A place inside of her opened out. She raised her arms and tilted her head back, welcoming the sensations spiraling around her. From the land, the sky, and the air itself, energies penetrated her, strengthening her. Her hands tingled and her legs tightened with the power coming up to her from the mountain itself.
Here, it was so easy to feel the gods. Thorsfjell, Thor’s mountain, held his force. Though the sky was clear, the hairs on her body lifted as though lightning was about to strike. Letting go of the energies, she followed them out across the lands, feeling, reaching, skimming the life forces there.
Warm light lay behind her, in the direction of the village. It held peace and calm, joy and contentment. It came from the people who lived there. But tiny pockets of gray drifted across them, like shadows cast by small clouds moving above the land. One of the shadows veered toward her and settled around her. She studied it. She had to understand what it meant, why it covered her. Where did it come from? Envisioning light surrounding her, she thrust out with her mind.
The shadow churned into the air, streaming away from her. The others trailed after it. She followed them, back along the direction they’d come from, climbing over the peak of the mountain and into the next valley.
Bygvik stood in gloom. She saw only that, but it was enough. The vision faded. Still, she sought the touch of the gods.
Hear me. An essence enveloped her mind, brushing against it like a warm wave of recognition. It bathed her in calm certainty. She smiled, welcoming it as she would a cherished friend.
Protect our people, for they are mine now as well as Magnus’s. Touch them through me, if that is your wish, and in time, let me show him your ways and your power. His heart is true, but it does not see. Show him who you are in a way he will understand.
The wind rushed against her, the chill driving away the warm acceptance that had wrapped around her. The connection broke and she opened her eyes. She gazed up at the peak rising above them, where a blanket of snow still lingered. A gust took part of it, sending it cascading into the sky and over the other side. That was where the shadows came from—and the largest one had aimed for her.
Her visions were rarely clear and direct. Often, they were symbolic and she needed her mother to interpret them. This one, however, she understood. She turned to Magnus. He hadn’t left his place at the edge of the grove.
“There’s a threat directed at Thorsfjell from Toke’s village. You know this already, but the danger is already here. And much of it is aimed toward me.”
He strode to her. “How do you know this? What did you see? Did the gods speak to you?”
“Not in words. I saw shadows, like those the clouds make. They crossed the mountain and settled in the village. The darkest one came over me.”
Magnus grimaced. “Toke vowed he would destroy anything I held dear, and he knows I’m newly married. I’m sending you to Haardvik, or even Vargfjell to stay with Rorik. You’ll be safer there until this is resolved.”
She faced him. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’ll do as I say, Silvi.”
“Why? I don’t see you evacuating all the women and children, and yet the threat to them is just as great if we’re attacked. Are you trying to get rid of me? Is that it?”
“What are you talking about? You’re my wife. I want you with me. But it’s more important that you be safe.”
“I will be. There was a light that surrounded me and drove off the shadow. It must have been the power of the gods that shielded me.”
“The only shield I know is the one I have on my arm in battle. And that’s the only one I trust. Not some light in your mind from a vision.”
“And yet, you’re taking my vision as an excuse to make me go elsewhere. I guess it’s good enough for that, but nothing else.”
“Where is all this coming from, Silvi? It’s obvious Toke is a threat to you and to all of us because of his vow. I’m not entirely immune to portents. They have their places. Eirik’s rune readings were certainly accurate. I believe in them somewhat, but I don’t depend on them. And that’s the difference between us.”
“There are more differences than just that, Magnus. Yet, in one way, we are the same. We want to protect Thorsfjell. You in your way, and I in mine. Do you know how my mother and I came to be at Haardvik throughout the winter?”
He blinked. “What does that have to do with this? Eirik said Nuallen helped you to escape, but Hakon’s men found you and brought you back.”
“That’s what we wanted Eirik to believe. He would have killed us himself if he knew the truth, so we never told him. Nuallen did drag us out when the attack first occurred. But we went back.”
“What?” Color rose in his neck as he stared at her.
“We returned there for our people. It fell to us. We knew at that point that my father was dead and we weren’t certain of Eirik, though I thought I felt him nearby. Neither my mother nor I could leave the people to those outcasts, so we went back. Nuallen fought our decision, but he was only a slave at the time and had to obey my mother’s word. Still, he could have escaped, and we couldn’t have stopped him. He came with us to protect us as best as he could.
“We’re Norse women, Magnus. We defend the homesteads when the men are gone in the summer. I didn’t leave Haardvik even in the midst of such direct danger, and I certainly won’t leave Thorsfjell now. And neither will the rest of my family. Or Nuallen.” His face darkened when she mentioned the name. She sent him a good glare.
He crossed his arms. “Then I suppose I would have to fight all of you.”
“That’s right.”
“And I’d probably have to tie you up and toss you on a ship in secret, at night.”
“You could try.”
His lips twitched. “Don’t tempt me. It sounds too intriguing, and I’m not talking about tossing you on a ship.”
He gave her a long look and she frowned. What was he talking about?
Spearing his hand through his hair, he turned away and focused through the gap in the trees toward the distant glaciers. “Does insanity run in your family?”
