Lord of the Mountains

by Sabrina Jarema

  “Why?”

  “So I can get to both sides of your hair.”

  He pressed on her shoulder until she lay facedown. The furs slid to her lower back. He combed his fingers through her hair, then along her scalp. It felt so good. She was unaccustomed to having her hair up. She’d always worn it undone or loosely braided down her back as befitted a maiden. It fell free over her skin as he ran his hands through it, making her sigh with pleasure. If he could do this just by unbraiding her hair, what else could he do?

  “It seems you have a lot of experience with unbraiding women’s hair.” She buried her face in the pillow as he worked on the other side.

  “Not too much. After all, married women wear their hair this way, and I can assure you I have no experience with them.”

  “I would hope not.”

  “I still don’t.” A touch of humor laced his voice.

  She tried to pull away from him and sit up, but he put a hand on her back and kept her down.

  “I’m not finished.”

  “I am.”

  “If I stop now, in the morning it will be sticking out everywhere. Just do as I say this one time and stay still.”

  She hesitated. “Just this one time, then.”

  “The gods forbid it should be otherwise.” He chuckled.

  It did feel very nice. He was so much larger and stronger than she was, she stood no chance against him. She relaxed back down, hiding a smile in the pillow. He continued to take out her braids, until he gathered all her hair in his hand and gave it a light tug.

  “Stay like that.”

  “Yes, my jarl.”

  “That’s better.” The mattress shifted as he rose.

  She turned her head and opened one eye to peek at him as he crossed the room to her pile of chests. He knelt beside one, the muscles in his legs flexing. His long hair fell forward over his magnificent arms as he rummaged in the chest. He fished something out, then stood. She turned her head back into the pillow before he caught her looking.

  He knelt beside her on the bed again and took her hair in his hand. “This is an ivory comb I traded for in the East. I wonder how it would feel in your hair.” He pulled it through, letting the tips of the teeth run along her spine to her lower back.

  Her toes curled. The muscles in her back clenched as little lightning bolts shot through her body. He laid her hair between her shoulder blades, stroking it with the comb all the way down her spine. No man had ever touched her before, except for a quick embrace from Eirik. This was her husband. He had every right. In spite of his disarming her anger with his gentle, dry humor, she shouldn’t be succumbing to this.

  She fought the sensation rising in her belly. It was not like a newly laid fire this time. It was more like the glow of old embers at the end of the night. It spread within her until she couldn’t resist any longer. She gave herself up to his care.

  * * *

  Was this foolish? Of course it was. He was an idiot.

  Magnus ran the comb through her hair again, dragging it all the way down her white back. She was flawless, her skin unblemished. Her hair was as a webbing of ice on a frosty morning. It slipped through his fingers like water.

  Why was he torturing himself? He was still angry and frustrated. And his sweet, demure Silvi had claws. No doubt she was angry as well, and frustrated, but not in the same way he was. No, his ice queen was above such base desires. Or was she?

  He passed the comb lightly against her skin again and a muscle in her back jumped. Her hands gripped the sheet she lay on. With a sigh, she nestled further into the mattress. Perhaps she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted him to believe.

  He should just turn her over and, with gentleness and exquisite patience, persuade her body to accept his. He’d yet to even see her breasts. They would be beautiful, her belly flat, her legs long and perfect. He could bring such pleasure to that body, and find his own as well. Then they would see if she could lie silent and resentful beneath him.

  And in the morning, she would still believe he wanted her only for her dowry and the connections their marriage brought him. That she could even think it had shocked him. He’d said things he regretted. But if he apologized, she would think he wanted to placate her, and it might make things worse.

  No, he wanted all of her, not just her body, although another part of him didn’t quite agree with that. To be certain, he wanted her arms, her legs, every part of her wrapped around him. He wanted to kiss her everywhere, taste her, worship her. He wanted her to do the same to him, to enjoy him as he would savor her.

  Swallowing a groan, he set aside the comb and, using the heels of his hands, massaged circles into the muscles on either side of her spine. From deep in the pillow she gave a little sigh, and he smiled.

