Aevir waited until the blanket fell closed behind her to lean back against the wall. He closed his eyes as he battled the mixture of relief and regret that waged within him. The girl crept under his skin more and more with their every encounter. How was it that she was able to reach inside him and touch a heart that he had kept hidden for years?
As she spoke he could not help but imagine the child she must have been and his heart ached for that small girl. For the woman that child had become without her mother to guide her. He had very fond memories of his own mother. She had been a slave and her life hadn’t been easy, yet even then he couldn’t imagine a scenario in which she would have chosen to leave him behind. His mother had been the one constant in his life on which he could always depend.
Ellan must have been devastated at her mother’s abandonment. In some ways it was worse than death because the woman had chosen to do it, leaving her daughter alone and unloved with a father too bent on vengeance to nurture any affection for her. In fact, it sounded like her mother leaving might have made him exact petty vengeance every day on Ellan.
Sucking in a breath, he carried on with his bathing, scrubbing the cloth over his skin as hard as he could to stop the thoughts and emotions trying to find light within him. Ellan wasn’t his problem. He had found her sister and so his duty to her was over. He would not care that perhaps another threat awaited her. Women were married off by their fathers every day. This Saxon he had found for her might turn out to be a very reasonable fellow.
And Hel’s hound was a gentle and affectionate pup.
With a growl of frustration, he tossed the washcloth across the room to land with a splat against the wall before it fell to the floor. After having nearly scrubbed the entire top layer of his skin off, he decided to test his leg. He wasn’t accustomed to being so sedentary. He kept himself strong with battle and sparring. They both kept his thoughts from meandering down paths that held no benefit to him. The girl was not his and he could not be hers. That was the end of it.
With a groan, he levered himself from the bed just as the front door opened. A blast of cold air swept inside, its icy fingers finding him in the alcove. It fluttered up the blanket he’d draped around his shoulders and reminded him that he desperately needed to find clothes.
The hard tread of a boot across the floor of the main room told him that his visitor was a man. Determined to stand up and greet the warrior with dignity, Aevir held the blanket closed with his lame arm and used his other to hold himself upright against the wall. His injured leg burned and protested, but he ignored the pain. Black spots swirled before his vision. He swayed on his feet and only just managed to catch himself on the bed as he fell back to land with a hard thud. Shaking his head to clear his vision, he managed to set himself to rights as the Jarl entered his alcove.
‘Aevir!’ The Jarl’s voice seemed to fill the entire house. ‘I didn’t think you’d be up. Ellan said you were improving, but I had no idea you were doing so well.’
‘Better, aye.’ Not very well, though. Aevir feared he had more recovery ahead of him than he had initially thought.
As if he read Aevir’s disgruntled expression, Jarl Vidar grinned and dropped to his haunches so as not to tower over him. ‘Recovery takes time. You were near death, my friend, until a determined Saxon wench saved you.’
Aevir couldn’t help his rueful smile. He really should feel more appreciative, and in his kinder moments he did, but he found it difficult to appreciate the close proximity to said wench that his recovery forced on him. ‘I’m aware of that. She told me herself.’
The Jarl laughed. ‘I don’t think humility is one of her virtues.’
Aevir shook his head. Would every conversation he had revolve around Ellan? ‘Tell me of our casualties. Were any men lost?’
The next several moments passed with talk of the wounded and the few who had been killed. That led to updates on the Scots’ movements and Rolfe’s men who had left that morning. ‘There doesn’t seem to be an imminent attack brewing. If Rolfe comes back and tells me that he saw no sign of a group, I’m going to push northwards. We’ll have men ready to move. I expect a messenger to return next week, though I doubt a meeting will be forthcoming without further threats.’
‘You hope to negotiate peace?’
Jarl Vidar shrugged. ‘Of sorts. The Scots have seemed happy to leave us be. I’d like to know why the sudden agitation.’
‘Do you suspect Godric has something to do with that?’
