Read Her Heart's Desire Online

Authors: Allison Merritt

Her Heart's Desire (14 page)

He allowed the sword to slide back to its safe position in the sheath. After a moment's hesitation, he removed it entirely. Carrying it low in front of him, he swept the blade through the grass. Long strands whispered around him as he walked back to the main path.

The time had come to do what he promised. Scout the area, find anything that might help this struggling village survive. Be a leader, though not for long. As the Kentigern's son, it was his duty to help where he could. Hella might be able to do more, if the villagers would allow him. They might balk, depending on whether they believed his intentions to be good or selfish. Eoghann had never imagined himself as the mediator between two peoples who had reason to hate one another. Strange, the positions life sometimes offered. Somewhere, the Norse gods or the Christian one laughed at his plight.

The gray sky mocked his every step with the threat of new snow. But why should he expect anything to come easily?

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Curse the bitter wind and thin walls. Idunna unfolded her knees, then rose. Stiff from sitting on the floor, she paused a moment to stretch. Hours had passed since Eoghann departed. Poor Ealasaid had slept off and on, but now she tossed, restless.

Idunna placed her hand over Ealasaid's forehead. Hot. Much worse than before. A cold chill swept down Idunna's back. They hadn't prepared for illness. The herbs Ealasaid had packed were already stretched too far to be any help for long.

They needed more herbs.

“I'll return in a moment, Ealasaid. I must find your brother.”

Ealasaid murmured and turned her face away.

Idunna threw her cloak around her shoulders, then stepped into the cold, dark night. The stars glowed, silver pricks of light against the velvety black. As out of reach as Solstad.

“Do ye need assistance, milady?” A man came from the shadows, bundled in his cloak. His voice was low, gentle, but startled her nevertheless. “The Kentigern bid me watch over yer dwelling till he was able tae return. I'm Judoc.”

She took a step backward, then cursed herself for her cowardice. “I need my husband.”

“I can escort ye tae him.” Judoc, squatty and square, nodded away from the hut. “He's nae far.”

“I should find him myself.”

“I ken he'd prefer ye didn't wander alone at night. There's nae much tae fear. Too cold for raiders and we've hardly any wolves left, but 'tis easy tae become lost in the night.” He moved away from the hut. “Come along. I reckon the Kentigern's sister is still unwell?”

She swallowed, then nodded. “That's why I need Eoghann. She's a bit worse.”

“Have ye asked Blanid or Hild for medicines?”

“No.” She curled her hands into her cloak. “I don't think Blanid cares for me much.”

He frowned. “I was but a small child when the
vikingrs
came. Father grabbed me and my sister, hauled us tae the woods. In all my days, I do nae think I'll ever forget the smell of burning flesh.”

Nor would the memories of the Battle of Freysteinn leave her mind. “I'm sorry for the troubles Suibhne has faced, but they were not my doing.” She shouldn't have to apologize for it. From the rumors, Ingvar had been a terrible man who delighted in making others suffer.

“I know, milady. Perhaps we won't have to bother Blanid. Hild is as good with herbs as her grandmother. We can get her.” He led her around other huts, then halted before one. After a quick rap, he stepped back.

Hild answered. A small child clung to her skirt. “Aye? Judoc. My lady.” She inclined her head to Idunna. “Wee Fulla is fast asleep.”

“I'm glad she's resting, but I didn't come for her. Ealasaid has not improved. I wondered if you had any vervain?” Idunna bit the inside of her lip.

Hild's face fell. “No, my lady. It didn't fare well this summer. There's little or none in this village.”

“I see.” She squared her shoulders. “But perhaps I could buy some from the Scots?”

Hild's eyes widened. “You can't go there tonight. The ride is too far. I have a bit of yarrow and ginger. That should tide Ealasaid until morning.”

“If I could have it, I would be in your debt, Hild.”

“Come in. I'll fetch it for you.” Hild stepped aside, permitting entrance. “It will only take a moment. There's hot mead if you like.”

“No, I shouldn't delay.” But she was captivated by Fulla, sleeping near the fire in a bundle of blankets. She couldn't resist touching the baby's rosy cheek. While Hild shooed her younger children out of the way, Idunna checked to make sure Fulla was dry and warm enough.

“She's a dear.” Hild offered two pouches of herbs. “Much loved, I gather.”

“By all who meet her.” Idunna hesitated to leave the baby. “Orphaned in the battle of Freysteinn. Ealasaid and I have cared for her every moment since her birth.”

