“You see?” Thegn Heorulf’s mouth twitched. Brandr met his gaze. “A wise man knows when all is well, and also knows when to leave well enough, alone.” To Talon he said, “I believe the lady has made her choice, Talon. But for your peace of mind, we will seek confirmation.” He turned a stern gaze on Lissa, who stiffened in Brandr’s arms. “Young lady, do I take it from your action here that you are under no threat or compulsion to stay with these Northmen? I will have the truth, now.”
Brandr tightened his hold. He might be sure of her answer, but felt too rattled by events to take any chances.
She never hesitated. “Leóf, I have been and am compelled to remain with this man.”
It was Brandr’s turn to go still with shock.
What does she say? She cannot mean it!
But the noble only chuckled. “Ah, I see it well. But perhaps you should explain your words before your young man decides to start battle anew.”
She turned her head to him and he suddenly understood the noble’s comment. Love blazed from her eyes. A deep, shuddering sigh vibrated through his soul. He ran the back of a finger along her cheek. “What is it you would say, Lissa?”
“That I am compelled by love to be with you. That wherever you go, I am driven by desire to follow.”
His heart swelled, and he laughed, and found her lips. The kiss was not long, for his mouth hurt, but it left them both trembling with need. At its end, she exclaimed over his lip and the blood that dripped from the slash in his forearm. To get her to leave off fussing, he used the arm to catch her tight to his side and hold her there, while he wiped his blood from her face.
“There. You see, Talon?” The noble’s tone was chiding. “You worry for naught.”
Brandr set Lissa from him, but kept her hand in his. He faced his adversary. “Know this, Talon of Yriclea! I love this woman, Lissa of Yriclea. I have not dishonored her, nor has any other with me.” The first marshal’s eyes fired at his words and Brandr gave an inward nod. The man was a true friend, and cared much for her welfare. “I will never release her, but I will have her to wife, and she will bear my children. I swear to you, upon my honor, I will provide, protect and care for her for the rest of my days. Does this satisfy you?”
Talon held his gaze for a long, searching moment. He looked at Lissa. “You are well, Lissa?”
She nodded against Brandr’s shoulder.
“This is truly what you want?”
Again, her head bobbed.
Finally, he said, “Then aye, Northman, it does. I release Lissa of Yriclea to your keeping.”
He stretched forth his hand. Brandr clasped his wrist in solemn accord.
“Excellent!” Thegn Heorulf clapped his hands. “As I expected, it took only a few simple words to repair the matter peaceably.” He shook his head, and then chuckled. “Warriors are always so quick to settle their differences with blood.” He turned to the hearth companions who guarded Sindre. “Let him go, and see to the scop. Bring the others back to the camp.”
Talon cleared his throat. “I would ask one final thing, my thegn.”
“Ask it.”
Brandr knew the question before Talon opened his mouth. The first marshal spoke softly, though there was none nigh to hear but those who already knew of what he would speak.
“The gold. Do you have it?”
Lissa tensed in his arms.
He met the first marshal’s look. He made no answer.
Talon sighed, a deep exhalation. “Just so.”
He turned away to speak to Wat, who had just come to stand beside him.
Brandr set Lissa from him. She hurried to Turold’s side. The scop was muttering and flapping his hands at the attention being paid him. Assured the skáld was not badly hurt, he set about restoring order to his little flock.
Sindre, now on his feet, arrested his attention. His gaze was centered on Lissa, but then flickered in his direction.
Brandr was staggered by the wistful regret in Sindre’s eyes. His uncle looked away, but not quickly enough.
By the beard of Odinn! Why did I not see it sooner, that Sindre cares for Lissa?
Abruptly, so much made sense. Sindre must have known from the beginning where Lissa’s affections lay. Jealousy was a powerful motivator. More than ever was he glad he had not challenged his uncle to the death-duel.
Soon, the Saxons were ready to leave.
Thegn Heorulf approached. “Before I go, I will have your oath you are not spies for King Guthrum or some Northman earl seeking new territory, nor yet scouts for an invasion force.”
“You have it,” Brandr said. “While I will not hide that we came to raid, we now seek only to return home.” He grinned. “I cannot say what might happen in the future, but I think for this time, my people are pleased to build homes and farm the lands in the kingdom of Guthrum.”
“It is well, and the future will be what it will be. Should you wish to avail yourself of another day in Basingum, you would be well enough come. The thegn of Basingum is a friend, and shares my trust. He will issue orders that should two Northmen come to market, they will not be hindered. You might find you are not the unwelcome curiosity you expect. Some of your kind chose to stay here after the agreement between Alfred and Guthrum, and built homes. While they have not yet found full acceptance among the people, they are tolerated.
“So, there is a wedding planned in a few days. I have no reason to call you ‘enemy’, and thus I invite you to share the joy of the binding of my daughter’s life with that of my first marshal. Howbeit, the ceremony will be held in Andeferas, and I will understand if you choose not to return.”
“I am honored, but as you say, it is a long way back along a path we have already trod.” He glanced around. “I speak for my people when I say, were it not, we would accept with thanks.”