  He wanted so much more. He’d watched Asa and Eirik and the love they shared, overcoming so much pain in their lives. Their feelings had taken a long time, all winter, to grow and develop. He needed to convince Silvi he wanted her for herself. It wasn’t because of what she brought to him, or because he was afraid she would leave and take it all with her.

  He loved her.

  It was as simple and as complicated as that. When he’d seen her on their wedding day, riding the white mare into the sacred grove, his knees had nearly buckled. He almost couldn’t speak his vows to protect and guard her, for the fullness in his throat. All that day, he’d looked forward to the night when he could finally sink into her. However, one look in those luminous, resigned eyes, and he couldn’t force himself on her. That’s what it would have felt like, though she’d said it was her will.

  Someone had given her questionable advice. Lifa wouldn’t have made that kind of mistake, but could Silvi have misunderstood? Or, like Asa, had she been through something that had traumatized her? He glanced down at the scar on his lower abdomen.

  Hakon and his scum had been at Haardvik all winter. Lifa had assured Eirik and him that the outlaws hadn’t touched her and Silvi. The men were too frightened of such a powerful woman as Lifa, and she had told them that her daughter was a seeress. Not a lie, and it had worked. Silvi was untouched.

  Until now. He massaged her shoulders. Who knew what she might have seen during the long winter nights? Whatever it was, he had to make certain she saw only him, felt only his hands, heard only his voice. And that would take time.

  Meanwhile, he would gift her with beautiful things, show her his world, let her see him for who he was. He would allow his love for her and her love for the people of Thorsfjell ensnare her more and more. Then she would never leave them.

  He paused. Her breathing was even and light. She was asleep. He bent and kissed her between her shoulders. So soft and warm. With a sigh, he pulled the covers over them both and, grimacing, turned his back on her. Again. There was only so much temptation a man could take.

  In the morning he would find a maid to help her dress, who had the skills to braid her hair each day as befitted a jarl’s wife. But at night . . .

  At night, he would be the one to take it down.

  * * *

  Magnus watched Eirik and Asa embrace on the beach, where Eirik’s great longship waited to take to the seas once again. A short distance away, Leif oversaw the men who were loading provisions on board.

  Silvi stood at Magnus’s side to see Eirik off. She’d been distant since their argument two nights ago. They’d moved through the celebrations and feasts together, yet not quite as one. No one else gave the impression that they noticed, though Lifa appeared to contemplate them. She was wise and wouldn’t interfere. She and Nuallen wanted to remain behind while Eirik traveled to Haardvik to get the ships he had promised Magnus. The people here needed the advice Lifa could give them as a rune mistress.

  Asa also chose to stay here while Eirik was gone. The wedding preparations had left her too little time to pack her carving tools and equipment. But that might not be the only reason she wanted to stay.

  “Your sword hand must be getting itchy.” Eirik grinned down at
her. “Hoping a fight breaks out at the celebration among the guests?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.” She disengaged from Eirik’s hold and looked toward Magnus. “But that’s not it. It’s just a feeling I have. Toke has threatened you, Magnus. I wouldn’t put it past him to strike just after the wedding, when everyone’s guard is down. You’ll be wrapped up in your new bride. The guests will be gone, we’ll be tired, and the routine, so he thinks, may be relaxed. I’m certain he’s heard by now about the ships that are coming and the warriors you’ll have. He might get desperate and attack before you come to full power, between the end of the celebration and Eirik’s return.”

  In the winter battle when they’d defeated the outlaws, Asa had realized the outlaws would attack from a different direction than they’d initially thought. Her realization of the diversionary tactic had given Thorsfjell the victory. She’d always had good battle-sense; he’d long ago learned to trust her.

  “I’ve never let my guard down and I don’t intend to start now.” He crossed his arms. “We’ll post extra guards day and night, as well as lookouts on the top of our mountain. I’ll create a relay system to get messages down to us faster. We’ll keep our weapons on us all the time, shields by the doors. Everything will be ready in a moment’s time.”

