A Heart of Fire (12 page)

"Child,"
the woman said, kneeling before her.

Finna
sat back, startled and wary at the woman's nearness. Surguilde reached out to
cup Finna's face in her hands, tears brimming her dark lashes, so much like her
own. "Oh, Finna!" she cried, pulling Finna into her arms.

Finna
stiffened, unsure of what to do. She looked at Valdrik for assistance, but he
seemed not to notice.

"Surguilde,"
Hadarr said. "Do not smother our daughter. You are scaring the girl."

Surguilde
stepped back then, swiping away her tears. "I cannot help myself. I've not
seen her since she was but three months old."

"You
can wait a moment longer," Hadarr said. "First, I think we owe her an
explanation. Can you not see she does not believe us?"

Surguilde's
eyes hardened then. "Aldar has lied to you for too long," she spat.
"If we had known you lived we would have found a way to bring you home
sooner." Her sobs rattled her thin frame, and swiftly a girl Finna had
scarcely noticed came to wrap the woman in her arms, urging her to sit. Finna
looked between the two until Hadarr reached out and touched her arm.

"Your
sister Geera," he said, indicating the younger woman.

Finna
regarded the honey-haired girl with surprise.

"You,
too
, are my daughter," he said,
reaching for her, placing his other hand to his heart. His eyes turned
pleading. "Whether you believe me now or not, 'tis the gods’ truth.
Methinks with time you will reconcile yourself with the facts. When you are
ready, I shall like very much to tell you what happened."

Finna
took a moment to look him over, to look the whole lot of them over. She only
found sincerity. "
If
what you
say is true, how could Aldar have kept his ruse for so long? And why?" she
asked.

"Through
hate," Surguilde said bitterly, her face coming off the other woman's
shoulder. She only started sobbing again when she looked at Finna. "I can
only imagine what you have endured at his uncouth hands."

Geera
cradled the woman back to her, her eyes lingering on the bruises on Finna's
face and the cut on her lip. A look of sympathy clouded her expression.

"Enough
talk of my brother for now," Hadarr said, pressing himself upward from his
seat, grunting with his effort. He winced as he came to his full height.

Finna
cringed. She had caused his pain. And apparently she had caused him pain for a
good number of years.

He
lifted his hands to silence the room, and all eyes focused on their Jarl.
Warriors and thralls alike stopped to listen.

"I
have made a promise to Valdrik for the safe return of my daughter," Hadarr
announced loudly.

Valdrik
stood then, too, and faced Hadarr expectantly. Finna looked between the men
with vapid disinterest for Valdrik's prize to come for bringing her home. She
could only feel pity for her poor sister. She glanced to the other woman only
to find her smiling, her eyes sparkling with admiration for Valdrik.

Finna
just barely stopped herself from snorting.

Hadarr
reached for Finna, surprising her, and before she realized his fingers were
around her arm, he gently pulled her up by the elbow to stand at his side, too.
Confused, Finna looked out over the room before she found the Jarl's stare on
her. Hadarr gazed into her eyes as he spoke, his eyes the same color as her
own. She swallowed the lump in her throat, apprehension mounting.

Surely not.

"When
Valdrik left, I offered him everything I possessed to return my eldest daughter
to me. I offered my lands, my place as Jarl." Hadarr drew his gaze to
Valdrik and turned to place his other hand on Valdrik's shoulder, speaking to
the room now as he stood between them. "Alas, the good man he is, he did
not accept." Hadarr paused as some in the room found amusement in that,
cheering as though they anticipated something, though Finna could not imagine
what.

Nay,
she could imagine.

She
only hoped she was wrong.

Hadarr
continued. "But he
did
accept
the promise of my daughter's hand in marriage, and I give him this. As you are
all aware, I have no sons, and so I also name Valdrik my heir through marriage
to my daughter—" he stepped back and joined Finna and Valdrik's hands
"—Finna."

Finna
went stock-still at the touch of Valdrik's rough, warm palm encasing hers.

Low,
so only they could hear, Hadarr said, "I place my daughter under your
care, Valdrik."

The
hall remained silent.

No
more cheers went up for them.

Finna
looked sharply at Valdrik, his mouth fallen ajar as he stared blankly across
the hall.

Nay!
This could not be. She shook her head, slowly at first, and then rapidly.

"Nay!"
she cried. "I do not wish this." She pulled her hand free and turned
on Hadarr.

Her
father placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "'Tis for the best,"
he said.

Finna
whirled on Valdrik accusingly. How could he have not told her? But he did not
look at her, he had turned, his stare fixated over her shoulder. Finna turned a
complete circle as she looked back to the hearth to find the young woman who
had comforted Surguilde.

Her
sister.

Finna's
mouth fell open, too, but at the girl's beauty, beauty she had failed to notice
before. It was no great wonder why Valdrik stared in her direction. The young
woman's hair was long and silken, and her soft blue eyes sparkled with tears.
Her newfound sister turned and fled the room then.

Surguilde
came to her feet. "Geera," she called. With a twinge of tangible
panic, the older woman hastily looked between the daughter fleeing toward a set
of stairs and back to Finna.

"Go
to her," Hadarr urged gently.

Surguilde
sighed, shaking her head. Her brow pinched, drawing worried lines on her
forehead. "Nay. I cannot desert one child for the other." She whirled
around. "This was too much, Hadarr," she said. Her fists balled on
her hips, and her ire shredded her husband where he stood. "Geera shall be
fine, but Finna…" She turned to Finna and stretched out her arms with her
palms up. "Come, child," she said. "You look as though Valdrik
has dragged you behind his horse all the way to us. What did you do to
her?" she asked Valdrik, a hint of an accusation in her tone.

Surguilde
pursed her lips at him, causing Finna to smother her snort of laughter.

