The Viking's Bride

by Darlene Mindrup

  “I have a tenant farm near here...”

  “I will not be some man’s chattel,” Finn told him harshly, rising to his feet. The flickering flames of the fire highlighted his forbidding features, his good eye gleaming with his anger. The scar on his face stood out in sharp relief as a tide of hot color rushed into his face.

  Egil slowly rose to face him, his irritation at having been interrupted clearly evident. Egil scowled at him. “You did not let me finish.”

  The two men glared at each other like two dogs, their hackles raised, fighting over the same bone. Somehow, there had to be a way for the two to compromise to everyone’s satisfaction.

  “Let us hear what Lord Egil has to say,” Edda pleaded softly. Finn looked down at her, and the hardness left his face. He turned back to Egil.

  “My pardon. Please, say what is on your mind.”

  They grudgingly resumed their seats, and Mist fought back a grin. No wonder she had always admired Finn; he reminded her much of her father.

  “As I was saying,” Egil began, “I have a tenant farm several miles distant that has been left fallow since the previous tenant decided to go back to Norway.”

  Finn folded his arms but remained silent.

  “My daughter has told me that she owes her life to you.” When Finn opened his mouth, Egil held up a hand. “I do not have enough gold, silver, furs or anything else to repay you for such a service. No amount of tribute in the world would do so,” Egil choked, and Finn’s hard features softened as he realized that Egil was speaking from his heart.

  “I would like to give that land to you.”

  Edda sucked in a breath, her hand tightening on Finn’s shoulder. Finn glanced up at Edda, reaching up to place his larger hand over hers, but quickly returned his attention to Egil.

  “That is a generous offer, but one I cannot accept. I may have saved Mist’s life once or twice, but she returned the favor tenfold with my men.”

  Egil’s mouth set uncompromisingly. “Be that as it may, it is a debt I fully intend to repay. And there is another benefit in it for me. Having a man such as yourself so near assures me of even greater safety. I believe we could come to some kind of understanding.”

  Mist sighed in relief. A vinfengi! Of course. A contract based upon friendship, much as that that existed between Egil and Valdyr’s father. A vinfengi was even more binding than the marriage contract brokered between her father and Valdyr’s.

  She could see Finn considering what her father was suggesting. As land became more scarce, those seeking to hang on to what they had would need all the help they could get. Together, they would control a large portion of the southern part of the island where the grazing was at its best.

  “Of course,” Egil continued, “the farm has been sitting idle for many months and will need some work to make it habitable again.” He suddenly took an interest in his fingernails. “You are welcome to stay here until springtime,” he suggested.

  Mist could see that Finn was about to object until he looked around at his family, their hopeful expressions bringing a quick frown to his face.

  “Give me a night to think on it,” Finn suggested with less enthusiasm than Mist had hoped for.

  Egil relaxed against his seat. “Of course. Let me know your decision in the morning.”

  Mist noticed Valdyr’s set face. No doubt he would have something to say in regards to Knut.

  When everyone had sought their pallets for the night, Mist lay in her spot listening to the whispering voices around her. She couldn’t make out the words, but she had no doubt of what was being discussed. After several hours of wakefulness, she finally got to her feet when she heard Brita stirring about. As they began to prepare the food for the day, Iliana joined them. Mist smiled, and handed her the quern for grinding the wheat.

  “Could you not sleep, either?”

  She shook her head, the dark circles under eyes telling their own story.

  They worked in companionable silence until everyone was awake and moving about. When the sun eventually rose, everyone hastened to use the opportunity of the few hours of daylight to get their chores done. There was little to do outside except feed and water the wintered stock that were safely ensconced in their barns.

  Inside, there was much more to be done. The women were busy spinning and carding the sheep’s wool, repairing and sewing garments.

