Aoife smiled at her, genuinely pleased her husband was honouring his word. “You think Håkon will be kind to him?”
“Yes, he has no sons of his own, only daughters who are all nearly grown. His wife Magda will love to have a son to care for.”
“But earlier…”
Ragna sighed. “Earlier, everyone was upset. Angry. And Tormod ensured justice was done and that will be the end of it.”
“You are sure?”
“He is the jarl. The village must obey his judgments when they take place in the Thing. It is our way.”
“I will speak to Elisedd, find out if he knows who did this thing, as well as why and how he came to be here.”
“And if the answers mean you will have to betray your family?”
Aoife regarded the other woman steadily. “Tormod is my husband. He is my family now.”
Ragna considered her for a moment, then nodded. “Come, we have work to do, decisions to make for the future.”
The two women headed outside together.
* * *
When Tormod had arrived at Håkon’s farm the next morning, he’d checked first on Elisedd. Although he had been sure Håkon would not break his oath, Tormod felt the need to prove to his wife that he had taken her concerns seriously and checked on the boy. Elisedd had been fine and had even come out as soon as Tormod had arrived, carrying a spade to help them. Tormod had seen the disappointment on the boy’s face when he realised he had not brought Aoife with him, but he had been pleased when Tormod had spoken to him in Brythonic and assured him that Aoife would visit him later.
“It seems like the boy’s story holds,” Håkon said as they watched the boy trying to dig over a small patch of burnt ground. “There are marks on the beach where a boat had been pulled up.”
“No sign of a boat?”
“No, and I have searched up and down the coast. Whoever started the fire most likely left in it once the blaze took hold.” Håkon glanced at Tormod, then away. “The boy, Elisedd, did not try to run away when I found him. Seemed to think I was his friend. He was worried about your wife’s safety and I don’t think he thought we were the danger.”
“No one will threaten my wife,” Tormod stated, then put a hand on Håkon’s shoulder. “But no one blames you for being suspicious, Håkon.”
“No,” the other man said. “But maybe they should. He’s just a boy… and I wanted him dead for what he had done. What I thought he had done. And then it turns out he was trying to help me.”
“A wise man never makes a decision in haste. It is why we have a Thing. You made the right choice in the end.”
“Your wife…”
“She does not blame you. She just…” Tormod stopped and took a breath. He did indeed wonder exactly what Aoife thought and how she felt about the boy. Was it just as she had said, that he was her maidservant’s child? Was it just because he was a familiar face amongst so many strangers? Or was there more to it than that? Was there a bigger secret here? Had the boy been brought over intentionally? No, that didn’t make sense. If he was being sent to Aoife, the fire would not have been started—and why not just send the boy with her in the first place? And what of his mother? Aoife was clearly worried about his mother’s safety.
“We must work in the belief that this alliance will hold,” Tormod eventually said. “Perhaps the news of it was slow to reach some quarters and this will be an end to it all.” Tormod knew even as the words left his lips that he did not even believe them himself.
“Do you think the boy spoke the truth?” Håkon asked.
“Yes, although maybe he did not tell us the whole story.”
“He is just a child. He may not have known all that was going on, may not have understood the relevance of what he was overhearing. I think he just came with the men whom he thought would take him to your wife. He hinted at there being trouble in Lord Cadell’s household.”
“You have spoken to him?”
“Magda has learnt some Brythonic. She was able to speak to the boy a little.” Håkon bowed his head. “I… I should have asked her to speak to him before I assumed his guilt and dragged him to you for judgment.”
“That’s true. However, it is in the past now. Aoife will ask him later and we will make sure the village knows that neither my wife nor the boy is our enemy.”
Håkon put a hand on Tormod’s arm. “Perhaps you should let your wife spend some time with him. He will trust her.”
Tormod hesitated, then realised what he felt was jealousy that Aoife wanted to spend time with the boy. How ridiculous. They were the only ones of their people here in the village, why should they not want to spend time together? Had he not felt the same when he had found himself in faraway marketplaces or even among the Norse living across the Kattegat?
“I believe the boy,” Håkon said, distracting Tormod from his negative thoughts. “He showed me where the boat came ashore. I could not understand everything he said, but I think he was worried about your wife — I think he thought they meant to kill her. Why would her father want her dead?” He walked away from Tormod and lifted a fork. “Come, I shall repair this damage and show that we will not be forced from this place. I will replant this field with another crop. It’s not too late. Something fast growing.” Håkon nodded. “I will make the best of this.”
“That is good,” Tormod said. “I will help you today.”
“You must have other things to do.” Håkon grinned. “You are a newly married man.”
“Ragna has many tasks for my wife today. I think my aunt is happy to pass many of her responsibilities over. Finding wives for my cousins is something I know she is now ready to see happen sooner rather than later. Besides, the physical work will be good for me,” Tormod said. “Give me time to think. Or give me time when I only need to think of the work. Simple work. An accomplishable task. A relief from all the problems of starting a new life in a new land.”
“We will succeed,” Håkon assured him. “We always do. Have courage.”
“I do,” Tormod said. “Truly. Now let’s get to work.”
