DEBTS (Vinlanders' Saga Book 3)

by Frankie Robertson

  It had been too much to hope that Commander Hahlf would keep Aren’s defiance to himself. Aren steeled himself, ready to accept whatever punishment the Jarl chose. He stood by his choice to hide the women with Vali.

  Vali grinned. “I’m well aware of his tendency for independent thought. It makes him more desirable to my thinking, rather than less.”

  “Indeed. As it happens, Aren’s oath of service is to Lord Fendrikanin, not to me—yet. Aren, you have a choice before you, will you swear fealty to me, or to Lord Vali?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Annikke held her breath. This was what Aren had been hoping for. A new beginning. A chance to return honor to his name. And now not only the heir to a neighboring Jarldom but the Jarl of Quartzholm wanted him. She hadn’t thought there could be room in her heart for anything more than the relief she’d felt for Benoia, and the grief of her leaving, but now joy crowded in. Aren deserved this. So why did he look as though he might lose his breakfast?

  “My lord,” Aren said to Vali, “I’m honored by your request, more than you know, but before you offer to take me into your household there’s something you should know—”

  “I know more than you think. Lady Solveig and her husband taught me a thing or two while waiting for my Talent to Emerge. I would not seek the oath of a man I did not understand—and trust.”

  Annikke bounced on her toes, unable to contain her happiness for Aren.

  Aren nodded, unspeaking. He looked into Annikke’s eyes.

  Everyone in the room followed suit. Suddenly Annikke no longer felt like bouncing. For a moment she wanted to escape the weight of their attention, but then, as it had in the forest, Aren’s calm brown gaze steadied and centered her.

  “If I swear to Lord Vali, my home will be closer to Benoia,” he said.

  “But Quartzholm welcomes the Elves and their friends,” Lord Dahleven said. “And good Healers are always needed.”

  Aren continued as if the Jarl hadn’t spoken. “We haven’t known each other for very long, but I think we understand each other better than many do at the outset.” Aren stepped closer. “You have courage and strength and compassion, and the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen.”

  Annikke’s heart pounded and her stomach buzzed like a charm of hummingbirds had taken up residence. What is he saying?

  She recognized the look that filled Aren’s eyes. Guarded hope. The same feeling that filled her so unexpectedly.

  But hope was dangerous. Too often it lifted you up only to trip you at the next turn. Annikke sought Benoia’s reaction, and found her foster-daughter grinning with excited anticipation. She had as much reason as Annikke to fear hope, but she didn’t. Instead she was ready to leap into change. To go where she’d never been before.

  It was easier to answer Benoia’s hope. “Of course I release you from your service, you goose. In my heart, you haven’t been a servant to me since that first Midsummer’s night. Be happy.”

  Benoia hugged her, and Annikke held the girl tightly, wishing she didn’t have to let her go. When they stepped back from each other, Annikke found herself confronted with Aren’s hopeful gaze again.

  “I would like my wife to be happy in the place I serve. Where do you think that would be?”

  Wife?

  The question must have shown in her expression, because he added, “If you will have me.”

  “What about your mother and daughter?” Annikke whispered.

  The corner of Aren’s mouth curved up in a wry smile. “Tandra’s a romantic. She urged me to save you. And Mother will come to love you. As I have.”

  In her belly the hummingbirds zoomed and trilled. She was being asked to dance steps she didn’t know. No one had asked her to dance at all, ere now. But like Benoia, she found she was ready to learn.

  “I’d like to live in Forsvaremur.”

  “With me?” Aren asked.

  “With you,” Annikke promised.

  Epilogue

  One year later,

  Midsummer’s Eve

  “I think your Talent with plants exceeds mine,” Annikke said, as Tandra closed the wound from a broken branch on the apple tree behind their cottage.

  Tandra grinned. “Don’t let the Elves find out.”

  Annikke smiled, not minding the teasing. They both knew the Elves wouldn’t take Tandra the way they had Annikke. Gaelon and his brother had visited Annikke and Aren several times in their new home in Forsvaremur, and Annikke had welcomed them. At first, she’d accepted them because they’d helped save Aren’s life, but later because they’d become friends. Their glamor made them appear to be no more than merchants to the neighbors.

