The Viking's Bride

by Darlene Mindrup

Brita was embroidering a new dress for Astrid’s upcoming wedding. She and Mist had used the best of the wool to weave the garment and Brita was now adding the finishing touches.

  An air of excitement infused the farm. Not only was Astrid’s wedding drawing closer, but Finn’s family was preparing to head out to the farm Egil had given them, eager to begin their new life. Iliana was shifting supplies in the wagon to make room for the barrel of whale meat that Finn had brought from the storehouse. Mist added a soapstone bowl to the already loaded wagon.

  “I wish we had an iron cauldron to spare,” she told Iliana regretfully.

  Iliana turned to her, a look of surprise on her face. “Do not be foolish! You have given us so much already. We will make do until the traders arrive.”

  At least they would have something to trade. Finn’s family had been responsible for catching and drying nearly as many skreid as her own people. And with the cattle that her father had sold Finn, they were able to process at least a few pounds of cheese and butter. Every little bit would help to get them back on their feet.

  Astrid came from the house holding little Cecilia. Mist smiled at the picture they made as Astrid tickled the child, and Cecilia’s uninhibited laughter filled the air. Astrid reluctantly handed the child to her mother. “I am going to miss you,” she told Iliana.

  Laughter lit Iliana’s eyes. “It is more like you are going to miss my daughter.”

  Color flowed into Astrid’s cheeks. “That is not true. You have become like a sister to us.” She turned to Mist. “Hasn’t she?”

  Mist smiled. “Indeed.”

  Iliana’s face softened. “As have you to me.” Iliana then surprised Mist by stepping away from the wagon, her searching gaze swiftly scanning the farm. “Do you know where I may find Valdyr?”

  Mist was shocked at the jealousy that swept through her. What business had Iliana with Valdyr? As far as she knew, they rarely even spoke to each other.

  “He and Bjorn went to the boat shed,” Astrid told her.

  Finn joined them and began tying down the articles in the wagon. “We need to leave soon to make it to the farm before sunset.”

  Iliana nodded. “I am ready, but I need to do something first.”

  “Make it quick,” Finn told her and went to gather the other members of his clan.

  Iliana handed Cecilia back to a surprised Astrid and headed in the direction of the boat shed. Mist watched her go, an unwelcome jealousy coiling through her like a serpent.

  * * *

  Valdyr and Bjorn were investigating their longship in the boatshed for signs of damage. From their inspection, they could see that the ship had weathered the winter remarkably well, and they were both pleased.

  Although Valdyr was committed to staying on the island until his wedding in the fall, he yearned to make a short trip out into the ocean once again. Eyes that had forever been looking toward the horizon and had kept him on the move were now turned inward most of the time, keeping him close to a woman whom he was beginning to believe that he loved.

  He wasn’t certain that he even knew what love was, but he had the feeling that it had crept up on him unexpectedly. If love meant wanting to be with Mist every minute of every day, searching her out whenever he returned from some task, thinking of her first thing when he awoke and last thing before he went to sleep—then he was definitely in love.

  “Some of the tar caulking has been lost,” Bjorn said, bringing him back to the matter at hand. “We will have to use some vadmal and seal oil to replace it.”

  Valdyr looked up from the boat to see Iliana standing patiently in the open doorway, waiting for them to acknowledge her. Her face reflected her troubled thoughts.

  Bjorn rose from his kneeling position and exchanged a quick, surprised look with Valdyr before turning back to Iliana.

  “How may we help you, Iliana?”

  She looked past Bjorn to Valdyr, and something in her eyes made the hair rise on the back of his neck in forewarning. “I need to speak with Valdyr for a moment before we take our leave.”

  Valdyr pondered her reason for doing so. He had barely spoken to the woman in the months they had been together. He had the ominous feeling that he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

  “Please come in,” Valdyr bade her, but she shook her head.

  “Alone,” she insisted.