  Brita was adding embroidery to the hem of a new dress for Astrid while Mist pressed wrinkles out of the freshly washed clothing on the clothing board. Mist envied Brita her patience and expertise, and she loved the final result, but she herself had never had the persistence to learn the complicated stitches.

  “Valdyr is a fine man,” Brita said without looking up from her work.

  Where had that come from? Brows furrowed, Mist told her, “So you said before.”

  Brita finally met her eyes, and Mist was taken aback by the determination in them.

  “It is obvious to everyone that you have feelings for the man. Why are you trying so hard to hide it?”

  Mist felt chilled clear through. Was this true? She glanced surreptitiously around but didn’t see anyone looking their way. Catching her sister’s eye once again, she shrugged.

  “He is not a Christian.”

  Brita’s needlework fell to her lap, her mouth dropping open in astonishment. Brita’s voice rose several octaves. “That is why you are keeping him at arm’s length?”

  Irritated at her sister’s inability to understand the devotion she felt to her Lord, she snapped back, “Yes. That is why.”

  Mist couldn’t miss the sadness that crept into her sister’s eyes as she slowly shook her head. “Life is short, Mist. No one knows that better than me. Don’t let your stubbornness deny you a chance at happiness.”

  She needed no one to tell her how short life was. It was the very thing that helped her to focus, not on this life, but the one to come.

  “That is what I have been trying to tell you since I came back from Norway,” she reminded Brita softly.

  Both busy with their own thoughts, they dropped into silence.

  Mist glanced up from the pressing board and saw Finn and Edda approaching her father later in the day. Mist exchanged a look with Brita, and they both continued their work while stretching their ears to overhear the conversation.

  Egil motioned for them to have a seat, and pushed a plate of bread and cheese toward them.

  Finn cleared his throat as though the words he wanted to say were lodged inside.

  “I have decided to accept your offer, on one condition.”

  Egil tensed, and Mist closed her eyes, a sigh escaping in frustration. This was not an auspicious way to begin a conversation with her father. He slowly looked up, his face set in a determined line.

  “I wish to pay for the land and purchase a few of your livestock to begin my own herds again.”

  Egil leaned back, glancing curiously from one to the other. “And how did you intend to pay? It was my understanding that you lost everything.”

  “Not quite everything,” Finn stated and turned to Edda.

  Edda reached behind her neck and unfastened a necklace that had been hidden beneath her tunic. She pulled it forth and the movement of the silver coins caught the light from the fire, sending glittering prisms dancing about the room.

  Mist’s wide eyes matched those of her father.

  As Edda handed him the necklace, Egil slowly reached out and allowed the silver to glide through his fingers. He looked at Finn in question.

  “They are Arabic dirhems. It is how the Muslim people trade. Instead of trading with goods, they use coins to purchase items.”

  A gleam entered Egil’s eyes, although Mist didn’t understand the concept behind such an exchange. What good were silver coins here on this island? You couldn
’t eat them; you couldn’t wear them. They were nothing more than an ostentatious show of wealth.

  “How did you come by them?” Egil asked, not yet returning them.

  “They were given to me as tribute.”

  Which meant that Finn had received them on one of his many raids down the European coast. Mist felt a keen disappointment in the man.

  Egil glanced up, slowly closing his hand around the necklace as he studied both Finn and Edda. He finally nodded to Finn. “I will accept them in exchange for some of my livestock, but the farm is still yours as a gift.”

  The two men stared at each other, and Mist held her breath. Finally, Finn reached out his hand, sealing the deal by clasping Egil’s forearm.

  Chapter 11

  Each day the men went to the fjord where the stockfish were plentiful. When they returned, they would spend hours processing and wind drying them. The stockfish had become a staple here and abroad, and they were worth a lot as trading goods. The dried fish would keep almost indefinitely, making them easy to transport long distances across the seas.

  Since the beached whale had increased their stored supplies for the winter, Egil was able to give Finn several head of sheep and cattle in exchange for the coin necklace without worrying about running short of supplies himself. It bothered Mist that her father had taken Finn’s one source of supplying his family after losing everything else, but Finn was right; you couldn’t eat silver coins.

