One Night with the Viking

by Harper St. George

  He wasn’t a patient man. Not with Kadlin. Finally, his patience came to an end as he eased down beside her on the grassy banks of the river, trying to figure out exactly how to say what he wanted. He enjoyed watching Avalt frolicking naked in the shallow pool Kadlin had made of rocks at the river’s edge. Today they had brought along the small wooden boats Jarl Leif had sent to his grandson and the boy squealed with delight as one of Ingrid’s brothers held it under before letting it go so that it popped above the surface of the water.

  Kadlin laughed, but it was in that soft, distracted way that meant she wasn’t with him. His eyes caressed her profile, stopping to linger on the pink shell of her ear before he leaned up on an elbow and placed a kiss on the soft skin just below where her ear met her neck. She smiled and turned her head. ‘Stop or they’ll all see you.’

  He didn’t care. He wanted them all to see him kiss her, but he leaned back on his elbow and took her hand with his. ‘Do you think they haven’t realised that you share my bed?’

  ‘I haven’t given it much thought, I suppose.’

  His thumb traced circles on her palm as he willed her to look at him. She did, but it only verified that her eyes were shuttered, not open and hot like they were at night when they were alone, though she shivered from his touch. Bringing her hand to his mouth, he placed a single, open-mouthed kiss on her palm, letting the tip of his tongue trace a slow circle there before pulling away. The sound of her breath hitching was gratifying, but then he’d never questioned the effect his touch had on her body. I love you. He wanted to tell her daily, but he held back because it wasn’t fair. Instead, he said, ‘I love the sounds you make when I touch you.’

  Her lips parted to speak, but at the last moment she turned her head to look back at the river.

  A knot of dread settled heavy in the pit of his stomach. ‘Am I only allowed to say pretty words to you when I’m inside you?’

  ‘Gunnar...’ It was an admonishment. She closed her eyes.

  ‘Or is it only under the cover of darkness that we can talk?’

  She shook her head and gave him a pleading look. ‘Please...can’t we just enjoy what we have now without pushing it further?’

  Now. However long now ended up being. The one certainty was that their time at the sod house was coming to a close. His father had already given him notice to leave and he doubted Kadlin would be welcome to stay after harbouring him. Now wasn’t very long at all. The uncertainty of it only heightened the anger that had been brewing deep within him; the anger that he’d been trying to dispel in favour of keeping peace now. But it spewed forth. Perhaps if it hadn’t, he could have chosen his words more carefully. Instead, they came without tact and fell into the chasm growing between them. Avalt squealed again, drawing Gunnar’s attention to the hair on the baby’s head, so soaked it almost appeared black except for the glint of red in the sunlight.

  ‘Why haven’t you confessed to me that Avalt is my son?’

  This time her voice was stronger, though her cheeks had lost their colour. ‘This isn’t the time. Not yet.’

  ‘When?’

  She sucked in a deep breath, the pain it covered up almost slicing his heart in two, but he couldn’t back down. Every day he felt her slipping away. There would be no better time.

  ‘It hurt me so badly when you left, Gunnar. I can’t just forget that.’ She had closed her eyes tight against him to speak and he wanted to grab her and hold her close. He wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t leave her like that again, with harsh words and lies, but he couldn’t have her. Not yet. Not when he couldn’t even figure out where they would live if he kept her. Not when his lame leg made his position so uncertain he couldn’t promise her a future.

  ‘I didn’t do that to hurt you,’ he whispered. ‘It nearly killed me to leave you.’

  ‘Aye, but that was the result, wasn’t it? You chose to go fight and you left me behind to marry someone else.’ She opened her eyes to look at him and the blue irises burned with pain.

  He reached for her, intending to bring her close, but a movement through the trees across the river caught his attention and his hand dropped.

  ‘You left us...’

  The rest of the words she spoke were drowned out by the beat of horses’ hooves against the dirt, matching the heavy pounding of his heart in his ears. There was more than one horse and they were coming too fast to be bearers of good tidings.

