“I’m not moving and making you a target.”
“And I’m not remaining here forever waiting for her to tire of spying on us.”
Gressa pushed Strian from her, her body unhappy as he slid from her and causing her to moan. She slipped from beneath him and stood gloriously naked before the woman who coveted her husband.
“I know you saw everything,” Gressa called out. “You can’t believe he wants you or anyone else after what you saw, what you heard. Leave now, and we will pretend like we never saw you.”
“You have an answer for everything, Sami,” Betje called back. “But he cannot be everywhere at once. He can’t watch you every second during battle, not if you want him to live. No one wants you alive, but everyone wants you dead. If it’s not a Welshman, then it’ll be one of Grímr’s men. If not one of them, then a Norseman, or woman, will do it. You don’t belong with us, Sami. You won’t breed with our men and bring your filth into our village, our tribe. But I will bear your man’s child one day, and you will be dead and unable to stop me.”
“Dead women don’t fuck.” Gressa called back as Betje turned away.
Betje whipped around with a knife in her hand, but Gressa had expected it and was quicker. She had already snatched a knife from the pile of clothes. As Betje raised her arm, Gressa released the blade, hurtling it toward her newest nemesis. It embedded in the other woman’s throat, and Betje collapsed with a soft gurgle and sightless eyes.
Twenty-Four
Gressa stared for a long moment at Betje’s body before looking back at Strian, shaking her head.
“They’ll never accept me. Your warning carries no weight.” Gressa began pulling her clothes back on.
“That’s not true. Betje had more reason than most to be hateful, even if she should have directed that hate at me. The rest of the tribe isn’t like her.”
Gressa felt her temper rising as she looked at Strian. She saw the concern in his eyes while she heard his conviction in his voice, but she knew he was being naïve. She shook her head.
“You are but the jarl’s son’s friend. You are neither the jarl nor his heir. Your words don’t carry any real weight. You can’t change the mind of people who have hated my people. Betje is just the first.”
“Your people? I thought I was your people.” Strian dragged his tunic over his head.
“Apparently not. I seem to be more than only half Sami to our tribe.”
“She doesn’t speak for everyone.”
“No. Just those who aren’t your friends. Which is everyone else in the tribe.”
“My friends? So now they aren’t yours? Your family?”
Gressa pushed hair from her eyes as she finished dressing.
“Strian, what are you and the others going to do? Put your lives on hold to be my nursemaid? Go with me everywhere, never leave me alone, because it’s not safe for me? That’s too much to ask. And it’s ridiculous.”
“Then I keep you alive long enough to get to Wales, and we make our home there, just as we talked about.”
Gressa clamped her mouth shut. She knew they would only go around in circles since they were both right in their own way. Instead she looked at Betje.
“What about her?”
“She threatened you. You were well within your rights. If the Mackays want to offer her one of their Christian burials they can, otherwise, she can remain where she lies. It doesn’t matter one way or another because Valhalla doesn’t await her.”
“And what do we say to Ivar?”
“He’ll be the first to understand. He knows the wrongs he’s done us both. He knows the error he made in trying to bind me to that hateful bitch. It won’t come as a surprise since he’s seen Betje try to seduce me since you returned.”
Strian wanted to pull the boot from his mouth once the words were out.
“Just how many times was that? Just what happened between you two those few times you said you were alone?” Gressa demanded.
“We were alone three times while I was supposed to be courting her. She tried to kiss me each time and once succeeded. I kissed her back, wondering if I could move on. It took only a moment for me to realize how wrong it felt. I pushed her so hard she fell. That’s when she swore she would burn all of your belongings once I married her. Since we arrived home, I haven’t been alone with her once. She has tried to flirt with me in front of Ivar, even hinted that my marriage to you was over when you didn’t return and that her claim to marrying me stood. She tried to brush against me or flaunt her breasts, but she only became angry when I ignored her. Gressa, I never wanted her, and I can’t say I regret she’s dead. But I won’t let a dead woman come between us.”
“Then you should have told me all of this.”
