In the Norseman's House: Book 3: Rydar & Grier and Eryndal & Andrew (The Hansen Series - Rydar & Grier and Eryndal & Andrew)

by Kris Tualla

  “Aye. And my father, Rory.”

  Eryn returned her attention to Grier. “And Rydar’s leg was broken?”

  Grier nodded. “I have training in healing, so I was able to set the bone. It pains him a little in the cold, but for the better part he’s fine.”

  “I’ve heard the story. But tell me, what sort of man is he?” Eryn probed.

  Grier smiled, her deep love and admiration for her husband obvious. “He’s a very intelligent man. Well-educated. Not afraid of working hard to achieve what he wants.”

  Eryn tilted her head. “And what does he want?”

  “He wants to rebuild his family.” Grier looked over her shoulder at the stone façade of Hansen Hall. “While ye never knew them at all, Rydar was kept from them for most of his life.”

  Her gaze returned to Eryn’s. “I didna see it at first, because he had to prove who he was. But ‘twas very hard for him when he came back and they were all gone.”

  Eryn felt a lump growing in her throat. “When I was alone in the world, Drew appeared. I feared him at first, because he might have had me hanged for what I did when I claimed the estate.”

  “Oh! I hadn’t thought of that.” Grier’s brows pulled together. “Because ye took the Bell name?”

  “No. Because I signed away the land.” Eryn gave Grier an apologetic look. “Only the king has the right to do so. But if I hadn’t, there would not have been an income for young Liam.”

  “You love the boy, do ye no’?”

  “Yes, I do.” Eryn shook her head. “He was so hard at the beginning, angry at having lost his mother first, and then his father. But Drew gathered him in and acted the father even before we were married.”

  “He seems like a good man, Eryn,” Grier offered. “And he clearly loves ye.”

  Eryn felt a surge of warmth in her chest and the lump in her throat grew larger. “He does. I was truly blessed the day he made me his wife.”

  She wiped a tear. “And I believe it was only by the grace of God that Drew met Rydar beforehand. How else could I ever have found out who my family was? Or find my cousin—my only living relative?”

  This time Grier squeezed Eryn’s hand. “Ye are a blessing to Rydar as well. He may not show it, but he’s quite moved by having ye here.”

  “Are you certain?” Eryn queried.

  Grier gave her a confident nod. “Of course.”

  “Then why…” Eryn leaned away, suddenly thinking better of asking. “Never mind.”

  Grier’s expression turned wary. “What? Dinna fear. Ye ken ye can ask me anything.”

  Eryn stiffened her resolve and took the leap. “Why do Rydar and Drew seem to dislike each other?”

  Grier rolled her eyes. “Ye need to have been there, I think. When they met.”

  “Won’t you tell me what happened?” Eryn begged. “I cannot understand it.”

  “Aye. Well… Rydar didna speak English, and everything he owned was at the bottom of the North Sea. At first look, he was rather rough.”

  Eryn nodded. “And Drew was dismissive of him, I would guess?”

  Grier made a face. “More than dismissive, he accused Rydar of spying on Scotland.”

  “Oh!” Eryn’s eyes rounded. “He wasn’t of course.”

  “No. He only wanted to reach Arendal and see what sort of life might remain for him here.”

  “But Drew’s attitude—”

  “—set Rydar’s teeth on edge, as ye might imagine.” Grier chuffed a laugh. “He’s a proud man.”

  “They both are,” Eryn agreed.

  “That’s God’s truth.” Grier shook her head. “And it didna help either one of their opinions when Drew proposed to me.”

  Eryn’s heart lurched. “When Drew proposed to you…”

  Grier waved an unconcerned hand. “My heart was fully Rydar’s by then, though it wasna until we reached Norway that the Viking knew it.”

  Eryn felt shaky of a sudden as Grier’s revelation zinged through her veins. “Drew asked you to marry him.”

  Grier’s face blanched. Her “He didna tell ye, after all?”

  “No.”

  Grier’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, Eryn. I’m sorry!”

  Eryn wagged her head. “No.”

