The Viking's Bride

by Darlene Mindrup

  She searched the farmyard, wondering where her father had disappeared to. He hadn’t gone with the others, nor had he come inside. She decided he was probably close by, checking on the animals.

  Finna followed her to where they kept the small hand-pulled cart for transporting goods. Mist stowed her sword in the cart and lifted the tongue by the handle, surprised that her strength had returned enough to allow her to move it with ease. It was good to finally feel more like her old self.

  As they walked along, Finna peppered her with questions, especially once she found out that Mist had been with Finn in two of his battles.

  The wooden wheels of the cart bumped and rattled over the rocky ground as they pulled it along. It took them some time to reach the tree line, and Mist realized that they would have to hurry if they were going to make it back in time to bring Brita the needed wood. Still, she took the time to savor the peace of one of her favorite spots. The screech of a white hawk pierced the still morning air as it flew high in the sky overhead, searching for prey. Small birch trees still dotted the landscape, and the melted ice from an inland glacier rushed over the hill, spilling out into a thundering waterfall and then onward to the sea by a twisting, winding river.

  But Finna was staring awestruck at the majestic sight of the impressive waterfall. Mist couldn’t blame her; it stuck her the same way every time she came here. Despite its many drawbacks, she never got tired of the island’s rugged beauty.

  After they had been working for some time, they seated themselves on the hard ground, their backs against the rock face of the hill. Mist pulled out a small bag of bread and cheese.

  Finna’s chatter as they ate allowed Mist’s mind to wander to thoughts of Valdyr. The connection between them was something she didn’t understand, but she felt it growing stronger every day. It was becoming harder to imagine her life without him. When he was gone, the energy in the room went with him. In such a short time, he had embedded himself into the very fabric of her being.

  When they had finished their meal, Mist got up and dropped the bag into the back of the cart, brushing her hands against her kirtle to free them of clinging crumbs.

  “We had better hurry and finish,” Mist warned, noticing the descending sun. Finna agreed, and they both set about clearing the area of as much brush as they could find.

  “Be careful,” Mist warned as Finna clambered up the steep hillside in search of larger pieces of wood.

  She bent to check a crack she had noticed earlier in the wooden wheel, hoping that the wheel would last until they reached home. Finna’s scream brought Mist upright, her heart pounding with dread. She whirled to see Finna slithering down the rocky hillside, scattering loose rocks as she came, a look of pure terror on her face.

  At the top of the hill, roaring in challenge, was the largest white bear Mist had ever seen. Her first thought was that Valdyr had been wrong; the creature had not left the island or been slain by one of the other settlements. The next thought was that she was foolish not to have brought a long spear with her.

  The blood seemed to congeal in her veins, freezing her into immobility as the animal dropped to all fours and began lumbering after Finna.

  Another scream from Finna startled Mist into action. Grabbing the sword from the cart, she lunged forward, issuing the battle cry she had used when charging onto the battlefield. Hot blood charged through her veins as her mind came into sharp focus. Without further thought, she ran directly into the path of the charging bear.

  She sent a prayer heavenward, certain that she was about to meet her God face-to-face, for there was no way that her light sword would penetrate the dense hide of the bear enough to slay him.

  * * *

  Valdyr watched the men load the last of the whale meat onto the carts. They might get tired of the brined meat before the winter was over, but at least they wouldn’t starve.

  He inhaled as a cool breeze blew across his sweat-soaked garments. Several of the men were gathering whale bone to be used for carving in the coming winter months when darkness would force them inside for most of the day. Nothing would be wasted of this bounty sent to them from the sea.

  Amund joined him as the wagons began the return trip. They followed along behind, weary, yet pleased with their good fortune.

  “We need to prepare the ship for winter,” Amund suggested.

  Valdyr nodded. “Egil has a boathouse we can use, although he tore apart his ship and used the wood for other things.”

  Valdyr thought it rather foolish to destroy your one means of transportation off this island but, then again, wood was scarce here. He decided that if he stayed, whatever the need, he would not destroy his ship.

  “I will set some of the men to work on it as soon as we return,” Amund told him.

  Valdyr glanced at the sun and knew that it would begin its descent soon. The daylight hours were growing shorter each day, and the long darkness would soon be upon them. He was concerned about how his men were going to face the long hours with so few entertainments and no women to keep them company. Past experience didn’t bode well for the future’s peace.

  Amund’s quiet voice penetrated his reflections.

  “I thought we had seen the last of him.”

  Valdyr followed his look and saw what had caught the other man’s attention. The tracks of a large bear were imprinted into the wet ground, too near the farm for Valdyr’s liking.

  “They are fresh,” Amund said, bending down and measuring the size of the print against his own large hand. If the prints were any indication, the creature was massive.

  “He will need to be hunted,” Valdyr said.

  Amund agreed. They would have to retrieve weapons more suitable to such a quest, though, for going against such a beast with nothing but a sword would be foolhardy.

  They reached the farm and, as had been his wont lately, the first thing he did was search out Mist. When he couldn’t find her, he felt a vague disquiet that he tried to brush aside.