The two men worked side by side as the sun grew hotter. Finally Tormod pulled his kirtle off and relished the feel of the sun warming his bare skin. It was not a sensation he had felt often since coming to this land, where even the summers could be wet and miserable. Håkon’s wife, Magda, brought them ale regularly, and soon the worst of the damage to the field had been dug over, the burnt crop now back to being a field ready for planting. The smell of smoke was still in the air, less noticeable than it had been earlier.
By the end of the afternoon, Tormod couldn’t wait to get back to the hall and bathe. He told Elisedd he had done enough and the boy ran towards the water and jumped straight in to swim. Tormod was going to arrange for some more men to work on the bathhouse. The weather had grown warmer these last few days and it was now a priority. He’d tested the waters of the sea-loch late morning and the cold had been breath-taking. Not that it had stopped him from bathing regularly—the bitter smell of the fire was best washed away as often as possible, although he yearned to soak in water that was not cold enough to shrivel his extremities.
“The gods have blessed us with a day fit for our purposes,” Håkon said when they stopped. “It is a sign that we are where we ought to be.”
Tormod looked around, then across the sea-loch to where Cadell’s land lay. He could see some planted fields but it was mostly forested and there were also a few areas of pasture. No fences or boundaries surrounded the fields and the land uses were so very different. Livestock wandered on the beach and Tormod wondered idly how they kept track of their beasts. He would be sure to ask his wife. “Yes, although we have much to learn.”
Håkon followed Tormod’s gaze and laughed. “I think it may be that they have much to learn from us. They do not protect well enough what is theirs.”
“Not in the way we do anyway,” agreed Tormod. “But there may be other reasons. We will be sure to ask and to learn.”
>
Håkon obviously caught the note of warning in his voice as he frowned before he nodded. “Yes, herre. And thank you, I am indebted—but if I could beg another favour? Both of which shall be repaid in full upon the harvest.”
“Yes?” Tormod asked.
“My wife and daughters would like to learn the language of the Britons better. Their lands stretch from here at the Clyde all the way down the west coast. Many of our people trade with the Gaels and the Northumbrians on the east coast; far fewer here in the west. It is a good opportunity to reach a new market. As you know, Magda is a fine seamstress, as are my daughters, and they sell many of their wares. Plus, if the boy is going to stay with us... We will teach him Norse. It will be a show of friendship. Would your wife be willing to teach them Brythonic?”
“My wife?” Tormod had thought only of Aoife taking over some of Ragna’s burdens, although maybe this was a good idea. “Allow me to think about it. And to ask her.”
“It might be a good way of her showing that she wishes to help us…”
“Yes.” Tormod turned to face Håkon. There was a line to be drawn here.
“I’m sorry, herre, I meant no disrespect, it’s just that—”
“I know what it is, Håkon. I am not a fool.”
“No, that you are not.” Håkon started to pull his kirtle back on. Their day of companionship was over. “But there are many—”
“I know,” Tormod said. He was torn. He held suspicions of his own, but he would say nothing to anyone in case he made Aoife’s position even more precarious. Wives, especially jarl’s wives, were often outsiders to a village. But Aoife was not one of their people. She could not even speak their language.
A thought struck him. He’d intended to ask Ragna to teach Aoife Norse. “Your wife, Håkon.”
“Magda? What of her?”
“In return, Magda can teach Aoife Norse. Our wives can work together each day and it will allow Aoife to visit with Elisedd. Yes, I think that may work well for us all.”
Håkon stared at him for a long moment. “Yes, that would be good. Magda is a quick learner, and the girls can take on more of the household tasks. It is time we found them good husbands now we are settled here. Yes, and then Magda can teach others. She will like that, herre. Thank you.”
As Håkon walked towards his home, Tormod closed his eyes and enjoyed the sunshine warming him. Then he opened his eyes, picked up his drinking horn and filled it with ale from the jug, then drank it slowly, relishing the sensation against his parched throat. The cool waters of the sea-loch lay still in front of him, sunlight flashing off the surface and beckoning him to slide into their depths.
He had only taken a few steps towards where Elisedd sat on the shore when he sensed someone watching him. He turned, fully expecting it to be an animal or a bird, but smiled in surprise when he saw his wife standing near the edge of the field, her gaze on him. Ragna was beside her, however, he barely noticed his aunt as he picked up his kirtle and slung it over his shoulder before starting to walk towards Aoife. He may even have swaggered a little.
* * *
Aoife could have simply followed the smell of burnt grass and found the farm, but Ragna had insisted on accompanying her. Along the way she spoke to everyone she passed, doing her best to include Aoife in those conversations, despite how difficult it was as she was confined mainly to smiles and hand gestures. Although many of the people had some words of her language, she quickly realised they were limited to numbers and the names of the goods most commonly traded. Hardly topics of everyday conversation.
“Will you help me learn your language?” Aoife asked Ragna as they left yet another group of curious villagers. Aoife wished she was able to talk to them, ask them about their homes, their families, their lives. Show she cared about them and their needs, and would try to ensure her husband’s decisions took into consideration the needs of the women and children living in the settlement as well as the men. She had seen the workings of her father’s fort first hand and the problems that had often arisen between the needs and wants of the men, particularly the warriors and the other residents of the fort.
