“Caelin,” she said, and the boy came to stand beside her.
“I will see to the boy,” he said. “You get yourself warm.”
“I can look after my son.”
“Can you? What were your plans for tonight again?”
She twisted her hands in front of her. “I… I had to leave. Surely you understand. If those men had seen us—”
“If you had stayed in your room where I put you, then they would never have known you were there.”
She didn’t reply and his suspicions returned.
“Did they know you were there?” he demanded. “Did you speak to them?”
Her head jerked up. “No, I… I did what you told me.” Then she lowered her gaze to the floor and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing would not have driven you to risk your lives crossing these moors.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and kept her full attention on Caelin. “You didn’t want us there. Even Rhiannon said we were a danger.” She turned away from him and the shieling filled with a difficult silence.
Caelin tugged on his sleeve. “We aren’t dangerous, are we?”
Arne knelt beside him and sighed. “It’s not your fault. But we are surrounded by danger and need to be careful.”
Caelin nodded solemnly. “I will, I promise.
“Rhiannon told me about the soldiers. The reward.”
“Then you know why we ran?”
Arne sighed and nodded. “Yes.”
“When can we go home?” Caelin asked.
Arne placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Before we do anything else, we need to get into dry clothes and get warm. Then we need to find food.”
Gemma rummaged in her pack. “I have brought some. It’s not much, but it is better than nothing.” She lifted out some oats, vegetables, and a little smoked fish.
“I’m hungry, Mama,” said Caelin.
Arne saw the concern on Gemma’s face. “Have you eaten today?”
“A little,” she said.
He nodded, relieved she had at least prepared for her journey. “Then, as soon as you are dressed, you can make us some food. I will make sure we have enough wood to get us through the night. Come and stand near the fire, Caelin, while we get you out of those wet clothes.”
The boy was old enough to dress himself, so Arne had to do little except help him untie the wet knots and hand him clean, dry clothes from the pile Gemma had given him. She had packed as much as she could carry, clearly not intending to return. But he still did not understand why she had come this way, away from allthe places familiar to her. She must have been very determined to leave. Or else there was something he didn’t know.
He had positioned himself so that Gemma was behind him as she changed, and he kept his focus on the boy. He heard the rustle of material as she removed her wet clothes and cursed himself for not going out to chop the wood. He had only stayed because… because he worried she would run again. The shieling was draughty, intended only for a few women to live in during the summer months while they tended the sheep, so it had not been built to retain heat as well as most buildings. Satisfied that Caelin was dressed in dry clothes once more, he watched the fire burn brighter. As long as he kept his attention on the flames, he would not be tempted to look at her.
Despite the suspicions he knew were justified, he had to admit to himself the biggest issue he had was that she reminded him of Ingrid in one key respect—he wanted her and couldn’t have her. He’d thought long ago he and Ingrid would get married. They had kept their relationship quiet as Ingrid was not from their village. Hers was a neighbouring one led by a jarl who was their enemy and known for his greed. They had met secretly at an abandoned house in the woods, intending to only tell their families once they married. Then Arne’s father had died suddenly and he and his brothers had left the village suddenly to deal with the arrangements and minimise the disgrace. Tormod’s father had not allowed him to accompany them as he claimed they couldn’t spare another warrior from the village, but Arne was sure the jarl did not want any further association with his dead brother.
He hadn’t been able to meet with Ingrid before he left, and by the time he had returned, Ingrid had already married Tormod and wanted nothing more to do with him. He still wasn’t even sure how Tormod and Ingrid had met and as she hadn’t acknowledged knowing Arne already, he had kept quiet and barely spoken to her again. Seeing her with another man was too painful at first. It hadnot been until months later, once he realised Ingrid was pregnant that he understood her haste to marry. That, and the fact Tormod made no secret of his ambition to become a jarl, and it was clear that Ingrid longed for status and wealth over anything else.
Arne hadn’t known what to do. Tormod’s authority would have been damaged if Ingrid’s deception had become known. So Arne had told no one, just watched from a distance, doing what he could to ensure Einar was cared for and didn’t suffer from Tormod’s neglect of his bastard son. By then, it would have been the ultimate betrayal of the Brothers of Thunder if Tormod had known Arne had been in love with his wife before him – that she carried his child. It would have changed everything.
But that hadn’t been the end of his humiliation. When Ingrid’s family had plotted to murder Tormod, Ingrid had said nothing and simply watched as Arne suffered in Tormod’s place. Afterwards, Tormod had blamed Ingrid’s mystery lover for all of his unhappiness. Arne knew he could never have convinced him otherwise and he worried that Tormod would have sent him away, separated him from his family, if he had learned the truth.
