Chapter One
Princess Maithgemm of thekingdom of Strath Clut looked out over the cold, storm-tossed firth towards the lands that should belong to her son and shivered. Here, on the edge of her brother’s kingdom, everything about her life was colder and less comfortable than it had ever been before. Now she was simply Gemma—not Maithgemm—and certainly not a princess but she was grateful the Norsemen had agreed to let her stay, due only to her being the king’s sister and her friendship with the jarl’s wife, Lady Aoife, a fellow Briton.
This time last year she’d been living in the fort at Ir Ysgyn with servants to keep the fires burning, cook her food and bring her anything she desired. She sighed. Life here was not so bad, though. Her status meant her existence was easier and more pleasant than it was for most, and she was well aware it could be worse. She and her son, Caelin, could be dead. Instead, they were essentially hiding in the Norse settlement and she was currently walking with Lady Aoife along the shore.
“Mama, look!” Caelin shouted, then screamed with delight as he swung out over the water on a rope dangling from a tree branch. Gemma tensed, ready to run and pluck him out of the water if he let go. He didn’t, and she laughed and clapped when he landed safely back on the shore beside his two friends, Elisedd and Einar. The two boys were foster brothers — one a Briton and the sonof Aoife’s maid, the other the jarl’s oldest son by his first wife. Their foster father was Arne Olafsson, one of four men known as the Brothers of Thunder. The others included Kirkjaster’s jarl, Tormod, Arne’s brother, Björn, who had helped to rescue Gemma last year from the former royal residence at Alt Clut, and Arne and Bjorn’s younger brother, Ulf.
“Mama! Did you see me?”
“I did,” Gemma said, still clapping.
“Make sure you keep Caelin safe, Einar,” Aoife reminded her stepson.
“Of course,” Einar replied. “But he can do this.”
“I can, Mama! I can do this.” And with that he swung out again. It was strange to hear him speaking Norse all the time, but it had to be done. No one must know they were here until her son’s safety was assured. Besides, Caelin didn’t seem to mind.
Elisedd grabbed the rope from Caelin and took a turn while Gemma and Aoife watched. Elisedd swung much further out and Caelin watched him, envy visible on his face. He would try to go as far as the older boy the next time. Much as she wanted to wrap him in her arms and stop him from doing anything dangerous, he needed to learn what his limitations were for himself.
Elisedd landed and passed the rope to Einar, who showed Caelin how to grip the rope higher and push harder with his legs when he started so he would go further. Caelin was safe with them. The older boys wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Gemma had often heard Arne instructing the boys about their responsibility to the settlement and all its inhabitants.
Sometimes she wondered if he did it knowing she was close enough to hear. And wondered if he included her in that responsibility. Of all the inhabitants of Kirkjaster, he was the one who trusted her the least. She had often noticed him watching her, and on the few occasions when she had ventured further into the woods or close to the shore, she had soon sensed he was close.Once, he had confronted her as she gathered shells on the beach. She had stopped to stare across the firth, much as she was doing now, and had been lost in her thoughts when suddenly she had noticed he was beside her.
“Are you looking for something?” he had asked.
She’d jumped, her heart racing. “Sh… Shells.”
“Why?”
“Caelin… Caelin wanted to play with them.” She had sounded flustered and unsure. Everything about him made her nervous. Not least his appearance. Many of the warriors were scarred, but Arne’s scars covered all his visible skin. His face was scarred so badly he had no beard — something she had learnt was considered a sign of disgrace by the Norse. Not that anyone was likely to consider him a disgrace for any other reason. He was one of the fiercest warriors in the settlement, and many believed the Brothers of Thunder were invincible when they went into battle together.
“Is that all?” he had said.
She had frowned. What else would she have been looking for on the beach? She had followed his gaze to the nearby watchtower. The guards must have told him where she was. It was hardly surprising they were observing her, but she hadn’t expected it to make her feel wretched. Arne didn’t trust her, that was clear. Why then did she find herself so drawn to him?
“It is nice to see Caelin happy. He has settled into Kirkjaster well,” Lady Aoife said, jolting her from her thoughts of Arne. The jarl’s wife placed a hand on Gemma’s arm as they strolled on past the bathhouse.
“It is,” said Gemma, covering Aoife’s hand with her own. She glanced at her friend. Aoife had begged Gemma to come outside with her. Staring at the walls of their rooms and sewing, as they had been forced to do for much of the long winter, had grown tedious, and both had been relieved to go outside. Aoife’s mouthwas tight now, however, and her face pale. They had got colder on their short walk than Gemma had expected, despite their warm cloaks. The wind was bitter, and they were walking slowly because of Aoife’s advanced stage of pregnancy. “Is something wrong?”
Aoife shook her head. “It’s nothing. Perhaps I should rest. Ragna says these pains are normal and can happen for several weeks before the baby comes. I cannot wait for this to be over. I’m so tired all the time, and it will be nice to see my feet again, not to mention being able to stand up and sit down without working out the easiest way to do it first.” She ran her hand over her stomach and smiled at Gemma. “And perhaps Tormod will stop hovering over me so much. Honestly, every time I turn around, he is watching me.”
“He is not watching you now,” Gemma pointed out.
“No,” Aoife said, gesturing behind them. “He has sent Arne in his place.”
Gemma looked around and, sure enough, there he was. Arne Olafsson. She smiled at Aoife and tried not to dwell on her suspicion that Arne was not there to watch Aoife. He was there to watch her. “At least you have a husband who cares. Not everyone is so lucky. And you will be even more tired when the baby arrives, believe me.”
Aoife smiled and nodded. “I’m sorry. I know he is just worried.”
Gemma waited, expecting her to say something more, and looked back at her when she did not. “Aoife?”
“I’m worried. About everything. So much can go wrong.”
Gemma squeezed Aoife’s hand. “You must simply hope and pray. You have been well so far. Try not to worry.”
“But… I feel huge.”
Gemma bit her lip and said nothing. She agreed with Aoife. The babe did indeed seem large. Aoife’s maid, Rhiannon, and Tormod’s aunt, Ragna, were concerned as well. Both women had been through difficult births themselves. “I’m sure all will be well.”No matter what she thought, worrying Aoife further at this stage would not help. There were few guarantees in life.