  “I didna mean to blurt it out like that. I wasna thinking. I’m sae sorry!” Grier said from behind her hands. “I didna love him, and I truly don’t believe he loved me.”

  “No.”

  Grier’s hands fell to what remained of her lap and she slid forward on her seat. She grabbed both of Eryn’s hands. “Everything has worked out just as it should. Ye see that, aye?”

  Eryn stared into Grier’s impossibly blue eyes. “Yes.”

  “So ye needn’t be upset…”

  “No.”

  “Drew loves you,” she stated firmly. “Only you.”

  Eryn nodded. “And when he returns, I shall remind him of that.”

  Grier relaxed her grip on Eryn’s hands. “Good.”

  Eryn gave Grier a sweet smile. “And then, I’ll kill him.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Rydar’s legs began to cramp. Of all the men in the world for him to be holed up in this small space with, why did it have to be Lord Andrew? Just looking at the man irritated him. Rydar shifted his weight, aching for relief.

  “Ye surprise me, Viking,” Andrew muttered.

  Rydar glanced at the man. “Why?”

  One shoulder lifted and fell. “Ye’re better off than I expected.”

  Rydar snorted. “Ye mean I no’ build many ships and attack Scotland?”

  Andrew’s eyes narrowed. Rydar assumed the knight remembered his early accusation; he turned his regard back to the path. “I still have time.”

  “Ye’re still an ass,” Andrew grumbled.

  Rydar cocked a brow, but didn’t look at Andrew. “Ye show me, and good, how ass is.”

  “Me?” Andrew scoffed. “It was—and still is—my royally-appointed task to protect Scotland and her citizens.”

  Rydar tapped the side of his head. “I think, when will he say ‘king’ today?” He chuckled. “No’ too long to wait.”

  “It’s my career, Viking.”

  “Aye. I ken.” Rydar twisted to face Andrew again. “And where is King David of Scotland, not Bible?”

  Andrew blinked. Obviously Rydar had a better memory of the knight’s stinging words than Andrew did. “In London.”

  “Is still?” Rydar wagged his head and made a tsking sound. “Knight no’ save him yet?”

  “Edward of England demands a ransom before he’s freed. Would ye care to donate?” One side of Andrew’s mouth curled. “Since ye are so important now.”

  Rydar assumed that ‘donate’ meant donere. “I think on it.”

  Andrew shook his head and looked out the opening. “I still don’t understand what Grier saw in ye.”

  Rydar bit back his smile. “More than in ye.”

  “Ye had nothing to offer her!” Andrew barked.

  “And ye had all. I ken.” Rydar leaned even closer to the knight. “And she chooses me.”

  “Ye’re only a tradesman,” Andrew sneered.

  “And ye have no land,” Rydar countered.

  “Stubborn Viking.”

  “Pompous ass.”

  “Norseman.”

  “Scot!”

  Andrew drew a breath that swelled his chest. “Shall we settle this—”

  Rydar clapped a hand over the knight’s mouth. He leaned toward the opening and peered out.

  Andrew grabbed Rydar’s hand and flung it aside. “Touch me again and I’ll remove your arm, Viking!” he rasped.

  At least the man had the sense to lower his voice.

  “How close are they?” Andrew slid his sword silently from its sheath.

  Rydar squinted and searched for any sign of movement. “Canna see. Only hear.”

  Andrew tucked his head next to Rydar’s. “To the right. Fifty yards.”

  Rydar saw them as well. “Ay
e. Is three men.”

  “I can take two of them.”

  Rydar rolled his eyes. “Take one first.”

  The pair watched as the thieves approached, leading another horse. Rydar canted his head to catch their words on the breeze.

  Andrew leaned back a little. “What are they saying?”

  Rydar shook his head and closed his eyes, concentrating on the snippets the wind carried to his ears. What he heard made him nod in revulsion.

  “Is no surprise,” he growled.

  Andrew pinned his gaze. “Do you know them, then?”

  “No.” Rydar shifted his weight, assuring himself that his legs had not gone numb under him.

  Andrew scowled. “I dinna ken what ye mean.”

  Rydar pointed in the direction of the thieves’ approach. “Is svensker.”