  Bjorn shared a long look with him. “I will go gather some of the men to work on the ship.”

  Valdyr nodded his assent, and Iliana waited until Bjorn was gone before turning to Valdyr. She crossed the shed in seeming reluctance, and Valdyr tensed.

  She held out a black rock with a carving on it. “A runestone?” he asked in surprise.

  Valdyr felt a vague disquiet, wondering why the woman would choose to give him a gift. He knew that many of his people had developed a system of forth telling using carved symbols to guide them in making decisions, but he had never believed in them for himself. He tried to think of a way, without hurting her feelings, to let her know that he wasn’t interested in accepting such a gift.

  “It is not a stone for telling the future or guiding decisions,” she told him. “Knut gave it to me. It has his name carved on it.”

  Valdyr reached out to take the stone, even though he was reluctant to touch anything that bore Knut’s name. The stone had been warmed by where Iliana had clutched it in her hand. Turning it over, Valdyr found it just as she said.

  Lifting an eyebrow, he cocked his head at her. “What has this to do with me?”

  “It does not,” she answered, wrapping her arms defensively around her waist. “It has to do with Astrid.”

  A cold chill passed through him, and he frowned. “What about Astrid? And why tell me and not Bjorn?”

  She blew out a frustrated breath. “While I do not love my husband, he is Finn and Edda’s son and they would be devastated if anything happened to him. If Bjorn thought there was any danger to Astrid, he would seek Knut out and possibly slay him.”

  “And you think that I will not?” he questioned angrily, already making plans to do just that.

  She studied him, as though she could see inside his very soul. “I think that you are more levelheaded,” she said quietly.

  Her words neutralized his anger and gave him pause. “I would not count too heavily on my forebearance,” he warned her.

  “Well, I am.” She walked to the door, but turned back to face him again. “I do not know what Knut is about. I only know that it cannot be good. He told me to leave this stone at the place where Mist goes to pray if there was news of Astrid’s wedding date.”

  The blood began to heat inside of him at the thought of Knut awaiting Mist at her chosen place of prayer.

  “I believe Balder put Knut up to whatever they have planned,” Iliana told him. “I could not do as he asked. Mist...” She paused, taking in a quivering breath. “Mist, Astrid and Brita are sisters to me. Maybe not in blood, but in my heart. I would not have anything happen to any of them.”

  “Nothing will,” he promised her. It was a vow he meant to keep.

  “You do not know Knut,” she cautioned him. “I only wanted to make you aware so that you could keep watch.”

  As Valdyr watched her leave, he felt a swell of compassion for her, and an equal measure of rage for Knut and Balder. He needed to make Mist aware of the danger, not only to her sister, but to her, as well.

  Bjorn joined him moments after Iliana had gone, lifting a brow in question.

  “It is nothing,” Valdyr told him, and Bjorn allowed the falsehood to pass.

  Several of the men joined them, carrying scraps of the vadmal and bowls of heated seal oil. Valdyr set Bjorn to the task of overseeing the project while he searched out Mist, his heart pounding with dread when he could not immediately locate her. If the woman had go
ne to her place of worship, anything might happen to her.

  He finally found her at the smithy watching her uncle as he forged a new sword from the iron Valdyr had brought with him. His relief was palpable.

  Caught off guard, Mist didn’t have time to hide the emotion that blazed in her eyes at the sight of him before once again pulling on her cool reserve. His heart reacted to the unmasked reaction by tripling its rhythm, but he forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. Her safety came first.

  “I need to speak with you,” he told her heavily.

  Chapter 14

  Several days later Astrid told Mist that she wanted to make the trip to Orm the Combmaker’s farm. Orm was another of Egil’s tenant farmers and was known for his exceptional quality of carved combs.

  Mist was busy helping to shear the sheep. Remembering her conversation with Valdyr, she rose to look at her sister, placing one hand at her aching back. “Not alone,” she warned. Her sister had a tendency to believe that living on this island so far away from others made it completely safe. Perhaps she should have shared Valdyr’s warning with her, but she had been afraid that Astrid would let something slip to Bjorn.

