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His to Take

Page 3

by Kallista Dane


  “She says I have no soft side!”

  His fist slammed against the table, rattling the dishes.

  Kylar grabbed for his mug of ale just in time to keep it from toppling to the floor. “I can’t imagine why she’d say a thing like that,” he responded drily.

  Haldor shot him a suspicious look. Kylar avoided meeting his eyes. He seemed intent on polishing off the last morsel of roast boar on his plate before it too risked ending up on the floor.

  “Exactly,” Haldor declared. “I’ve as much of a soft side as any warrior who sits around this table. Maybe she’d prefer that I dress in a skirt and knit booties for that young one you have on the way.”

  “Now there’s a sight I’d give up my place in Valhalla to see.” Kylar washed down his meal with the last mouthful of ale.

  “Women are too much bother. Life was easier when I lived here in the palace and kept my rod in its sheath—except for the occasional dalliance with a willing wench during one of the festivals.”

  “You speak the truth there, brother. They are a huge bother. Always hovering around you, wanting to feed you, wanting to rub your shoulders when you come home tired from a long day’s work. Wanting to snuggle their sweet little asses against you at night, so you have to wrap your arms around them just to keep from falling out of your own bed. Then you can’t get a decent night’s sleep, what with being compelled to satisfy their ceaseless lustful desires.”

  “There is that.” Haldor raised his mug. “Here’s to those lustful desires. May they never cease!”

  He drained his mug and leaned forward. “You’re married to an Earther. Does she complain that you’re cold and closed off? Does she constantly want to talk about feelings?”

  “You’ve got to keep in mind what their lives were like before they came here,” Kylar replied. “You’ve been there, spent time among them. Talia tells me Earth is a sterile place, devoid of joy and pain alike. If you’d spent days, years, without passion, without love and laughter, and then suddenly someone showed you how it felt—you’d hunger for it too. All the time. Look how we act in the summer solstice, after months of darkness and cold. Romping around half-naked in the warmth of the suns… and then often fully naked later that night around the bonfire.

  “I remember when Talia first came here,” he went on. “Everything was new to her. The color of a sunflower, the smell of real food, the taste of honey mead…” He stopped and stared off into the distance, lost in memory for a moment. “I tell you, brother, she went wild the first time she tasted honey mead.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “Truth be told, she still does. If the gods bless me with a son, when he’s grown to a man I’ll have to pull him aside and tell him to take care around a maiden with a flask full of mead, lest he wake up one morning and find himself with a son of his own. The point is, you’ve awakened the tender, loving woman inside her along with the brazen wench. You didn’t mind taking the one—now it’s time to be a man and deal with the other.”

  “Why can’t she just know that I love her?”

  “Do you remember when we were both just lads, when you first came here to live in the palace? I woke up many a night to find my mother, Queen Astra, sitting by the side of your bed, rocking you in her arms and crooning to you. Would you have preferred on those dark lonely nights that she just expected you to know that you were still loved?”

  “Your mother was a blessing from the gods in my life.” Haldor struggled to keep his voice steady. “She took in a broken, frightened child and cared for me as if I were her own.”

  “Then when you’re at your wits’ end to know how to deal with Selena, ask yourself… what would Astra do?”

  Haldor pushed back his chair and came around the table to clap Kylar on the shoulder. “You’ve given me good counsel. It wasn’t only your mother who was a blessing in the life of that frightened little boy. Bare is his back who has no brother.”

  “There now,” Kylar replied in falsetto, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “Was it so hard, showing me you love me?”

  “Now it’s your turn to show me love,” Haldor growled. “You can start by kissing my ass.”

  * * *

  On the way home, he stopped by the plot of land he’d been given years ago by Sigrun. The king knew him well; it suited him perfectly. Just far enough out of town to be a haven of peace. A stand of pines on the north side, and a rise overlooking an open meadow with a creek meandering through it. The evergreens blocked the worst of the winter winds from the building site and the meadow would be bursting with wildflowers all summer. On the far side of the meadow, a thicket of thorny bushes bordering the forest promised a bountiful crop of blackberries to provide the perfect finish to picnics in the sun.

