Come Back to Me (27 page)

"Is something wrong?" Rycca asked.

"Oh, no, not at all, my lady."

False.

Rycca waited, convinced the friendly woman was not truly given to lies. Patience quickly proved her right.

Magda glanced at the other women, several of whom nodded encouragingly. She hesitated a scant moment longer. "It is only that… we thought, perhaps… well, you know. Lord Dragon dotes on his little nephew. It is so sweet to see them together. We all look forward to the day when our jarl will be a father himself."

Therefore had they thought she might be… Rycca flushed and felt foolish for it. She was a married woman now and could reasonably expect to have children. Reasonably? Say rather certainly given what passed between her and Dragon. Indeed, she could be pregnant already and not even know it. The thought cast her into confusion, filling her as it did with both longing and trepidation. A child she could love, cherish, and protect, who would grow up so very differently than she had herself. Yet it was an awesome responsibility and she had no reason to believe she would be a good mother, having never known such.

"Here now," Magda said softly, "you try this good soup. Tell me what you think of the seasoning, if you will, my lady."

Rycca tried a spoonful, surprised by the medley of flavors that played over her tongue. She recognized chicken, wild carrots, juniper berries, and something else…

"Thyme," Magda said. "I thought it would be just the thing after I heard the Lady Cymbra uses it."

The renowned Cymbra, again. Rycca knew a moment's craven gratitude that the lovely Krysta, at least, was on the other side of the sea. That left only one of them to deal with, which was quite enough. No sooner had the thought surfaced than it shamed her. She drank a little more of the soup and would have gladly enjoyed even more, save for the thought that she had already indulged herself well enough. First sleeping half the day away, then scarcely pausing for a look around before needing to be fed. A fine impression she was making.

She stood, smoothing the exquisite gown that felt even more like borrowed plumage. "I would like to see the storerooms now."

Magda guided her to them. The woman was kindness itself, taking care to point out everything she thought might be of interest, to introduce everyone whose path they crossed, and to offer ever more words in Norse when she realized how adept Rycca was at remembering them.

As they approached the storerooms, Rycca saw a familiar face step from the stable, look in her direction, and as quickly turn back from whence he had come. For just a moment, it seemed to her that the young man, Magnus, was avoiding her. But that was foolish for what purpose could he have in doing so?

"Was that Magnus?" she asked but Magda had not seen him and merely shrugged.

"It may have been, my lady."

"He used to be at Sciringesheal, did he not?"

Magda hesitated but at length she said, "Until about a year ago, then he came here."

"For any particular reason? I mean, is it usual for a man to serve one lord, then another?"

The older woman stopped and looked at her more closely. "Lord Dragon spoke to you of this?"

"He told me Magnus used to serve his brother."

Slowly, Magda nodded. She resumed walking again, Rycca keeping pace at her side. "There was an… incident at Sciringesheal. It was not Magnus' fault but afterward, he felt uncomfortable there."

"What happened?"

"He had been set to guard the Lady Cymbra. She was attacked and he wounded in the process. No one thought he was to blame but when it became clear he was no longer happy there, Lord Dragon offered him a post here."

"I take it they know each other well?"

"Magnus was the jarls' shadow back when they were all children. When their lands were attacked and everything destroyed, the brothers had the courage to make their way in the larger world. That was the right decision for them but Magnus wanted so much to go along. Of course, it was impossible. He was not even six years old. The Lord Wolf himself was only twelve then and the Lord Dragon was scarcely eight. They had scant hope of surviving themselves without trying to also protect so young a child."

"So Magnus stayed with his parents?"

"They were dead, killed in the raids. But an uncle took him in." She sighed deeply. "Unfortunately, he was a cold, harsh man. But you must understand, because of all the raiding, people lived in grinding poverty and constant fear. There was never enough food or warmth… or anything, including hope. Living in such a way brought out the worst in some. Fortunately, all that has changed now."

"Because of Lord Dragon and Lord Wolf?"