‘I do. He’s certainly an agitator. No Scot in his right mind would pass up the right to claim Banford if it’s promised to him. It would draw their border southwards, taking a bit of Alvey away from us piece by piece. I don’t think Godric planned on his village not coming with him to the Scot side. I’ve been impressed by the loyalty of the bulk of them.’ His gaze went up and down Aevir’s body as if taking stock of his injuries. ‘Particularly his daughters,’ he added.
And they were back to discussing Ellan. ‘You came to discuss her?’
The Jarl nodded and rose to his full height. It was subtle, but somehow his bearing changed from friend to Jarl in the blink of an eye. ‘I did. After you were moved here I had the opportunity to question Ellan about her father.’
A strange premonition came over him, and a genuine worry for her was his only concern. ‘You don’t think she has anything to do with him, do you? Because I can tell you—’
The Jarl shook his head and waved away that fear as he began to pace a shortened path back and forth in the small space. ‘Nay, the girl is true and loyal to us. I have no doubts about that. The issue is something she said.’
The earlier disquiet refused to leave Aevir. ‘What was that?’
‘Her father betrothed her to a Saxon man.’ Jarl Vidar paused, his gaze assessing as it slashed to Aevir.
Aevir nodded. There was no reason to tell the Jarl about her proposal to him.
‘Desmond, a village elder, is insisting that the match go through because the fellow is some relation of his. Ellan has made it known that she opposes this union. She made some mention of wanting to marry a Dane if given her choice. I almost think she had someone in mind. Do you know anything about that?’
Aevir had half-believed that Godric’s match wouldn’t be enforced. But if Desmond had taken the place of the village leader in Godric’s absence, he had every right to insist the betrothal be honoured, especially since the man was a relation.
‘Are you asking if the Dane is me?’ She must have meant him. Henrik hadn’t approached her with his offer until after her discussion with the Jarl.
Jarl Vidar shrugged. ‘Relations are precarious between us and the Saxons, particularly in Banford. You can see how this puts me in a difficult position. I’d like to honour Ellan’s wishes, but I’m not able to disregard Desmond or this Saxon if he decides to make his claim.’ Taking a long slow look at Aevir, he added, ‘Given the way she stormed in and took charge of your care...well, I wondered if something had happened in Alvey between you. Something that made her feel there was some connection.’
Aevir swallowed, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he deliberated on how much to tell the man. He himself didn’t understand what was between him and Ellan, so he didn’t know how to explain it to the Jarl. In the end, he decided to tell him everything.
‘I have made her no promises or declarations, but we have shared a kiss. Otherwise, she is untouched by my hand. Before leaving Alvey, she confessed to me her father’s plan to marry her off and asked if I would be willing to marry her.’ He took a breath as this was the part Jarl Vidar would find issue with, but honesty was his only choice. He wasn’t in the habit of hiding secrets from the man. ‘I told her nay, but offered to make her my concubine instead.’
Fury and disbelief coloured the Jarl’s features. ‘You offered to take an innocent as your concubine?’
Put that way, his offer seemed even more egregious than he had originally thought it to be. ‘It would have helped her and I would have come to you for your agreement had she accepted.’
‘You were told that the sisters are to be left alone, were you not?’
Aevir ground his molars together, unaccustomed to having his actions questioned and being in the wrong. ‘Aye, I was and I understand I went against your wishes. My only defence is that I believed she was worth the risk.’
‘Worth the risk? You went against a direct command.’ The Jarl’s voice was biting.
‘I know.’ His reactions to the girl were irrational at best, dangerous at worst. ‘I will accept whatever punishment you deem suitable.’
Though the Jarl’s brow was furrowed, he no longer appeared furious. ‘Since you didn’t come to me after, I assume she told you nay?’
‘She refused. It seems that she prefers the permanence of marriage.’
‘She’s an intelligent woman.’ The Jarl let out a breath and his brow smoothed. ‘Then you think it was you she meant?’
Aevir nodded. ‘Likely. What did you tell her when she made the claim?’ Aevir couldn’t help himself. He had to know if the Jarl would force her to marry the Saxon.
‘I was non-committal. The truth is I’m not certain she won’t have to follow through with the marriage. However, I wanted to know your feelings on the matter before making up my mind. You’re fine with it moving forward?’
