A Heart of Fire (39 page)

Finna
gasped as she tried to stand. The pain she'd felt before became sharper and did
not cease. She cried out as she gained her feet, forcing herself up.

Many
warriors quickly littered the floor. Aldar's men did not stand a chance, as
they had been mostly unprepared. But Aldar hung on, swinging madly, not ready
to give up just yet.

Her
uncle lashed out and caught her husband's arm with his blade. A streak of crimson
appeared, and Finna gasped. His sword arm.

She
had to help him.

Finna
slunk along the wall, coming to the dais where, on the wall behind the massive
seat Aldar used as a throne, hung a shield with crossed spears. She took one of
those spears, glancing quickly to find her husband struggling to hold back
Aldar.

Finna
glared at her uncle and started from the dais. Valdrik noticed her, saw her
attack coming, held Aldar in place.

Quickly,
with one quick jab, Finna speared her uncle in the back.

The
feeling that rushed through her as his back arched upward exhilarated her,
freed her—avenged her.

Valdrik
swung his blade at Aldar's neck.

For
what seemed an eternity, the room paused.

Finna
watched as, very slowly, Valdrik's blade sliced through the back of Aldar's
neck, and then as his head rolled off his shoulders to the side, thumping to
the rushes. Blood sprayed, staining both her and Valdrik.

After
a moment, as it hit her that this was really over, she let go the spear, also
realizing that without her, Aldar would have crumpled to the floor, too. His
body fell after his head, and she looked up to meet her husband's stare.

Valdrik
lived!

He
was all right!

His
look turned to concern, and the next thing Finna knew, she crumpled to the
floor and her husband rushed to take her in his arms.

She
stole one last look at him, tried to reach for his face, but she wasn’t sure if
she actually succeeded in touching him one last time, for everything in her
world faded to blackness.

Chapter
Thirty-Four

"I
shall die," Finna whimpered.

It
was two days later that Finna lay in Geera's arms, under her sister's gentle
care.

Geera
shushed her. "I shall not let you die," she murmured, lines of worry
creasing her forehead. She tipped the tinsane to Finna's lips, forcing the
mixture down her throat to render her unconscious.

Her
sister needed rest, and to lie still.

She'd
not yet lost the babe, which greatly surprised Geera.

Perhaps
the child was as strong and stubborn as its mother.

Tiredly,
Geera held Finna until her sister's body went lax and Finna fell into a deep
slumber. Only then did Geera leave her. Not that she had any great wish to do
so, but with Valdrik camped outside the chamber, she knew her sister was safe.

Everyone
was safe now.

Hale
and hearty, not so much. But those under her care would heal in time. Aldar's
threat had been vanquished, and so had Isaguilde's.

As
she slipped from the chamber above the great hall, Valdrik rose from his seat.
"Is she all right?" he asked.

"Aye,"
Geera said. She offered a tired smile and pushed her ragged hair from her face.
"She yet lives, and so does the child for now."

She
started from him, toward the hall where the others had been laid out to be
tended.

"Geera."

Valdrik's
voice stopped her yet again, and she turned to him.

"You
did your family a great service," he said. "I owe you
everything."

His
genuine tone swelled her heart, but she had not the words to respond with and
so she only nodded.

Quickly,
before he saw the tremble of her hands, she turned and fled down the stairs.
The image of the dagger Finna had given her buried in Isaguilde's chest burned
into Geera's mind ever deeper every time the memory conjured.

Aye,
she'd been forever changed.

And
it was not something she ever thought she could return from.

When
she entered the hall, Ragnarr snared her attention for a moment. Yet she could
not summon the desire to go to him. Instead, she fled to the doors in need of
the freedom of the outside, and grabbed her cloak from a peg on the wall.

Wrapping
it about her shoulders, Geera stepped out into the cold, the image of Ragnarr
still with her. She glanced over her shoulder to see that no one followed and
closed the door. She sucked in a hard breath and looked out over the village as
she started down the steps.

She
had thought herself ready for marriage, ready for a family.

Now
she wasn’t sure about anything, particularly herself.

She
had thought she'd known who she was and what she wanted—but that one terrible
act had changed everything.

Geera
shivered and pulled her fur cloak tighter around her shoulders.

She
laughed to herself. She had forever sought to wed, but now she needed time
alone, time to grieve for the innocence she had lost—not a husband.

She
looked down to her hands, the hands of a healer, not a killer.

Or
so they used to be.

If
she knew anything about herself anymore, it was that she could not wed Ragnarr
until she once again knew who she was.

****

It
seemed a lifetime to Valdrik before he was able to speak with his wife, but
after another day, Finna became alert enough to open her eyes. Geera tended to
her and left them to speak alone. He told her Finna was addled to have done
what she did. He yelled at her, he cursed her actions a thousand times over,
and though he was ashamed to admit it, he cried when she slumbered so that she
would not see.

"Why
did you not tell me of our child?" he asked, later.