  ‘Someone comes!’ He clawed his way to his feet and reached for his sword, calling the children away from the river just as two men on horseback broke from the trees on the other side. They were leading a third horse, but it appeared to be vacant a rider and they were still too far away to identify. ‘Get everyone inside.’

  Kadlin scrambled to her feet and nodded as she took Avalt into her arms. Despite how fast the men were riding, Gunnar had just enough time to get them home and inside before turning to meet the men as they rode into the field in front of the house. For one brief moment he relived the feeling of helplessness as those men had ravaged Eirik. What if he once again failed to protect those that he cared about? His grip on his sword tightened and he vowed to battle them to the death if need be.

  ‘Gunnar!’ a slightly familiar voice called to him.

  After a moment they had ridden close enough that he could identify them as his father’s men, which meant that Vidar should have been with them. One of them carried the reins of an extra horse, but there was no sign of the boy. Lowering his sword, but keeping a firm grip on it, Gunnar nodded a greeting to them both. ‘Dom, Flein. Good day to you.’

  Though a few winters younger than his father, Dom had been in charge of training his father’s warriors for as long as Gunnar could remember. The man had spent many hours teaching him the finer points of wielding a sword and beating an enemy with his fists when the sword failed. Dom was usually rather long-winded with his stories, but the fact that he didn’t even offer a greeting was further cause for alarm.

  ‘You must come with us, Gunnar.’

  ‘What’s happened? Where is Vidar?’

  Flein was only a few winters older than Gunnar and rarely said a word. His role had been to guard Jarl Hegard and blend into the background. It was a job he performed admirably, for a man built as stout and strong as a rock wall. ‘Those whoresons got him is what happened,’ he spat.

  ‘Vidar,’ Dom supplied before he could clarify. ‘He was leaving to come back here two days ago and Baldr and his men took him.’

  Alarm tightened in Gunnar’s gut. Gunnar had been the one to send Vidar back home. Into a nest of vipers, apparently. He shouldn’t have brushed off the boy’s concerns so casually. Perhaps he should have dealt with the issue himself, but he hadn’t bothered to care. By the gods, had his selfishness earned them more trouble? ‘He’s alive, then? Where do they have him?’

  ‘They’re holding him in one of the storerooms.’ Dom glanced at Flein, who nodded once. ‘Gunnar... Your father... He only has days left. His health has been failing for a while, but the past fortnight hasn’t been good. He’s in constant pain and hasn’t left his chamber in days. This is the end.’

  From somewhere deep inside him, a store of anger erupted. Gunnar thought that he’d been past any feeling at all except pain, but he was wrong. Guilt and now anger tore at him, each as vicious as the other, clawing their way out. ‘Baldr wants my father’s place and is holding Vidar to ensure his succession.’

  ‘Aye.’ Dom nodded. ‘He took Vidar so the boy couldn’t rally support.’

  ‘And what of me? Has he not seen fit to put an end to me yet?’

  ‘With Kadlin here, Baldr couldn’t risk Jarl Leif discovering his ploy too soon. Besides, you’re cut off from the world here. He’s had men posted in the forest. I’d bet anything he’ll come for you soon.’

  ‘It doesn’t make sense. Why would Bald
r risk Jarl Leif’s ire on such a ploy? The jarl is friends with my father. He won’t stand idly by and allow this to happen.’

  ‘He won’t stand by and let a jarl’s second take over after his death? Why not? Happens all the time as long as he has support,’ Dom argued.

  ‘Then the men support this? Flein?’

  ‘The men don’t know who to support. No one likes the way Baldr has taken over, but with Jarl Hegard in bad health, no one can afford to speak against him. Baldr has amassed his own following since you’ve been gone.’ Flein shrugged.

  ‘The men would follow Baldr over their jarl’s own blood?’ Rage churned in Gunnar’s belly.

