Garrick waved the man off and closed his eyes, his head dropping back on his mighty shoulders to face the clear afternoon sky. Brenna knew he was giving thanks to all the gods known to him, her own god included. She returned to wrap her arms around him, putting her head to his chest, the farthest it would reach. His arms came around her to squeeze. She braced herself to bear it.
Her relief was so great she felt tears gathering. That brought laughter, which they both shared for a time.
Finally, she ventured to ask, “Do you want to ride out to meet them?”
“I believe we have reached an age where it might be more dignified to await them at the hall.”
Her brows arched. “’Twill not take us an hour to return to the hall.”
“I know.” He grinned.
That quickly did she find herself back on the ground, and her laughter came for a different reason.
Chapter 17
SELIG WAS PUSHINGhis recovery. Though he was nowise ready to do so, he abandoned the wagon that third morning to ride double with Kristen. Convincing her that he was up to it had taken some doing. Keeping her unaware of his increased pain took even more. But he was determined. He was impatient. And he wanted to be firmly entrenched behind walls before Erika’s brother showed up with the demands she had convinced him would be forthcoming.
The walls would be necessary merely to hold the man off until Selig was well enough to face him. He didn’t want it coming to a battle of armies—if the brother had one at his disposal. A simple one-on-one confrontation would settle the matter, and he felt no qualms about killing the man, not when he would have been killed for the mere suspicion of spying had Ragnar Haraldsson been at Gronwood instead of only Erika, or so she had claimed.
He remembered her telling him that. Mention of being killed had a way of forging in one’s mind. He just wished the fever had notbeen strong even then and he could recall more of the questioning she had put him through, and the torture that had followed. But killing Ragnar would crush her hopes of rescue, which would suit his purposes just fine.
He had been enraged to see the blood on the wagon bed where her feet had been, that day she had walked behind it. The damned woman would bleed to death before she asked for assistance. As prideful as Kristen, but evil instead of good. He would see her arrogance ended and right quickly—once he was recovered.
In the meantime, he didn’t want pain or exhaustion bringing her to her knees. When the time came, he wanted complete, groveling surrender putting her there. Where would be the satisfaction if her body made her succumb but her mind still defied him? So it wasnotconsideration for her that kept her from walking again. It was no more than his determination to get home the soonest.
“They came!” Kristen yelled with excitement.
Selig, sitting behind her on her great horse, had just been glad to see Wyndhurst finally before them. But at Kristen’s shout, still ringing in his ears, he squinted his eyes to make out their parents up on the outer walls, waving at them.
He groaned inwardly. They had said they might come this year, but under the present circumstances, he had been hoping they wouldnot. And he had wanted coddling? He would get too much from his mother, and he could not gainsay her like he could his sister. She would have him to bed and he would stay there untilshedeemed him able to rise from it. And Kristen had already told him she refused to let him go to his own home until he had his weight back. She didn’t trust the women Ivarr had bought to feed him properly.
“Mayhap you could refrain from telling them how little is left of me?” he asked Kristen, his tone teasing, but still hopeful.
“Do not be silly. You can hide that sunken belly with a borrowed tunic, but your loss of flesh is just as noticeable in your face.”
He hadn’t realized that, but should have. “Not so handsome, then, am I?”
“So ugly I can barely stand it.”
She got a pinch, gave him back a giggle, then rode full tilt for Wyndhurst’s gate. Just what his throbbing headache needed. But Kristen wasn’t thinking of his condition now, and in fact, he had assured her he was fine.
He managed somehow to stay in the saddle without gripping his sister too hard. She was out of it the moment they were through the gate and running toward their parents, who were likewise hurrying toward them.
She reached Brenna first to hug her, lifting her off her feet in her exuberance. Their mother was not a small woman. By Celtic standards, she was actually tall. Yet her daughter topped her by half a foot. Garrick had his turn,and it was Kristen who was now lifted and swung around.
Selig stayed where he was. Actually, he didn’t think he could get off the horse by himself without falling flat on his face. He had been eating more food than he ever had in his life these past few days, but his strength was returning only by aggravatingly slow degrees, and the hours they had just ridden had sapped it again.
He took a moment to note where Erika was, and that the rest of their party were coming more slowly through the gate. Royce saw his difficulty and rode toward him, dismounting just before Selig’s mother reached him.
Brenna took one look at him and asked, “How bad is the pain?”
Selig sighed. He could lie, but she would see through it. “’Tis manageable,” he said.
“That does not tell me—”
“It does,” Garrick cut in, moving in front of Brenna to help Selig to the ground.
He was grateful for his father’s strong arm, but he was determined to walk into the hall without assistance, for his mother’s sake. He caught the hand she reached toward him and pulled her close for a hug, which was a mistake. He could not squeeze her as he usually did. She noticed.