  “What is svensker?”

  Rydar searched his memory for the word Grier had used to describe the countrymen living east of Norway. “Swedes.”

  Andrew shrugged. “Isn’t Sweden your ally?”

  Rydar frowned and blew a huff of disgust. “Never.”

  “But ye share a border—and a climate, aye?” Andrew queried.

  Rydar laughed quietly. “And Scots love England, aye?”

  Andrew chuckled then. “Ye make a fine point, Viking.”

  Rydar wagged a finger at Andrew. “No’ a Viking.”

  Andrew imitated the motion. “And I’m no’ an ass.”

  “We see.” He tipped his head toward the floor below them. “And soon.”

  ***

  Eryn excused herself from Grier’s presence as soon as she was able. She needed to be alone. She needed to think.

  What had Drew said to her about the women in his past?

  Eryn strode along the edge of the bluff, walking beside the sun as she searched her memory. As handsome and powerful as he was, Drew hadn’t left a string of broken hearts like many of his cohorts did. He was a gentleman.

  He admitted to making use of some of the women who frequented the battle camps, but there was obviously no emotional connection with them. He also claimed that, once the dying started, he abstained from sexual play altogether.

  “Nothing,” she muttered. “He never said anything about proposing marriage to anyone, anytime.”

  Eryn felt as though the ground beneath her was shaking. The very foundation of her relationship with Drew was wobbling and she didn’t know what to do about it. She swiped a tear from her cheek.

  Admittedly, she did lie to him when they first became acquainted—but that was because he posed a threat to her life. Once he discovered the truth, he actually saved her.

  Drew knew she was supposed to be married to another man. All that transpired in that situation was laid out in front of him. By the time she and Drew spoke their vows, she had no more secrets. Everything about her life was exposed.

  Apparently, her husband had no conviction that she deserved the same courtesy.

  “It’s not the proposal itself,” she explained to a rabbit hopping out of her path. “And if it were any other woman, I wouldn’t have a care.”

  But it wasn’t any other woman. It was her hostess. The wife of her only cousin. And Drew had escorted her into this house without a warning. Eryn felt like a fool.

  She stopped walking and gazed at the scene in front of her. Undulating blue water, spotted with countless islands and outcroppings, defined Norway’s bountiful coastline. Fishing boats, with clouds of seagulls swirling above them, moved toward the docks. Some sat low in the water, heavy with the day’s catch.

  A few of those noisy birds flew near Eryn, abandoning her when her lack of food was clear. She sank to her knees in the low foliage.

  Of course Grier would assume she knew. Any man bringing his wife into a former love’s household would certainly inform her of the situation—and how it resolved—so she would not be caught unawares. Because that would be humiliating.

  Eryn blotted another tear on her sleeve.

  She was the only one of the four adults who wasn’t aware of Drew’s infatuation with Grier. In light of that, Eryn replayed their conversations, searching for anything she might have said that would be awkward under the circumstances.

  Thankfully, there was nothing. Yet.

  What would she do now?

  “Drew will be hearing from me,” she muttered. “He needs to fully understand the very uncomfortable position which he has put me into.”

  Eryn couldn’t imagine any defense which Drew might successfully mount for keeping that past encounter from her. If he tried, she would draw a verbal sword of her own and cut him to shreds.

  Grier now knew that the information was news to Eryn. She could be trusted to say something to Rydar; Eryn would if she was in Grier’s place.

  In the end, after Eryn confronted Drew and made him see the error of his ways, a public acknowledgement of the gaffe needed to be made. The air needed to be cleared. The past thrown back where it belonged.

  Eryn rose to her feet and, with the comforting salt breeze caressing her cheeks, slowly made her way back to Hansen Hall.

  ***

  Grier watched Arne eat his lunch without really seeing him. Her mind was on Eryn, and her anger was on Drew. How could he bring his wife here without telling her about his past pursuit of their hostess?

  It happened five years, two marriages, and several children ago. His brief interest in her didn’t matter anymore—but Grier felt that the fact it did exist at one time was pertinent to their current situation. Judging by the way Eryn stalked away from Hansen Hall an hour ago, the other woman fully agreed.