  “Mist is not here?” he asked Brita.

  Something in his voice must have alerted her. She set aside the round of cheese she had been salting, her face pensive. “Is something amiss?”

  He debated whether to tell her or not and then realized that everyone needed to be made aware of the danger.

  “We spotted the tracks of a large bear near the farm.”

  Her eyes widened, the color draining from her face. He felt his heart plunge with a premonition of what she was about to say.

  “Mist and Finna went to gather wood.”

  Valdyr tried to rein in his panic. More than likely the bear had taken a separate path from the two women. Still, he couldn’t completely stifle the fear that was trying to swell through him.

  “How long ago?”

  “Several hours.” Brita’s voice was a mere whisper.

  “Did she take a weapon?”

  “Only her sword.”

  Valdyr blew out a breath. That paltry weapon would be no deterrent against such a creature.

  Amund joined them, handing Valdyr his bow, arrows and spear. One blond brow cocked upward. “Is something amiss?”

  “Mist and the girl, Finna, have gone inland,” Valdyr told him heavily.

  Amund’s face settled into grim lines. He hoisted his bag of arrows over his shoulder. “Then we had better hurry.”

  They didn’t waste any time. As soon as they were free of the rocked compound they set out at a run. If Mist had been gone several hours, she was way ahead of them.

  It soon became apparent from the tracks that the bear was following Mist and Finna. Valdyr had never held with the idea of deities, but he now took a moment to ask for Mist’s safety from every one he could remember, including the one she believed in. Valdyr didn’t know His name, but he petitioned Him nevertheless.

  Th
e sun was already near the horizon when they topped a hill and came upon a scene that turned his blood to ice.

  With nothing but her sword, Mist stood facing one of the largest bears he had ever seen. The whooshing arc of the blade forced the enraged beast to retreat, but only temporarily. There was blood on the bear and on Mist, and Valdyr wasn’t certain who it belonged to. The bear would charge forward, and Mist would thrust her sword at the only vulnerable spot that was available. It was then that Valdyr realized that the blood was coming from the bear’s nose, which only enraged the animal further. Before long, the bear’s fury would overcome its pain and then nothing would stop it.

  “By my beard!” Amund whispered in horror.

  One massive paw swiped the sword from Mist’s hand, sending it skittering across the rocky ground, and Valdyr suddenly catapulted into action. With a bone-chilling war cry, he charged down the hill, pulling an arrow from the quiver and nocking it onto the bow as he ran.

  Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that. Both the bear and Mist turned to face Valdyr. With that split second of opportunity, Valdyr sent the arrow unerringly toward its target. The arrow pierced through the bear’s eye. It reared up, pawing at the arrow. A second arrow followed swiftly from behind Valdyr, embedding itself into the bear’s heart. With a roar, the animal staggered backward before finally collapsing to the ground in a thundering heap.

  Valdyr didn’t stop running until he reached Mist’s side. Knowing that Amund would finish what they had started, Valdyr didn’t bother to see if the creature was truly dead. Instead, he threw down his bow and grabbed Mist, pulling her into his arms. She clung to him as tightly as moss clung to rock, and he couldn’t tell if the trembling he felt was hers or his.

  He had to bend to hear her quavering words. “You found us.”

  Tucking her head under his chin, he tightened his hold. “Of a certainty,” he agreed, his voice growing huskier as he thought of what might have been. “There is nowhere that you can go where I will not find you.”

  He felt her tense at the intimidating words that he had meant only to be reassuring, and he reluctantly allowed her to ease back from his tight hold. She must have been truly in shock for she had no words.

  Valdyr lifted her arm where blood covered her sleeve, and he felt his own blood drain from his face. She followed his look.

  “It is not mine,” she told him, her voice quivering with reaction.

  “You are not injured?” he asked, still searching, and she shook her head.

  When he finally looked down into her tear-laden eyes, he forgot Amund’s presence, he forgot the bear, he forgot everything but the feel of her in his arms.

  When he lowered his head, she didn’t pull away as he expected. Instead, she leaned into his kiss, her lips tentative and exploring. When she clutched his tunic as though it was some kind of lifeline, he had to leash the powerful feelings that surged through him, afraid that he would frighten her with their intensity. He sensed that although she would courageously face a bear with nothing but a broadsword, that courage would fail her when faced by the feelings that seemed to be growing between them every day.

  “That was the bravest thing I have ever seen!”

  Finna’s excited voice broke them apart as she came out of her hiding place behind the cart, and Mist quickly pulled out of his embrace. She once again retreated behind a cool reserve that firmly put Valdyr at a safe distance. Valdyr caught Amund’s amused expression and gave him a look that warned him it would be wise to keep silent.

  “So,” Amund asked, “who gets this impressive pelt?”

  Chapter 10

  The onset of winter came with a roaring storm system. One day the weather was fair and warm, the next icy winds blasted through the island, bringing with them a bone-wrenching cold. The fiery mountain had finally settled into silence, and its top once again became covered in snow.