  He’d started building the house years ago, a few courses of stone at a time. But these last few months, since coming back to Gadolinium with Selena, he’d picked up the pace. Stealing a few hours whenever he could. Imagining bringing her here. To his house. Their house. Seeing the look of delight on her face.

  But the house wouldn’t be finished for months and months. There were still endless gray days to face before the summer sun kissed the meadow. Selena needed something now. Some tangible sign of his love.

  What would Astra do? He thought back to the soft blanket of fur she’d slipped him one cold night. The queen had gone to what was left of his house, sifted through the ashes after the Tabun burned it to the ground. There was nothing left, no trace of his parents. Then she remembered a cloak that his mother left at the palace. Astra had put it aside, meaning to return it. But before she could, the Tabun invaded.

  She’d taken the deep blue wool, lined with fur, and sewn it into a small blanket. One a scared and lonely little boy could curl up with for comfort. One that bore the faint traces of his mother’s scent. Haldor still had it, locked away at the bottom of a chest. An iron chest that wouldn’t burn, tucked safely under his bed.

  His footsteps echoed on the stone floors as he paced through the half-finished rooms. Astra had given him a tangible sign of love. The memory of his mother, sewn into something warm and comforting by the woman who had stepped in and taken him in as her own. Reminding him that he had not one mother, but two.

  He stopped in the small room tucked away at the back of the house, the only one nearly finished. He’d meant it to be his hideaway, a place he could go for a few moments of peace, both while the house was under construction and later, when a brood of noisy children and barking puppies overran the place. Somehow he always saw the house filled with giggling children tumbling around on the floors wrestling with a litter of plump, furry puppies.

  His room had a long window with a wide ledge, overlooking the open meadow, where he could sit and enjoy the warmth of the suns even on the coldest days of winter. In summer, the thick stone walls would keep it cool, a refuge from the heat.

  Haldor sat on the ledge till darkness drove him back to town. Thinking. Planning. Imagining.

  * * *

  “He’s dumped me here. Again.” Selena perched on the edge of an ornate cushioned bench, staring glumly into the fire. “Gone off somewhere. Says he’ll be back by half moon. But he won’t tell me anything more. Just closes up like one of those giant Bacrian swamp clams if I ask him any questions.”

  Talia sat beside her, one hand absentmindedly stroking her belly. “Well, I’m happy to have you. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. I can’t get out as much as I’d like and even in the palace, life gets dreary in the winter. I’m grateful for the company. This one…” She looked down at her enormous bulge. “I’m sure it must be a boy because he’s already so active he keeps me up half the night. Then I’m so tired I can barely stay awake during dinner in the Great Hall, let alone spending hours on all the activities I’m expected to oversee. After Kylar and I were married, Astrid happily handed over most of the obligations she inherited when her mother died. It’s only fitting, since I’m the one who will be queen someday.”

  Talia laughed. �
��Queen! It still sounds absurd. Unreal. I remember the day I arrived here on Gadolinium. I stepped out of the Star Portal into utter chaos. The city deserted, Tabun roaming the streets. All I wanted to do was turn around and teleport straight back to Earth. Now—I can’t imagine spending my life anywhere else.” She reached for Selena’s hand. “I can see that you’re really upset. Tell me about it.”

  “I don’t know if I can stay here, Talia. On Gadolinium. It’s so cold and dark most of the time. I love Haldor. But I’m not sure it’s enough. He’s gone so often. If he’s not out hunting, he’s at another one of those endless council meetings. I try to keep busy but there’s only so much I can find to do around the house. I miss my work back on Earth, miss feeling useful. And when we’re together, when we’re not…” She paused, still embarrassed at saying the words out loud. “When we’re not making love, lately he seems like a different person. Distant. Closed off. Pretty soon I find myself responding the same way. After all, it’s easier.”

  Talia nodded. “Of course. It’s the way we were both raised, you and I.”