  Recognizing Mist’s decisive look from many times past, Astrid frowned her irritation. “Will you come with me then?”

  Mist blew out a frustrated breath. “Can you not see that we are busy? Why do you want to go?”

  “I want to purchase a comb for Bjorn for a wedding gift.”

  Mist could think of no finer gift but now was not a good time. “Can it not wait?”

  A petulant look crossed Astrid’s face that Mist also recognized from times past. A battle was about to ensue. To ward it off, Mist suggested, “Take Gudrun with you.”

  Astrid looked as though she was about to object, but said, “As you wish.”

  When her sister turned, Mist reminded her, “Do not forget. You have to help with the spinning.”

  Astrid wrinkled her dainty nose as she walked away. Being the favored daughter, and the youngest, Astrid shirked hard duties whenever possible, but Mist couldn’t blame it all on her father. She and Brita had had a hand in it, as well. Shaking her head, Mist turned back to the sheep, picking up her shears.

  Hours later, Mist released an exhausted breath and seated herself on the bench beside the barn. Thirty bald sheep now scattered across the tún, the dung field that surrounded the farm and was already thick with green verge.

  She had a sense of well-being from a job well done. The others who had helped in the shearing waved in farewell as they returned to their other labors. She watched them go, too tired to do more than lift a hand in return.

  Her thoughts turned to what was left to be done for Astrid’s wedding. Word had been sent out to all the outlying farms. People would come from miles to celebrate not only the wedding, but the spring solstice. The feasting would last for days, and Mist was thankful that they had prepared well in advance, that the winter had been mild and that they were well supplied.

  It was why she had instead chosen fall for her own wedding. By then, stocks were always replenished and food was not in short supply.

  She pulled herself tiredly to her feet, knowing that there was still much to do before then. The sun was beginning its descent, and darkness would follow quickly.

  She entered the house and found Brita busy preparing the evening meal. Glancing around, Mist asked, “Where is Astrid?”

  Brita snorted impatiently. “I have not seen her all day. You know if there is work to do she has a tendency to disappear.”

  Frowning, Mist placed her shears and knife in the wooden storage chest. “She was going to Orm’s to purchase a comb early this morning. Has she not returned at all?” Mist noticed that Gudrun was still absent, as well. “Where is Gudrun?”

  Brita shook her head, loudly thumping the wooden platters on the table, a clear indication of her irritation at having to do everyone’s work.

  “She went with Astrid.” She glanced at Mist. “Astrid told me that you suggested it.”

  Mist felt a creeping sense of doom. She should have taken Valdyr’s warning more seriously. Truly, she had not believed that Balder would do anything that might cause a blood feud between their families. Her heart picked up pace, and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself so as not to alarm her sister. She was letting her imagination get away with her. But they should have been back long ago.

  “I will see if I can find them,” she said, and went to retrieve her sword. First, she would try to locate Valdyr. She had the disturbing feeling that she was going to need his help.

  * * *

  The men found Gudrun unconscious and bound halfway between the farm and Orm’s house. When finally freed, she told them that Astrid had been taken by Balder and some of his men. Valdyr saw the set of his brother’s face and knew that if they caught up with the others, blood would surely be shed.

  Gudrun was in no condition to travel farther, so Mist had to return to the farm with her while Valdyr and Bjorn went on. Only her concern for the other woman had made Mist capitulate. The look of pure rage in her eyes gave even Valdyr pause, but he had his hands full trying to control his brother. Although a fairly large island, it was small enough that a longstanding blood feud would be catastrophic. If there was a way to bring about a peaceful ending to this situation, it would be better for all involved.

  Valdyr was reluctant to leave Mist on her own, but he could see no way around it. He picked Gudrun up and placed her on Mist’s horse, thankful they had chosen to use the animals as time was of the essence. Since the others were on foot, they had a better chance of catching them.

