“My brother, Anders,” he replied, not looking at her. He waved at his brother, then stopped when he saw the small figure beside him and dropped his hand. “And my son.”
“Your son?” Aoife asked.
“Yes.” Tormod stood stock still, staring. For the first time, he admitted to himself that while he had been expecting the boy in one way, in another, he had hoped his father would keep him, perhaps forever. But why should he? The boy was no more his grandson than he was Tormod’s son.
“Tormod?” Aoife said. He looked at her. She closed her eyes and swayed a little. “I don’t feel well.”
He helped her sit on the rocks. She put her head down and he touched her hair gently with his fingertips.
“Better?” he asked when she looked up at him a few minutes later. Some of the colour had returned to her cheeks.
“Yes, thank you. Go, greet your son.” She smiled wanly at him. “Do you think he will like me?”
Tormod stared down at her. “Does it matter?”
She looked at the boy on the boat, then at Tormod. “I don’t… I thought if I am to look after him that it would be better if we were friends.”
Tormod said nothing for a moment. “So long as he obeys you, there is no need for him to like you.”
“I thought you would prefer it if…” She frowned and looked towards the shore. “The boats are nearly in. You should go—they are waiting for you.”
“Will you be all right?”
“Yes. I will sit here for a few minutes before I come and join you.”
Tormod started to walk towards his brother Anders’ boat, his steps becoming quicker as he grew closer. Anders leapt ashore and ran towards him. When they met, the two men embraced, and Tormod felt a sudden pang of longing for the home he had not seen for more than two years. He shook off the thought. This was home now.
“It is good to see you, brother,” Anders said. “And look who I have brought.”
“Hello, Father,” Einar said, stepping forward.
Tormod looked down at the boy. He had grown since he had last seen him. He must be eight now. Around the same age as Elisedd. Tormod grasped the boy’s shoulder and felt him trembling. He peered into eyes matching his first wife’s. Eyes which had hidden a lie Tormod could never forgive. He snatched his hand back and turned away.
“Tormod!”
He stopped at Anders’ shout.
“Your son has been looking forward to seeing you. Will you not take him and show him his new home?”
Tormod stared at Anders, then blinked and looked at Einar. How had he thought the boy could stay with him and Aoife? He was a constant reminder of Tormod’s past. He should start his family anew, with his wife.
“Hello.” Aoife’s voice startled him. She had come over without him noticing. She knelt down beside Einar and took his hands. “Iam Aoife. Your father’s new wife.” Tormod would have congratulated her at how good her Norse was in such a short time, but he was too shocked to say anything. “Tell him I will find somewhere for him to stay, and I will look after him as if he were my own,” she added in Brythonic.
But Tormod said nothing.
After a moment, Anders cleared his throat and translated what Aoife had not been able to say in Norse for the boy. The boy smiled at Aoife, but his eyes were wide.
“Are you not going to introduce me to your new wife?” his brother said. “And then we can talk while she finds a bed for your son. I am unable to stay and must leave as soon as the boats are ready to return.”
Tormod made the introductions, then Aoife led the boy towards the hall. He was sure Ragna would find somewhere appropriate for the boy to stay, for the time being at least. Tormod would resolve the matter soon. As he turned to help unload the boats, he saw many of the villagers watching the boy, nudging their neighbours to look over at him as he entered the hall with Aoife. They quickly looked away when they noticed Tormod staring at them.
Chapter Twenty-six
The boy’s hand waswarm against her own. Einar. His name was Einar. She couldn’t understand Tormod’s reaction. He was a fine boy, hale and strong, although it was clear that there were few similarities between them. Even Tormod’s own brother had been shocked by his dismissal of the child. No, not shocked, Aoife realised. It seemed Anders had been ready for Tormod’s reaction and prepared to step in. Whether he was Tormod’s natural born son or not, Tormod had indicated that it was necessary to act as if he was and yet it was Tormod who was not doing so.
The other villagers appeared content to maintain the pretence and Aoife was determined to care for the boy, as she would wish a child of her own to be cared for. She had been around the same age when her own father had remarried and she was going to be a better stepmother than Ula had been to her.
Another wave of dizziness hit her and she staggered.