Magda nodded. "The orphaned boys who left to take their chances in the world came back as men, and not just any men but warriors of great power and cunning. And wealth, wealth enough to rebuild Sciringesheal and Landsende both, to transform them into what you see today, and change the lives of everyone here beyond imagining."

She could not have timed her words better for just then they arrived at the stout wooden doors that guarded the storerooms. Unlocked, they opened to reveal a treasure trove that made Rycca gasp. Never had she expected to see such bounty at this season when most of the harvest still waited in the fields.

She knew it as a time of anxious watching and waiting, hoping the rain came but not too much, the sun shone but not too brightly, no blight appeared to devastate what had been brought forth through so much labor, until all was finally home and safe before the first frost seared whatever carelessness or ill-luck left behind. Too often she had seen her father and his men chew meat by the winter fire while the peasants scrabbled for what little they could find to feed themselves, the old and young died needlessly, and all others turned gaunt and pale from the struggle to survive. She had thought a fat harvest well kept was the only surety against such fate but now she realized her error. A fat purse wisely opened also meant a full larder.

"From where comes this grain?" she asked Magda.

"Far to the south where they already have their harvest. The jarl trades for it."

"What sort of goods?"

"Smoked fish and furs but horses as well and fine ships. Lord Dragon and his brother build drakars of such speed and strength that they have been bought to ply waters very far from here."

"I see… and, too, they control the trade along this coast, do they not? Any who wish to trade here must surely pay tribute to them."

Magda shrugged. "As is only right for it is the skill of their arms that keeps the peace and allows for such trading to happen at all."

So her husband was indeed a wealthy man as well as a powerful one but he used his wealth to better the lives of his people. No wonder so many came to Landsende. Nor had she seen the all of it yet. Beyond the storerooms were cellars dug into the hills that held vats of mead, ale, and wine. There were also large barns, empty now as the animals foraged along the hillsides but soon to be rilled with winter fodder for the large flocks, smokehouses that would shortly be working day and night, and vast rows of racks for the drying of fish and meat.

All hers now to manage and somehow keep functioning properly. Her hands shook slightly as she checked the keys hanging from her belt and tried to remember which opened what.

She was still with Magda, looking over the weaving shed, when Dragon joined them. He had come directly from the training field and was sweat-stained, bare-chested, and, to Rycca's dazzled eyes, glorious. Stammering a greeting in response to his own, she was all too aware of Magda grinning broadly at them before slipping away.

They stood in the quiet shed, motes of dust dancing in the sunlight streaming through the windows and the scent of wool sweet on the air. Silence stretched between them until Dragon asked, "Magda has been showing you around?"

Rycca nodded, wishing she could take her eyes from him but unable to do so. "She is very kind."

"Yes, she is a good woman, but everyone understands you are mistress here now. You must make whatever changes you wish."

"Indeed?" Her lips trembled in a smile. "You mean if I were to order the rushes left on the floors until they become old and moldy, no food served unless it is both cold and covered in grease, clothes not washed even if they are so full of dirt as to stand up by themselves—that will please you?"

He laughed and came toward her only to stop when he remembered his state. "Speaking of full of dirt, I am hardly fit company but in the spirit of wifely tolerance I wonder if you will accompany me to a pool a little ways from here."

He meant to bathe. The memory of him emerging from the sauna at the lodge flashed through her mind. Her mouth was suddenly dry. "I thought Vikings liked to boil themselves first."

"Ordinarily I would agree with you, but if I get into a sauna now, I will fall asleep."

"You are tired from your exertions on the training field?"

The look he trailed over her was purely male and so evocative as to warm her clear through. "I am tired from my exertions in our bed, lady, as I suspect you well know."

"That is a relief!"

He looked at her in surprise, prompting a red face and a quick explanation. "I meant that I could not help but think of you toiling as usual while I slept half the day away and felt myself shamed for such sloth."