“Then all is finished, here. So that you know, I am a man of no little influence with King Alfred and the thegns between here and Lundenwic. Should you fall into difficulties, you have but to send word.”
Before Brandr could thank him, he turned away. “Come, my folk. The festivities of the morrow await, and I am ready to return to my bed to prepare for them!”
∞∞§∞∞
The thegn’s men fell in around him, but the little group from Yriclea ranged themselves in front of Lissa. Her heart clenched as one by one, they wished her well, Wat among them. “You have led me quite a chase, Lissa,” he said, but his eyes smiled. “Lady Eadgida would be proud of you, as am I. I wish you happiness all your days.”
“To you, as well, Wat. Take care.”
Finally, Talon stood before her. He took her hand, and pitched his voice low. “I would have you know, Lissa, I also am well. I return to a woman who is all I could wish.”
She smiled into his dark eyes. “I know it, and I am glad.” She grinned. “I saw you with her today, you know, in the market. You laughed, Talon! Any woman who can make the great Talon of Yriclea laugh weaves a powerful spell, indeed.”
He chuckled. “Aye, she does bring me joy.” His mirth subsided. “Always, your memory will hold a place in my heart, Lissa of Yriclea. My children will know of you, and the proud warrior you have chosen.” He glanced at Brandr. “As for the gold, there is none left in Yriclea to claim it, nor have I need of it, for I have found the home of my heart and a place to build my future. I therefore offer it freely, in hopes it will make your way easier. Go now, in peace.”
He turned, collected Wat and the other Yriclea men, and followed Thegn Heorulf into the night. She watched them go and a little piece of her heart broke, for it was the way of life that she would never see him again, or any of her friends from Yriclea. That part of her life was now over, and for it, tears drenched her face. Yet, she had a new life waiting, in Brandr’s heart and in his arms, and fear and regret held no place there. She turned and found him waiting, his embrace one of comfort and welcome.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Brandr decided to stay another day in the coppice, because
they all, especially Turold, who had received a nasty knock on the head with a sword pommel, needed rest. Alwin begged to attend the market. Brandr saw no reason to deny him.
They did not all go. For all the thegn’s words, he and Sindre felt it best to steer clear of such a large Saxon town. Lissa chose to stay with them, as did Turold. Sindre surrendered to Oswulf, if a trifle reluctantly, one of the bags of coin he took from Captain Preed’s men. He made it clear some of the coin was to be used to buy whatever Alwin needed, including a set of new clothes, if such could be found. Brandr gave them more hack-silver and ordered they purchase food and more ale. The group set out in a gay humor made more festive now they were free of pursuit.
Brandr wandered the woods with Lissa, their fingers entangled, their hearts light. Around them, the coppice was alive with insects and birds. Their song filled the air and mixed with the scent of flowers and the fresh, tangy odor of the grass crushed beneath their feet.
“I never told you I once planned to escape from you,” she said, her tone conversational.
He looked down at her as she strolled through the grass and flowers. “I would never have allowed it.” He scowled. “Why would you consider such a thing? It would be much too dangerous. You were safe with us.”
She shook her head. “I did not know that, not then. I believed it would be possible to find a new place, where I could make a home, and perhaps, find a husband. I am an excellent embroiderer and seamstress, and hoped to come to a town where those skills were needed.”
“Had you managed to get away, I would have come after you. I wanted you in my life, even then.” He stopped as a thought came to him. It did not make him happy. “You would have broken your oath to me?”
She gave a little laugh. “Such arrogance! Again, you remember wrongly. I made you no oath, though Alwin did. We discussed it, you see, and decided Alwin was fettered by his oath, but I was not so tied. I told him though you believed me your slave, I did not think it of myself.” She grinned. “Alwin liked that. He said he chose to be free in his heart, too.”
Brandr laughed outright, then winced at the pull on his sore lip. “I wonder what Sindre would think of that!” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “I thought you a pampered house slave, when first I saw you.”
“I suppose I was, though no longer a slave, but companion to Lady Eadgida. She kept me close by her side, and while my duties were many, they were not difficult. I was no drudge. At night, I sang to her, and brushed her hair. During the day, I served at table, and did simple chores. Together, we kept the garden and some days, we went out together to gather healing herbs that grew wild. She taught me much of healing. I had hoped to become a healer, some day.”
His eyes searched her face, but though sadness limned her tone at memory of her loss, she shed no tears. She healed, and he was glad.
He flicked her tip-tilted nose that had gained a definite sun-blush. “And a good one you would be, judging by the care you have taken of me.”
He held up his wounded arm. She had sewn the edges back together and dressed it.
She stopped beside a stump, its new green growth higher than their heads, to pick a daisy.
He touched its fragile petals with a fingertip. “This is called hvítr-blóm, white flower, in my tongue.”
She twirled it in graceful fingers, the petals blending into a whirl of white. “Hvítr-blóm. I like that. It rolls gracefully off the tongue.”
He chuckled at her words. “Graceful? I have not heard my language described so before. I think you may be the first.”
Her smile was beautiful. “I cannot think why! It is a little difficult for my tongue to master, but not impossible. Tell me more of your childhood, Brandr.”