“With a handsome husband like Eoghann, I shouldn't doubt that you'll have one of your own to cuddle soon.” Hild smiled. “How his face softened when you joined us this morning. It must be deep love.”

Idunna hoped her shock didn't show. “It's an unusual arrangement between us.”

“Marriage often is.” Hild shooed her toward the door. “Take care of the Kentigern's sister. She must be in good health when her husband arrives. It's important he knows we welcomed you here. Old rivalries must be cast aside at some point.”

“Indeed.” Idunna clutched the herb pouches. “You have my thanks for the help. And should you need anything, I am happy to assist you.”

“I pray the rest of the night passes easily for you, milady.”

Touched by the other woman's kind words, Idunna smiled. Hild had no reason to like or accept her, but she'd helped regardless. “I shall return to check on Fulla tomorrow. Kiss her good night for me.” She waved as she departed.

Judoc led her back to the hut. “I hope the herbs work. There has been too much tragedy here. Every life is valuable, whether Saxon or Dane.”

She'd been fearful of him at first, caught off guard by his large size, but like Hild, Judoc had been helpful. “Stay warm out here. I could bring you a hot drink if you like once I've prepared the yarrow.”

“Do nae trouble yerself, milady. I'm used tae cold winters. If ye need more assistance, I am here.” He retreated to the shadows again.

Both puzzled and grateful for the help, Idunna entered the hut.

Ealasaid sat up, brow furrowed. “Where are we? Where is Birgir?”

“Shh, shh. You're in Suibhne, remember? Birgir is with your brother. Safe and sound, I promise.” Idunna placed the herbs near the hearth. “You must rest.”

The only color on Ealasaid's face was the bright red apple of her cheeks. “Suibhne is gone. My brothers are dead.” She reached out and clamped her hands around Idunna's wrists. “Where is my son? Has Ingvar hurt him?”

“Oh, Ealasaid.” Idunna's heart ached. “Ingvar is dead. Hella, your husband, has replaced him. Eoghann returned and lives in Solstad Hall. Remember?”

A burst of wind swept through the hut as Eoghann and Birgir stepped in.

Ealasaid's eyes shined with tears. “Birgir. Thank the gods. Come here.” She released Idunna and held out her arms for her son.

The boy didn't hesitate. “What's wrong, Ma?”

“I thought you were gone.” She buried her face in his hair. “I thought Ingvar had taken you.”

“He's dead, Ma. He can't hurt us. You're awfully hot. And supposed to be resting. Da would want me to take care of you.” Birgir drew back. “Can't you make her well again, Aunt Idunna?”

“No better?” Eoghann removed his cloak. “What must we do?”

“I need vervain, but Hild has none. Only yarrow and ginger. It may help, but it isn’t what I want. The herb supply we brought is not enough and there is only so much we can take from Suibhne's people. It’s got to be vervain.”

“The Scots would have it?”

Idunna turned her palms up. “It's two days there and back.”

“By then she might be too far gone for it to help.” Eoghann rubbed his chin. “How do I save my sister?”

Birgir grasped Eoghann's hand. “You have to go. You can't let Ma die.” He looked between Eoghann and Idunna. “She'd do it for either of you. I know it.”

Eoghann frowned. “How can I leave you alone here for that length of time? Hella wouldn't like it.”

Ealasaid shivered beneath the blankets. “Birgir? Where are you?”

The boy let go of Eoghann. “I'm here, Ma. I won't leave you.”

“I will mix the herbs Hild spared, but I don't know if it will be enough.” Idunna drew water from the pot over the fire. “We must hope for the best.”

Eoghann's jaw tightened. “No. I'll go. I have to go. Birgir is correct. Ealasaid, no matter how great the feat seemed, would do it for any of us.”

“But you don't know this road in the dark. There could be any sort of danger out there.” Idunna shuddered. What if he was wounded again—or worse—killed?

“I would not hesitate if it were for you. I can't leave my sister to suffer. Aethelred and the others will look after you.” He cupped her face. “Vervain.”

She threw her arms around him. “Eoghann...”

“Don't fret, wife. Have I not returned to trouble you on another occasion?” His smile was tense, tight with worry. “I will always endeavor to return to you.”

And if one day you fail?
She curled her fingers into his tunic. “Let me go.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “You jest at a time like this?”

“You must keep Ealasaid and Birgir safe. Is that not your task? The one set to you by the king you vowed to serve?”

He grimaced. “Aye.”

“Then...” She rested her gaze on Ealasaid's pale face. “Let me ride for the Scottish village. My life is less important than theirs. If I should fail, at least they will still have you to protect them. Hild can help you tend Ealasaid.”

