

  I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Nothing can come out. What can I say? Nothing, the same as all the other times I've discussed this with Eirik. I can't tell him the truth, so I can't tell him anything. I can't say no, actually, our baby would be much safer being delivered in a hospital, because Eirik doesn't know what a hospital is, just like he doesn't know about grocery stores or college or just about everything else from my other life.

  "And you never say it back," he continues, pulling my hair aside so he can kiss my shoulder. "You think I don't notice, that I don't see that furtive look in your eye."

  He doesn't have to tell me what he's talking about. I know it, and he's right. I haven't told him I love him yet – I haven't said the words, anyway. I can't say them, and it's probably more because they're true than anything else. It's as if uttering them out loud will prove to be a kind of incantation, a spell keeping me physically in one place – the past. And I am not ready to cast such a spell over myself.

  "Eirik –"

  "Don't. You don't need to say anything. I already know, Paige. You keep thinking I don't know, but I do. I know you love me. I see it in you, I see the way you look at me when I come back to you in the evenings, I see the relief when you catch sight of me after I've been leading the men on raids. I don't need you to speak the words aloud. It's your own fear that keeps you from speaking. There's something else, I know that too. You won't tell me what it is, but I know it's the reason you look so gu
ilty when I come home and tell you to stop plotting your escape. I –"

  "I can't tell you," I whisper, the way I have so many times before.

  "You say that, the way you always do, but it makes no sense. I put up with it because I love you, Paige. There is no other reason. But you must know it hurts me to think you keep things from me. It –"

  "You wouldn't believe me," I cut him off again. "You would think me mad. You would make Hildy pour the tincture down my throat every day."

  "Yes, and you say that, too. You might be surprised, girl."

  We're talking in soft voices, because Willa is asleep. I'm beginning to tire, too, and the fire-warmed air in the roundhouse is only making it worse. A sudden recklessness, like that which overcame me earlier in the day, rushes through me again. I turn slightly, nestling into Eirik's comforting hugeness. "There's always enough to eat where I come from, you know. You keep telling me there's more here, but you're wrong. Where I come from, there is always enough food."

  Eirik chuckles, and I assume he thinks I'm joking. "We found you in a field outside a peasant village, girl."

  "You did," I reply, "but that's not where I'm from. If you thought it was, you'd stop asking me all the time."

  "So you are a daughter of a King's man? Or the daughter of the King himself. I've thought as much for many moons now, girl. It's not just all those gleaming white teeth in your mouth – there's no explanation for those, other than luck – but it's when you act the way you did today. As if you are owed a deference no peasant or slave would ever dream of expecting. You act as a higher."

  I shake my head. "I'm not the King's daughter, though. I'm not a higher. And my teeth are white because I go to the dentist every year."

  "Dentist?" Eirik asks, and I almost laugh at the sound of a modern word coming out of his mouth. "A healer?"

  "No, a dentist. Dentists are like healers, but they only care for people's teeth. And they're much better at it than a healer."

  Our voices are light as we speak, affectionate. We're both dancing along the line between a playful, unserious conversation and a different, much more serious one. But what harm can it do? I am with the Jarl, and he isn't going to hurt me. I can give him some details, it's not as if he'll be able to guess.