  “But I don’t want to be that person any more. I like the woman I’ve become since I’ve been with him. I laugh, I even cry sometimes. And that’s good. I feel things. Those artificial hormones we took on Earth—they turned us into nothing more than cyborgs. Calm, yes. Rational? Definitely. And barely alive. I don’t want to go back to Earth. To that. But being here, feeling alone and unloved so much of the time… It hurts. I don’t know how much longer I can bear it.”

  Her voice trailed off.

  “May I offer some advice?”

  Selena nodded and Talia went on. “When I first came here, I depended on Kylar’s sister Astrid to give me advice. She was wonderful. So open, so caring. But she was young. If I learned one thing in my training in the diplomatic corps, it’s that some knowledge comes only with age. That’s why so many cultures revere the wisdom of their old women. You know our sister planet Iridia was settled by the Anasazi Indians. They migrated from Earth long ago, even before the Vikings came here to Gadolinium. Their warriors are known for being strong and fierce. But they follow an ancient custom. When tensions rise and conflict breaks out between their tribe and another, the council convenes. They debate going to war, with every brave having his say. Then they vote. If every man agrees that war is the only answer, they do one more thing before rushing into battle.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They go to the oldest woman in the tribe, the one they all call mother, and lay their case out before her. If she agrees with their decision, they declare war. But if she doesn’t, no matter how hot their blood boils in seeking vengeance, they are not allowed to solve their conflict by fighting. They must reconvene the council and find another way to settle their differences.”

  Talia laughed. “I’m sorry. I’ve slipped into my ‘lecturer’ mode. Along with the rest of my duties, Kylar asked me to teach a class on interplanetary relations to our young ones. It’s become one of my favorite things to do here. Challenging their minds, opening them to new ideas from new worlds. Guiding them in learning how to choose which to embrace and which to shun.

  “I’m taking a long time to get to my point. My advice to you is—go to someone else for advice. Someone wise. I’ve only been here a short while longer than you have. I’m still learning Gadolinean ways. There’s one person I’d trust to give me counsel if I had a decision as big as the one you’re facing.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Ingrid. Kylar’s old nanny. And I do mean old. She actually served as King Sigrun’s nanny, if you can imagine that. She raised him, and then Kylar and Haldor as well, after Queen Astra died. She’s here in the palace, still divides her time between the nursery and her healing practice. She’s been around a long time… and she knows your man better than anyone.

  “You know, I have an idea.” Talia sounded excited. “You need something to do while you’re here. Why don’t you help Ingrid with her medical practice? You’re certainly well qualified. You know more about healing the human body than anyone on this planet. You could get to know her, maybe even trust her enough to confide in her. I really think you’d find her perspective helpful.”

  “I know how to operate machines that heal. But you don’t have any modern technology here. I’m not sure I’d be of any use.” Selena sounded doubtful.

  “Well, then, maybe you’d learn something new yourself,” Talia replied, her tone less gentle and more matter-of-fact. “Besides, as you said, you don’t have anything better to do.”

  Selena sighed. “You’re right. I might as well be useful, instead of sitting here feeling sorry for myself.”

  Later that day, Selena found her way to a small suite of rooms behind the enormous kitchen at the rear of the palace. It had a private entrance through the walled garden, now blanketed with snow.

  She clutched the fur-lined cloak Haldor had given her tighter around her with one hand and rapped at the arched wooden door with the other.

  The door opened with a creak. Selena found herself face to face with a figure that could have stepped straight off one of the murals on the palace wall. The one depicting the Nornar. Those three goddesses, ancient witches all, who determined the fate of every Viking babe.

  Unlike the other Gadolinean women, she stood well below Selena’s shoulders. The shapeless black gown trailing on the floor hinted that the years had robbed her of height. Wrinkled hands with prominent blue veins poked out of the long sleeves and her face was hidden by the dark hood of the gown pulled up to cover her head.

  “Come in, child.” Her voice was surprisingly strong.

