The Viking's Witch (18 page)

Rothgar swallowed the last bit of mead in his drinking horn, then slammed it to the table. From the moment he’d landed on Strjonsey, nothing had gone right. He was a miserable failure and a pathetic waste of a man.

A noise on the staircase caught his attention, and he turned in time to see Odaria come down the steps. Her hair was tangled, and she looked like she’d just woken up.

“What are you doing down here? It is late. You ought to be in bed.”

“I slept for hours after you left. Where did you go?” She sat in a chair next to him and glanced at the nearly empty pitcher of mead. “What are you doing sitting here alone in the dark?”

“What does it look like? I’m getting good and
drucken
.” He refilled the drinking horn and took a healthy gulp of mead.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Everything.” He banged his fist on the table. Odaria’s eyes widened, and he immediately regretted the violent action. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …” He ran his hand across his face and rubbed his beard. He didn’t want to start an argument with Odaria. She was the only light in his miserable life.

Why was his world filled with nothing but troubles? The trip to the ruined village had been a waste of time. He’d spent two hours searching that foul place. And for what? Orvind wasn’t there. They had discovered the bodies of nine dead Norsemen, bits of hack silver, and a dagger. After exploring the village and the surrounding area, they had dug a mass grave with their swords and buried the men properly.

To make matters worse, Karnik had been waiting for him when he’d returned earlier this evening. Once again, they’d gotten into another heated discussion about their stay here. His men grew more restless every hour and longed for the sea and new adventures.

“Karnik and his men are sailing to Vestrey tomorrow, to raid,” he said. “Upon their return, they will hold a victory celebration.”

Odaria nodded, and he continued.

“After what happened today, Karnik’s men fear you, and they resent me for making them search for Orvind. The few men I trusted have been poisoned by Karnik’s talk of leaving to find gold and treasures. Even Sig and Haraldur are eager to sail off. To them, I’m nothing but a fool who has been entranced into staying here with you.” He poured more mead into his drinking horn. “I’ve failed again.”

“Why do you keep saying that? What happened when you left this afternoon?”

“We went to an abandoned village to search for Orvind. But it was for naught.”

“Why? Was there nothing to be found?”

“
Neinn
, little witch. We found death and ghosts everywhere. It is a good thing you stayed behind. You would have been ill if you had seen the bodies piled up.” He let out a long breath. “Orvind was not there. He’s not anywhere. Any idiot can see that this is a hopeless quest.”

“But you canna give up. What about Orvind? He’s out there somewhere waiting to be rescued. Force Brennan to tell you where—”

“You said yourself that Brennan is a liar. Even if he knows where Orvind is, do you think he’ll tell me? I’ve searched everywhere. Orvind might be dead and floating in the sea for all I know. I never wanted to come here, and now I’ll be heading home in shame, as a useless disgrace.”

He finished his mead and poured himself another. Getting drunk wouldn’t solve his problems, but at least he’d be able to sleep and not be haunted with terrible dreams tonight.

Odaria rested her hand on his arm as he brought the horn to his mouth. “That doesna sound like you, Rothgar. You do not give up.”

“Well, I have. I’m tired of fighting. I’m not the man I used to be.” He sighed and leaned back in the chair. “I once was a fierce and respected warrior, bold in deed and word, much like you were today,” he said as he offered the drinking horn to her.

Odaria took a small sip of mead and handed the horn back to him.

“At home, I’m a powerful
jarl
.” He noticed her puzzled expression and explained. “A wealthy landowner and farmer. I’m on the king’s retainer and council. I collect his fines and dues and fight for him whenever and wherever he says. He sent me here to find Orvind.”

He sipped more mead and wiped his beard as some of the golden liquid dribbled down his chin. “Now I must sail home and report not only that Karnik’s have men betrayed me but that I’ve failed in my mission.”

Odaria covered his hand with hers and gazed into his eyes. From the way she looked at him, he knew she was smitten. She was sweet, yet she had a fighting spirit that he admired greatly. He’d never met another woman like her. Perhaps the gods had sent him here to find Odaria instead of Orvind.

“Why not put the drink down and come upstairs? You have had a long day, and a good night’s rest will—”

“I will not sleep a wink. My dreams will be plagued.”

