Her Heart's Desire (13 page)

Eoghann swallowed his doubt. His father's title had passed to him and the people here, few as they were, believed he'd handle matters of dispute for them. “My wife...”

“I'll fetch her.” Aethelred grinned through the growth of red beard on his face. “She's welcome around our fire, this bonnie Norsewoman ye brought. We'll show her how the natives live.”

Poorly, though it would be in bad taste to say so. They'd done enough when Blanid forced Aethelred and his children to give up their hut. Refusing to join the man might come as a high insult.

Eoghann shrugged. “I accept your hospitality.”

* * * *

Idunna followed Athelred to a shed with slanting sides and a grass roof.

He threw the door open and called a greeting to the people inside.

She glanced at Fulla, but the baby's head rested on her shoulder, mouth agape, and she was still dead asleep.

She entered the leaning wooden structure. A hole in the roof, like that in Norse homes, let in some cold air, but the fire in the center crackled merrily. Stiff silence reigned over the occupants.

Eoghann sat on a bench near the wall, his face a blank, smooth stone. Blanid perched across from him. She squinted in Idunna's direction.

“Welcome.” Hild, the redheaded woman who'd watched them speak to Aethelred yesterday, waved her closer. In the rosy firelight, she appeared flushed and her eyes glowed. “There's food, my lady. I am happy to serve you.”

“My thanks.” She sat by Eoghann and gave him a fleeting smile. “Is everything well?”

He nodded. “Fulla?”

“Asleep. Exhausted, I think, from traveling.” She adjusted the baby on her shoulder. “Birgir said his mother is tending the ill?”

“She enjoys remaining busy.” His gaze went to Blanid and the lines around his mouth deepened. “Birgir promised to return to her side.”

“I watched him go. He causes no extra trouble. Birgir is a good boy.”

Eoghann accepted a wooden bowl from Hild. “Many thanks.”

“It is no trouble, my lord.” Hild inclined her head. “I am delighted to serve.”

“We are equally pleased to eat. It's been a long journey.” Idunna shifted Fulla to her opposite shoulder. “Your generosity is most kind.”

“How else should we treat the chief?” Hild smiled at Eoghann. “Eat and rest, my lord.” The woman's attention fell on Fulla. “May I hold her while you eat, my lady?”

Would Ealasaid want strangers caring for Fulla? Idunna held the baby a little tighter. “I can manage.”

“Let her hold the child. Free your hands, wife. No harm will come to her here.” Eoghann scooped cooked grain onto a piece of rough bread. “You need to eat.”

She traded the baby for a bowl, but couldn't take her gaze off her charge.

Hild cradled the sleeping child in the crook of her arm. “Such a precious thing. It's been some time since we had one so small in the village.”

“
Vikingr
brat,” Leofric muttered.

“Children are valuable, no matter their blood, boy.” Blanid turned her sour face on him. “Norse or not, we must care for her. You wouldn't leave a child or baby animal of any kind to suffer winter's wrath.”

“I wouldn't drag one half way across Briton to start.” Leofric shoveled the last of his morning meal into his mouth, then set his bowl aside. He slammed the door as he left the hut.

“Foolish boy,” Hild grumbled. She stroked Fulla's face. “In time, he'll become used to the notion of babies. If his stupidity doesn't kill him first.”

“Or pure bad luck.” Aethelred served himself. “The village does nae look like much. It was better last year. We had dry weather and a spark caught the roof of a hut. It took them all before it was through.”

Idunna paused, her bread almost to her mouth. “You lost everything?”

The knot in Aethelred's throat bobbed. “Near about. A few lives as well as any goods we could have traded, tools, food stores, clothing and furs. What ye see is what's left and the best we've been able tae do since then.”

“Bad luck,” Idunna muttered. She didn't trust these people much despite their kinship with her husband, but she hated to see children left nearly homeless.

Eoghann swallowed a bite. “I will help you rebuild as much as I can. I don't know what we can accomplish with the winter so harsh and the lack of materials, but I am willing to try.”

“We're glad tae have you.” Aethelred beamed. “It would be foolish tae turn away any help at this point.”

Idunna turned back to her breakfast. Would they be here long enough to be any help to these people?

“What are your plans, if I may be so bold, Kentigern?” Hild shifted Fulla in her lap. “You came for a purpose, didn't you?”

Eoghann met Idunna's gaze. “Hella's family is in danger. I brought Ealasaid and Birgir here for their safety. I couldn't leave my wife behind. We fled days ago, traveling as fast as we dared with Fulla. It came as a surprise to find people here. I never imagined... We thought Suibhne must be nothing but ruins.”