Finally,
someone to put the lout in his place.

Valdrik
slowly lifted a brow, obviously unaccustomed to being reproached. As though he
thought back on his actions, he cleared his throat and smoothed on a look of
innocence. With one hand casually resting on the hilt of his sword and the
other wrapped around an ale horn, he smiled disarmingly.

"'Tis
not what I did to her," he said. "But what she did to herself."
He glanced down his body then, holding his arms aloft. "Look at what she
did to me," he said.

Others
in the hall laughed at his jest, but Finna snorted and cast him a scathing
look, which he met as he tipped his ale horn to his lips and drank, daring her
with his cool blue eyes over the rim of the horn.

Finna
shook her head at him.

He
would not get away with this for long. If she were to stay here, others would
learn the truth of his uncouthness. She would personally see to it.

"You
are to the bathhouse, methinks," Surguilde said to Valdrik, less of a
suggestion than a command. She turned to Finna, brushing a gentle hand over her
daughter's hair. "I am certain you wish to rest after your journey."

"Aye."
Finna hesitantly slipped one hand into the woman's.

Surguilde's
touch was warm and soft as she pulled her along from the room. Finna's heart
gave a lurch again, struck by the tenderness. Dare she believe this? After all,
why would they make such things up?

****

"You
deceived me," Valdrik said reprovingly when the women had gone and the hall
returned to normal. Though no great loss pained him at finding he had not been
promised Geera as he had thought, the way his Jarl had played him angered him.

He
could not possibly wed Finna. She was wild and hardened. The woman would rather
slit his throat in his sleep than share his bed and tend his hearth. If he
had
to wed to gain what he desired, he
wished a compliant, desirable woman for a wife. Not a heathen sent from hell to
torment him.

Hadarr
turned his attention away from his daughter ascending the stairs with her
mother, tilting his chin to look down his nose at Valdrik in a cursory way. A
hint of humor danced in his eyes. "Perhaps," he said and turned
toward his seat, holding his arm out as a gesture for Valdrik to sit, too.

Valdrik,
though his veins throbbed with anger, took the seat next to his Jarl. He was
more annoyed than anything. He loved his new people dearly, perhaps as dearly
as he had loved those he lost. He would do anything for them.
Almost
anything.

He
glowered and clinched his fist.

But
take Finna as his woman?

He
shuddered at the thought.

"Geera
would have made you a fine wife," Hadarr said. "She is of age and is
a kindhearted young woman more beautiful than any other here." He shrugged
thoughtfully. "That was, before Finna returned. Methinks they are well
matched in beauty, though beauty is only judged by one’s own eye. Geera is
biddable and gentle as I well know you admired her for. But," Hadarr
looked sidelong at Valdrik, "you would have become bored with her far too
soon. Geera deserves a man who will never lose interest in her tender
nature."

Valdrik's
head whipped to his Jarl. "That is not true," he protested.

"Aye,
it is." Hadarr turned back around and took up his ale. He drank long from
the horn before he sat it aside again. "Trust a man who has been married
to the same woman for a score of years. A husband and wife must balance one
another in all things or you shall never find happiness. She must soothe you
whilst you fire her blood.

"Why
do you think I have put you off for so long? I desired you to take my place
when I am gone because I feel you will be as good a Jarl as I ever was, maybe
better. Yet, I failed to find a way to make that happen without dooming my
youngest daughter to a joining she would eventually be unhappy in." He
paused and looked back to Valdrik. "But now, I have my eldest daughter
returned to me, and I plan never to lose her again. Finna seems full of spirit.
You need a woman like her to keep you on your toes, and methinks she needs a
firm man with a gentle hand."

"I
stay on my toes just fine, Jarl. I beg you, do not saddle me with that
woman." Valdrik cast a blank but icy glare across the room where Finna had
disappeared, leaving a trail of gossiping thralls in her wake.

Hadarr
lifted his brows. "Valdrik, you surprise me. I am still your Jarl, am I
not?"

Valdrik
swallowed his inner rage and turned to the man. "I am sorry, I spoke out
of anger. Had you any idea what she put me through on the way here…" He
trailed off, staring blankly at the wall behind his Jarl.

Hadarr
leaned down near him. "If you wish to be Jarl after I am gone, you will
wed Finna and keep her here. Keep her safe. She is my eldest and my heir now.
Only her
husband
shall be Jarl."
He paused. "And, Valdrik, you need a woman to make you forget your need
for vengeance. That is something Geera has never done for you. Finna…" He
sighed. "I've the feeling she just may be the one who can do that."

Valdrik
shut his eyes. Briefly, he wondered what Hadarr might have done had they not
returned Finna, or if her nature were likened to Geera's. Would he have allowed
him the wife of his choosing?

Did
it truly matter?

He
could not believe this, but he found himself asking, "When?"

Chapter Ten

Finna
spent the better part of an hour soaking in the wooden tub by the fire, in a
chamber where Surguilde had brought her. The hot water smelled of flowers and
stung at the small cuts and scrapes along her arms that she received from the
underbrush in the forest when she had attempted to escape Valdrik.

The
woman had left her for a time, but returned shortly to begin the washing.
Surguilde worked a gentle, sweet smelling lather into her hair, though she had
not been so easy on her skin, claiming Finna had not taken care of herself as
she should.

Surguilde
finished with her hair and came around the side of the tub with a cloth. She
took one of Finna's hands in hers, examining her fingers and nails. "You
have so many calluses." She made a
tsk'ing
sound
.

"From
my sword," Finna explained.

Surguilde
stopped and looked at her, and though she did not
tsk
this time, her expression clearly conveyed her disapproval. She
looked back to Finna's hand and began to scrub at her fingers ever harder.
"What is all this under your nails? Blood?"