  ‘Nay, Gunnar, but Vidar is no warrior...not yet.’ Flein dismounted and walked to stand before Gunnar. ‘Who would you have them follow? There is no one unless you offer yourself for the task. That’s why we’re here. We may have a chance of turning this without bloodshed. You make your stand and the men make their decision. There will be too much bloodshed if Baldr has his way. He’d have war amongst the men so he can come out on top once they’ve fought each other. Come back with us now, while it’s still early enough to stop.’

  Gunnar stared at Flein and then looked to Dom. Both men had been trusted allies at one time, but that had been long ago. Had their loyalties changed in the years he’d been gone? ‘How did you bypass Baldr’s men in the forest?’

  ‘I know this forest better than Baldr. We went north the day Vidar was taken and cut down southward again. Baldr wasn’t watching for someone to come from the north,’ Dom stated, though his jaw firmed. ‘What are you asking, Gunnar?’

  ‘I’m asking if you want me to come back with you because the men will follow me or because Baldr has sent you for me. He’s a coward. He wouldn’t come for me himself.’

  Silence was his answer. Flein looked stricken. The question sat in the air heavy and thick until Dom cleared his throat and nodded towards the distance. Following his direction, Gunnar could see three distinct figures moving along the edge of the forest, just making their way towards the tall grass of the field. His gut clenched, readying for battle.

  ‘Baldr’s men. If we were on their side, they’d stay hidden, but they want to know why we’re here. What we’re telling you.’

  Flein walked back to his horse and put his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice. ‘What do we tell them, Gunnar? Do we keep them from talking of this meeting to their master? Do you come with us?’

  The mere thought of those bastards watching the house turned his stomach. The thought of them watching him and Kadlin while they played with Avalt outside, watching them by the river, was enough to make his blood boil. Lame leg or not, he’d kill them all. The intensity of his anger surprised him.

  What they were asking wasn’t certain. It was distinctly possible that he’d be cut down as soon as he showed his face in his father’s hall. But then that had been a risk he’d always been willing to take. This is what he was good at; this is what he knew. He was a warrior. He’d die a warrior. ‘Aye, I’ll go back with Dom. But after we’re done here, Flein, I want you to take Kadlin and her son home to her father. Today. I won’t risk Baldr trying to use them as leverage.’

  Flein looked at him as though he was mad. ‘Nay, Gunnar, I go back with you. We have to kill that whoreson and all those who would dare oppose the jarl’s bloodline when he isn’t even dead yet.’

  Gunnar shook his head without taking his eyes from the assassins making their way across the field. His heart pounded with each step that brought them closer. The thundering in his ears almost drowned out Flein’s words and he took a breath to steady himself. He could see how the fight would go down before it even started. The one on the left was already cutting around, hoping to come from behind, but they were too stupid to be coordinated. Their timing would be off. The two in front would strike early and against the three of them they didn’t stand a chance. Gunnar would wager he could take them out himself, but he didn’t have the time to waste on them.

  ‘I won’t go unless I know they are protected. Your job is to see them safely home and inform Jarl Leif of the situation. You’ve guarded my father well these years, now I’d ask that you guard Kadlin and my...’ The word tripped him up. He’d never referred to Avalt in that way, but it felt right. ‘Guard Kadlin and my son.’ This time he levelled his gaze on the large man just in time to see his eyes widen in surprise. Flein would follow whatever order Gunnar gave him, he had no doubt about that now that he’d been reassured of his loyalty, but knowing that Avalt was his son, his blood, would ensure that the man followed the order to his death if needed.

  ‘Aye, I’ll see them home, on my life.’

  Despite Gunnar’s certainty that Flein would offer his vow, the words made relief flood his body. It centred him, lightening his chest and allowing his blood to settle. Gripping the hilt of his sword, he raised it, all the while knowing that the action would spur the assassins to faster action. It would make them careless. Flein and then Dom followed suit, drawing their weapons with the ease born from years of battle, so that when the two finally entered the clearing they were facing three swords. The one in back hadn’t even made it to the house yet, just as Gunnar knew he wouldn’t.