  Once the men returned, Grier would speak to Rydar. Her husband was wise and, in spite of his dislike for the knight, he would know what needed to be said and done to ensure his cousin’s visit wasn’t ruined.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Drew shifted his weight and felt the board under his feet give way with a small crack. He looked at Rydar.

  Though the men were built differently, they were both tall and muscled. Shoulder-to-shoulder as they were, there was a considerable amount of weight on the old wooden plank.

  He saw that Rydar felt it, too. The Norseman lifted one brow in warning and his gaze moved back to the door of the croft.

  Several quiet minutes passed. Mumblings outside proved that the thieves were near. Drew matched his breathing to Rydar’s, trying to slow his heart and not exhaust himself before the battle began, a trick he learned early on as a knight. He made his shoulders relax.

  Three against two; the odds were good. Drew would take two with his sword, and Rydar could take one with his axe. The whole confrontation should be done in a matter of minutes.

  “We not kill,” Rydar whispered. “Send to Áslo for hanging.”

  “What?” Drew looked at his host, incredulous. “Why would ye bother over a few horse thieves?”

  “Is king there. Men are Svensk,” he hissed. “If Norsk is no problem they die.”

  This was an unexpected and unwelcomed twist. He snorted softly. “I canna promise aught.”

  Rydar turned pale, angry eyes on Drew. “Try.”

  The door scraped open, its leather hinges silent while the wooden panel was dragged across the rough floor.

  Drew and Rydar waited, shoulders pressed together so they would move in tandem. Drew breathed shallowly and silently through his mouth. His grip on his sword tightened.

  The three men tumbled into the croft, laughing. Drew didn’t understand anything they said, but judging by the look of them they were reveling in their most recent equine acquisitions. None of them looked up to the rafters.

  Drew wondered why Rydar didn’t jump. Was he waiting for Drew to make the move? He daren’t turn his head and risk that movement catching any of the men’s eyes.

  Instead, he pressed his elbow to Rydar’s, urging him to move.

  Still, the Norseman held his position.

  Was he listening? Did he understand the language?

  The thieves
claimed three of the four little wooden chairs scattered around a battered table and sat. One tossed a rough sack on the table top. Another turned it over and emptied the contents.

  Cheeses, sausages, and bread tumbled out.

  The trio relaxed.

  Rydar shifted.

  The board beneath the pair creaked.

  Three heads tilted upward in surprise.

  Without any hesitation, Rydar leapt. And Drew leapt with him.

  Rydar landed on the table, which toppled on its side scattering men and chairs.

  Drew hit the floor.

  Both regained their feet immediately, ready to fight.

  “Hvis du ditt liv du ikke vil flytte!” Rydar bellowed, his arm raised and the axe poised to strike.

  The three men seemed to understand him. A quick glance bounced between them before two of the thieves bolted from the croft.

  “Skitt!” Rydar barked. He grabbed the collar of the remaining thief and threw him to the floor.

  Drew sprinted after the escaping pair.

  They ran toward the horses, but the animals were tethered. The two men shouted at each other, gesturing wildly, before one turned right and the other left.

  “Shite!” Drew shouted. He whirled toward the horses, feeling the loss of his destrier.

  Rydar reached the horses just before Drew did. He used his axe to cut the tethers on his stallion and one of the mares. Grabbing the horse’s mane, he launched himself onto the stallion’s back and kicked the animal into motion.

  Rydar went left.

  Drew easily mounted the smaller mare. He went right.

  Riding through the unfamiliar forest wasn’t a problem for Drew—he was accustomed to such chases. Knights often were called upon to hunt down criminals, and no man had the whole of Scotland nor her changing forests mapped in his head.

  The mare beneath him was a bit hesitant at first, but soon began to respond to his guidance. He could see the thief running ahead, darting and dipping around trees and boulders.

  If Drew could keep the man in sight, then he would simply wear him down. His mount seemed to understand what was expected and she followed the fleeing man.

  Drew’s sword was low at his side and Rydar’s warning pounded in his head with every hoof beat.