He grinned lecherously. “None as comely as you.” His gaze dropped to her hands. “Don’t be ashamed. Show me what you’re hiding.”
She curled her hands into fists. “Why didn’t you let me drown?”
Moving swiftly, he came off the ground, then caught her in his arms. She melted into him, craving the shelter his body offered; the protection and warmth only a big man could give. At this moment, she’d take anything he’d give to stop the rising pain.
Holding her tight, he said, “Do you know what you put me through? If you attempt anything so stupid again, I’ll punish you, severely.”
She licked her lips nervously. She needed to forget about him and those forbidden kisses that left her feeling the same as after drinking too much wine. Something kept pulling her toward him. An invisible hand that threatened to squeeze all resistance out of her.If your right eye causes you to stumble… She couldn’t stop staring at him. And he knew it.
“I’m sorry.” She trembled. There was no logical explanation for jumping overboard. The need to be free had overwhelmed her.
“Good.” He released her and pointed to a nearby tree. “Your gown is hanging over there.”
She raced for it, then awkwardly pulled the dress over her head. She paused when she heard his strangled voice.
“Odin, slår meg død før denne kvinnen ødelegge meg.”
It sounded so pitiful. She tried to commit those words to memory for future translation.
Chapter Six
Sanctuary
Rachelle had beentrapped in an emotional prison since the day her parents died. With a pain in the back of her throat, she remembered the cursed day and the cruel words that priest had whispered to her. “Sin always catches up with the unrepentant.”
Those words had transformed her. They’d made her distrust men of the cloth and kept her from forming close attachments to people. If the Lord punished her parents for speaking out against the church, what would stop him from smiting others she loved? She wasn’t so young and innocent to not understand what Tyr wanted. If she resisted the attraction, it would be safer for both of them. She knew what she had to do. Happiness lay in the wide-open spaces where she spoke freely to God. Not in the company of men—especially Tyr.
Anchored for over an hour, she stood with Tyr’s crew on shore. She shadowed them across a narrow footbridge, then up a hill. From the pinnacle, she viewed the valley below. Rows of barley and wheat were visible—golden in color—ready for harvesting. Women gleaned in the fields. A herd of sheep drank from a small lake. The river narrowed considerably where they had docked and split into two arteries. The widest one snaked across the land.
Onetooth guarded her like a dog. “Thejarlowns the lands as far as the eye can see.”
Her uncle’s modest estate paled in comparison. Swallowing the bitter reality of Tyr’s immense wealth, she understood what influence and power came with such extensive holdings. This lowered her chances of getting home.
“Beyond the fields,” Onetooth continued, “is the pride of our household women, the greatkálgardr. Our gardens boast some of the largest heads of cabbage you’ll ever see. They also grow horsebeans, onions, peas, and angelica.”
She smiled appreciatively. “Are there flower gardens?”
“I’d forgotten how deeply the English admire flowers,” he said. “Yes, there are many colorful blossoms to enjoy. The sweetest of these grows wild in the forest.Røsslyng.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Heather,” he said.
Holding her hand over her mouth to hide her smile, it surprised her how something so irrelevant could bring joy at a moment like this. It reminded her of home.
After they walked down the hill, they crossed the fields. A massive stone and wood house, nearly three times the size of her home, came into sight. A shiver ran up her arm and down her neck.Not a barbarian.She scrutinized Tyr who stood nearby. A grin softened his exhausted features. Shoving his index fingers in his mouth, he whistled, then jogged ahead alone. Excitement sounded from the fields. People abandoned their work and rushed toward him. A welcoming meant for a beloved figurehead.
The prodigal chieftain was home.
Tyr embraced tenantafter tenant, stopping frequently to twirl children in the air. For over an hour, he grasped the hands and shoulders of dozens of men and kissed the cheeks of women. It had been so long since he’d experienced such comfort. Sadly, itcouldn’t last. Bad tidings hovered above him like a great storm cloud. The news he so carefully guarded ate away at his insides.
Once the initial shock and joy of his return subsided, he faced his house. The comfort of the great hall, food and drink, the warmth of the hearth, and a swarm of women awaited him. But before he reached the outer courtyard, the questions started. They might as well pelt him with rocks. He wanted to provide truthful answers and nearly lost control when some of the women noticed their kinsmen missing.
A youngster started naming off the warriors. “Erik, Jarli, Holmgren, Gunnvor, Trjonn…” He identified all fifty-two men standing nearby. “My brother—Ulfeid—is he still on ship, sir?”
Today, the gods chose to cruelly remind him of the fragility of mankind. Death owned everyone, with a particular fondness for warriors. Men died to glorify Odin, not for selfish kings.Damn the gods…As chieftain, he must disclose everything.
Aaron was suddenly at his ear. “If you don’t tell them,I will.”
