An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach when there was another loud splash. Something was very wrong.
Instinct made Elena throw the door open, only to see a woman holding Matheus’s head under the water. She was trying to drown him.
Elena didn’t stop to think—she threw herself at the woman and pulled her off the boy, dragging him out of the water. He was choking and coughing, his face nearly blue from lack of air.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, though she already knew the answer.
The woman glared at her. “He’s cursed by the gods. Nothing but an empty-headed fool who can’t do anything. He should have died when he was born.”
“And now you’re trying to kill him?” Elena was aghast at the thought. “He’s just a boy.” She went over to Matheus, who was on his hands and knees, water dripping down his matted hair. He wouldn’t look at her, nor did he speak.
“He won’t obey, and I’ve had my fill of it. No one will foster one such as him.”
Elena touched the boy’s shoulder, but he wouldn’t look at her. He sat upon the dirt floor and had wrapped his arms around his knees. He was trembling hard. In the corner, an older dog whimpered, his tail thumping the ground.
His mother opened the door wider. “If you’re wanting to take him, do it now before my husband returns.”
The boy appeared in a state of shock, and he seemed younger than the age of seven. His arms were thin and bony. Bruises covered his small frame and a few cuts had scabbed over on his legs. She couldn’t even tell the color of his eyes.
“I will take him,” Elena heard herself saying. “But he won’t come back to you when he’s grown. Not after you tried to drown him.”
“I don’t care what happens to him.” The woman spat on the ground. “If you want a boy who’s naught but trouble, I won’t be sorry. He’s just a mouth to feed. He’ll never be of any use to anyone.”
Elena glanced back at Agata, who was still waiting outside. Her friend peered inside and asked, “Do you need my help?”
She wasn’t certain. Though she hoped the boy would come of his own accord, he might cry or scream if she tried to touch him. Gently, as if approaching a wounded animal, Elena said, “I’m going to pick you up, and you’ll come with us now. We won’t harm you, I promise.”
He didn’t protest when she lifted him up, and he was so light, she could hardly believe he’d been fed at all. Possibly he hadn’t.
Agata held the door for her, not speaking a word. Elena’s heart was heavy as she turned her back on the boy’s mother, but there was a renewed sense of purpose. She would take the boy home and look after him, teaching him that cruelty did not have to be a part of his life.
“My name is Elena Karlsdotter,” she told him.
Throughout the walk home, she continued to tell him about where they were going and what would happen. In her arms, she felt him shudder. The longer he held his silence, the more she doubted if he was even capable of speech.
Agata stopped before her own home and said, “I have some clothes that my boys outgrew, if you’re wanting some for him.”
“I’d be grateful.” Elena met her friend’s gaze. “And I am glad you brought me to him.” Though she hardly knew the child, if she had come only minutes later, he would have been dead. She cringed at the thought of it.
Agata nodded. “I’ll bring the clothes soon while you take him home and give him a meal. You might also ask for help from Ragnar tonight.”
Though she faltered at the idea of asking him, she recognized that she might indeed need help. Ignoring the woman’s suggestive look, Elena said, “Thank you for the clothes.”
She continued walking back to her own home, but there was no need for Agata to send for Ragnar. He was already there, waiting for her. When he spied her holding the boy, a questioning look came over his face.
“This is Matheus,” Elena said. “He’s going to be my son now.”
At the incredulous look in his eyes, she sent Ragnar a warning look. “We will talk more after he’s had a meal and I’ve tucked him in to sleep.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ragnar opened the door for Elena, wondering why she’d gone back for the boy. But then, it was clear that this child had been hurt before, from the multiple bruises on his skin.
It was like looking at a younger version of himself. And when she met his gaze, he knew precisely why she’d brought him back.
“Where are his parents, Elena?” he asked quietly.
She sent him a narrowed gaze that told him she’d reveal more later. The determination on her face was that of a mother lioness, ready to defend her newest charge. Gently, she lowered the boy to stand, but he backed away from both of them.