A laugh welled up in her, but she wrestled it back down. “Our ancestral sword was made from metal the gods threw down at us from the sky. I have visions, and my mother has the ear of the gods. Both Thor and Odin fight over Eirik. Then there’s Rorik, which speaks for itself. There are his sisters. One wants to kill everyone, and the other is a vargamon, a wise woman who runs with wolves. What do you think?”
“That’s what I feared.” With his eyes closed, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “In the interest of not starting a blood feud between our families, I suppose I should let you stay.”
“That, and my mother has a habit of putting runes in odd places to produce certain unsavory results. It’s not wise to cross her.”
“Nor you, I’m beginning to think.”
She gave him her sweetest smile. How did he do that? Dispel any argument with his understated humor. It wasn’t as obvious as Leif’s, but it worked. She couldn’t stay angry with him.
He dropped his arms with a sigh. “I suppose there are ways to win a war without swords and shields. I have a feeling I just lost another one.”
“Is that what this is between us? A war?”
He came closer to her, but didn’t touch her. “I hope not. And yet it often comes to that, doesn’t it? I suppose when two worlds collide, there’s bound to be friction.”
“My world is your world, Magnus. You just won’t see it. It permeates and underlies everything around us. It’s as much a part of your world as all of this.” She swept her arm around them.
He shook his head and raised his hand to brush her cheek with his thumb. “You were so—you had such a beautiful smile when you had your vision. You almost glowed. I wish I could understand such things. My existence is one of strength and power, for that’s what I need to survive and to protect those under my care. Prayers that dance on the breezes and are as thin as starlight won’t he
lp me in battle or on the seas during a storm.”
She put her hand on his, where it lingered on her cool cheek, and pressed her face into his palm. His skin was so warm compared to hers. “Perhaps one day, you’ll feel the true nature of the gods. Their power and the strength of their words make us what we are as a people. But take care. If power is what you understand, then power may be what they choose to show you. And only the strongest can survive that.”
Chapter Nine
Magnus slept.
Silvi had awakened when the radiance from the moon coming through the smoke hole in the roof fell on their bed. He was on his back, one arm over his head. The furs had fallen away and he was uncovered from his hips up.
He’d taken down her hair, as he always did, and combed it out until it lay like silk across her back. Then he’d massaged her shoulders until she slept. She usually remained asleep until morning. This was the first time she’d awakened before he did, and she turned on her side to watch him.
In sleep, he looked younger than his years. The cares and burdens of his position added strain around his eyes and mouth. Perhaps this was his true age. She didn’t know. He was beautiful in a masculine way. His dark hair lay across the pillow, too tempting to resist. She touched it with her fingertips. It was much softer than she would have thought. The golden lights within it sparkled in the moon’s rays.
His deep chest rose and fell, the curves accentuated by light and shadow. His abdomen was ridged and flat, but the scar slashing across it marred its perfection. She held her hand over it but didn’t touch him. He had other scars, to be certain, from battle. But they were light. This should have killed him. Asa told her that many years ago Magnus had found their step-uncle, Hakon, trying to rape her. Hakon had wounded him before he’d escaped and Magnus had nearly died. This must be the scar from the wound.
Sorrow engulfed her. The thought that so fine a man could have died, twisted her stomach. Tears came to her eyes. She never would have known him. Never have married him. She would be someplace else now, perhaps even Uppsala. Eirik wouldn’t marry her off to just anyone; he had chosen Magnus for her because of who he was. Honorable, forthright, protective.
For the first time, the thought of Uppsala didn’t entice her. She’d always been able to envision herself there and it had brought comfort to her. Now this, this was comfort. This was where she wanted to be.
She touched his shoulder, so softly it should not have disturbed him. His skin was cool in the night air. However, he was a warrior and slept lightly. He stirred. She lifted her hand and he quieted. Careful and slow, she pulled the furs up over his chest. He shifted farther under them.
Holding her breath, she moved closer to him and lowered her head onto his chest beneath his raised arm. She rested her hand on his stomach.
His breathing hitched, then he lifted his head. “Silvi?”
“I hope so.”
He didn’t say anything. Had she made a mistake? She started to move away, but he lowered his arm, holding her to him. “Stay.”
Snuggling closer to him, she smiled. “I thought you might be cold.”
“We have half the furs I own on top of us.”
“You’re warmer than any furs.”
He chuckled. “So are you.”
She was? Her skin always stayed so cool. “Then can we keep each other warm?”
“Every night, if you like.” He pulled the furs up so they both were nestled under them. He took her hand and kissed her palm, then kept hold of it against his chest. “In the moonlight, your hair looks like the first fall of snow.”
“It’s too pale. I’m too pale. Colorless.”
“When I first saw you, you looked like you came from Alfheim, where the Light Elves live. I thought if I were to touch you, you might fade away into another world.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed. “I won’t fade away, Magnus.”