  The woman opened the door further, ushering her in. She pushed back her hood to reveal a crown of silver braids wound around her head in an elaborate design. The old lady cocked her head up to meet Selena’s eyes. Selena barely stifled a gasp.

  That face. She’d never seen so many wrinkles. On Earth, people routinely lived to one hundred eighty or more. But hormone injections kept them looking young till they’d gone well past their first century. Then they aged gradually. Gently.

  Selena had seen mummies in museums with faces in a better state of preservation. Except for the eyes. Piercing blue eyes that bored into hers. Keen. Sharp. Alive.

  “My name… my name is Selena Reston,” she stammered. “I’m…”

  “I know who you are, dear. You’re the Earther who saved my Haldor’s life. Please, come and sit by the fire. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Can I offer you a cup of tea?”

  “I’d like that.” Selena took a seat on one of the cushioned wooden chairs. The old lady went over to a cupboard and took down two earthenware mugs. She reached up to break off a sprig from one of the bundles of herbs hanging from the rafters, crumbled it between her gnarled fingers, and divided the handful of gray-green leaves and dried flowers between the two mugs. Carrying them to the fire, she filled the mugs from an iron kettle sitting on the hot stones lining the hearth and handed one to Selena.

  “Let it steep for a bit before you try to drink it, dear. It’s my own blend, from herbs I grow here in the palace garden. I hope you like it.”

  Selena took a moment to look around. The room was small, made even smaller by all the items crowded into it. Jars lined the shelves on one whole wall, bearing labels of common herbs interspersed with substances she’d never heard of. Another wall held a series of wooden cupboards, all of them decorated with fanciful designs. Viking longboats battling sea serpents. Depictions of Norse gods and goddesses, some intertwined in blatantly erotic poses. Flowers, trees, animals—only about half of which Selena could name. Every flat surface was crowded with carved wooden figurines, pewter plates, pottery.

  And everywhere, a riot of color. Bright yellow curtains at the one small window, gaily patterned rugs layered one over another on the stone floor. Pillows piled on every chair and bench, some solid blocks of color, some a patchwork of fabric scraps.

  Ingrid saw her taking it all in and chuckled. �
�A bit much, I know. But people bring me gifts. They’ve put so much time and effort into making them, I can’t bear to hurt their feelings by not having them on display the next time they drop by. And all this color… well, being surrounded by it brightens the gray days.”

  “It’s…” Selena stopped, lost for words. “It’s wonderful!”

  “It’s love, child.” Ingrid smiled and the wrinkles, the silver hair disappeared. Selena saw only the beautiful woman she’d once been. “I never feel old or alone, surrounded by symbols of love from people whose lives are a bit better because of me. Now—tell me. How are you finding life here on Gadolinium?”

  Skillfully, the old woman drew her into conversation. Selena found herself talking about missing her work, her difficulties adapting to the harsh climate—everything except the problems in her relationship with Haldor.

  Finally, she stopped to take another sip from her half-empty cup. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. I didn’t mean to go on like that. I really came here to offer my services. Talia thought I might be of help to you in your healing practice. I told her I’m not sure how much use I’d be,” she went on, waving a hand at the jars and bundles. “I know nothing of these natural remedies. My work has always been done with machines.”

  “Your machines are truly wondrous. I’ve seen Haldor. You restored him to youthful vigor, mended his broken body. Our people have much to gain from such knowledge.” Ingrid took the mug from her hand. “Your tea must be cold by now. Let me get you another cup. This time I’ll add in a few drops of honey.” She filled it, poured in a thick stream of the golden liquid and handed it to Selena, then watched carefully as she drank. “Are you feeling any better now, dear?”

  Selena considered the question, swirling the leaves around in the bottom of her mug before she answered. “Yes, I guess I am,” she replied slowly.

  Ingrid nodded. “Sometimes the only skill a healer needs is the ability to listen. That—and the right blend of tea. Those tiny yellow flowers I mixed in? They restore a feeling of well-being. A cup of that tea every morning will go a long way toward banishing the darkness in your mind that comes with the darkness outside.”

 

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