Odaria scowled. “How do you know?”

“They always are when I dig graves.”

Odaria gasped and sat back in the chair. “Rothgar, must we speak of today’s tragedy? I wish to—”

“I was not referring to Chester,” he muttered, then swallowed another swig of mead. Right now, he didn’t care that it tasted too warm and bitter. If he drank enough, he would fall into a blissful stupor and not dream.

He glanced at Odaria and frowned. Should he tell her? Probably. After all they’d been through together, she deserved to know about his past.

“Three years ago, I dug a similar grave … for my son.”

“Your son?” She gasped. “You’re married?”

“I was. She died as well. Rurik was merely three months of age when I placed him in the ground.”

Odaria stood and walked behind him. She draped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight. “I’m so sorry. How did it happen?” she whispered in his ear.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I killed them.”

Chapter Nine

“What?” Odaria pulled away. “I canna believe that. You wouldn’t do such a thing.”

He spun in the chair so he could face her. “I did not start the fire that killed them, but it was my fault. The gods took them from me as punishment.”

“For what? What terrible deed could you have done?”

“
Sitja
and I will tell you of it.”

He took another drink for courage. The memories flooded over him. The smoke, the burnt smell of wood in the air, the feel of Rurik’s tiny, stiff body cradled in his arms …

“I went away,
fara-i-viking
. Gretta begged me not to go, but I refused to listen. I had been inside for two long winter months with her and Rurik. I wished to get away for a while and have space.” He bowed his head. How could he so easily admit the shameful feelings he’d had toward his wife and only son?

“We sailed to
Mikligardr
—”

“Where is that? I have never heard of it.”

“It is a place far away. The weather is scorching hot, and everything is covered with sand.” He licked his lips. “They have many open-air markets there, where one can purchase anything. While I was out for a walk, I met a girl. She wore brightly colored thin silk veils and nothing more. She was quite enticing.” He trailed his fingers over the rim of his drinking horn. “I spent the afternoon with her.”

“Doing what?”

He glanced at Odaria and arched an eyebrow. Was she that innocent? “Being unfaithful to my wife, who waited for me at home with my newborn son,” he growled. “I was weak and broke my vows.”

Odaria looked down. “Oh, I see.”

“It was the only time in our six years of marriage,” he explained in a rush. “Gretta was unable to have … intimate relations … for two months before Rurik came and then after … It was no excuse, but I ached for a woman.”

Odaria nodded. “I’ve heard that men have certain needs.”

He emptied his drinking horn and set it down on the table. His head started to buzz, and his tongue felt numb and heavy. By Thor, he was drunker than he’d realized.

“After I left the girl, I was overcome with remorse. I went through the market, buying up gifts—necklaces, rings, gold, jewels, silks, carpets, anything I could lay my hands on to give to Gretta. I thought if I gave her treasures, it would make up for what I’d done.” He bit his bottom lip and swallowed hard as tears welled. “I returned home the morning after the fire. It was then that I learned Gretta and Rurik were dead.”

He paused and swallowed the lump in his throat. “So you can see why today reminded me of my loss. The burned cottage, the small shroud-wrapped body, the grave … I dug Rurik’s grave and wept like a woman for him. The men in the village had to drag me away.”

Too ashamed to look at Odaria, he gazed down at his hands. What would she think of him after what he’d just confessed?

“I took what I had for granted, and the gods snatched it away from me. I swear on my soul that I will never make that mistake again. That was the last journey I took, until I came here. I lost everything I loved, and for what? A few hours of pleasure in the arms of a woman whose name I cannot recall?” He shook his head.

“But the gods were not finished with my punishment. The woman at the market was the last woman I have been able to make relations with. For three years, my manhood’s lain useless and flat.”
“’Tis not true. I’ve felt your hardness against—”

“
Ja
, now.” He looked at Odaria and smiled. “Somehow, my little witch, you have cured me. The moment I dragged you into the cookroom that first night, I felt the sword between my legs stir to life. You have awakened it again. Perhaps it was your innocence or your magic powers, but it was something about
you
, Odaria, that cured me. I’ve tried to lie with other women, but nothing ever happened.”