He stopped breathing and she looked up at him. The question lay in his blue eyes. Turning her head, she kissed his chest over his heart, then eased onto her back. He raised himself onto his elbow, leaned down, and kissed her. It wasn’t the brief, respectful kiss she’d come to know. This was a kiss of possession, his mouth sealed against hers.
He threaded his fingers through her hair and tightened his grip. It didn’t hurt, but she couldn’t move her head. And she didn’t want to.
“Open for me, Silvi.”
She didn’t understand what he meant until he pressed on her jaw with gentle insistence. She gasped as he invaded her mouth with his. His breath became hers. She tasted him, matching what he did. Touching his shoulder, she ran her hand up under his hair as it fell down over her. He moved onto her, and put his leg over hers. She couldn’t escape him if she wanted to. Breathing hard, he lifted his head. His eyes met hers and she smiled, though it was tremulous.
Letting go of her hair, he peeled away the furs covering her breasts and gazed at her. She wanted to wrap her arms around herself. Would he think she was too small, too thin? Men liked women who were . . . large. She wasn’t. She wanted to shrink away, but his legs still trapped hers. He looked at her body, not speaking.
She brought her arm over herself, her cheeks heating. He took her hand in his and intertwined their fingers. Bringing her hand onto the bed beside her head, he held it there. He shifted so her other arm was beneath him. She was open to him and couldn’t hide from his gaze.
“Magnus, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” He kissed her between her breasts.
She drew in a sharp breath as the touch of his lips drove straight into her. “Don’t look at me. I’m too thin and too pale.”
“Too beautiful for words.”
She shook her head.
“Silvi. Look at me.”
At the tone of command in his voice, she did as he said.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen.” He touched his mouth to the tip of her breast and she jumped.
She pulled at her hand, but he wouldn’t let her go. He was so strong. It took no effort at all for him to hold her still, but he was gentle. She quieted.
“That’s better. I can see we have a few nights ahead of us for me to make you feel what I want between us. If I can survive, that is.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know, and I’ll change that. For tonight, let this be a start.”
His kiss was like the finest wine, heady and sweet. He still held her in his tender grip. She didn’t try to break free. Relaxing into his hold, she returned his kiss. When he ended it, he released her, then turned her so her back was to him. He wrapped himself around her, pulling her close to him, her back to his chest. He was so hard—everywhere. Even she knew what that meant.
He pulled the furs up over them again and kissed her hair. “Sleep now, Silvi. I’m not so certain I’ll be able to, but you need to rest. You may not get many chances over the next few nights.”
“I know you have needs. I can feel it, even now.”
“I’d be disappointed if you couldn’t.”
She elbowed him in the ribs and he chuckled. “Magnus, it’s not fair to you.”
“Believe me, we’ll make up for it. I want to be certain it’s what you desire and that you’re ready for me. I want your first time to be more than you ever dreamed of. First, you need to understand how desirable and beautiful you are to me, and I don’t think you do right now. I’ll show you. Later.”
With him wrapped around her like he was, and the strange feelings his strength and mastery had given her, it wasn’t likely she would sleep. And unless she missed her guess, neither would he.
* * *
Magnus yawned into his plate. He’d told Silvi to go to sleep last night, but he hadn’t followed his own advice. Her breathing hadn’t slowed until the early morning hours either. Why didn’t he just take her? In spite of her insecurities about her beauty, she acted as though she welcomed him. Perhaps he should have asked if insanity ran in his family.
They had a l
ifetime together, though. In spite of his discomfort, a few days wouldn’t make a difference in the long run. It might make a difference, though, in how she viewed him and how their nights would be from now on.
Anyone older than a young child knew what happened between men and women. Yet she still seemed so innocent. It warmed him that he would be the one to teach her. It also made him uneasy. He’d never had a virgin before, only lusty widows and willing serving women. They’d known better than to expect anything more from him, but he’d made certain they enjoyed themselves the same as he. So much more rode on this.
He wanted her to love him. It was as though he walked on thin ice, both emotionally and physically. Any misstep would lead to disaster. But she was far stronger than he might have thought. How many women would have gone back into a village filled with outlaws to help her people? Perhaps the gods did shield her. She must have inherited her strength from her mother.
He took a bite of his cold sausage. Some women liked it rougher, others enjoyed a more tender touch. She’d responded to his gentle but firm command last night. Perhaps that was the way to her desire. But he didn’t want to order her, or pressure her in any way. It had to be her choice. Still, he could strike a balance and find the path to her heart.
He pushed his plate away and stood. He had things to see to this morning, and unless he wanted to be in pain all day, he needed to stop this line of thinking. Leif watched him from across the room, a half smile threatening. They were twins; Leif often knew what he was thinking with uncanny accuracy. He had that skill with anyone he watched, but with Magnus he had it down to an art. And he knew Leif. He was arming himself with quips at Magnus’s expense. He wouldn’t provide him with more fodder for his jokes.
Nuallen walked in the open doors, his arms full of sheathed swords. He tossed them on one of the tables with a loud crash and headed for the pitcher of ale on the sideboard. Everyone stopped talking and stared at the pile of weapons, then at him.
Magnus inspected them as Nuallen poured a cup of ale. “What are these?”
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