His fists tightened around the blanket before he could stop them. If imagining her with Henrik was bad, thinking of her with a Saxon was worse, especially since she was unwilling. There was a slight waver in his voice when he spoke. ‘The girl should be allowed to marry as she chooses.’
Jarl Vidar nodded. ‘No doubt my wife shares your sentiments. I, however, am forced to consider diplomacy and can’t make that guarantee. There is this, though.’
He began to pace again and Aevir watched him avidly, only just managing not to urge him to continue. Finally, the man said, ‘I overheard one of your men. Henrik, I believe is his name. He was speaking to a friend and mentioned that he’d asked Ellan to marry him. I suppose it was a gesture to save her from the Saxon. He seems a noble warrior and I think he took a fondness to her on the trip here.’
‘The trip here?’ How well had Henrik and Ellan become acquainted?
‘Aye, he accompanied her to Banford. Seems quite taken with her.’
Although Aevir had only heard them and not seen them the night before, he could imagine the deer-eyed boy gazing upon Ellan with admiration and obedience. It made his stomach roll with nausea. ‘Nay.’
The word came out with such force that Jarl Vidar stopped his pacing to look down at Aevir. ‘You object to their marriage?’
‘Henrik is not to marry her. He’s a fine warrior. I need him with me against the Scots, not pining over a new wife he’s left behind.’
‘Many warriors wed and continue to fight.’
‘Not Henrik. He’s still a boy. Give him a few years and I think he could manage it. Marriage now would be bad for him. It would soften his focus, soften his arm, lead him down a bad path.’
The Jarl didn’t smile, but there was amusement in his eyes. ‘You were wed before. You couldn’t have been much older than Henrik.’
He’d been younger than Henrik when he’d wed Sefa. ‘I was a fisherman then, not a warrior.’
Jarl Vidar stared at him, appearing to not believe his reasoning. Finally, he said, ‘You may not have a say, but your resistance to the idea has been heard.’
Aevir couldn’t even begin to comprehend the rush of emotions moving through him. The very idea of Henrik with Ellan set his teeth on edge. In fact, it was the idea of her with anyone else who wasn’t him. Instead of commenting, he changed the subject completely. ‘I’ll be in the hall for the evening meal.’
‘Nay, not tonight. You’re improved, but I need your arm for the potential battle next week. Your orders are to rest. I’ll send a hearty meal over for you. No more pottage and stews. You can join the men in the hall in a few days.’
‘Nay! I must leave here.’ The words were out before he’d even thought about what he was saying. He had to get away from Ellan before she took away even more of his sanity.
Jarl Vidar turned and fixed him with a speculative stare. No doubt he was trying to determine the source of Aevir’s desperation. He didn’t have to wonder long, because Ellan walked right into the alcove, summoned by his raised voice.
She stopped, seeming startled at the quiet that had descended. ‘Is everything all right?’
Jarl Vidar raised a knowing brow, but he seemed to be waiting for Aevir to explain.
‘I was telling the Jarl that I need to leave, to be moved back to my own bed,’ Aevir said.
Her face seemed to pale and when she smiled it was forced and didn’t reach her eyes. ‘You’re not well enough to move. You can’t abandon me yet.’
The way she said those words—that word—tore at him. Despite the fact that he had only stolen a kiss and rudely propositioned her, she found some comfort from him. He had known it the night of Elswyth’s departure in Alvey and he had felt it earlier when she had tended his wound. He didn’t understand it, but that same feeling tugged at him, which is why he was so desperate to flee her. He didn’t want to feel that close to anyone again and hadn’t thought himself capable of it until now. Until her.
But as he stared into the fathomless depths of her green eyes, he found that he could not leave her. He could not abandon her when something as minor as his presence could bring her comfort. So against his better judgement and, indeed, his sanity, he said, ‘Nay, not yet.’
A smile lit her eyes and she nodded before turning on her heel to leave him with the Jarl, who smiled his own knowing grin. ‘She will remain untouched or you will answer to me. We will discuss your punishment after you’re well.’
Aevir gave a curt nod and the man left.