“Your life is important to
me.
” He held her tighter. “Forget this foolish notion. We are wasting time.”

“Indeed. They need you here. I have knives and a good sense of direction. I can do this, Eoghann. She is my sister too. What do I have in this world but family?”

Birgir watched them with wide eyes.

“If I agree to this, you will use all caution?” Eoghann's body tensed under Idunna's grasp. “Will you protect yourself with every effort?”

“Of course. I'm not a dim-witted child.” She broke free of him. “Time is valuable.”

While she gathered her knives, a bit of food, and a few coins, Eoghann warmed her cloak by the fire.

“I do not like this. I could order one of the others to go.”

“She is like a sister to me. It's my duty as much as yours do help her in any way I can.” Idunna allowed him to drop the cloak over her shoulders. “I will take the swiftest horse in the village.”

“Someone should go with you.” Eoghann fastened the pin through the edges of her cloak. “Judoc, perhaps.”

“He would slow me down. Alone, I can glide down the road as a wraith.” She stretched on her tiptoes to kiss him. “I can do this.”

“I am sure you are more reckless than any woman I've ever met. Except Ealasaid.”

“She would approve of this trek. Don't fear for me.” She slipped her fingers into Eoghann's hair, drew his mouth to hers, and kissed him hard. When she pulled away, she drew in a deep breath. “Steep those herbs. I'll find Aethelred and get a horse. Hild will know what to do for Ealasaid until I return.”

She didn't look back when she walked away from Eoghann. Strange, the feeling of leaving him behind when she’d done nothing but try to anchor him to her side since the judgment that bound them together.

Judoc had gone, clearly dismissed by Eoghann, so Idunna made her way to Hild and Aethelred's dwelling by herself. She knocked and was received by a confused and concerned Hild once again.

“Ye are nae serious, milady. How can ye make such a trip alone?” Aethelred folded his arms. “It's tae dangerous.”

“I have no fear. It's what's right.” She lifted her chin. “Please fetch me a horse.”

“You'll need this.” Hild removed a heavy leather mantel from behind the door. “It will keep you from getting too wet and hold in your body's warmth.”

The mantel weighed her down, but it blocked the worst of the wind. She clutched the gold Eoghann had given her while Aethelred saddled a horse.

He held the horse while she climbed into the saddle.

“There is a quicker way, milady.” Aethelred put his hand on the horse's neck. “Follow the river downstream. There's less cover, but if you go swiftly, it will save hours.”

“I only need follow it? It goes straight to the village?”

“Aye. There's nae much in the way of a path, but ye shouldn't need it if ye stay along the banks.”

“Then that's the road I shall take. Thank you, Aethelred.”

He patted the horse's neck. “It's a long way there yet. Do nae thank me till ye're back, warm and sound.”

“I will see you soon.” She forced a smile, then nudged the horse toward the river.

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

Snow broken by animal tracks glinted under the horse's hooves as the animal carried Idunna along the river's edge. Ice crunched under the animal's feet and covered parts of the river. As a child, she'd often skated on the frozen ponds near her home. The warm memories were ruined by the dire situation.

Her chest burned with every icy breath she took. Despite her mittens, her fingers ached as they curled around the reins. Grateful for the moonlight, she was able to steer the horse around a fallen tree. With only the sounds of the horse's breathing, her own rushing blood, and the thud of hoof on hard ground, she followed the river and the stars.

As the horse tired, its steps became more uncertain and it tripped often. Dawn announced itself with pink streaks, and Idunna drew her mount to a stop near a rocky overhang out of the wind. Her legs were tired and sore from holding on, her body stiff from the cold. The poor horse couldn't feel much better.

He pulled toward the river for a drink, but she held him tightly and led him in circles until his breathing became more even.

“You'll make yourself ill, then we'll both be in trouble. I've no wish to kill you.” She stroked his jaw. Compared to her height, the horse was a giant. How she'd ever get back on him by herself remained to be seen. She'd need a rock or tree stump to get herself in the saddle again. What she longed for most was a fire.

When the horse had settled enough to get a drink, she kneeled at his side on the river bank. Slushy snow came nearly to the tops of her shoes. The hem of her dress was caked with mud and grime.

The horse shook its head when it finished drinking. Idunna led it from the river to a flat spot. Whether there was danger of anyone finding her or not, she needed a fire and a few hours' rest.

