The Viking's Cursed Bride

by Mairibeth Macmillan

“Take the boy in?” Håkon glared at Tormod.

  “There are not as many burns on your body as there are on this child. Perhaps you did not try as hard as the boy to put out the fire in your own field,” Tormod said, relieved when there was a ripple of laughter from most of those gathered in the hall. “He did more to try to put out the fire than anyone else. And he will recognise these men if they return.”

  “And if he causes any more damage?”

  “Then we will deal with him as we would any proven traitor.” Tormod made sure to sound as definite as possible. “And when we find those who attacked us in this way, they will be dealt with. You have my oath on this!”

  A great cheer sounded in the hall.

  Tormod hoped they would find out who had done this and quickly. His people had to believe he had only their interests at heart. Which he did, but he also knew they could not survive here surrounded by enemies that they were only going to antagonise and not at least attempt to work beside. He could only hope that the attack had been a one off. Somehow, he doubted it.

  Lord Cadell had lied. Or perhaps it was as the boy claimed, that Lady Ula made most of the decisions there now.

  “Björn, arrange a better watch on the eastern coast at night. Get the boy to tell you where he crossed the sea-loch and where he landed. Håkon, I take it you have searched and found no sign of a boat?”

  There was a long pause and some shuffling of feet, then Håkon took a deep breath and sighed. “No, herre.”

  “So, there is no way that the boy acted alone.”

  “No, herre.” There was silence for a moment, then Håkon continued. “Herre, if the boy proves to be a good worker, I will be happy to take him in permanently.”

  Tormod nodded at the man. Inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. This could have been disastrous, however it seemed there was a chance it would work out for them all.

  “Swear this to me. Swear on my sword,” Tormod ordered.

  Håkon stepped forward and swore the oath on Tormod’s sword.

  “Justice has been served!” Tormod shouted.

  The other villagers nodded, not overjoyed, but satisfied.

  “Håkon will take the boy in and give him a home in exchange for work,” Tormod explained to her.

  “Elisedd,” Aoife said. “His name is Elisedd.”

  “Elisedd,” Tormod addressed him in Brythonic. “Håkon will be your new master. He will take you in and take care of you, and in return you will help him work on and protect his farm.”

  “But…” the boy began, fear etched on his face as he looked at the farmer who had only recently been calling for his death.

  Aoife knelt down and leaned towards Elisedd.

  Tormod envied the easy affection visible between his wife and the boy. It reminded him of the way Ingrid had focused all her attention on her son, Einar, leaving Tormod out of their family group. Einar had always tried to form a relationship with Tormod, but Ingrid had constantly driven a wedge between them. A wedge Tormod had been happy to leave in place after her death. The boy had not been responsible for what had happened, but he was a constant reminder, nevertheless. He had hoped that there would be some affection possible in this marriage, but with a child from amongst her own people to fuss over, would Tormod be an outsider in his own family once more? If he kept Aoife and Elisedd apart, would his marriage stand a better chance of success?

  He tried to push the thought from his head. This was a good solution to the current problem for all concerned. It was not about him being selfish. He couldn’t assume Aoife was anything like his first wife. He should try to trust her. He sighed. It was difficult. It would be difficult for any man, let alone one who had already suffered due to the lies of a woman.

  “I will come and visit you,” she said, then glanced at Tormod, a scared look in her eye. He forced himself to nod at her, he must try to be benevolent, and was gratified when she smiled. “I will visit you and make sure you are all right and we will make a new home here.”

  Elisedd bit his lower lip and tears filled his eyes as Håkon approached.

  Aoife looked desperately at Tormod.

  “No harm will come to you,” Tormod assured the boy and glared at Håkon before repeating the statement in Norse.

  Håkon agreed and put out a hand to Elisedd. When the boy did not react, Håkon knelt down and repeated the gesture.

  “Go,” said Aoife. “These people have been kind to me so far. We must learn to trust them.”

  Elisedd dashed the tears from his eyes, then took the offered hand and walked with Håkon from the hall.

  Tormod stared around at all the other villagers, meeting as many of their gazes as possible, hoping that none decided his judgment had been wrong. They seemed cautious but not averse to his decision, and Tormod took that as a positive. No one had challenged him before. He had to hope they would not start now.

  Aoife was straining to watch the boy leave so he helped her off the dais and led her to the door of the hall. They waited until the boy and Håkon disappeared out of sight on the path over the hill. There had been no sign of Håkon mistreating the boy and Tormod was sure he wouldn’t. The man had no sons of his own—he may welcome the boy in the long term of his own accord. His wife, Magda, certainly would.

  “Thank you,” Aoife said.

  “There is no need to thank me. I do not think the boy had done anything wrong. If I did, I would have acted differently. His burns had been tended,” Tormod said by way of reassurance. “I believe Håkon’s wife, Magda, will care for him well.”

  She stared at him, then nodded slowly. He paused, unsure how to broach the next subject. Then he decided to just ask what needed to be asked. “Could your father have been behind this? The agreement was we would live side by side in peace, and yet someone has attacked my lands.”