  “Let me help you,” Tandra said, as Annikke struggled to her feet.

  Annikke let the girl help her stand. She was near term, and getting up from the ground was growing more difficult by the day.

  “I wish Benoia was here, already,” Tandra said. “You’ve taught me a lot, but—”

  “Don’t worry, she’ll be here in less than a fortnight.” Annikke smiled. “She wouldn’t miss the birth of her sister.”

  Annikke and Aren had moved their family to a cottage with a little land on the outskirts of the village surrounding Forsvaremur. Annikke had declined Vali’s invitation to live inside his castle; she and Tandra needed to have plants nearby to use their Talents on. A few months after settling in, Torlon had taken one look at her and confirmed her suspicion that she was expecting.

  “Another girl?” Aren had said, pretending to be disappointed that she wasn’t carrying a son, but Annikke had seen the happiness shining in his eyes. “I guess we’ll just have to keep trying.”

  “Supper’s ready,” Morla called them in for the mid-day meal.

  Aren’s mother had been taken aback at having a new daughter by marriage thrust into her life so abruptly. She’d been put out by having Annikke take her place as the woman of the house, until she found out that Annikke had healing skills. When she hadn’t just soothed Morla’s pain but eliminated it entirely, Morla had welcomed her new daughter by marriage with open arms.

  Aren met them at the door and the sight of him made Annikke smile, as it always did. His brown eyes never failed to warm her all the way through, and today they were dancing with excitement.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Instead of answering, he kissed her, and then stepped aside. “Surprise!”

  Benoia stood behind him, beaming. She was brown from the sun, and new muscles defined her upper arms. Living among the Daughters of Freya clearly agreed with her.

  Annikke opened her arms and hugged her foster-daughter, who had to lean over the babe in her belly. “You came early!”

  “Well, sometimes babies do too, so I thought I’d snatch a little of your attention for myself before my new sister hogs it all.”

  Benoia answered with a smile, but Annikke could see concern in her eyes. “Babies get born every day, sweetling, and I have two of the best midwives a woman could ask for. I’m not worried.”

  Benoia nodded. “Is that Morla’s famous baked squash I smell?”

  “It is,” Morla said with exaggerated pride. “And bread pudding to follow.”

  “Then let’s get to it!” Aren said.

  By the time desert had been eaten and the dishes washed, Annikke was sure that Benoia had arrived just in time. Her foster-daughter had just snapped Tandra on the rear with the drying towel when a particularly strong contraction made her gasp.

  “Are you all right?” Aren asked, ever attentive.

  “I think this girl is in a hurry to meet her sisters,” Annikke said.

  Benoia nodded. “Gaelon said she was going to come early.”

  “Really? Why didn’t he tell me?” Annikke said.

  “He didn’t want you to fret.”

  “I don’t fret,” Annikke complained.

  Benoia exchanged a look with Tandra. “Of course not. Now just relax. We’ll take care of everything.” Benoia’s words were calm enough, but
her eyes were alight with excitement.

  Annikke laughed. “Well, I think I’ll have something to contribute.”

  Several hours later, Katrinja made her debut in the usual way. After tidying up, Annikke leaned back in Aren’s arms with their new daughter at her breast. Morla rested in a nearby rocking chair while Tandra and Benoia sat at the foot of the bed, leaning against the posts, looking very pleased with themselves.

  They deserved to feel smug. They’d remembered everything she’d taught them and had kept calm throughout. Feeling tired and happy, Annikke teased, “See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

  Benoia and Tandra exchanged a look. “Yes, mother,” they said in unison.

  A knock on the door made Annikke stiffen and hold her breath. Aren’s arms tightened around her, but a moment later she blew out her fear with a shaky laugh. “Sorry. Old memories.”

  Tandra went to open the door, and returned a moment later. “Old friends,” she said, standing aside to let Gaelon crowd into the bedroom with Torlon and Vali.

  “News travels fast,” Aren said. “Katrinja hasn’t been here much more than a candlemark.”

