A Heart of Fire (34 page)

Geera
snorted. "Nay," she grumbled. She looked all too forlorn. "I
fear I'll never wed."

This
time Finna sighed. "I'll see you find a husband, never fear that." A
drag of silence stretched endlessly as they continued on back toward the men,
in the direction of the walls, but before they got there, Finna pulled up, and
Geera's horse stopped as well. "I've something I must ask you," she
said.

"Aye?"

"Of
late, I've begun to think I may have a serious illness."

Geera
frowned, clearly puzzled. Her gaze swept her sister, looking for any signs.
"What makes you think this?"

"I
cannot eat, although I am ravenous. I cannot do things I normally do with ease.
I cannot stay awake. I drive myself mad with emotional surges.
 
I…" She searched for the words to
explain how she felt and frowned. "Do you think
that
is why I have been so hard on Isaguilde? Because of this
illness clutching me?"

Geera
chuckled and reached to pat her sister's knee. "What I think, is that you
are with child."

"
With child
," Finna repeated dumbly,
her face falling. "Oh, nay!"

Geera
laughed heartily now. "Do not fret so," she chided. "I am happy
to become an aunt."

Her
sister spurred her horse on then, and Finna slowly followed as one of the men
began to wave to them, signaling they should return.

As
Finna's horse clopped toward the stables, she caught sight of Grahund and
Bailish working in the forge. Grahund looked up to her as he hammered at a
sword, but Finna quickly turned her stare. She could not bear the look of hurt
in his eyes.

He
blamed her for his captivity.

Finna
continued on, also catching sight of her husband in the training yard. She
admired his body, the ripple of muscles as he swung at his opponent. What would
he think of their child to come?

Would
the news make him happy, or spark fear as it did for her?

Finna
swallowed hard as she dismounted, easing herself gingerly to the ground.

She
wouldn’t tell him. Not just yet, she decided.

Not
until their conflict over Isaguilde was done with.

She
turned for the longhouse behind her sister, traipsing through the deep drifts
to the cleared path. It was time to warm herself in the hall, and perhaps spy
on her nemesis.

Chapter
Twenty-Nine

Finna
shivered as she walked alongside her sister up the path, toward the longhouse.
Fang rode atop her shoulder, his feathers ruffled into a snug fluff to keep him
warm. Each woman carried a basket of foraged roots and herbs from the forest,
and behind them, their ever-watchful guards dispersed toward the stables to put
away the horses.

Their
findings had been slim, but today Geera wished to show her how to search for
what was needed for winter ailments, even when the thickest of snows blanketed
the ground. Looking under heavy swaths of branches growing around the bases of
larger trees, or digging under the frozen ground had produced what they were
looking for, but Finna had become overtired, which forced them to return not an
hour's time later.

It
was a nice day out with no winds or snowfall. A good day to be about for sure.
Valdrik spent much time now with his men, training more and more as Aldar's
threat had increased.

It
was strange, but with her condition, she no longer desired such activities as
sword practice. She was very content to tend their home and sit by the warm
fire and await her husband to return home so they might spend the cold nights
in one another's arms. Some nights were colder than others, and on those nights
her husband loved her well, until they were both too tired to care if they
became cold.

Finna
smiled to herself.

She
glanced up then, as they neared the forge, and looked behind to see if Stieg
had gone with the others to tend their beasts. When she did not find her
personal guard traipsing along, she chanced a look into the little building
ahead. A steady stream of smoke came from the roof over a fire that was built
in a hearth at the side of the building to heat the metal. The front of the
building was left open where the inhabitants were perfectly visible, though
toward the back, where the smith lived, a door led into his home. The smith
leaned casually against the frame as he instructed the men by mouth.

Grahund
and Bailish had been put to work there not long after their capture, and as she
had suspected, they were busy pounding raw metal into blades under the guard of
two men. One for each prisoner.

She
had seen the captives there several times, but had never been alone enough to
risk speaking with them. Even if she were only curious about their health,
Valdrik would be furious with her if he knew she so much as looked their way.

But
it wasn’t their health that concerned her.

Finna
faltered in her steps as the second guard turned and barked something harsh at
Grahund. Instantly, she bared her teeth. Not at the man's hostility for the
prisoners, but for it was
him
. Anger
swelled in her breast. She would not let Geera be tormented by that cur's
presence this day, and as they were coming ever closer to the forge with every
step, her sister would no doubt be noticed by the cruel man.

"Geera,"
she said quickly, stopping and turning her sister to her before the man noticed
them. "Here, take Fang home for me. My back begins to ache with his added
weight atop my shoulder, and I wish to see my husband before I go in. He is in
the training yard." She ticked her head in the opposite direction, back up
the path. If she sent Geera toward hers and Valdrik's dwelling, the path to the
left would take her out of notice of the guard before Geera reached the forge.

Geera
frowned at Finna's sudden anxiety. "All right," she said, raising her
arm toward Fang and Finna lifted him down and set him to Geera's arm. "I
shall see you later," she said as she started on again, looking up to the
bird as he fluffed himself in the cold.

The
two had become fast friends. In fact, Geera was the only other person here Fang
trusted, yet.

Finna
stood in the path and watched as her sister left, trailing out of sight of both
her and the guard, who—Finna turned in his direction—still berated the two
captives, spitting on Bailish now for some offense.

Finna
gasped and took a step, taking in the whole scene before her.