“Of course,” Ragna replied. “It is good you have a few words already of Northumbrian. And it is important the villagers get to know you and trust you for yourself.”
Aoife thought about that statement for a few minutes. “It is hard to believe they fear me,” she admitted. “I am only one Briton, a woman, alone in the midst of so many Norse.”
“Ah, but you are married to their jarl. They wonder about the power you may have over him, the ways in which you might betray him, or poison his thoughts against his own people,” Ragna said.
“But…”
Ragna smiled. “Don’t worry, it will all work out. I have been telling them how good the two of you are together. And once children start to arrive, they will soon forget you are not one of their people, for your children will be Norse in their eyes.”
Aoife bit her lower lip. It had only been a few days, but if Tormod continued the way he was, it was unlikely children would be coming along any time soon. He seemed to enjoy her body, but there would be no child if he continued to withdraw from her before he finished the act. Would that count against her in the eyes of the villagers? Maybe Tormod just needed some time. After all, surely he would want sons eventually.
They rounded a final curve and the stench of burning grew greater.
“Looks like they have finished,” said Ragna, looking over at two men in the field.
Aoife followed her gaze and her mouth went dry. There was Tormod. His kirtle was off and his chest glistened in the summer sunshine. She blushed when she heard Ragna chuckling beside her.
“You are not too displeased with your husband, then,” Ragna said. Aoife wasn’t sure what to say. “He is a handsome man.” Ragna slapped her on the back and they watched as Tormod approached.
Tormod kept his gaze on her as he drew nearer, but didn’t smile or react in any way. Once he had reached them, they stood staring at one another. Aoife racked her brain for something to say, but could think of nothing. Her heart thumped in her chest and she worried that Ragna would tell Tormod of her reaction to him.
“You have nearly finished,” was all Ragna said. Aoife breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yes,” Tormod said. “And Elisedd has been a great help. He wishes to speak with you, my lady.”
Aoife frowned at Tormod addressing her so formally, then nodded in agreement.
“I will return to the village,” said Ragna. “Now that you are in the capable hands of your husband.” The older woman headed back the way they had come, chuckling.
Aoife caught sight of Elisedd sitting at the water’s edge and headed towards him. She had taken only a few steps when Tormod caught up to her and took her arm.
“I wish to come with you,” he said.
Aoife glanced over at Elisedd. It certainly did not look like he had been punished in any way and Tormod was pleased with his work. “Why?”
“I wish to hear what he has to say.”
“He may talk more freely if it is just me.” She wasn’t sure why she was pushing the matter. If Tormod wanted to hear what the two of them had to say then he would simply do it, although… she just wanted to feel he trusted her. If she felt that trust, then she would be happy to let him listen.
“And he may say something that means more to me than to you,” Tormod said. “I have much more understanding of the way attacks are planned than you do. Or at least I presume I do.”
Aoife wondered how much of that was true. Did he simply not trust her, or did he just not want to run the risk of her missing anything? She decided to hope for the best, even though inside she wanted it to be different. “Very well.”
Together they walked down to the beach. Elisedd turned at the sound of their feet on the shingle. His face broke into a bright smile at the sight of Aoife and only dimmed a little when he realised Tormod was there too.
“Elisedd,” Aoife sai
d as the boy ran over to her and hugged her. “How you have grown. I nearly did not recognise you yesterday. Why did you come? What has happened at Dun Cadell?”
“I thought I would never see you again,” he said, holding her tightly. His voice broke with emotion and he hugged her tighter, then pulled back, putting on a brave face. “It has been so long. When I heard the men talking about you, I told my mother. She said I had to come with them and try to find you. Everything has changed since the siege at Alt Clut.”
Elisedd refused to meet her gaze after he finished speaking.
“Do you know who did this? Or why?”
Elisedd shook his head. “No.”
Behind her Tormod scoffed and her stomach felt like it was full of the rocks that lay all along the beach.
“You heard them speak. You came across the sea-loch in a boat with these men. You must know who they are,” Tormod said.
“I heard the men speak, but I was hiding and couldn’t see their faces. They didn’t know I was there.” Elisedd looked at Aoife for support. “My mother told me to come here and warn you, to make sure that you did not get the blame again for something that was not your fault.”
Aoife saw Tormod frown at those words and hurriedly questioned Elisedd about the details before Tormod could ask the boy what he meant.
“I hid under some sails on the deck.”
“That was quite a risk to take,” Tormod said, clearly not believing him.
“They would not use the sails that night. It was too calm. It was one of the reasons they had chosen it, as the wind would not spread the smoke and give you warning of the fire.”
This time Tormod said nothing, so Elisedd transferred his attention back to Aoife. “One of them was Rhydderch’s son.”
“Your father’s steward?” Tormod asked.
“Yes,” Aoife said. It didn’t surprise her. Rhydderch had always sided with her stepmother — even over her father. She had often worried about how loyal he was to her father, however, nothing she said had shaken Cadell’s trust in Rhydderch. Aoife had never understood it.
VIKING'S CURSED BRIDE, THE Page 9