  He caught Mist by the arm as she turned away. “Be careful!”

  Her face softened at his concern, her beautiful green eyes reflecting his own anxiety. Nodding, she took the reins and waited for him to leave.

  Valdyr could feel her eyes boring into his back as he and Bjorn kicked their horses into a gallop.

  When they reached Balder’s farm, the light was already beginning to dim from the retreating sun. They slowly dismounted as a man he assumed to be Balder’s father came out of his house to greet them. He studied them, his glance resting briefly on their swords before landing on their faces.

  “Greetings,” he called, a question in the tone of his voice.

  “Where is she?” Bjorn demanded, and Valdyr put out a hand to hold him back.

  Folding his massive arms across his chest, the man inquired in a deceptively mild voice, “Who are you?”

  It was easy to see where Balder got his great height. Like Finn, this man, though past his prime, was not one to be trifled with.

  “I am Valdyr, and this is my brother, Bjorn. We have come from Egilsfjord.”

  “I am Ragnar. What is it you wish of me?”

  “Your son Balder has taken the daughter of Egil Halfstanson. We have come to get her back.”

  A look of distress crossed Ragnar’s face. “I did not know.” He motioned for them to come into his house, but Valdyr shook his head. He was taking no chance that they were walking into an ambush.

  “My son is not here,” Ragnar told them, recognizing Valdyr’s reluctance.

  “You lie!” Bjorn growled, stepping forward and pulling his sword from its scabbard.

  Fire lit the old man’s brown eyes. Although unarmed, he was unfazed by Bjorn’s threatening posture.

  “I do not lie,” Ragnar returned, his voice holding a warning of its own. “Balder has left the island to return to Norway. He and Knut both.” The look he gave Valdyr was apologetic. “I truly did not know. I saw no woman with them.”

  Valdyr believed him, but he wasn’t certain that Egil would be so understanding.

  “How long ago did they leave?” he asked.

  Ragnar sighed, looking even more apologetic. “Several hou
rs I am afraid.”

  Bjorn was on the verge of violence, and Valdyr couldn’t blame him. Had they taken Mist, there was no telling what he might have done himself.

  “Bjorn, put away your sword,” Valdyr commanded, and his brother reluctantly complied. Valdyr turned his attention back to Ragnar. “I need to know where they will go.”

  Ragnar nodded. The man fully grasped the repercussions of such an act. Major conflicts had been started over less, leaving behind a bloody aftermath.

  “Come inside and I will show you a map to our home in Norway.”

  Valdyr gave the man the benefit of the doubt and followed him inside. Bjorn was close behind him, his hand resting on his sword. They paused just inside the doorway to allow their eyes to adjust to the dim light.

  Ragnar went to a chest in the corner and pulled out a sheet of vellum and spread it across the table. Valdyr studied it, noting that it was well drawn up, probably by a scribe. He recognized many of the farms listed, including his father’s.

  Ragnar pointed to a place on the map that was very close to his father’s. “Here. This is our home.” He saw the recognition on Valdyr’s face. “You know it?”

  Valdyr nodded, but refrained from mentioning that Ragnar’s family and his own were embroiled in a land dispute of their own. No doubt the other man would not take kindly to the information.

  “I am familiar with that part of Norway.”

  He and Bjorn shared a look over Ragnar’s head, and Valdyr imperceptibly shook his head in warning.

  Valdyr straightened. “We appreciate your help,” he told Ragnar.

  “Were it my daughter, I would feel the same.” Sadness crossed Ragnar’s face. “Please assure Egil that I had no knowledge of my son’s actions. Whatever wergild he decides on, I will gladly pay.”

  “If any harm comes to Astrid,” Valdyr warned, “I do not think you will like hearing the judgment.”

  Ragnar met his look, his nostrils flaring as he sucked in a sharp breath. He nodded. “Do what you must.”

  Chapter 15