She hobbled the horse and left him to search for anything edible beneath the snow or the few remaining withered leaves left on the trees. After a struggle, she managed to strike a spark from the flint onto a few scraps of tree bark and wisps of grass. The tiny flame lapped at the kindling and grew, though it was no roaring fire. Idunna rubbed her red hands together in front of it.

How had they come to this? Hella fighting in Ofan, Eoghann and Ealasaid in their old home, and her, so far from anything she knew, on her own in a strange land.
Gods, get us all safely back to Solstad.
She bowed her head and closed her heavy eyelids.

Her courage, small as it was, came from knowing Eoghann waited for her return and that Hella and Birgir would suffer devastation if anything happened to Ealasaid.

She opened her eyes and grimaced as snow began to fall. “We'll make it, won't we, Vaskr?”

The horse barely twitched an ear toward her. Perhaps calling him
brave
would help see her through.

She added a few sticks to the fire, then hugged her knees tight to her body and leaned against the bluff wall. The rippling sounds of water soothed her, although her skin prickled with the cold.
An hour. Just an hour of rest and I'll go again. Vaskr will appreciate the leisure time.

* * * *

An hour's rest was little to go on, but the men who fought under Hella's banners scarcely rested while on the march. Good, strong Norsemen would never admit to weakness. She came from hardy stock and managed to ignore most of the little pains that plagued her. As dark fell again, she thought she caught a whiff of smoke. The river wound through a stand of trees that forced her to dismount and led Vaskr. Every step brought her closer, yet she'd never felt so far from any place. Out here in the wild, she might be lost forever.

Follow the river, Aethelred urged. It might have been better if she'd simply taken a small boat and let it carry her. Brambles and limbs yanked at her clothes. Wearing either of her hoods became impossible and the branches tugged her hair. Almost as though the forest didn't want her to get to Dawerk.

Vaskr drew up, ears raised and body tense. He trembled as he blew out a breath.

Somewhere north of them, a wolf howled.

The fine hairs on Idunna's skin rose. “Oh no.” Judoc had said hardly any remained, but she'd heard men talking of a few that attacked the sheep. They might find a lone human and a horse easy prey. She tapped Vaskr on the neck with the reins. “Come on. We shouldn't linger.”

She doubled her steps and the horse followed along, but his ears twitched and he looked around as though expecting a visitor. When the trees gave way to rolling snow with only a few bushes, she breathed with relief. At least if something came for them, she might see it, instead of suffering an unpleasant surprise.

With a struggle, she made her way onto Vaskr's back. “Go!” She nudged him with her heels.

He broke into a run that nearly unseated her. Idunna stripped one of her mittens away and it was lost to the wind, but she was able to tangle her hand in Vasker's dark mane. She leaned over his neck and prayed he wasn't leading a wolf on a deadly chase. Worried he would wear himself out, she tried to pull the reins, to slow him, but he refused.

Perhaps taking the swiftest horse in Suibhne hadn't been her best idea. The wind whipped her hair about her face and made her eyes burn. Several minutes passed before Vaskr slowed his pace. Heart in her throat, Idunna murmured to him.

“There now. Was it so frightening in there? What upset you so, silly horse?”

He snorted and panted while he danced in a circle.

Idunna bit her lip. She had no way to light a torch to guide the way. The moon would have to do. “Rest a moment, Vaskr. You have hardly lived up to your name this night, but I won't hold it against you. For all I know, you carried us away from real danger.”

She waited until he seemed calmer before turning back to the river. They had gained a little ground with his flight. Thank the gods he hadn't hurt himself as he fled in terror. And that she'd managed to hang on.

“No more running. Not until we're nearly back to Suibhne, all right, boy?” She patted his shoulder.

The hours passed slowly as Vaskr picked a path along the bank. Idunna tried to watch for danger, but her eyelids drooped the farther she rode. Her fingers and nose were so cold, they ached.
When I reach Suibhne again, I'll sit by the fire and sleep for a sennight.

Dawn came again, pearly gray. Dark smoke rose against it. Dawerk was within reach, at last. She managed to straighten, stretching her stiff back.

“Good boy. Good, brave horse.”

When she rode into the village, few people lingered outside. They watched her with wary eyes.

She drew Vaskr to a stop in front of a pair of men. “I need the healer.”

One of them pointed. “Three houses down.”

“Many thanks.” Her voice was rough from the cold.

When she reached the sturdy wooden building, she slid down from Vaskr's back. Her legs trembled as she touched the frozen earth. Stiff and shivering, she knocked on the door, then waited, hugging herself.

The door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman. “Who are ye?” Her green eyes roamed over Idunna's dirty clothing.

