“But—”
“Their mother is dead,” Caelin said, his voice breaking. “Someone has to take care of them.”
“There will be no danger to Caelin,” Arne said. “I promise you.”
Gemma nodded, then sighed and sank down beside her son. “We will do our best with them for now, Caelin. I know you will give them the best chance of surviving.”
“I don’t want to lose someone else,” Caelin said, a single tear making its way down his cheek.
Arne noticed the sadness on Gemma’s face as well. Was she thinking of her husband and daughter? He felt an impulse to comfort her, but didn’t know what to do or say which would help.
Instead, he took the second cub from Caelin and cradled them both in his hands while Gemma hugged her son, murmuring to him softly. Then she wiped his face and held his chin with her fingers.
“Find a basket to put them in. We’ll give them blankets and put them next to the fire.” Her tone was brisk, practical and was enough to both reassure the boy and spur him into action.
Caelin pushed himself up and set about searching the shieling.
Gemma turned her attention to Arne and said quietly, “What if they die now? He will be devastated.” Gemma glanced at Caelin, wringing her hands in her lap.
Arne moved the cubs into the crook of one arm, then sat down beside her and gripped her hands with one of his to still them. “They may well die,” he said softly, “and there is nothing we can do about that. All we can do is feed them and keep them warm but…” He frowned at her when she opened her mouth to speak, relieved when she closed it again. “At least this way they have achance. And Caelin will know he did his best. In the end, it is all any of us can do. If we had left them out there, they would certainly have died and he would have been just as distraught as you fear he might become.”
She bowed her head, and he wondered what she was thinking. “As would Caelin and I,” she said eventually, lifting her head. “We owe you our lives.”
He searched her face for any sign of deceit. But she seemed sincere. More worryingly she sounded… defeated.
“One day, I hope to be able to thank you and your brothers. Björn saved us before, and Ylva. Tormod let us stay in Kirkjaster and asked few questions or expected much of us.” She looked at him, and twisted her hands around to hold his. “But if you had not followed us yesterday, that would have been Caelin and I freezing to death in the woods.”
He pulled his hand back as if she’d burned him. She frowned, as if confused by his actions, and reached for him again.
“Don’t,” he said gruffly. What was she doing? Was she offering herself to him? Did she think to repay him by taking him to her bed? He had a sudden memory of Ingrid’s face, her expression as she encouraged the others to hurt him. He tried and failed to stop a shudder running through him.
Gemma stopped and drew her hand back, blushing and shaking her head. She lowered her gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean…. Tell me what you want from me.”
“Nothing. I want nothing from you except for you not to be a threat to the lives of those I care for.”
A silence followed, broken only by the sounds of Caelin searching.
“You are willing to keep the wolves,” she said, finally.
He peered down at the cubs. One day, when they were grown, the wolves might indeed turn on them, but he knew he would see the signs long before it became a danger. Most likely, they wouldleave of their own accord once able to fend for themselves. He looked back at her. She was a woman, one used to a certain status and level of power, but a woman nonetheless. Alone and with her son, she was vulnerable. She was placing a great deal of trust in him.
He should deal with the situation as he found it and stop seeing her as being like Ingrid. His past was not Gemma’s fault. A day or two and he would have her safely back at Kirkjaster. He must make her see that it was the best course of action. Tormod would make arrangements. For everyone’s sake. He met her worried gaze and opened his mouth to speak, but Caelin thrust a basket between them.
“I have found a basket. It might be the one the shepherds use for their bread.”
“It may well be,” said Arne, grateful for the distraction.
“And this is the smallest blanket I can find.”
“Well done,” Gemma said. She stood up and took the two items from Caelin, then set about making a bed for the cubs. He watched her, noting that although she may not be used to manual work such as most women were, like cooking and scrubbing, the care with which she smoothed the blanket into the basket was obvious. When she had finished, he placed the cubs inside, seeing her smile as she covered them and tucked the blankets around them. He didn’t miss her rubbing each tiny head, nor the tender joy on her face in response to the little noises the cubs made. Princess or not, she was a loving mother—there was no doubt about it. He could almost believe now that her entire reason for having left Kirkjaster so abruptly was to ensure her son’s safety. But… and it was a major but… he still wasn’t sure who she would be willing to sacrifice to ensure Caelin’s safety if she was forced to. Him? Kirkjaster? Herself?
Gemma placed the basket close to the fire and ruffled her son’s hair as he sat down to watch the cubs sleep. She must have sensedhim staring at her because she turned. She was nervous, and he almost regretted that he was the cause of her nervousness. He shivered, thinking how it would feel if she were to care for him the way she had cared for the cubs.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do to thank you and everything I try to do is wrong and makes you hate me more.” She lowered her gaze.
“The only things you need to do are obey my instructions to keep us all safe and get us safely back to Kirkjaster.”
She looked up at him and nodded. “And if something happens when we go back… will you blame me for that?”
