Tormod drove the cartback to the village in silence. It didn’t matter that they didn’t speak as Tormod knew they had reached a new understanding of one another. The way Aoife held firmly to his hand proved it.
Tormod hadn’t replied to her request not to visit her father’s fort. Saying he would not go was a promise he could not keep. Sooner or later, he must, and he knew it would be sooner. He wanted to ask her more about her visions, but decided she had had enough for the day. Once they were well rested and well fed, he would ask her.
A seer? It explained so much. He was relieved that was all she had been hiding from him. He could almost understand why, especially having seen the bruises on her body when she first arrived. One fist clenched around the reins at the memory. Perhaps he should ridden to the abbey and confronted whoever had done that to Aoife. One day he would, but the time had not yet been right.
Tormod squeezed Aoife’s hand as they crested the hill and the village came into sight. She smiled at him. He smiled back, noting the colour had returned to her cheeks and there was no sign of her earlier weakness. In fact, she appeared healthier than she had in the time she’d been there. It was strange. The weeks seemed to have both passed quickly and to have lasted a lifetime, as if he hadknown her for far longer than the time spent with her. His heart clenched as he looked at her. No matter what, he felt the gods had had a hand in leading him here, bringing Aoife to him. She was a passionate and vibrant woman and he was glad he had saved her from her fate of being left in the abbey, forgotten and uncared for. He wondered if she felt the same, or if she would rather have stayed there—with her own people.
“Are you sorry you are here?” he asked suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you are away from your family, your home, your people.”
“I have not been a part of those things since my mother died,” she said. “And since my curse was discovered, I have been treated with suspicion.”
“It must still be strange and unsettling to be amongst people so different from your own.”
She shrugged. “It is certainly comforting to know that Elisedd is nearby. I remember when he was born. It was a stormy night. Rhiannon had helped me to bed and was brushing my hair when she bent double, screaming. I was scared. I was too young to be there when my sisters were born, but Ula said I could be at Rhiannon’s birthing. I called for help and took her to her room. She could hardly walk there and we had to stop. Her labour went on all night. I held her hand. I will never forget the pain and fear in her eyes when she looked at me and then…” She stopped. “It was a relief when he was finally born.”
Tormod brushed a tear from her cheek and pulled her against him. A knot of tension within him began to build. “It is not always easy to bear a child,” he said as he stroked her hair.
She pulled away a little. “But I remember her face after he was born, the joy on it. It seemed to make it all worthwhile, and then…”
“Then?” he prompted, dreading what came next even though he knew Rhiannon had survived. Memories of Ingrid, how pale shehad been, how pale and cold their child. She had lived only long enough to know their son had been stillborn, that her efforts and pain were for nothing. A wave of sorrow swept over him, strange given that at the time it had been the one emotion he’d been unable to feel.
“She kept bleeding. The midwife tried everything she knew, and finally it stopped. But it took a long time for her to recover. I would have helped with Elisedd, but of course, Ula would not allow it. Rhiannon was, after all, my maid. She has never had any more children.” Aoife sighed. “She must be so worried about Elisedd.”
“I’m sorry,” Tormod said. And he realised he really was.
Emotions whirled within him. Aoife had seen a terrible side of childbirth. He had seen it, too, had already lost one wife that way. A sense of guilt tormented him when he remembered at the time thinking it was justice for what had happened to Arne. It was not unreasonable to think he might lose another wife and child. The thought made him realise how much he didn’t want that and hoped Ragna was wrong about Aoife already being with child.
“I’m sorry, you lost Ingrid when Einar was born. I shouldn’t have…”
Tormod pulled away from her. “Einar?”
“He is a fine boy. It is sad that he never knew his mother. That she never got to know her son.”
Tormod’s heart began to pound. He let go of Aoife’s hand. Did she not realise? He swallowed.
“Was this another reason why you were so reluctant for me to conceive? In case I die in childbirth?”
He wondered what to say. Perhaps he should just be honest with her now. After all, Håkon’s comments earlier must have been confusing for her. There was no point in trying to pretend any longer. And yet, it made him feel weak, and weakness was something a jarl could not afford.
“It is part of it,” he said finally, then sighed. “It is complicated…” Just then, they rounded the final turn before the village. Tormod drove down to near the stables and a couple of boys ran out to deal with the horse and cart. Aoife smiled at them and Tormod thanked them.
As they headed for the main hall, he noticed Aoife watching Einar sitting next to the fire with Elisedd. Arne must have thought it better for Elisedd to remain in the village rather than return to the farm amidst the sickness. The two boys had a game board out in front of them. Aoife clapped her hands in delight. “Listen.”
Tormod listened to the two boys playing the game. They stopped often for Einar to explain rules and tactics when Elisedd made a mistake, giving him a chance to correct it.
“Einar is a kind boy. He is helping Elisedd to win,” Aoife said to him.
Just then Einar caught sight of Tormod and after only a handful of moves had beaten Elisedd.
Elisedd sighed and stared sadly at the board. “Again?”
“This time I am not going to help you,” Einar said. There was a nasty tone in his voice that had not been there before. The Norse boy straightened and cleared the board, preparing to play again.
Elisedd frowned at him.
