Page 110 of The Outlaw Viking

Ella’s face grew pink. “Well, and what if I did? I got tired of waitin’ fer you to fulfill yer promises.”

“I said I would put in a good word for you, not deliver him on a silver platter.”

“I will take him without the silver platter, thank you very much!”

“When you two wenches are done bickering, could we get our business completed so we can get back to that madhouse afore dark?”

They spent an hour picking out lengths of warm wool fabric for the children’s tunics and mantles, linen for tiny chemises and loincloths, yarn to be knitted into hose, and even some fine silk from Damascus that Selik insisted be made into garments for Rain. Ella also agreed to have a nearby leather worker make up a dozen pairs of children’s shoes. They would all be delivered in a few days.

“And who is goin’ to be payin’ fer all these goods?” Ella asked craftily.

“I will,” Selik said, without question, and pulled out his almost depleted sack of coins. “By the by,” he said, stopping in his counting out of the money, “did you ever pay Rain the money you were holding for her mother when she left unexpectedly?”

Ella’s face turned bright red and she shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“You see, Ruby invested money in a business Ella started years ago,” Selik explained to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “No doubt Ella forgot to give it to you.”

Rain turned to Ella. “Is that so?”

“Yea, well, ’twas a small amount. About—”

“One hundred mancuses, at least,” Selik finished.

Ella sputtered with indignation. “Nay, ’twas more like fifty.”

“Well, I’m sure you will give it to Rain as soon as possible,” he added, patting her hand indulgently.

Ella shrugged his hand away with chagrin, telling him not to rush back. She could do without his kind of business, the coins he had handed her being far less than the fifty mancuses she would have to give Rain now.

Rain and Selik were both laughing as they left the shop. Rain wished time could stand still just then, that they could stay as happy and carefree as they were at that moment.

But their peace was shattered immediately with the emergence of Gorm from a nearby alley. He motioned them off the city street, and they followed him into the doorway of an abandoned building.

“Eirik sent word from Athelstan’s court at Winchester. Steven is in Frankland, visiting his Uncle Geoffrey in Rheams.”

Selik nodded grimly.

“Oswald and his soldiers patrol Jorvik like bloody scavengers, killing and maiming any who even resemble Danish men of fighting age. We should leave Northumbria with haste. ’Tis only a matter of time afore they discover yer whereabouts.”

“Yea,” Selik agreed, and Rain’s heart dropped to her toes. “Meet me tomorrow night with as many of my men as are willing to risk their fortunes with me. Come to the farmstead, and we will leave from there.”

“On horseback?”

“Yea, bring Fury with you.”

When Gorm left, Selik turned to Rain and put a fingertip to her face, wiping the tears that seeped from her eyes. “Shh, dearling,” he said softly, taking her into his arms, “you knew ’twas only a matter of time.”

“But it’s too soon,” she cried. “It’s too soon.”

Chapter Seventeen

The sun dropped below the hills and the autumn wind picked up as they walked back to his homestead, a dreary backdrop to the silence that formed a rigid barrier between Selik and Rain. Ever since they left Jorvik, Rain had avoided his eyes. As if he could not see her tears!

A frigid blast of air stirred the dry leaves under their feet, and Rain shivered. Despite their wool mantles, the coming winter seeped beneath their monkish garments, reminding them of the pending change of seasons.

Where will I be come Christmas? In truth, where will I be next sennight? And how will I survive now that I have known Rain?

The chattering of her teeth jarred him from his deep thoughts, and he pulled her under his mantle, despite her rigid shoulders. He should have bought her a fur-lined cloak in Jorvik. Now there would be no time. He should have done many things, now that he thought on it, but as had happened so often in his life, opportunities slipped through his fingertips like sand, sealing his fate.