  Aoife pulled her hand from his and took a few steps away. He let her go and waited until most of the villagers had filed out of the hall and started to make their way back to their homes.

  “Perhaps news of our wedding and of the alliance has not spread to everyone yet,” she said. “I am sure once it does…” she trailed off, avoiding looking at him.

  “Let us hope it is the case,” Tormod said, unsure of what he would do if it turned out not to be the case. Aoife was clearly as unsure as he was himself.

  Chapter Five

  Aoife turned to her husband after they finished watching the last of the villagers leave the hall. “You truly believe Elisedd will be cared for?”

  “If he works well for Håkon, then yes,” Tormod replied.

  Aoife believed him, however, she’d seen the faces of some of the villagers. They didn’t trust the boy, didn’t trust her. Her hope of finding a home here faded a little more, although she forced herself to smile at her new husband. “I look forward to visiting him.”

  Tormod tensed beside her and stared after Håkon. “Why?”

  She drew in a deep breath. Why was he so suspicious? Elisedd was the only one of her countrymen she was likely to be able to see. Surely he must realise it was hard to believe Håkon would have changed his opinion of the boy so quickly. Only an hour ago he’d been demanding he be executed. “To… To make sure he is being cared for. His mother may have been my maid but she was also my friend.”

  “Håkon has sworn he will care for him,” Tormod stated, still not looking at her. “He is no oath breaker.”

  “And what of the others?” she asked tentatively. “It is not just Håkon who wished to see him dead.”

  Finally Tormod looked at her. “A judgment has been made. There are none here who will go against a verdict reached at a Thing.”

  “A Thing?”

  “The meeting we just had. It was an official judgment. The villagers will abide by it — all of them.”

  Aoife thought for a moment, hoping Tormod was right. She realised just how at the mercy of others she lived, and now Elisedd’s safety rested in their hands also. “I would just like to make sure he is all right… Someti
mes.”

  Tormod moved to stand in front of her, his feet placed wide apart. She couldn’t take her eyes from him.

  “Is the boy of more concern to you than me, your husband?” he asked coldly.

  Aoife hesitated before answering. “Of course not.”

  “And yet, you ask to see him when I have already assured you of his safety,” he said. “Do you not trust my word?”

  She drew in a breath, realised that she had hesitated too long when Tormod started to turn away from her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He stopped but made no effort to turn back.

  “He is the son of my maid. Former maid. She was not allowed to accompany me to the abbey, of course.” She stopped, tears threatening as she remembered the ugly scene when her father had sent her away.

  Rhiannon had watched with tears in her eyes, knowing she was to serve Ula’s youngest daughter from then on, a spoilt, difficult child who made everyone around her’s life a misery.

  Elisedd had chased after the cart that took her to the abbey, screaming her name over and over, until she’d had to cover her ears to block out the sound of his distress. A distress equal to her own.

  “I am alone here,” she said. “He is simply a reminder of home in better times.” She grimaced. Those times may have ben better than her time at the abbey but they had been far from ideal. Still, Rhiannon’s company had made her life more bearable in so many ways.

  For a long moment Tormod stood. Then he faced her once more. For a moment she thought that he understood then his eyes narrowed. “You consider yourself alone here, despite our marriage? Has our marriage meant nothing to you?”

  The question hit her with an almost physical force. Her head snapped up and her jaw dropped. “Yes, it has.” This was not what she had meant. She frowned, struggling to understand why he was so suspicious of her motives to see Elisedd. Surely it was not a difficult thing to understand, wo wish to spend time with someone you shared a comon past with.”

  “If this alliance is tested,” he said. “How can I be sure you will stand with me as a wife should?”

  “You can be sure,” Aoife stated firmly. “I have made my vows, I will honour them.”

  They stared at each other.

  Aoife’s thoughts raced, while a chill swept through her body. No matter what she did or said, her husband simply did not trust her, and she was powerless to change his mind. She had done everything asked of her so far, and yet it did not seem to be enough.

  Feeling like she had little to lose, she stormed past him and headed straight back to their room. Once there, she closed the door firmly behind her and crossed to the the chink in the wall which let her see a little of the outside world. Some villagers still stood around talking in small, huddled groups. Most were starting to drift apart and get on with their normal, everyday tasks.

  Aoife closed her eyes and sighed. It was early days, but if even Tormod didn’t trust her, then what chance did she have here? Would there ever be somewhere where she was not seen as different, an outsider? That she was trusted?

  Maybe she should take Elisedd and return to her father. She leaned against the wall, wondering whether to run out, or to stay and try to sort this out. There would be many things to establish. Life was all about compromises and fitting in with the demands of others. She heard the door open and close, and decided to ignore it.

  She opened her eyes when Tormod’s hand landed on her shoulder and he turned her to face him.

  “This morning,” he began. “You were talking in your sleep. Of fields and fires. You said it was only a dream, and yet it happened, and Elisedd was there. The boy that you wish to spend so much time with, was there. Why?”

  She nearly told him that it was not important, and would have done had it not been for the anguish in his expression. For a man who appeared to be so sure of himself, her loyalty was clearly something that concerned him. Her treatment here might have been far, far different. She had not been threatened in any way. Maybe it was time to repay him for his kindness by telling the truth. Or a version of it.