“But you are staying?” Hild's eyes rounded. “You've come back to lead us again, haven't you?”

“I've no wish to lead anyone. I wouldn't have brought Ealasaid here if Hella hadn't instructed me to find a safe place. Defending her at Solstad would have been easier, but he feared there might be traitors among his people.” Eoghann stared at the hard packed floor. His misery was nearly palpable.

“It was the brave thing, even if it seemed wrong.” Idunna placed her hand on his shoulder. “You followed orders and we arrived here safely. We asked for nothing more.”

The others fell silent.

Blanid's wizened face wrinkled more than before. She looked as though she'd bitten into a rotten apple.

If Eoghann didn't intend to save them, it seemed that the people of Suibhne didn't want him here.

Idunna squeezed his shoulder.
I will always want you, Eoghann. It doesn't matter what they want.

A rapid knock came from outside.

Hild answered the door.

Birgir pushed past her, then fell at Idunna's feet. “Ma's sick. She's asking for you, Aunt Idunna. Please, you've got to come quick.”

Idunna's skin prickled with worry. “Sick? Where is she?”

“In our hut. She needs help.” He tugged at her hands. “Hurry.”

“I'm coming, boy. Calm yourself. Panic won't help her.” She rose. “Forgive me for departing so soon, but my thanks for the invitation to sit with you for a while.”

“Should I come?” Eoghann's brow furrowed.

She shook her head. “If I have need of you, I'll send Birgir.”

“Very well.” But the concern on his face remained.

She took Birgir's hand. “Come along. Perhaps she only ate something that didn't agree with her. The matter may resolve itself soon.”

Behind her cool reassurance, worry gnawed her insides. What if Ealasaid had been poisoned or caught an illness Idunna couldn't cure? Hella would never forgive her if something happened to his wife. Nor would he forgive Eoghann, who was charged with watching over his sister.

Only one way to be sure what she was facing—tending to Ealasaid herself.

Chapter Thirteen

Idunna rubbed Ealasaid's back as the other woman lost the contents of her stomach—mostly bile—into a small clay pot. “I'll make a tea to settle your stomach. You'll feel better in a little while, my friend.”

Ealasaid coughed and shuddered. Her face shined with sweat and her color was alarmingly white.

Idunna pressed the back of her hand to her sister-in-law's forehead. “A low fever.” She dabbed a cool, wet cloth to Ealasaid's clammy skin. “When did you begin feeling ill?”

Ealasaid's eyes drifted shut. “A few hours after we arrived, but I didn't dare tell Eoghann. I couldn't make him worry.”

“You should have sent Birgir for me then. He said you were treating others with your herbs this morning.”

“I hoped if I kept busy, it might pass. It seems to have worsened.” Ealasaid took her hand. “You will take good care of me.”

“I'll take the best care of you. I don't dare do otherwise.” She sorted through the herb sachets Ealasaid had brought. Something to settle her friend's stomach, keep her fever at bay, and help her get some rest was in order.

The hut door opened.

Blanid, framed by the dim light let through by the densely clouded sky, stood there with curiosity on her face. “My lady, I would like to help if I am able. We may have a few remedies you weren't able to bring.”

“Blanid.” Ealasaid smiled. “Your presence is a comfort.”

Idunna ducked her head. Did the old woman think she wasn't capable of caring for an ill person? Had she come because she genuinely cared for Ealasaid, or to criticize the Norse way of healing?

“Your symptoms?” Blanid tapped the floor with her cane as she made her way deeper into the hut.

“Dizziness, upset stomach. I'm dreadfully thirsty, but unable to keep anything down.” Ealasaid had tears in her eyes. “I should be stronger. Hella is counting on me to care for our son.”

“Eoghann will look after him. You concentrate on getting well.” Idunna measured fennel into a small bowl.

Blanid groaned as she lowered herself to the floor beside Ealasaid. “When did you fall ill?”

“Last night. I suppose I'm worn from traveling,” Ealasaid answered.

Blanid snorted. “Some evil eye is turned your way.”

“Doubtful. You're safe from sorcery, Ealasaid.” Perhaps Idunna should have believed in it, but tales of dark magic hardly frightened her. “You'll feel better soon.”

Blanid cupped Ealasaid's face. “Your brother's been away, hasn't he?”

Ealasaid met Idunna's gaze. “Yes.”

“To a village with sickness.” Blanid's brow furrowed. “He's carried a curse with him.”

Idunna's stomach turned. “That is untrue. Eoghann brought no curses or bad luck.”