“I have told you before, lítill blóm, there is not much to tell. My growing years were much as those of any others. I was sent to foster at the age of five winters to the home of a famed warrior. I learned there to fight, to love a girl who died, and returned home a man and a warrior. Sindre completed what training I still lacked.
“You loved someone else? Both of you must have been very young.”
“Já, we were, too young. We could not have married even had she lived, for she was betrothed to another. But it was long ago, and I have no regrets, for I have you.”
“Of what do you dream?”
He was silent for a moment, thinking of his desire. None of his family truly understood, except Hakon. Would she? “My people are like any other, with many occupations and responsibilities. I am the second son of a jarl. As such, there are…expectations. Karl, the eldest, is pleased to follow in my father’s footsteps, and take to himself the trade he and my father have together built. Both would have me join them.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Her expression was intent, and he knew she listened closely, though her eyes followed a butterfly in its erratic course. “The raid on Yriclea was a test of my abilities as a warrior and a leader of men. If successful, I was to be named hersir, and rewarded with land and a ship of my own. I was to join my father in his many trade ventures.” He sighed. “It would be a good life, a life fit for a warrior and the son of a jarl. But it is not where my heart leads. Even had the raid not failed, I would have faced trouble upon my return home. So you see, it is not only our marriage that may see me disinherited.”
She turned to face him. “What path would you follow, that would set your father against you?”
He took a deep breath and gathered his courage. “As much as I love the sea, and wish to own my own ship, there is that which I consider a greater prize. I wish to raise and train warhorses to sell to the kings and jarls. Of course, I will have to hire a man who is trained in such things, as I know little of such, myself, but in time, I will learn, as will my sons.”
A lovely blush touched her cheeks at his mention of children, but while surprise also flitted across her face at his dream, there was naught of disparagement.
“That is a most worthy goal, Brandr! But it would take much wealth, and even did we have it, I fear our sons would enjoy the fruits of our labors, rather than we.”
“Já, that is true. But what else is a man’s purpose in life but to prepare his children to face their future? The portion my father set upon me is great, and…there is the gold.” The veriest hint of despondency wove through his words. “Had all come right with the raid, I would have had my share of that, too. Now, naught is certain.”
Her face softened and understanding lit her eyes. “You hoped returning home with slaves—Alwin and me—and the gold, would ease your way with your father. But you have claimed me, and Sindre has claimed Alwin. Well, there is still the gold. It is a fortune, one your father cannot disdain.”
He looked away from her too bright gaze. “Já. It is my hope of salvaging my dream.”
“Brandr, you could not possibly have foreseen the war band’s interference! Surely, your father will not hold against you a circumstance for which no one, not even he, could have prepared.”
“You do not know my father. Karl will explain, but father will see only my failure, and accept no excuse.”
“And our love has made it worse. Oh, Brandr.”
He straightened, shook off his dark humor, and bent to kiss her lips. “Do not worry. As you say, the gold will help. Somehow, it will work out.” He smiled into her eyes. “I will see that it does! I am not entirely without resources, if should we be cast out. I swear to you, if it is in my power, my sweet Lissa, I will yet make of you the wife of a man of whom you may be proud.”
Her eyes shone. “I am proud of you, and will be, Brandr Óttarrson, no matter what may come. I could not be otherwise. You are a good man, a great warrior, a strong leader of men and true to your people.”
This time, she kissed him, taking care with his split lip. His heart warmed and expanded beneath her love, and in the pure admiration in her eyes, he felt his own worth soar.
She traced the tiny scar that bisected his left eyebrow. “How did you come by this?”
He felt warmth tint his cheekbones, but allowed her this easing of his dismay. “I had hoped you would not ask, for it was a careless accident of youth. I was but four winters, and bent to pick up a metal bowl that fell off the table while a thrall prepared our meal. I tripped over my own feet and the bowl’s metal rim caught my eye.” He gave a little grimace. “I was terrified. I thought I would bleed to death.”
She giggled. “You were four. No one expected you to be brave.”
“My father did.”
“Then he was wrong, Brandr. Life is a great challenge for children. They should be allowed to enjoy their tender years.”
They started to walk again.
He helped her over a branch fallen in their way. “I agree. Our children will be allowed a few years of freedom to be young…and since we speak of freedom.” They had wandered to the far end of the coppice and now stood beneath a shady overhang of maple branches. He stopped and faced her, then took from her neck the slave collar he had placed there so short a time before. “I give you yours. No longer are you Lissa, Brandr-thrall. I would have you instead as Lissa, Brandr-wife, for a future without you in my arms holds little of value. Will you wed with me?”
He waited, trying not to give away how hard his heart pounded. She had not yet said she loved him, though he believed she did. Suddenly, he was not quite as certain as he had thought he was. A frown pinched his brows together. What would he do if she said ‘no’?
Her hand rose to follow the line of his braids with her fingertips. She smiled, and one by one, she touched the runic marks on the side of his face that spelled his name.
Viking Sword: A Fall of Yellow Fire: The Stranded One (Viking Brothers Saga Book 1) Page 28
