“You did nothing wrong. I should have been more careful, guessed that the place was dangerous. After the rain we’ve had, the land was bound to be unstable.”
He winced. Yes, the healer had said he would have a terrible headache. It seemed she had been right about that, at least. Would she be proven right about her other prediction?
Swallowing her fears, Aife reached to the potion she had placed on the floor by the pallet earlier. Talking could wait. For now, he needed to rest and get better.
“Here,” she said, uncorking the vial. The smell was strong, earthy and not altogether pleasant, reminiscent of leaves rotting on the forest floor after a downpour. “This will help you to sleep and forget the pain in your head. It’s the best thing you can do for now, while we wait for people from the village to arrive.”
To her relief, though he did grimace when the smell hit his nostrils, Torsten drank the contents of the vial without protest. Moments later he was asleep again, getting the rest he needed. Seeing as there was nothing else to do but to wait, Aife took her place back in the chair and placed her head over her arms like she had done before.
A gray morning light had started to filter around the ill-fitting door when Aife next opened her eyes, indicating that she had slept, at least a little. Carefully, she stretched the stiffness out of her muscles. She had not dared lie next to Torsten in case she caused him pain when she inadvertently rolled over in her sleep, but the night spent on a chair in an awkward position haddone little to ease the pain in her own body. Outside, the village was slowly waking up, the noises far more unpleasant than the ones in her village. A man coughed just outside the window, then scolded a child, who started to cry. A cat screeched at the same time as a woman cursed. Had she stepped on its tail by accident? Had she kicked it on purpose? Aife rubbed at her temples, wishing she was back home, in her peaceful environment.
She had just added a log to the dying fire embers when footsteps were heard on the gravel surrounding the hut, too heavy to be those of the healer—at least she hoped so. A moment later, someone pushed the door open and Sigurd, her father, entered.
Aife threw herself into his arms. “Faðir!” Never had she been more relieved to see anyone. She had feared seeing the healer, back for more gloomy news.
“Daughter, look at me. Are you well?” He drew back to cradle her face in his hands, looking anxious, and no wonder. This was the second time in less than a week that she’d come back to him hurt.
“Yes, I’m well,” she said hurriedly, knowing her bruises and cuts would worry him. But it was nothing, they would heal in no time. “It’s Torsten… We were on the beach gathering cockles, everything was going well. And then…the cliff started to crumble away. He was the one caught under the falling rocks because he wanted to protect me and he?—”
She shook her head, unable to say any more.
“He will be fine,” her father soothed. “He is his true father’s son. The man’s indestructible, or have you not noticed?”
Though he meant to reassure her, Aife couldn’t raise a smile. Yes, the Icelander was strong, but he was still only human, just like his son. They were still susceptible to injury. “I know, but the healer said he would?—”
“Yes, I saw her when I arrived. A most dour woman, who clearly isn’t used to dealing with Norsemen.” Her father placed a kiss on her hair, like he’d done when she’d been a girl. The gesture never failed to soothe her. “But she doesn’t know Torsten. Let Helga see him before you despair.”
Aife nodded. She had to believe Torsten would be all right because the alternative was too dreadful to contemplate.
“Let’s leave, please, as soon as we can.” She couldn’t bear to stay another moment in this place. But would Torsten be able to travel? Would the journey not pain him or cause his injuries to worsen?
Her father seemed to read her mind. “Stay here with Torsten. Let me go and speak to the villagers to see what they think. We have the means to take him back home. Björn and I came in Magnus’s cart as soon as we got your message. Wolf would have come too, but he was in town when we left.”
Of course, he would have rushed to his son’s side if he’d been able to do so. But her father and uncle would take care of him just as well. Aife bit her bottom lip at the thought of getting back to the village. How would she face Wolf and Merewen? Would they blame her for their son’s injury? Even if they did not, she knew she would blame herself. She already did.
Left alone, she poured herself a drink of ale, wishing it were some of her brother Eirik’s strong mead. It might help her calm the worst of her anguish.
“What did the healer say?”
She froze, lips on the rim of the cup. Damnation! Contrary to what she’d thought, Torsten was awake and he’d heard what she had told her father. Even if she had not finished her sentence, he would have understood that something was wrong, that he was not just suffering from a headache. When she finally dared to turn around, he was looking at her with burning eyes.
“What did she tell you?” he repeated.
“I… She didn’t really s-say anything other than?—”
“Don’t lie. She told you something that upset you.”
Oh, he knew her too well. Not that it was hard to see her turmoil. He also knew she would not refuse to answer and be honest with him, so he waited. Eventually, she relented.
“She said you might not be yourself even after you’d recovered from the bruising on your spine. Various heavy rocks fell on your back and your legs…” Her voice trailed away. There was a difference between being honest and being blunt. At least she was the one telling him what could happen, not the Saxon healer, who would have simply told him he could forget any idea of a normal life from now on. “It might take you a while to…”
He glanced at his mid-section and finished the sentence for her. “To function like a man. In all ways.”
Aife fell to her knees once again. “I know she’s wrong. You heard my father. You’re one of the strongest men I know.”
Torsten gave a small smile at her protest. Trust Aife to try and minimize what had happened. He loved her for placing her trust in him, but he knew it was not that simple. And he did feel odd, as if the lower half of his body were still buried under the rubble.
“It has nothing to do with strength and we both know it.”