Blanid turned her sightless eyes on Idunna. “He fairly reeks of it, Norsewoman. Bleakness follows him—and will—until he claims his rightful place in the world.”

Idunna poured hot water over the fennel. “Nonsense.”

“It's nothing,” Ealasaid agreed. “I might have fallen ill from anything.”

“You do not believe me.” Blanid thrust out her chin. “Darkness comes to those who deny their destinies until they put their feet on the correct path.”

Idunna clenched her jaw. She stirred the tea, then passed it to her friend. “Do not fret for Eoghann. He follows his king's orders and that will never lead him wrong.” She'd doubted him, but now that all was forgiven between them, she felt he'd done right, taking them from Solstad. Even if it meant she had to remain among people who disliked her.

“He will never find peace if he continues to run.” Blanid tamped the end of her cane against the floor. “Mark my words.”

Idunna crossed her arms. “I suppose that means he should divorce me and find himself a proper Saxon wife before he produces weak, dimwitted offspring.”

“Please don't argue,” Ealasaid begged.

Blanid's white eyes narrowed as she faced Idunna. “A boy will be born. He will be a man of great bearing among his subjects. Guided by his father's hand, his mother's love, and his siblings' support to high ranks. But only if his father chooses his own paths correctly.”

A chill ran over Idunna's skin. “What do you mean?”

“That boy's future hinges on the Kentigern's decisions.” Blanid shuffled toward the door. “Warn him, Norsewoman, for he will not listen to me.” She opened the door, then hobbled outside.

“Madness,” Idunna muttered. “She's old and out of her mind.”

“If she isn't? If she knows the future?” Ealasaid lifted the tea to her mouth, then drank.

“Are you going to be the one to convince Eoghann that Suibhne and it's people are his destiny? Who will convince Hella that Eoghann should rule it? Nonsense.” Discomfort curled in her chest. “Our son will never be chief of Suibhne. There's no shame in serving the king in his primary settlement.”

“She means well. It must have broken her heart to see her chief dead, his children scattered or killed, and Suibhne razed. It was hard enough to witness the slaughter.” Ealasaid sipped at her tea again. “Hella will help them, if he can. We cannot allow our neighbors to suffer as these people are.”

“I agree. They've suffered much. Now close your eyes and rest. Hella will be here soon and all will be well again.” Idunna took the cup from Ealasaid.

“I will, but send Eoghann to me first.”

Idunna hesitated. “Surely whatever you have to say can wait a while.”

“Please, sister.” Ealasaid squeezed Idunna's hand. “It won't take a moment.”

“A moment only. Then you must sleep or Hella will have my head for not taking care of you. I will find your find your brother.” She tucked the blankets around Ealasaid, then left the hut.

“Idunna.” Eoghann, dark concern written on his face, waited a short distance from the hut. His arms were folded and one hip cocked—the stance of an impatient man.

She crossed to him, hands spread. “I don't know what ails her.” Idunna described the symptoms. “It may run its course in a day or go longer. It's difficult to say. The fever isn't the danger. Keeping water in her is.”

“She's of hardy stock. Give her a little time. I want you to stay with her for now. Hild can care for Fulla. Birgir will stay with me.”

She curled her fingers. “I would prefer to keep Fulla myself.”

“You need to focus your attention on making Ealasaid well. She's the queen.”

“You worry that Hella will be displeased if he learns she fell ill under your watch.”

Eoghann frowned. “She's also my sister. I care for her.”

“I know.” She hung her head. “I mean no insult.”

He caressed her cheek. “Are you well? Birgir says he has no signs of illness.”

“I'm fine. How do you fare?”

“Hale and hearty.” But his frown increased. “Although I fear we may be in danger.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “From who? Why?”

“There were many ill people in Ofan. I worry someone could have followed us. What if Ealasaid is poisoned?”

“Not possible.” Idunna tightened her hands. “We left in the dead of night. No one knows where we went. It's some common malady. We've all eaten the same foods.”

“Except the morning meal.”

A heavy lump formed in her chest. “No, she claims she felt ill last evening. It wasn't this meal that harmed her.”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I know little of poison. Some act quickly. Others draw out the suffering. Do what you can for her.”

“I'm sure she will be well again soon. Please come to me if either of the children or you feel even the slightest bit odd. You promise?” She leaned against him.

He folded his arms around her. “I give you my word.”

“There is something you must know.”

“Aye?”

“Blanid says it's because you're cursed. None of us will fare well if you don't claim your title as kentigern.”

