He said her name so gently she almost didn’t hear him.
“When we get back to Kirkjaster, you can speak to Tormod. Tell him what you want, then I promise I will take you to the safest place for you and your son.”
“The safest place according to whom?”
“Tormod is my jarl. I will abide by his decision, but you will get a chance to plead your case to him. To explain to him your way of thinking.”
“And what if I disagree with his decision?”
Arne sighed. “Would you disagree with your king? Would you have disagreed with your husband?”
“Yes.”
He raised his eyebrows at her and she made a face.
“But you’re right. In the end it wouldn’t matter whether I agreed or not. It would always get to the point where I would simply have to do as I was told… or suffer the consequences.” She sighed.
“What is the worst thing that could happen?”
She looked down at the chopping board in front of her. “The worst thing would be for me to lose…” she pointed down to where Caelin sat under the table.
Arne nodded. “I understand. Tormod will understand too. And what is it you do want?”
“I don’t know. To be able to simply live our lives without worry. Is that too much to ask? There has been so much turmoil. When will it end? I just want to get away from it all. But…” She laughed bitterly.
“We can’t control everything, even if we want to.”
“Would he help me travel north?”
“If that is what he thinks is best, he can make arrangements for you. Safe arrangements.”
She blinked at Arne. “He could? And you would agree?”
She stopped chopping, but didn’t put down the knife. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Until we get back to Kirkjaster and speak to Tormod, there is nothing to be done, no decisions to be made. Think of these days as a respite from your cares.”
She glanced up at him. “As a mother there is never any respite.”
“Then think of it as a time when your responsibilities are shared. I will protect you and Caelin and ensure you are brought safely back to Kirkjaster.”
He agreed to keep an eye on Caelin while she finished cooking. After setting aside the liquid from the boiled oats and adding the meat and vegetables, she stirred it, hoping she had gauged the balance of ingredients correctly.
“Is the food ready yet, Mama? The cubs are hungry.”
“Here, try them with this.” She crouched down beside him with the jug of oat milk. The cubs’ little mouths were rooting for their mother, their heads butting against the blanket, and sometimes Caelin’s hand, trying to find milk.
She understood how Caelin could not have simply left them. She looked up and caught Arne’s gaze on them too, a soft smile hovering around his lips. Despite the difficulties in reading his expressions, that one was clear, and it gave her hope that a man who cared as much for the tiny creatures could even find it in his heart to keep her safe. After all, the cubs had the same potential to kill him as he seemed to believe she and Caelin had, even if they were not yet capable of it. She just prayed he would not use his knowledge of how Caelin found the wolf cubs against them.
Arne crouched down beside the fire.
“Look, Caelin,” he said and dipped his finger into the oat milk. She stood up, leaving the two of them to deal with the cubs while she ensured the broth didn’t burn.
She hummed quietly as she worked, listening to their low murmurs and her son’s giggles as the cubs’ rough tongues licked his fingers.
Carefully she spooned broth into a bowl and, after blowing on it, tasted it. A couple of sips and she knew she had cooked worse even if it couldn’t compare to Ragna’s. She filled two other bowls then took the last of the bread she had brought with her from where it had been warming by the fire and placed everything on the table.
“When you’re ready,” she said to the others and sat down to eat. Arne came and sat, picking up his spoon and eating right away. One improvement in their relationship then, if he no longer thought she was trying to poison him.