  “Then I won’t leave,” Eirik said. “I’ll have my second, Kjeld, take command of the Wind and go to Haardvik for the ships. Only the smallest number of men needed to sail the ship will go and the rest can remain here. The men at Haardvik already know my plans. They’ll come when all is ready.”

  Magnus and he gripped each other’s wrists. “I would be glad of your help. You fight like no one I’ve seen.”

  As Eirik nodded his thanks, Silvi frowned. “If Toke is such a danger, why hasn’t anyone killed him yet?”

  “He’s a coward,” Leif said as he approached them. “He rarely strikes, letting his men act on his behalf. He probably couldn’t avoid the attack on us at the islands. They were lying in wait for someone weaker, and didn’t figure on someone as strong as we are. They saw us, and he couldn’t back down in front of his men. Still, he never left his own boats.”

  “They target the weakest villages.” Asa ran her thumb over the hilt of her seax. “Then they slip away to some hiding place. Toke has a village, Bygvik, on the other side of the mountain, but he’s rarely there and no one wants to slay the innocent people who have suffered so under his rule. In fact, some of the women and children have escaped to the safety of Thorsfjell over the years, like Fastny and Jarpi did. We wouldn’t trust any of the Bygvik men to be here, but we couldn’t turn away starving and abused mothers.”

  Magnus grimaced. “Many of us up and down the fjord have killed his men. But unless we slay him, he’ll keep gathering more criminals to him.”

  “In the north, we make outcasts of those who break the law,” Leif said. “Then we turn them loose on the land to survive or not. No one can help them for a set amount of time, and they have only a few safe places and no real options. Quite often, it’s a death sentence. They have nothing to lose. Toke offers them shelter, food, and a share of the spoils, even though it’s illegal. So they fight for him, not caring who they go after. Anyone who is weak is vulnerable. But he’s gotten bolder, or more desperate . . . He needs to be brought before the Thing to answer for his crimes of giving outcasts shelter. ”

  Silvi had become even paler than she usually was. If anything happened to her . . . How could he best protect her?

  He took her hands. They were so elegant and graceful, he didn’t press them for fear of harming her. “Silvi, do you want to go back home to Haardvik until this is over? They could take you today. It would be much safer for you there.”

  She studied him for a moment. “No, Magnus. My place is here now, with you. My brother and mother are both here, and if they stay, I stay. Don’t forget I grew up in a warrior’s household. I survived the winter with men such as these you speak of. I may not be a warrior like Asa and Kaia, but I have my ways. I can cast over the land and find them if they come. I did so during the winter, and let Nuallen know. He didn’t realize how I gained the information. He simply followed what I saw and slew the men. If I may suggest it, use him and his abilities while he’s here.”

  “What do you mean, cast over the land?” Were those the visions she was supposed to have?

  She took her hands from his. With her head up, she looked out over the fjord. “When Eirik and I were very young, we found that if we opened ourselves to our surroundings, we could sense things. We thought it was a game. It’s how he found me after the outcasts attacked us and our father was killed. Perhaps it is the landvaettir, the land spirits, speaking to us. If something isn’t right, we know.”

  “When Eirik stayed here during the winter, we searched the woods for the outcasts who attacked my people. He felt them before we saw them.”

  “I thought he might have lost the ability when he went raiding for so long with Rorik, but he didn’t. He sensed me in our sacred grove last fall; and I, him. He used it again for you. Between him, your strategy and battle-skills, Nuallen’s abilities, and my visions, I have every confidence you’ll protect us. Also, don’t forget, we have my mother. She has the runes, and the ears of the gods.”

  This was starting to sound like some tale from the ancient times. If everything Silvi said was true, then he would take it. He’d always depended solely on his sword and his strategic mind, but perhaps there was more than that. He looked up at the top of the mountain, Thor’s mountain. Just because he’d never felt the things Silvi spoke of didn’t mean he’d dismiss them out of hand. After all, the gods existed though he’d never heard them.