"Oh, well, if it's any consolation to you, I fell asleep under a tree, to the great hilarity of my men, who are not likely to let me forget it anytime soon."

She laughed, tension uncoiling, and without hesitation she held out her hand to him.

THE POOL WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF A HILL, close enough to walk to comfortably yet secluded especially at the hour when preparations for supper were under way. Distant sounds from the town reached them on the soft-stirring breeze but they were entirely alone.

"We did not ride today," Dragon said as they reached the pool after a quick stop at their lodge. "Mayhap tomorrow."

For once in her life, the thought of being on the back of a magnificent horse did not command Rycca's attention. She was far too busy looking at her magnificent husband as he removed his sword belt and blithely shucked off his trousers. Naked, he walked straight into the pool, submerged completely, and came up a few moments later, tossing streams of water from the thick mane of his hair.

"Hand me the soap, would you?"

Such a simple task, yet to fulfill it he would have to come closer. Or she would.

"That's a lovely gown," he said, smiling.

"All my gowns are lovely thanks to the Lady Krysta and your own generosity."

"It would be a shame to get it wet."

She looked at him in alarm, wondering if he would actually do such a thing. His answer was a look of pure innocence, which immediately confirmed her suspicions.

"Do you have any idea how many women must have labored so long to make this gown?"

"No, do you?"

"Well, no, not actually because I never had a gown like this before, but even so, surely you wouldn't do anything to damage it?"

"Just to be safe, why don't you take it off?"

Oh, yes, that would certainly be safe. Indeed, never was she any safer than when was she naked and in his arms. Except, of course, from the danger of her own emotions.

"I bathed when I awoke."

"The day is warm."

"The pool looks deep. Recall, I cannot swim."

"Recall I mean to teach you."

Her alarm redoubled. "Not now?"

"Why not? What better time?"

"But I had not thought… I am not ready…"

"You will be," he said patiently, "if you would only take off that gown."

She took a step back and another. "There must be more to it than that. I must think about it, prepare…"

"Rycca?"

"Yes…"

"I will take two breaths. Then I am coming out of here, taking that gown off you, and you are going to learn to swim. Clear?"

Clear. She took another step back and glanced over her shoulder, looking for a likely route for flight. It was a mistake.

Wet hands gripped her. He was there so suddenly she had no time to anticipate it. Just as quickly he removed her gown, prompting the gnawing thought that he was very adept at dispensing with women's garments.

The water was… not unpleasant.

"Relax," Dragon said. He held her snug against him as he waded in deeper.

Her stare was chiding. He saw it and laughed. "All right, perhaps that is too much to ask. But try not to drown us both."

"
I could do that
?"

"No, of course not, it was a joke. Just breathe normally. You're doing fine."

She was clinging to him as the water rose ever higher around them. Why did people do this? Why couldn't they stay on land where they belonged?

"I don't think—"

"Good, thinking is a mistake in situations like this."

"I meant this is not a good idea."

He stopped and looked down at her, his eyes suddenly tender. "Rycca, fish swim."

"Of course they do."

"Fish are very stupid. How else do you think we catch them? Yet they swim and you, a woman of intelligence and spirit, will do the same."

He thought her intelligent, he who could read and dreamed of creating books? And spirited? Such a warrior as the Dragon himself found that quality within her? Maybe she could swim after all. Surely she could not bear the thought of failing to fulfill his expectations.

"What do I have to do?"

"Lie back, relax, take a few deep breaths… that's it… now just stretch out your legs. I've still got you."

She felt his hands beneath her back as she reclined in the water. The sky was very blue. Gulls circled lazily.

"Put your head back," he said quietly.

Her hair was wet. She felt it floating all around her. The water was rather nice, especially after the warmth of the day. She really didn't have to do anything except lie back and let him support her.

He was standing several feet away, much too far to still be holding her.

"Dragon!" Her head shot up, her feet went under, and suddenly she was flailing. He was at her side in an instant, steadying her.