Odaria rolled her eyes. “Rothgar, you are drunk and have no sense of what you are rambling on about.” She clasped his biceps. “Come upstairs and rest. ’Tis late.”

“
Neinn
.” He yanked his arm from her grip. “Not tonight. She will be waiting for me the moment I fall asleep.”

“Who shall be waiting? You speak in riddles.”

“Gretta. She haunts me.” He looked at Odaria. “Are the dead truly watching over us, or am I mad with guilt? Sometimes I feel Gretta nearby. Late at night I can sense her, and when I fall asleep, she comes to me in my dreams holding Rurik at her breast. It is maddening. Over the years I’ve learned that when I drink enough, the liquor keeps her at bay. I pass into sleep and dream of nothing.”

Odaria placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “What does she say? Tell me what happens in your dreams.”

He sighed. He hadn’t intended to confess this to Odaria, but the mead had loosened his tongue. “Each night is always the same. She calls to me and tells me that Rurik is with her. She says she loves me. Why won’t she leave me alone? Three years have passed. When will this torture end?”

He bowed his head. “If I could go back and change what happened, I would. I’d give my life for theirs in an instant. If only I had listened to Gretta and had never gone on that trip, none of this would have happened. Doesn’t she know how sorry I am?” He pressed his eyes shut and fought back the tears threatening to spill over.

A second later, he felt Odaria’s cool fingers massaging his aching neck and shoulders. “Let it out. It will be all right.”

He relaxed as she rubbed his stiff muscles. Her touch was stirring yet comforting.

“She is not haunting you. She is trying to tell you that she has your son with her and that she’s keeping him safe. She’s taking care of him on the other side. He’s not alone.”

“You are certain?”

“Aye. Would you doubt the word of a witch? I deal in dreams. The dead find it easier to speak to us while we are asleep. Your wife wants you to know that they are in a better place, and ’tis time you let her go. Holding on to the guilt is what keeps her coming back to you at night. The next time she visits, tell her you understand and that you love them both and want them to move on.”

“Will it work?”

She nodded. “It may take a few tries for her to hear you, but she will listen.” Odaria kissed his cheek. “And you, my brave Norseman, are not a failure. You took care of Chester and me today. You are a good man … but one who’s had too much drink. Now come to bed,” she said, tugging on his arm.

“I can’t. I ache to be with you more than anything, but I’m drunk and I won’t function properly. I do not wish to disappoint you on your first time.”

To his surprise, she burst out laughing.

“Ye think I’m trying to get you upstairs so we can …” She giggled. “I’m flattered, but you are exhausted, and ’tis awful late. Mayhap tomorrow night we can finish what you started this afternoon.” She flashed him a mischievous smile. “But you need to sleep. You don’t want Karnik’s men coming in here at dawn and finding you slumped over the table, drunk to the world.”

“
Ja
, true. I’ve had more than enough dealings with Karnik today.” As he rose to his feet, he lost his balance and clutched the edge of the table for support. “Blessed Odin, I’ve swigged down too much
bjorr
.”

“No matter. I shall tend to you.”

He let Odaria take his hand and lead him upstairs. When he stumbled into the sleeping chamber, he flopped on the bed. Odaria yanked off his boots, and he rolled onto his side. She climbed into bed next to him and covered him with the blanket.

“Odaria, you must know—”

“You can tell me in the morn. Rest now.” She kissed his cheek and smoothed his hair away from his face. “Now go to sleep and dream of pleasant things.”

The room swirled as blackness closed in around him.

Odaria flipped onto her back and sighed. She’d been tossing and turning for hours, wide awake, and forced to listen to Rothgar’s drunken snores—throaty growls loud enough to wake the dead.

She stared at the wide-beamed ceiling. There was no point in trying to sleep. Even if Rothgar quieted down, she wouldn’t rest much. After venting her rage at the villagers, she’d slept away most of the evening. She never needed much sleep at night, anyway. When she was left to follow her own pattern, she often stayed up until the wee hours of the night and then napped during the day.