“I need vervain. I have money.” She fumbled with the pouch of coins tied inside her cloak. “Vervain and a few other herbs. My friend is ill.”

“Ye do nae look so well yerself.” The woman stepped back and opened the door wider. “Enter.”

The pungent scent of dried herbs hung in the air. Warmth enveloped Idunna the moment the healer closed the door. She coughed at the changed in temperature. “Can you help me?”

“Aye, I have the vervain. What else do ye need?” She gestured for Idunna to follow her to a hearth. “Come sit. Ye appear worn. Warm yerself by the fire.”

“I can't linger. My friend needs medicine quickly.” Her teeth chattered. “The ride is long.”

“So it seems. Yer horse is exhausted even if ye claim ye're not.” The woman studied her. “Ye're a Dane.”

Idunna nodded as she sank onto a stool near the fire. “From Jutland, though I came to Northumbria with my first husband a few years ago.”

“Ye passed through a while ago with the man who carried the big sword. With another woman and a boy. I remember ye.” The woman added a big stick of wood to the fire. “I'm Maigread. So ye've come from far away to occupy Suibhne.”

Idunna pinched her lips together.

“The man had the look of a Kentigern about him. Cairbre, he threw some powerfully handsome offspring.” Maigread went to a shelf on the wall and began removing pots. “Rumor has them all dead.”

Idunna stared at the fire.

“Not one for gossip. Very well.” Maigread scooped herbs into small leather pouches. “Vervain. Horse-heal. Valerian. Coltsfoot. All good for most of the illnesses plaguing us this time of year. Is there anything else ye need?”

Idunna shook her head. “I think that will do.”

On the floor, ice melted from her skirt into small puddles. Her hands warmed and ached more fiercely. She hated to leave the fireside.

“Have something tae eat and a warm drink. Do nae rush back intae winter's grip without minding yer own needs first.”

Her stomach grumbled loudly. “I shouldn't.”

“Ye're no good on the road if ye freeze.” Maigread took a bowl from the shelf, then dipped stew from a pot near the fire. She shoved the bowl at Idunna. “Here. I cannae stand tae see a pitiful creature suffer.”

“I'm not pitiful.” Insulted, Idunna curled her hands. “Pity does not become a Norsewoman.”

“Swallow yer pride with a spoonful of stew.” Maigread huffed a strand of hair away from her face. “Take it, girl.”

She grabbed the bowl. “Thank you,” she muttered.

Maigread prepared tea in a metal cup. “The Kentigern is yer husband, I'm guessing.”

Idunna swallowed a spoonful of stew. “Aye.”

“Handsome man.” Maigread's mouth twisted into a smile. “Tell him that he and his kin are welcome here any time. No matter what ye need, we are with ye.”

Stunned, Idunna almost choked on her stew.

“His mother was my eldest sister, Isolde. Cairbre swept her off her feet when she was a lass. Took her to Suibhne, gave her all she wanted, which included a swarm of little ones, and made her a happy woman. Till she died in childbirth.” Maigread twisted a lock of dark blonde hair around her finger. “Poor Isolde. Nae that Cairbre met a gentle end either. In a way, I'm glad she did nae see the destruction of her home and loved ones.”

“Eoghann doesn't know about you. Doesn't know he has other relatives.” Idunna dropped her spoon back into the bowl. Her stomach twisted. He'd searched so long for a place to belong. If not for Diarmaid, perhaps her husband might have found caring family in Dawerk.

“Ye must bring him when ye've time. Promise?” Maigread smiled wistfully. “Perhaps after the weather turns for the better. I've nae seen him since he was a wee thing. Artair, Diarmaid, Keavy, the twins. It was so long ago.”

Idunna didn't have the heart to admit the others were dead or missing. “I'm sure he would enjoy a visit.”

“I'll pack ye some food. Eat up. Ye need the strength tae make it back tae him.” Maigread turned away and busied herself with laying out a cheese cloth.

Idunna cleaned her bowl, then drained the tea. Exhaustion plagued her, begged her to close her eyes and rest in front of the fire a while.

“Go on, then. Ye cannae ride if ye cannae stay awake.” Maigread nudged Idunna. She offered a blanket. “Lie down before the fire and take some rest. Surely an hour or two will nae hurt yer mission. Ye came by the river, did ye nae?”

Idunna managed a nod.

“It saved ye some time. Now rest.”

Forgive me, Ealasaid. Please hold on.
Idunna took the blanket. She stood still as Maigread removed her cloak. She stretched out and no more than tucked her arm beneath her head than she drifted off.

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