  “Sometimes I dream things. It is not something I control, not something I want. I played no part in this. Please, trust me. This is my home now. I owe my loyalty to you, and you only. It was naught but a dream.”

  Tormod ran his hand over her hair and cupped the back of her head. For a moment he did nothing more, then he gently angled her towards him and closed his mouth over hers. His kiss was warm and passionate, and her eyes drifted shut as she kissed him back as hungrily as he kissed her. Without thought, she took a step towards him, their bodies colliding and moulding against one another. As long as he was kissing her, she felt safe. Sure of him and his need for her.

  She allowed herself to get lost in the kiss, wishing it would never end, or if it did, hoping somehow it would have solved everything. Of course, that was simply not possible, and all too soon his mouth lifted from hers and he set them apart. Reluctantly she opened her eyes.

  “You must understand this is difficult for both of us,” Tormod said. “I have a village whose safety I have to ensure. I cannot…” He turned away from her. “I cannot allow lust to cloud my judgment.” He looked back at her, and she thought she saw guilt in his face—but why?

  They stared at each other and her heart beat faster at the knowledge he did indeed feel lustful towards her. It was a long way from love, although perhaps it showed some level of connection between them. A connection that could be developed over time.

  “Please,” she said. “I would like to see Elisedd again. And if I see him alone, he may tell me more of what is happening with my father than he would share with any of your people. Perhaps he will tell me who was behind the attack. He knows, but was too afraid to tell me just now. If I know that, then I will tell you and it might help you, help the village.”

  “Very well,” Tormod replied. “Tomorrow, I have promised to help Håkon clear up the damage and replant what we can. I will have Ragna bring you to us at the end of the afternoon and you can speak to the boy.”

  “Thank you.” She sighed and sat down on the bed, staring at her hands. “Elisedd and I are outsiders here… however, if you are sure he will be all right, then I will believe you.”

  “You are not an outsider. You are my wife.” He sounded angry, but Aoife knew she was right. Whatever Tormod said, not all of his people saw it that way.

  “But still an outsider, the daughter of an enemy.”

  “A new ally,” Tormod corrected.

  She watched him for a moment. He really seemed to believe what he said. The thought that her stepmother would betray her in an instant and worse, persuade her father to do so also was something she could no longer put off telling him.

  “Are you sure you can trust my father?” she asked. Perhaps it was foolish. Perhaps she should go on allowing him to believe it, but she couldn’t. It may not make her own life any safer, but now there was Elisedd to think about too. The Norsemen wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if they thought they were being betrayed.

  “No.”

  She blinked. “But…”

  “I never trust anyone,” he said shortly and left the room.

  Stunned, she stared after him for a moment, and when the door banged shut, she rested her head in her hands. She didn’t know whether his words were a relief or not. He already didn’t trust her father and had still been kind to her.

  She tried to puzzle out in her head just what had happened and what was going on. It turned out, she needn’t have worried about Tormod trusting her father. That really had been rather naive. No one became jarl by blindly trusting everyone around them. She smiled to herself. This husband of hers was no fool.

  A knock at the door indicated Ragna’s arrival. “My lady.”

  “Please, just Aoife.”

  “Very well,” Ragna smiled, and immediately Aoife knew she’d done the right thing. “If you are ready, I will take you through the hall and some of the village so you c
an meet the villagers properly and see how we do things here. There are some decisions that need to be made and I have been putting them off.”

  “Should Tormod not be—”

  “Decisions that should be made by the jarl’s wife,” Ragna clarified. “Not things that are of interest to the jarl.”

  “I was brought up knowing how to run a household. I’m sure there are differences and your ways…”

  Ragna’s warm smile made her feel much better. “I’m sure much of it will be the same, the basics at the very least, and I will be here to help you. And there are many things you can teach us, about some of the native plants and your seasons and the people who live here.” Ragna stopped speaking and peered at her. “These were your father’s lands, were they not?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know the people who lived here?”

  “What?” Aoife blinked, then racked her brains, trying to remember if she had. “Perhaps.” She frowned. “I’m not sure. I don’t believe anyone has lived here for quite a few years at any rate. The winds in winter can be fierce. I had never visited here, only seen it from the far shore.”

  “It had been abandoned when we arrived. At first I thought that was a good thing, although now I am not so sure,” Ragna confessed.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, if we had won the land in battle, it would have been truly ours. As it is, the previous inhabitants may well be still close by and none too happy about our arrival.”

  Aoife didn’t know what to say. Of course, Ragna was probably right. She struggled to remember what she knew, but she had spent so little time at her father’s fort after the siege of Alt Clut that she wasn’t sure she knew that information. And she had never ridden out with her father to visit their surrounding lands. That would have been for a son to do.

  “My father’s steward, Rhydderch, would know,” Aoife said. “Whatever has happened in the last two years, I cannot help you with.” Aoife left the fact that Rhydderch was unlikely to ever share that information unsaid.

  “Now,” said Ragna, “let us see what we can do this morning. Tormod tells me we are going to visit the boy at Håkon’s farm tomorrow.”