“I thank you.”
She almost closed the gap between them and reached up to kiss him, but then at the last moment stopped herself. What was she doing? Only a moment ago she had told him they should forget about their night together and revert to a friendly relationship, and he’d agreed it was for the best. They had to go, before she made a mistake that ruined everything.
Torsten seemed to think the same thing because he cleared his throat. “Let’s go. The rain will not stop anytime soon, so there’s no sense in delaying any further.”
Without waiting for her answer, he headed out into the rain and straight toward the horse he had tethered to a crumbling pillar the evening before. While he saddled the animal, Aife wentto retrieve the saddlebags. A moment later, they were ready to depart.
The journey was spent in silence and soon they arrived in view of the familiar thatched roofs. Because of the rain, no one was about and they made their way to Aife’s parents’ hut without encountering anyone.
“Aife!” Her mother gasped when she opened the door and saw her and Torsten soaked to the bone but alive and well. Dropping the spoon she was holding, she threw herself into her arms. “Thank God! We saw Grendel and Fáfnir trot back home yesterday evening and immediately understood something had gone wrong. Because of the weather, we decided to wait until the morning to send a search party. But we were so worried! What happened? Did you get stuck in the storm? But…wait, what’s this? Are you hurt?” She drew back and brushed the bruise on her cheek, concern swirling in her eyes.
“Worry not. I will explain everything later.”
Frigyth’s gaze darted from her to Torsten and her eyes widened further when she saw the bruise on his temple. “Lord, Torsten, look at you, are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you,” he answered, staying by the door so as not to drip water all over the floor. “But I’ll have to go speak to my father.”
Aife nodded. She knew Wolf would want to know about the Normans’ actions. Being the one in charge of the relations between the Norse settlement and the local people, he had to be told what had happened without delay and try to locate this Ranulf’s clan. If they were really intent on getting rid of Norsemen and raping their women, they had to be stopped.
“Thank you,” she told Torsten before he could leave. “We’ll speak later.”
After one last nod, he headed back out, closing the door behind him. Aife’s chest constricted when he disappeared fromview. It seemed odd to be without him. But of course, there was nothing more normal. She had better get used to the idea. After two weeks of madness, they would be back to just being friends.
“Here, get yourself warm,” her mother said, herding her to the firepit where a pot of stew was bubbling away. The smell of onions reminded Aife that she had eaten little the day before and nothing at all this morning. “Are you hungry?”
“I am, thank you,” she said, accepting a bowl of the fragrant stew.
“You will also need a change of clothes.”
“Yes, and a rest.” After all the events of the day she had found it hard to fall asleep, and now that she was home and safe, she was feeling the effects of her sleepless night. She just wanted to get fed, get warm, get to bed, and fall into oblivion. “Then I promise I will tell you everything.”
The expression on his parents’face when they saw him was one Torsten wished never to see again. But it was little wonder they would worry. With his chin cut and his face bruised he would look as if he’d been in a fight. Which, of course, he had.
“What happened?”
His parents knew he was not the kind to get himself embroiled in pointless brawls, so they would have understood this was serious.
“Aife and I were abducted, or rather tried to be, by a group of Normans.”
His mother gasped. His father arched a brow. “Normans?”
“Yes. Four of them. A ginger-haired man named Geoffroi, who seemed to be their leader, another one named Girard, who will likely have a twisted ankle, and a third, older one namedEnguerrand, who spoke with a strong foreign accent. The fourth one was tall with dark hair. I don’t know his name.” At the mention of the man who had hit Aife and almost raped her, Torsten felt his body tense. He sincerely hoped the bastard had met his demise by now. “We happened upon them at the edge of the forest, not far from the Roman ruins, while we were out riding yesterday.”
Could men blush? Torsten hoped not, but he felt his heartbeat increase at the mention of the place where he and Aife had spent a scandalous night in each other’s arms.
“We saw Fáfnir trot back into the village alone with Grendel which is why, now that the storm has passed, I was about to send out a search party.” His father sounded suspicious. “I certainly never thought you’d gone riding without any saddle or bridle.”
Torsten shrugged, trying to appear natural. “I sometimes do. It’s good practice for balance, I find. I take it you got both horses safely, then. That’s good. But wasn’t there a third one with them? A black gelding?” he asked, eager to change the topic.
“There was. One of the Normans’ beasts, I take it?”
Torsten nodded. “He almost trampled his rider to the ground, which caused the man to twist or perhaps even break his ankle. The animal did go after Grendel when he spooked, so I guessed he would have followed him all the way to the village. Tonnerre, his name is.”
“Ah. Thunder.” After the recent invasion, his father had started learning the Norman tongue. Having to deal with the people who had arrived from Normandy with the new king had become increasingly commonplace. Unfortunately, the exchanges were not always cordial, which was why he asked his next question. “Is there anything else you can tell us about those men?”
“They mentioned a Saxon called Ranulf who had a clan they wanted to be part of. In fact, that is why they captured us. Theywanted to impress him, which is why I’m guessing the man hates Norse people.”
Though clearly, he was not above raping the women, if they were beautiful enough. Torsten’s gut roiled anew at the thought of what had almost happened to Aife.