  What exactly her father was going to do with the coins she had no idea. Perhaps when the traders came in the spring they would be willing to accept them in exchange for the goods they would need. If not, she could see no purpose in keeping them except for their shining beauty. And again, you could not eat beauty.

  Valdyr began to seek Mist out more often when she wasn’t busy, encouraging her to play a game of chess or hnefatfl with him. She enjoyed their verbal sparring at such times; she especially loved seeing the little crinkled laugh lines that fanned out around his eyes when he grew amused at her attempts to defeat him. She knew that he was trying to woo her, and her heart thrilled at his gentle attempts, but her mind warned her about allowing things to get out of hand.

  Each day her feelings for him grew, yet she still held herself aloof. The disparity between his paganism and her growing faith cooled the feelings warming her heart. She used these opportunities to speak about Jesus with him and, while he didn’t forbid her to, neither did he encourage her.

  His intelligent questions were beginning to frustrate her as she was unprepared to give him the answers he was seeking. If only there was some way that he could talk to Drustan, she just knew that he could be made to see the truth as she had. Only then would she allow her feelings to escape from their cage.

  * * *

  Two weeks came and went since Finn’s appearance when one day unwelcome visitors appeared at the farm.

  Valdyr was sitting on a rock outside enjoying the few hours of daylight despite the cold temperatures, which were much warmer than his home in Norway. The sky was wanly lit by the sun, bands of gray and blue almost disappearing into the horizon line of the darker blue sea.

  Knut arrived unexpectedly, the companion at his side one Valdyr had never seen before but assumed must be the one called Balder. Valdyr tensed, instant antipathy toward Knut bringing a low rumble from his throat. They hadn’t yet spotted him, and his eyes narrowed at their clandestine actions, making him wonder just exactly what they could be up to.

  Valdyr rose to his feet, glancing quickly at the swords hanging at the young men’s waists beneath their fur mantles. His own sword was hanging inside the house on its peg, so he would have to face them unarmed except for his sax, the small knife he always carried with him. Knowing the weak caliber of men they were, the thought disturbed him less than it might have otherwise.

  “What is it you wish here?” he called out to them sharply, and they jerked to a stop, their eyes widening in surprise at his unexpected presence.

  The two briefly shared a look before Knut quickly regained his poise, placing one hand on the sword at his side. “I have come to visit with my wife and daughter.”

  Knut’s earlier lack of concern for his wife and daughter made Vadyr doubt his statement. He folded his arms across his chest in a decidedly unfriendly manner. Regardless of his doubts, the men had traveled a long way through darkness and cold to get here. The demands of hospitality would decree that they be made welcome, in spite of his reservations.

  Before Valdyr could decide his next move, Finn exited the farm house with Edda, Iliana and Mist. Valdyr didn’t miss the look of unease that crossed Iliana’s face when she saw her husband, and neither had Mist. She placed a comforting hand on Iliana’s shoulder and exchanged a concerned look with Valdyr. Whether the concern was for her friend or herself he wasn’t certain, but as long as he was around, she didn’t need to worry on either account. Surprised that no one else came out to join them, Valdyr wondered if Finn had ordered the other family members to remain inside.

  “I have come to see Iliana,” Knut told his father, and Valdyr saw the older man tense at Knut’s belligerence.

  Finn gave him a skeptical look. “I thought I told you to stay away from here until I sent for you.”

  “But you didn’t send for me,” Knut told him in a voice laced with bitterness.

  Valdyr knew that with his next words the other man was about to unleash a tide of recriminations and hard feelings. Finn’s acceptance of Egil’s offer of land would be seen as choosing others over his own son, despite the fact that Knut had already informed his father that he was leaving the island.

  “Our plans have changed,” Finn told him.