  He’d seen what Eirik could do with both his sword and his senses. Eirik had been a true raider with Rorik, the most wild and powerful of them all. His brother-in-law was the most skilled fighter he’d ever seen. If Eirik believed in such things, then that was good enough for Magnus. Toke wouldn’t fight in an honorable way, and there was no telling what he would do when he was backed into a corner.

  Land spirits, gods, and visions. He just might need them all.

  Chapter Eight

  “That’s fine, Thyri. It’s nice to wear it simply again.” Silvi patted her hair at the back of her neck, where the serving girl had woven it into a knot. “Now that the wedding celebration is over, I can dress comfortably.”

  “It’s not so intricate, yet still proper for a wife.” Thyri picked up the ivory comb and set it back in its box on the table. She was shy, never quite looking into anyone’s eyes, but she knew her work and did it well.

  Silvi rose as Thyri held out a gown to her. Being the daughter of a jarl, she was familiar with servants, though she’d always refused their assistance. She hadn’t wanted the contact with them. However, now, as the wife of a jarl, she had to make certain allowances. It would reflect badly on Magnus if she didn’t.

  She had no experience with arranging her hair in the style of a married woman, so she’d been relieved when Magnus had found Thyri working in the cooking room.

  “Where did you learn to do hair so beautifully, Thyri?” She slipped the dress on.

  “From my mother, mistress. She served a jarl’s wife when she was young. When she married my father, he brought her to Bygvik to live. I was born there. She died when I was young.” She kept her eyes downcast.

  “You came from Toke’s village?”

  “Yes, mistress. My father forced me to leave and come here to live a better life. He said it was too late for him, but that I deserved a chance. There are several of us here.”

  Perhaps that was why Thyri was so quiet and withdrawn. Who knew what her situation had been like? She must still miss her father. Was there some way they could bring him here? After they defeated Toke, she would find out. She’d grown fond of the girl, though she didn’t know her well yet.

  “Thank you for your help this morning. Go and seek your morning meal before it’s all gone. Even though most of the wedding guests
have returned home, there are still many warriors to feed. They eat everything in sight.”

  Thyri smiled as she walked to the door. “Yes, mistress.”

  Silvi smoothed her dress. Another beautiful garment. At some point, her mother must have had these made for her and kept them hidden. Had the runes shown her this time? That her daughter would marry? If they had, then it was destined all along and there was nothing she could do about it. For now.

  When she went out into the common room, Magnus was seated in his usual place. He preferred eating among the people instead of at the dais. Yet this morning he was alone. They’d sat on the high seats all week because of the guests, but now things were back to normal. For everyone except her.

  She couldn’t sit elsewhere when he was already eating, even if she preferred it. Tension still stretched between them. They went about their days like any newly married couple, visiting with people and entertaining the guests. They rarely spoke otherwise. Magnus must have told Thyri not to attend her at night, for she was never waiting in the chamber to help her, as she should have been. Instead, Magnus came in after Silvi was already in bed.

  Each night, he undressed and sat on the bed beside her. He never said a word, but with his touch on her back, she knew he wanted her to lie on her stomach. Once she did so, he took her hair out of its braids, and combed it out until it lay around her. She drifted off as he massaged the tightness out of her shoulders. In the morning, she woke alone. And nothing was resolved between them.

  Steeling herself, she went to the table and sat beside him. He nodded to her as Birgitta brought her usual breakfast of porridge and cream.

  “I thought you would already be gone.” She poured cream into the bowl.

  “I’m meeting with Eirik and Leif soon to discuss our tactics.”

  “What do you have planned?” She nibbled her porridge.

  “I wouldn’t think you’d be interested in such things.”

  She put down her spoon before facing him. “I was interested enough when my mother, Nuallen, and I plotted to help overcome Hakon in Haardvik. I may not wield a sword, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know what you’re planning. Nuallen thought enough of me to include me in his plans, and even listened to what I had to say. Imagine that.” She picked her spoon up.