Bailish
did not look as though his temper would hold much longer. The guard did not
know what ill-possibilities he enticed by provoking the two warriors. Even
under chain, they wielded hammers and swords, albeit unfinished swords, but
swords nonetheless.

Her
back stiffened, for she had not seen Bailish do aught to deserve such
disrespect.

Indeed,
she wished to seek her husband. She wanted this
animal
to be dealt with once and for all. Finna started to turn for
the training yard, but at the same moment, caught Grahund's eye.

His
cold stare flickered on her a moment, but then he seemed to pale, and she
realized his stare had shifted over her shoulder.

Finna
turned to see what he was looking at behind her. She reached up to brush a pale
wisp of hair from her eyes as the winds began to pick up of a sudden.

There,
she spotted the red-haired Isaguilde on the path behind her.

Finna
narrowed her eyes on the woman. What was she doing outside the walls? Coming
and going at her leisure now? It was too much!

She
glanced back to Grahund, his stare transfixed assumingly on Isaguilde. Finna
looked back, but finding nothing else of interest, the woman was the only thing
Grahund
could
be looking at so
intently.

But
why?

She
looked between the two once more, but when she turned to the hill, the woman
had disappeared as quickly as she had come.

A
heavy grunt caught her ear then, and a shout.

"Get
back to work," the guard railed, and hit Grahund again. "We do not
keep you alive to lust after our women." He kicked Grahund in the leg then
and turned to the other guard. The two shared a laugh and the menacing swine
looked off in the direction Isaguilde had gone, dragging his fingers down the
corners of his mouth, over his bottom lip and beard as he spoke to the other
man, as though he were speaking of Isaguilde.

For
a moment, only a wisp of a moment, Finna felt a stab of pity for the other
woman. If the cur could use Isaguilde to rut between her legs, he would. And
there was no one here to protect her from such.

Her
or any of their own women.

He
had to be stopped!

She
flinched when she heard the crack of a hand across Grahund's cheek, and she
realized he had now been caught looking at her. She froze under the man's
glare, and as if to taunt Finna, he hit Grahund in the face again.

Finna
gasped, and at Grahund's sharp wince, she started toward the forge without
hesitance or thought.

"You
there," she shouted, pointing at the guard.

Again,
taunting her wrath, he spat on the ground in her direction.

"What
do you want now?" he asked. "Do you come nearer I shall be forced to
call for your husband. You are not supposed to be near these men."

"
You
are not supposed to abuse them,
either. What did this man do to deserve such brash punishment at your foul
hand?"

"Naught
of your concern," he said and started to turn, but by then Finna had
approached and put a hand to his arm to keep him from turning away from her.

She
matched his height, and he did not intimidate her as perhaps he might another
woman.

"I
asked you a question, and if you do not answer, it shall be I to summon my
husband—your future Jarl.
You
would be
wise in heeding me!"

He
snarled at her again and leaned in, almost imperceptibly. "He looked at
the red-haired woman in a way I did not care for, so I hit him." His head
bobbed from side to side with his cocky tone.

"He
looked
at her?" Finna matched
his cockiness and raised a brow. "And why should that offend you? Do you
fuck her now, too? Have you laid any claim to this Isaguilde?" He didn’t
answer, and so she turned from the guard to Grahund. "And why did you look
at her?" she asked him, perhaps
too
sharply.

Grahund
looked frightened. He maintained a steady rhythm in his work as he glanced at
her, but did not speak. His eyes told her enough to warrant more suspicion.

"
Why
, Grahund?" she asked
pleadingly. "Tell me, please. Who is she really?"

The
guard's heavy fist came down on the back of Grahund's neck then and made him
cry out as the blow knocked him over the hot iron he worked with and the piece
clattered to the ground.

"Stop!"
Finna cried. She spun to the side and grabbed a branding iron hanging from the
ceiling beam of the small, open hut and—just as the guard moved to hit Grahund
again—she lashed out.

As
soon as she did, iron met with flesh, and a shrieking howl ripped through the
area.

The
man's scream turned heads, caused animals to jump in their stalls as they
wisely shrank back from the scene.

Finna
gasped and took a step back from the guard.

Surely
he would try to kill her this time! What had she done?

Finna
started to drop the branding iron, but instead lifted it again, cocking her
head to the side with a look of warning. She'd not let him harm her. She
couldn’t
. Not in her condition.

Inwardly,
she began to berate herself.
Stupid, so
stupid!
She'd not meant to do that though. Neither good nor bad intentions
mattered now.
He
surely would not
care.

The
man erected himself, holding his face, and Finna looked between him and the
other guard. The other man said naught, only watched the cur with wide-eyes,
waiting the same as she to see what he would do next.

Easily,
she edged to the side of the forge where the smith had frozen, too, unwilling
to aid either side in any way. Finna took up a sword from a rack there where
finished swords were hung and exchanged the branding iron for one of the
blades. She dropped the branding iron, and it clunked to her feet on the cold
ground, and Finna lifted the sword.

It
was so heavy to her now, and her hands grasped the hilt in an odd way.

She
cocked her head at him, sensing his restless urge to pounce on her. To make her
atone for the scars she'd given him, both past and present.

Only
now, she was not so sure she could defend herself.

"On
the chance you want a sword through your gut, cur, take one more step and I
shall give you just that," she warned, hoping her threat would be enough.

He
glowered at her. "I shall see that your husband beats you for this,
woman," he muttered. She had the feeling he would have shouted, would have
come at her, had he been physically able. When he dropped his hand, Finna's
eyes grew round, and she gaped, taking a step back.