Quietly, so not to waken the noisy giant, she pulled back the bedclothes and slipped out of bed. She carried her boots as she opened the door and crept downstairs. A walk in the cool night air was just what she needed to settle her thoughts. The sun would not rise for hours, but the nearly full moon would give her plenty of light to see by.

She took a wedge of cheese from the cookroom and went outside. The midnight-blue sky was clear, and thousands of stars twinkled overhead. She inhaled the crisp air and listened to the deathly silence of the village surrounding her. Everyone else was sound asleep.

She walked to the front of the gathering hall and sat on a stone near the wall. Finally, she had some time to herself. She ate her cheese and stared at the moon as her mind wandered.

How could so much have happened to her in such a short amount of time? Her world had been flipped upside down. It seemed as if a lifetime had passed since the night she’d first met Rothgar.

Had the gods conspired to bring them together? If Rothgar hadn’t come here looking for Orvind and rescued her when he did, what would have happened to her? To think, three days ago she didn’t even know him, and now she had fallen in love with him.

She heard a twig snap to her left and spun toward the sound. A cloud passed over the moon, blanketing her in darkness. What had made that noise? She heard nothing. After a minute, she shrugged it off. An animal was probably prowling through the village looking for scraps from the cook fires. Poor Rothgar, he’d had so much tragedy in his life. His drunken confession had shocked her more than she let him know. To think that he’d been married and sired a son! What color was Gretta’s hair? Was she pretty? Had she known secret tricks to satisfy Rothgar during lovemaking?

Although she had a hundred questions she longed to ask him, she had thought better of it. Rothgar was in no mood to answer prying inquiries tonight. He must have loved Gretta deeply if he still mourned for her after three years. Did Rothgar wish he had Gretta beside him in bed, instead of her? She frowned. How could she compare with Gretta? Gretta had given Rothgar a son, and all she’d done for him was cook meals. Granted, she was a good cook and a fair housekeeper, but she didn’t understand Rothgar’s language or his customs. What would happen to her when Rothgar brought her home with him? She didn’t want to appear ignorant to the people in his village. Would they accept her or shun her?

Another noise to her left interrupted her thoughts. Whatever had made that sound was too large to be an animal. Her heart beat faster, and her skin prickled. She was not alone. Someone else was out here with her, lurking in the darkness.

She rose and looked for a stick or a rock to defend herself with, finding nothing. “I kin hear you,” she said, forcing her voice to sound strong. “Show yourself, coward.”

In a flash, a filthy hand clamped over her mouth. Someone grabbed her from behind and forced her to the ground. A heavy weight landed on top of her. She looked up and saw one of Karnik’s men in the shadowy moonlight. She hit his face and tried to scream, but it was no use. Her attacker was strong—and determined.

She kicked and fought wildly as she spotted someone looming over the man astride her. He held a large rock in his hands. Did they mean to bash in her head and take advantage of her while she lay helpless? She stared in horror as the second man came closer, raised the stone, and slammed it down on the other man’s skull.

The man on top of her slumped over and lay still. She shoved him away and scrambled to her feet, dazed but ready to fight. To her surprise, the man dropped the rock. As the moon came out from behind a cloud, she saw her rescuer’s features clearly. Although she’d only met him once, there was no mistaking who had saved her.

“Nordskog?”

He nodded, then spoke and pointed at the man lying on the ground. Was he dead? Probably. She glanced at Nordskog.

Rothgar had warned her that Nordskog was a vicious killer, but she hadn’t believed he was capable of doing such a thing until now. Despite his reputation, Nordskog had done something noble and saved her—if only to claim her as his own. Her mind flashed back to him clutching her to his chest and cutting off her hair. Now that they were alone, what would he do to her?

Her knees trembled, and she held her breath to calm herself. Now was not the time to give in to hysterics or start crying. Rothgar wasn’t here to help her. She had to help herself. Perhaps if she acted brave, Nordskog wouldn’t harm her. She squared her shoulders and pushed her fears aside, waiting to see what he’d do next.

Nordskog stomped his right foot on the ground, and she stared at him, confused. What was he doing?

He kicked the unconscious man, then pointed at his right leg and nodded a few times.

After a moment, she understood. In his own way, Nordskog had repaid her for tending to his injured leg.