  “So I heard, but my plans have not.”

  A vague disquiet unsettled Valdyr. How had the other man heard about his father’s plans?

  Egil, Brita, Bjorn and Astrid came from the house and stood near the doorway. Balder straightened, fixing his look on Astrid and ignoring everyone else.

  “Greetings, Astrid,” he called.

  Even from a distance Valdyr couldn’t miss the lust gleaming in the man’s eyes. Men had gone to war over less, and Bjorn’s posture indicated that he was inclined in that direction.

  Astrid leaned closer to Bjorn, and he wrapped his arm firmly around her waist. Valdyr noticed that his brother had armed himself before coming outside. He doubted that Knut and Balder were foolish enough to try anything when so sorely outnumbered, but his brother was obviously taking no chances.

  “What are you doing here, Balder?” Egil asked coolly.

  Balder motioned toward Knut. “I have come with my oath brother, who wishes to see his wife and child,” he replied. “We have come a long way to do so.”

  Knut turned in his mother’s direction, his eyes glittering with anger. “Are you not pleased to see me, Mor?”

  Edda’s face filled with uncertainty as she glanced from Finn to Knut. Clearly torn between her love of the two, she twisted her hands in her apron.

  “Of course, my son,” she answered him.

  Knut raised an eyebrow at Iliana. “And you, my wife?”

  Iliana’s face drained of all color. Knut stretched out his hand, motioning for her to come to him. She hesitated, but then made her way to her husband. He wrapped her in a tight hug and whispered something in her ear. Valdyr could see real fear enter her eyes.

  “There is not much daylight left,” Knut reminded them all. “I would like to take a walk with my wife, and perhaps, if you are willing, spend the night here.”

  His attitude let them know that he was doing so whether they were willing or not. If not for the fact that Finn and Egil had forged a vinfengi, Valdyr knew Egil would have sent them on their way.

  “You may stay in the barn.” Egil’s glaring look fixed on Balder. “Both of you.”

  “Your hospita
lity is lacking somewhat, Lord Egil,” Balder chided.

  “Mayhap because I do not feel very hospitable,” Egil returned.

  Balder glanced at Astrid, who refused to give him even a fleeting look. “As you wish.” He shrugged.

  Brita placed her hand on Egil’s arm. “Perhaps they are hungry, Far,” she remonstrated softly, reminding him of the rules of hospitality.

  Balder gave her a wry smile. “Brita in kyra,” he said quietly, and Brita turned to him sharply, color flaming into her cheeks.

  Brita the gentle. From the tone of his voice, Balder meant it as a genuine compliment, and Valdyr wondered how he could possibly know about her if he had never met her before. He again felt that unease. Someone from the farm was feeding them information.

  “Then give them something to eat,” Egil snarled, and retreated into the house.

  Bjorn pulled Astrid in after him, and the rest of Finn’s family rushed out of the house to greet Knut.

  “I will get you something to eat,” Brita told the men. When they started to follow her inside, Finn barked at them to remain where they were.

  Throwing Finn looks of remonstrance, everyone found seats either on benches, rocks or the cold, hard ground. They shivered from the biting cold, but refused to leave until they had a chance to greet Knut.

  Valdyr noticed Mist slip away from the farm and decided to follow her.

  * * *

  Mist stared at the reflected image of the waning sun in the dark waters of the fjord. She was aware when Valdyr came to sit on the bank beside where she stood.

  “Why are some men the way they are?” she asked aloud, not really expecting an answer.

  She glanced at Valdyr and found him silently watching her. A cold breeze stung her cheeks and tousled his hair, but he seemed impervious to the freezing temperatures. He pulled up one leg and rested an arm on his upraised knee. He shrugged. “You are referring to Knut?”

  Nodding, she moved to sit beside him. The biting cold from the ground penetrated her wool dress and made her shiver. She pulled her mantle closer around her shoulders, burying her chin beneath the collar.