  He was a warrior. This is what he knew.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kadlin waited until the sounds of battle had faded before she moved to press her ear to the front door. She had made everyone else lock themselves in her chamber while she waited in the front room, knife at the ready. She had no idea who had attacked them or who had won the battle until she heard Gunnar’s voice just before he opened the door. Relief like she had never known came over her when he stepped into the room. Before she could remember that she wasn’t supposed to feel all that much for him, she threw herself into his arms, only belatedly realising that he was marked with blood.

  She pulled back, but only enough to look up into his face and reassure herself that he was whole. ‘Are you injured? Tell me you’re all right.’

  He smiled, his gaze turning from ferocious to tender in an instant as an arm went about her. ‘I’m fine, winded but fine. The blood is not mine.’

  Closing her eyes as she let out her breath, she dropped her forehead against his chest and relished the brush of his lips against her temple. ‘Who were those men?’ she asked when she could find her voice.

  After he told her about Vidar, his father and Baldr’s plan to take command, he took her hand and rubbed the pad of his thumb along her palm. It was a move that never failed to make her tremble, but this time she got the feeling that there was something more to come. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke. ‘Flein is taking you and Avalt home to your father.’

  ‘Nay, Gunnar, I don’t...’ She had almost confessed to not wanting to leave him, but that wasn’t really her choice. There wasn’t an outcome of their current situation that she could imagine would leave them happy and whole. She should know because she’d spent the past days trying to figure it out, turning words over in her head, trying to find the right ones that would keep them together. But she hadn’t found them.

  There were no words that could convince her that he wouldn’t leave her again.

  Oh, she had tried to shut down that tiny voice of doubt. When he had made love to her and proclaimed his love in every way but the words, her heart had felt so at peace, so full of him that she thought that what had happened in the past didn’t matter any more. Except that the doubt hadn’t gone away. His touches made her forget, made her brain fuzzy so that she didn’t think it mattered, but in the clear light of day, when Avalt stared up at her with his solemn, trusting eyes, the doubt became louder until she could only hear that voice in her head reminding her that Gunnar had left her before. Even though she was sure that it had been love shining in his eyes as he’d joined his body to hers, he had left just hours later. As much as
she wanted this time to be different, she couldn’t trust that it was.

  She couldn’t trust him. And when he left this time, he would hurt Avalt, too. Now she knew that she had been right. This was him leaving her again. It shouldn’t hurt so much considering she’d expected it, but the words were like a knife’s blade to her chest, cold and sharp, leaving nothing but a burning chill in their wake.

  She nodded and moved back to disentangle herself from him. ‘Then this is how it ends this time.’

  ‘Nay, Kadlin.’ He touched her face with his free hand, his other supporting him on his sapling, and traced his thumb over her bottom lip. ‘It’s not safe for you here. I don’t trust Baldr not to use you somehow. You’ll be safer with your father. I have to go free Vidar so I can’t stay to protect you.’

  ‘I understand.’ Pulling back even farther so that she was just out of his reach was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do.

  One of the men called his name from outside and he dropped his hand to his side as he turned towards the sound before looking back at her. ‘Kadlin.’

  ‘I understand,’ she repeated. ‘Of course you have to go.’ Even though she meant the words, she knew that she wouldn’t see him again. There was no part of her that thought he would come back. ‘Goodbye, Gunnar.’

  ‘This isn’t—’ His words bit off with a curse and he raked his fingers through his hair.

  ‘Don’t pretend this is anything other than it is. You never promised me anything, please don’t start lying to me—’

  He growled as he flung the sapling to the floor and stepped towards her, knocking them both a bit off balance so that her back pressed against the wall and he pinned her there. Before she could react, he forced her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. It was a scorching kiss that ignited into something wild as soon as his tongue swept into her mouth. Her hands came up to push him away, but somehow only managed to fit themselves to his broad shoulders and pull him closer. He ate at her lips, taking every bit that she allowed him to have until he forcibly wrenched his mouth away, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he stared down at her.