  Edda continued to fret over Finn’s absence, and the longer he delayed, the more concerned Mist became, as well.

  Iliana, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content without her husband. It wasn’t the first time Mist had seen a loveless marriage, but it certainly wasn’t something she would wish on her friend. Although divorce was practiced often by her people, contracts made between families often kept partners together when they might have otherwise split. She had long ago decided that there would never be a divorce for her since Drustan had told her that it was something God hated. It also made her more leery of entering into such a relationship if she couldn’t be assured of the outcome. Just because she didn’t believe in divorce didn’t mean that Valdyr would agree.

  The daylight hours had shortened until there were only a few each day now. Although everyone thought of ways to keep themselves occupied, boredom was never far away, especially for men used to physical activity. The besting contests were the main way the men exerted some of their stored energy. Tempers grew short and, if not for Valdyr’s commanding presence, Mist had no doubt fights would have ensued when arguments erupted over who was the winner of such games.

  Mist sat huddled under the white bear pelt that Valdyr had tanned and then presented to her. Since she hadn’t slain the bear in the first place, she didn’t think she deserved such a fine gift; however, Valdyr had disagreed with her. The honest admiration in his eyes had given her ego a much-needed boost.

  She glanced around the room, yearning for the long days of summer when she could go to her thinking spot. Alone. With everyone having to stay close to the farm, she was constantly surrounded by people.

  Her father was at the big table sharing horns of mead with the men, all except Bjorn, who was sitting with Astrid, presumably discussing their wedding that would occur in the spring, and Valdyr, who was sitting near the fire sharpening the heads of his arrows.

  Mist was thrilled for her sister, knowing that Astrid had found true love. Her father had finally bowed to the inevitable and agreed to their marriage. Since their union would join the two families, there was no longer any need for Mist to join herself to Valdyr. The thought didn’t please her as she had expected it to, and it didn’t take much reasoning to understand why; she was very near to falling in love with Valdyr. She had known it the moment his arms had wrapped around her after slaying the bear. The overwhelming feeling of having come home left her shaken.

  A rapping at the door startled her and brought instant silence to the room. The darkness made it dangerous to be out and about, especially on a moonless night. The thought that one of the servants might be injured had Mist pushing away the pelt and scrambling to her feet to answer it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Valdyr rise to his feet, as well.

  She threw back the door, catching her breath as a gust of icy wind rushed in. Someone was lurking in the shadows, but Mist couldn’t make out the features until he stepped into the light. She opened the door wider and stepped back.

  “Lord Finn,” she said in surprise.

  The man looked weary and half-frozen. Motioning him inside, Mist quickly shut the door behind him.

  A squeal had Finn looking past her shoulder, a tired smile curling his mouth as Edda hastened across the room. Mist hurriedly stepped aside to allow the excited woman to pass, smiling as she threw herself into her husband’s arms.

  The room once again broke into excited chatter as Egil came forward to greet their guest. When Egil held out his arm, Finn grasped it at the forearm while keeping his other arm firmly around his wife’s substantial waist.

  “Welcome, my friend,” Egil told him.

  “Come closer to the fire, Lord Finn,” Mist encouraged, and Finn followed her into the room.

  Iliana looked past his shoulder before she turned questioning eyes his way.

  “Knut has decided to stay with Balder at Straumfjord.”

  Finn and Valdyr shared a knowing look, and Valdyr gave a slight nod of
acknowledgment. Valdyr glanced Mist’s way, and she once again felt the warmth of his protection, just like those moments when he had held her in his arms and assured her that there was nowhere she could go that he would not find her. Was Valdyr’s concern emotionally motivated or merely a form of possession? She didn’t think that he would readily give up something that he thought belonged to him.

  Had the kiss they shared meant as much to him as it had to her? It was that kiss more than anything that had helped her to realize it would be no hardship to be wed to such a man. If only he was a child of the Christ, she knew she would have willingly given her heart to him long ago.

  Mist saw that instead of being distressed at her husband’s absence, Iliana looked relieved. She couldn’t blame the woman. Mist would rather face an army on a battlefield than be married to such a one.

  Finn’s family gathered around him, anxiously waiting to hear what he had to say.

  “I found us a place. We have built a small house, and I left the men behind to watch over it while I came to get you.” His face set into immovable lines. “It is not the best land, but it was the best that I could do.”

  “But, Lord Finn,” Mist objected. “How will you survive with no supplies to last you the winter?”

  “A good question,” Egil inserted, turning his look once more on Finn. Mist could see that her father had something on his mind, possibly a solution to Finn’s problem.

  Finn’s mouth set firmly. “We will manage.” He held his hands out to the fire, refusing to look at his wife.

  Edda looked dismayed, but remained silent. She would do whatever her husband decreed, not merely to obey, but because of the deep love and commitment she so often showed toward him. That was the kind of marriage Mist had always hoped to have. She only hoped that Finn’s pride wouldn’t cause his family to suffer.

  “I have a suggestion,” Egil told him. Finn paused while Egil seated himself on the stool beside him. He waited to hear what Egil had to say, but his look was hardly encouraging.