  “How did you know?” Tandra asked.

  Vali shrugged. “I’m here because these two came to get me.”

  Tandra turned to the Elves, who at the moment wore their merchant glamour.

  Gaelon answered, looking embarrassed. “We didn’t, not precisely. I wagered you’d still be in labor, but Torlon said your daughter would already be a day old.”

  “You bet on the birth of my baby?” Annikke would have been outraged, except that it was so predictable.

  “At least I won,” Gaelon said.

  Vali leaned close to kiss Annikke’s cheek, diverting her attention. “Congratulations on your newest beautiful daughter.” He ran a single finger over Katrinja’s brown fuzz. “So soft! But I expect she’ll wish she had her mother’s silver locks when she grows up. She’ll have to make do with a silver rattle instead,” which he handed to Aren.

  “And for the mother, I brought this.” Vali lay a hair clasp with the image of the Forsvaremur stag crafted with sparkling black stones in her hand. “It will be stunning in your hair.”

  Annikke stared, shocked by the wealth Lord Vali had just given her. “It’s beautiful! But it’s too much.”

  Vali smiled gently. “My mother had it made for you, so it must be exactly right for the woman who helped save my life. And I don’t want you to hide it away in a box. I want you to wear it.”

  “I will.” Annikke pulled Vali down so she could kiss his cheek, provoking a blush.

  “We have a gift as well,” Gaelon said, producing a spray of delicate white blooms which he touched to Katrinja’s head. “I name you Ellian, Elf-friend. May you sing like the lark, dance with the lightness of leaves upon the wind, and if ever you have need, call our names thrice, and we will answer.”

  Aren held out his hand and clasped Torlon’s wrist. “Thank you. No man could have better friends.”

  “I should say not,” Vali said, and everyone laughed.

  “And now, because we are good friends, we’ll depart, so mother and child can get some well-earned rest,” Gaelon said. “Besides, it’s still Midsummer’s eve, and we have debts to settle.”

  THANK YOU!

  Thanks for buying and reading DEBTS. I hope you enjoyed it!

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  About The Author

  Frankie Robertson writes fantasy and romantic fiction with an otherworldly twist. She has lived all over the country, but now lives with her husband in southern Arizona. Her back yard is often visited by hawks, coyotes, and bobcats, who don’t play nice with the bunnies, quail, and lizards. She brings a varied background to her writing, including experience as an investigator with the Western Society for Paranormal Research.

  Books by Frankie Robertson

  *Coming Soon

  The Celestial Affairs Series

  LIGHTBRINGER

  GUARDIAN*

  APOSTATE*

  SERAPH*

  ~

  Celestial Affairs: The Trust

  BETRAYED BY TRUST

  SEDUCED BY TRUST*

  ~

  The Vinlanders’ Saga

  DANGEROUS TALENTS

  FORBIDDEN TALENTS

  A VINLANDERS’ SAGA COLLECTION (Vol. 1)

  DEBTS

  ~

  VEILED MIRROR

  WITH HEART TO HEAR (A Sensual Fairy-tale)

  If you’d like be the first to know when Frankie’s next title is released sign up for Frankie’s Newsletter or subscribe to her blog at www.FrankieRobertson.com.

  Acknowledgments

  Although writing is a solitary occupation, a book usually comes into being influenced by a number of people. Among those who aided and supported me along the way:

  Jennifer Roberson, Kathleen Kirkwood, Caroline Mickelson, and Tara Simone have been, and continue to be, an endless source of information and inspiration.

  Earl W. Parrish, Roxy Rogers, and Jill Knowles for taking time out of their busy lives to put eyes on this manuscript and make suggestions for improvement.

  The Tucson Romance Writers of America chapter for giving me opportunities to learn and grow as an author.

  Jaycee DeLorenzo, my cover and interior designer, for making this book look better than I could have done by myself.

  Thank you all.

  DEBTS

  Castle Rock Publishing

  Copyright © 2014 by Frances R. Gross

  Cover design by Jaycee DeLorenzo of Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

  Interior Design by Jaycee DeLorenzo of Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.