Finna
swallowed, tears welling in her eyes. "I did not know if it would make you
happy."

"Finna,"
he said. Valdrik shook his head at her. "The news would have made me the
happiest man in all the world, to have learned it in any other fashion than I
did. Do you realize the harm you have done?"

"Aye.
I thought you were going to die," she said brokenly. "I didn't think
at all before I left. Nothing else mattered at the moment." Her tears
streaked her cheeks, and Valdrik reached to smooth them away. "I shall be
a terrible mother," she wailed. "Just as terrible as I am a
wife."

He
cupped her cheek with his hand and then ran his palm down her body, gently to
cup the slight swell of her stomach. "Stop that," he chided.
"Finna, you must know there is nothing that matters more to me in this
world than you. You and our child." His stare fixed on her stomach through
her gown.

"I
know," she said weakly, her voice still shaken, but her tears retreated.
"I wanted to tell you when our quarrel over Isaguilde had been resolved,
when we could rejoice in our child. I'm sorry, Valdrik." Her regret
carried through in her tone. "I've been foolish in much of this."

Valdrik's
stare hardened at the mention of the other woman. "I am sorry I did not
believe you," he said, glancing back to meet Finna's stare. "I should
have believed you."

"Where
is she now?"

Valdrik
glanced to the rafters where Fang roosted above his mistress, watching them. He
stared at the bird a long moment. "She is dead," he said at last.

"Dead,"
Finna repeated. "Before she did more harm?"

She
sounded so hopeful.

Valdrik
stared into her eyes a long moment.

"Aye,
before she did any harm. Your parents are safe."

Finna
sighed with relief. "How then?"

Valdrik
shook his head. His shock over what he had been told had happened still rattled
him. "It seems your sister put the training you gave her to good
use."

Finna
blinked at him a moment. "Geera took Isaguilde's life?" All in the
matter of a second he watched as fear, incredulity, surprise, and relief washed
over his wife. "Geera is all right?" She shook her head as if to
clear it. "Of course she is all right. Tell me, what happened?"

"As
I was told, she came in just at the right moment. Isaguilde was poised with a
blade to Hadarr's throat as he slumbered. Geera acted out of reflex and sank
the dagger you gave her into Isaguilde's chest when Isaguilde turned to ward
her off."

Finna
swallowed. "Good," she said, though gravely.

Valdrik
nodded. "You do not seem as relieved over her demise as I thought you
might be."

Finna
shook her head, meeting her husband's stare. She reached and took his hands.
"Before you came into Aldar's hall, he told me of how he used her. Like
me, her only crime was falling into the wrong hands. I pity her now." A
moment later, "Why didn’t she just leave with the captives and she could
have lived? She didn’t have to kill Hadarr. There was nothing to hold her to
the word she gave my uncle any longer."

Valdrik
smoothed his hand over her hair. "You cannot always expect a rational
motive, wife. Who knows what Aldar threatened her with."

"She
was here for you, too," Finna said, looking up to Valdrik. "Aldar
wanted you dead, for you had made this place stronger and less susceptible to
his attacks."

Valdrik
was shocked for a moment. "Me?"

"Aldar
said she hated you for taking her from her homeland, that she wanted you to pay
the ultimate price. And in return, Aldar was to take her back to Normandy when
he sailed next."

This
surprised Valdrik, but he found it was of no consequence now. All that mattered
was that his wife was safe and everyone knew the truth—that Finna was not to
blame for the captives' escape or what followed.

Weeks
later, after Geera told them Finna was well enough to leave the bed, since she
had shown no signs of losing her babe, Valdrik led Finna below stairs where a
feast awaited them in celebration for Finna's renewed health and to rejoice at
Aldar's death.

Finna
paused at the last step. "Are you sure they no longer suspect me?"

Valdrik
chuckled at her reluctance. "Aye. You mother found Isaguilde's possessions
and provided proof that ‘twas her Ragnarr saw with a wool covering her hair to
trick them into believing ‘twas you. She also found a bracelet that only Aldar
could have given the woman."

"I
knew I recognized that bracelet," Finna muttered and took the last step
into the hall.

Cheers
went up at their appearance, and Valdrik took his wife into his arms.

"I
love you, Finna," he said.

She
cupped his face in her hands, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "As I
do you,
Viking
," she said, just
before she kissed him.

He
chuckled against her lips. "You shall pay for calling me that,
shieldmaiden."

The
corners of her mouth curved into a smile, and she wrapped her arms around his
neck. "Aye, you can make me pay all you wish, later. Perhaps for the rest
of my life." She sighed heavily and glanced to their onlookers. "But
right now, I fear we must attend a feast," she whispered.

Valdrik
took her hand in his and led her up to the dais so they might sit with her
family.

As
Finna looked out over the hall, a warmth she'd never noticed spread through
her.

She
was where she had always belonged.

Valdrik
reached over, and his warm, rough hand covered hers.

Aye,
her Viking had brought her home.

The
End

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