He scoffed. “Daft old woman. She's made predictions her whole life. Only a few have turned out and anyone can offer up a record that good. Some days, yes, it feels as though I've dark clouds hanging over me. Ealasaid's illness is not one of them. Winter is here and sickness is common.”

Relief fluttered through her. “I worried you might believe her.”

“Think nothing of her words, wife. We will weather this as we have everything.”

In his arms, she felt safe and protected. “Tell Birgir not to fear. You may send him to her side a little later. First, she must get some rest.”

“Very well. I'll do my best to keep his mind off his mother and keep him occupied.”

“Ealasaid wishes to speak with you before she sleeps. Do so quickly. And whatever she says, try not to upset her.” Idunna stretched on her toes, then planted a kiss on his lips. “I love her as a sister. I will do everything I am able to make her healthy again.”

“I trust you will.” He kissed her forehead. “She probably wishes to remind me to keep Birgir and Fulla close. I won't stay with her long.” He let go of her, then went into the hut.

Idunna rubbed her temples. Coming to Suibhne had proven to be a bigger trouble than she'd initially feared. If they had remained in Solstad, her confidence in Ealasaid's recovery would have been much higher.

* * * *

Eoghann shut the hut door. The cold wind bit his skin, sloughing away the warmth of the fire from Ealasaid's resting place.

Idunna waited for him. Her cheeks were red from the cold, but the rest of her face was pale. “What did she say?”

He shrugged. “Nothing of importance. She's weary from traveling and the poor fare. Give her a day or two. She'll be herself again. I'm sure of it. I've often seen men fatigued by long travels.”

“It's my great hope.” She toyed with the pin holding her cloak closed. “Is she resting now?”

“Asleep. She misses her husband and that alone is a trial for her.” The tight knot of anxiety in his chest made a nagging reminder that Hella would kill him if Ealasaid died. He'd do worse if he learned she believed Eoghann should reclaim Suibhne and become its ruler. Most likely Eoghann would be subject to torture, death, and dismemberment. Not necessarily in such a neat order.

Hella would never allow treason to stand. Not even from his wife.

“You are distressed.” Idunna touched his arm.

“She's my—”

“Sister, yes, but there's something else.” Her beautiful brown eyes searched his face. “Can I help?”

“I don't believe so. I'm going to collect Birgir and we will have a look around to see what can be salvaged to help the people rebuild. We can't do much during this weather, but we may find some work.”

She nodded. “Take care.”

“I will.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her covered head. “Come for me if she worsens.”

He waited until she'd gone inside to set off in a direction opposite of the hut where he'd left his nephew. Away from Blanid and her ridiculous predictions about his fate. But straight to the fallen, shattered remains of his former hall.

The foundation stood. Good, hard granite cut from the ground and stacked to build the first Kentigern's home. He hadn't known his father's father, but Da had told tales of the man who carved a settlement from the wilderness. Einon Darkmane had fought Romans in his homeland, but had been forced away. His journey had carried him north. When he lay the roots for Suibhne, he vowed never to be homeless again. He'd married a Scottish woman, taken the name Kentigern, which meant chief, and passed it to his son. What terrible ruin his ancestors had come to.

Eoghann lowered himself to one of the crumbling rocks in the wall. Beside him, the massive timbers that had once held up the roof lay splintered and charred. He'd said it before—nothing remained in Suibhne for him. Yet old Blanid refused to give up.

What would I do if I reclaimed the settlement? I desire nothing more than a forge, my wife, and a few children.

A twig snapped behind him. Eoghann turned, sought the source of the noise, but saw nothing in the clearing. His sore shoulder twinged. A reminder of what ruling brought a man—nothing but hardship and other lords seeking to claim what was his. His sword hung heavy at his hip. A bitter reminder that peace wouldn't be found here.

Perhaps it was only attainable in his wife's arms. He rested his head in his hands. Idunna. Worried and rightly so. They'd come seeking refuge, found it, but even he remained wary of the people who claimed to be his father's subjects. So many decisions, so many dangers in the world. Ealasaid's illness affected her mind. When she regained her health, her sense would return. The boy Eoghann had been, who wanted to be an emperor, had vanished long ago.

Leaves rustled behind him.

He rose, spun, then half drew his sword before a large buck hart bolted from the tall, dry grass. It raced across the clearing and disappeared into the scrubby trees.

Something besides him had startled the creature.

He waited, heart pounding, but the area remained silent.

It might only be Leofric, spying, playing games to frighten Eoghann. Or...one of Ofbradh's loyalists, waiting to attack.

He'd alert Aethelred, tell him to keep a close eye on the hut where Ealasaid and Idunna stayed. No harm could come to those he loved.