Arik’s hands moved around her waist. “Do you know what would have happened that night if I hadn’t been there to save you?”
She fell silent, remembering the terror. But his arms came around her, pulling her against him. “You would have been helpless. And I wasn’t about to stand back and let it happen.”
Katarina stared out at the sea, and the wind prickled a chill over her skin. Not only because of his prediction, but because she sensed that something else was wrong. Something he wasn’t telling her. There was a hint of foreboding within his voice, though she wanted to deny it.
To distract herself, she murmured, “You said we are leaving in the morning. How long will we be gone?”
“Until I’ve rebuilt my strength. Valdr will help me to train among my uncle’s men.”
She turned in his arms to face him. “Will you take your place asjarlof our tribe?”
His gaze locked with hers. “I don’t know.” He looked over at the moon and admitted, “Your wise woman told me that my time here is running out.”
MóðirGerda had said the same to her, and the prophesy frightened her.You were meant to be together, for however short a time.
“She could be wrong.” But a part of her feared that it might be true. She studied him a moment. “There is something else, isn’t there? Something you haven’t told me.”
He met her gaze and fell silent. It was true, then. She waited for him to speak, but he merely said, “One day, I will tell you everything that happened to me. But not yet. You wouldn’t believe me if I did.” He took her hand and kissed it again with reassurance. “All I can tell you is that I shouldn’t have survived that shipwreck. And although I was saved for a reason, I know I cannot stay.”
“Will you leave Rogaland again?”
He shook his head. “You misunderstand me. I have the feeling that I’m going to die, Katarina. I don’t know when or how…but I sense it. I should not be alive at this moment.”
The premonition cloaked him in death, and it unnerved her. He had crossed the boundary once before and Freya had brought him to her. Perhaps to protect her from Leif. Or perhaps there was another reason.
“Don’t say that. You cannot know what will happen.” But cold fear clenched her heart, for the old seer had prophesied the same fate.
“I don’t know how much time I will have,” he continued, “and I don’t know if there is truth to thevolva’swords. But I will fight for every last day I have left.”
She saw the intense determination in his brown eyes. In his arms, she felt safe and protected, though she could not say why. She reached up and touched his face. His beard had grown in, and it felt rough beneath her fingertips. Arik’s eyes grew heated, and he caught her palm, drawing it to his lips.
Her heart beat faster, but she did not turn away. “Then we should make the most of the time we have.”
Eric helped the men push the wooden boat through the shallow water before climbing inside and taking his place at the oars beside Hrafn. Katarina sat at the bow of the ship, her long blond hair streaming behind her. She wore a linen gown dyed green, and her cheeks were flushed from the wind.
Just watching her made him feel the burden of guilt. He had no right to wed a beautiful woman like her, even if it was an arrangement for her protection. She ought to wed a man who could provide her with a home and children—not a man trapped between centuries. But Eric could never stand back and watch her marry a man who would ravage her and break her spirit.
He didn’t belong in this era. And though thevolva’sprophesy sounded rather superstitious, he was rather inclined to believe her. A man from the year 1811 could not possibly remain in the Viking age of 811. He’d nearly had his head taken off by Leif, and no amount of rapier training could have prepared him for this.
No, the odds were that he would die—if not by Leif’s hand, then by a hundred other ways. It was not natural for him to be here.
It sobered him, making him aware of just how precious every moment was. And though it was selfish, he found himself wanting to spend his last weeks with this woman.
Katarina was strong-willed, fiercer than any of the English ladies he’d known. She hadn’t sobbed or faltered in the face of danger. From the moment he’d kissed her, it was as if the years of loneliness had fallen away. Although the marriage had been a means of keeping her safe, he didn’t regret it for a moment.
The longer he remained in this primitive age, the more he felt the trappings of his former life slipping away. There was freedom here, a wildness that flowed through his veins. It was so different among these people, but he welcomed the challenge.
When they were a short distance away from the shoreline, Katarina moved from the bow and came to kneel beside him. Her face had gone the color of snow.
“What is it?”
She leaned in, keeping her voice low. “I saw Leif watching our boat leave. I fear what he might do.” She rubbed at her arms, as if her skin was freezing.
Hrafn was listening, and Eric exchanged a glance with the man. “Will he follow us?”
Her brother shrugged. “He might. But we outnumber him.”
Eric stared at the shoreline, wondering whether there was a threat. He knew Valdr had ordered the man confined during the wedding. But would he seek vengeance?
