“I’m sure she will be fine but let me go get Helga to be sure.”
Steinar nodded. “Thank you.”
“I’msorry to cause you all this trouble,” Eahlswith said, looking at her bandaged foot.
Helga, the village healer had applied a poultice earlier on and declared that everything would be all right if she just took it easy for a day or two. Nothing had been broken, at least, which was a relief. She already felt silly enough.
“Nonsense,” Cwenthryth replied. “You’re hurt and night will fall soon. Of course you cannot go back home now. And it is no trouble. You’re welcome here.”
From his place at the table, Steinar grunted his agreement and started to slice some mushrooms. It surprised Eahlswith to see a man such as him do a task she had only ever seen women do, but it was obvious he knew what he was doing. The onions frying in the pan attested to that. She could already tell the omelette would be delicious. Really, the men in this village were full of surprises. Virile, but caring. Masculine, but willing to help. Formidable, but loving.
An image of Sven flashed in her mind. Yes, he was all that and more.
“You will stay for as long as you need,” Cwenthryth said, placing a cup of ale in her hand. The cup was sturdy and made of wood, nothing like the delicate one she had broken in Sven’s hut.
Guilt sliced through Eahlswith. She had broken the precious object. And then, as if that were not enough, she had pretended not to know Sven. It had hurt him to be dismissed thus. She had not missed the flash of pain in his eyes when she had called him Cwenthryth’s friend. She could tell he would have no problem telling the truth. And yet he had respected her wishes, he had not exposed her lies, or told her friend or his own brother thatthey knew one another already. That they had spent an explosive night together.
Which begged the question. Why wassheso determined to keep their night of passion a secret? Was it because he was her friend’s brother-in-law?
No, as she hadn’t known about that when she had decided not to mention it.
Was it because she was ashamed to have gone to a man who was not her husband?
No. Cwenthryth was her friend, she knew she was not a virgin, and she would not judge her for allowing herself a harmless night of passion, like she did occasionally. But that was precisely it. The night had not been harmless. The other men she’d welcomed in her bed hadn’t meant a thing. Sven did. Or would, if she let him. And she didn’t want to.
“Tell me all about our friends in town.”
Understandably, Cwenthryth was curious. She had vowed to never again set foot in town after the man posing as her half-brother had been killed by Steinar for assaulting her. She had kept her word, only going back once in order to save the man who was now her husband from a false accusation of murder.
“Wassa’s daughter has finally made her choice. She is going to marry the tanner. Poor William is heartbroken over her decision, as you can imagine. Leofric broke his leg last week, falling from a ladder, probably because of the ice covering the rungs. Godgifu’s father has recovered from his illness and Osbert’s house is falling apart,” Eahlswith said, glad to have something else than the brawny Norseman who had carried her across half the village to think about. “The roof is in bad need of repair.”
Cwenthryth sighed. “Good and bad news then, as could be expected.”
“Yes.”
Exactly. Wasn’t that what life was about? Happy one moment and then heartbroken the next.
“My love, can you pass me the garlic from over there?” Steinar asked, as he transferred the mushrooms into the pan.
Eahlswith had never thought envy was a sin she would ever be guilty of. But now she was wondering if she knew herself as well as she thought because as she watched Cwenthryth hand over a head of garlic to her husband, who rewarded her with a tender kiss, she realized that she was jealous. Her friend was married to a man who fried omelettes without being asked, who welcomed her friend under his roof without question and who had just given her another adorable little baby.
Who loved her for who she was.
Later, as she lay on the pallet Steinar had prepared for her, she fought hard against the feeling of dejection. It was not new, but tonight it was especially strong. Five years ago she’d had what Cwenthryth had. And yet now she was all alone.
Eventually, after a long time spent tossing and turning, she fell asleep.
In the morning, though she was limping, Eahlswith found that she could place her foot on the ground. Her injury was indeed not severe. Pretending she had someone important to see in town, she asked Steinar if he could take her back home. Fortunately, he agreed without comment.
The hug she gave Cwenthryth when they said their goodbyes was particularly poignant. Her friend refused to go into town and Eahlswith had decided she would have to avoid the village—or rather a particular Norseman living in it—for the time being. This meant she wasn’t sure when or how they would next meet.
“Take care of yourself,” she told Cwenthryth, feeling bad for not even hinting that this might be her last visit for a while.
Eventually, she would return. Her obsession with Sven would not last, and he surely would forget about her. An uneasyfeeling invaded her. It had been almost six months since their night of passion, and she had thought about it constantly. What was there to say that another half a year would be enough to root him out of her mind?
As for him, he had pounced on the first opportunity to renew his acquaintance with “Alva” and he now knew where to find her, or rather he knew who to ask if he wanted to find her, which she felt sure he would when he saw that, once again, she had left without saying goodbye.
“Take care, as well,” Cwenthryth replied.
