Fires of Winter (39 page)

She felt his body stiffen, and his arms did not return her embrace. Slowly he pushed her away from him.

“So you returned.”

She could not bear the look in his eyes or the tone of his voice. There was hatred there, not just anger.

“Did you lose your way?” Garrick continued in that same bitter tone. “Or mayhaps you finally realized that you could not survive in the wilderness alone.”

“She claims she did not run away, Garrick,” Erin said as he came into the room. “She was taken across the fjord by force.”

“Is this what she told you?”

“I believe her,” Erin said firmly in her defense. “’Twould explain why the shepherd was wet and injured when he returned. He could have tried to follow her across the fjord.”

“Or fell in a lake trying to follow her, which cost him his life!”

“Dog is dead?”

Garrick turned away from her question. She turned haunted eyes on Erin, who nodded sadly. Merciful Lord, why this too? Was not her suffering enough? Tears welled in her eyes as memories assailed her. She had won the shepherd’s affection, only to lead him to death.

She could see Garrick was of the same opinion, yet she was not wholly to blame. She must make him see that.

“’Twas Arno who hurt Dog,” Brenna said in a grief-filled whisper. “He kicked him away when Cedric would have killed him.”

“Cedric!”

“They were the ones who took me, Garrick!” She could see his doubt and she became frantic. “You must believe me! They brought a ship so they could take my horse too. They wanted you to think I ran away so you would never suspect them.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“I never learned why, except that a woman approached them and told them of me. I was kept on Arno’s farm, but I was to belong to Cedric. When he came and attempted to have me, I killed him and escaped. I sought your help first and called from the opposite cliff, but no one heard me. I cannot swim, nor could I find a boat, so I went around the fjord, the only way left to me.”

“Get her out of here, Erin, before I do her harm!”

Erin put his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged him away. “’Tis the truth, Garrick! All of it! God’s name, why would I lie?”

“In hope I would forgive you and take you back,” he said heartlessly. “’Tis too late for that.”

Unchecked tears wetted Brenna’s cheeks and neck. “You could learn the truth if you would, Garrick. Cross the fjord. See for yourself that Cedric is dead by a woman’s hand.”

“’Twould mean my death if I were found on Borgsen land. But you must know that, the same as you learned the names of the Borgsen clan, from the women. They know the story well and gossip often.”

“’Tis not so. Ask them!” she was crying hysterically now, but he turned his back on her.

“You give the lie in your own words, for no one could survive what you described in winter. Take her to my father’s house, Erin.”

“Why there?”

Garrick faced her again with such venom in his eyes that she cringed. “’Twas my intent to sell you in the East if I found you, where slaves are treated as slaves, not with the liberties I foolishly bestowed on you here. But you were a gift to me, and so being, ’tis my father’s right to have you back.”

“Come along, Brenna,” Erin urged her.

Brenna felt as if she were torn in two. Bile rose in her throat and nearly choked her. She was not strong enough to deal with this rejection. She would have crumpled on the floor if Erin had not supported her. She let him lead her as far as the wall dividing the hall, but there she stopped and looked back one last time at Garrick.

“Everything I have said is the truth, Garrick.” Her voice lacked all emotion—she was dead inside. “’Twas my love for you and my need to return to you that made it possible for me to survive rounding the fjord. I went without food because there was none, and I nearly froze many times. But I kept on because I thought you would be there for me in the end. I should have died. ’Twould have made you most happy.”

She had spoken to his back, stiff and unyielding. Now she left, the pain in her chest agonizing. She had lost him. Nothing mattered any more.

E
rin did not dare disobey Garrick. He knew his young master was wrong, he was sure of it now, but he was also certain that Garrick would never be convinced of his error. Erin grieved for Brenna. She did not deserve such callous treatment. Were it not for the other woman who had destroyed Garrick first, he might relent this time and trust in Brenna. But Garrick, a bitter young man, had closed himself off completely, and Brenna was suffering for it.

She said nothing on the way to Anselm’s settlement. Erin had brought a cart for her to ride in, promising to bring her horse to her as soon as the mare had regained some strength. Brenna still said nothing, and it was with a heavy heart that he left her at his old master’s home.

Brenna was fussed over by Linnet, who treated her like an invalid after exclaiming over her condition. She was not allowed to step one foot from the bed, nor did she try. Her every whim would have been catered to, but she demanded nothing. She ate very little of the food placed before her, even when Linnet scolded her severely. Brenna grew weaker instead of stronger. She would explain nothing, respond to nothing, until the day Cordella visited her.

“Linnet tells me you are wasting away, Brenna,” Cordella said smugly, sitting on the edge of Brenna’s bed. “This pleases me greatly.”

Brenna appeared not to have heard. She simply stared at her stepsister with her expression unchanged. This riled Cordella more than a scathing response.

“Did you hear me, Brenna? I am glad you are dying. ’Twill mean you will not be around to tempt Hugh away from me. And he does wander with my belly so big.”

Still Brenna did not bat an eye, and Cordella got up from the bed to pace around it.

“Hugh cannot do enough for me, nor can his father.” Cordella paced more quickly, her huge belly preceding each step she took. “But I have not had such beautiful gifts as your Viking gave you. You are spoiled, Brenna! You are never satisfied! Why did you run away from him? Now you are here where you are not welcome. Always when you are near, I lose what is mine. Not this time, though. I will not let you take Hugh from me—I will kill you first!”

Brenna followed her with her eyes. “You are a fool, Della,” she said in a weak voice. “I would sooner die than take Hugh from you. He disgusts me.”

“You lie! You want everything that is mine!”

“Your ridiculous fears are groundless, and you sicken me with your jealousy. I want naught that is yours. I want no man, ever again.”

“Not even your precious Viking, who cast you aside for another?” Cordella laughed shrilly. “Yea, I know of Morna, his one true love.”

Brenna sat up in bed for the first time in days. “Get out of here, Della!”

Cordella crossed to the door, then surprised Brenna with a smile of genuine warmth. “So your spirit returns. Mayhaps now you will live just to spite me, eh?”

With that she left the room, leaving Brenna immersed in confusion. Did Cordella purposely make her angry? Did she in truth not want Brenna to die?

Linnet came into the room, relief on her features. “You are better finally?”

Brenna ignored her question. “What has come over Della?”

“She has changed greatly as life grows within her. She worried over you when no one could find you. She cried to me that she had wronged you terribly and she feared she could never make amends.”

“I find this hard to believe.”

“We all feared you were dead, Brenna. ’Twas a foolish, foolish thing you did!”

Brenna sighed and lay down again. “The only foolish thing I did was to return to Garrick.”

“Nay, child. You are alive, and now you must make an effort to regain your strength.”

“There is much that I have to tell you, Aunt.”

“First you will speak to Heloise. She has been waiting many days to talk to you. I will find her and bring you food. And this time,” she added sternly, “you will eat it all.”

Brenna waited patiently. She
would
recover. She was hurting no one but herself by wallowing in self-pity and grief. She was through not caring whether she lived or died.

Suddenly Anselm’s words came to mind. “I would see Brenna free, rather than belonging to someone else.” She belonged to Anselm again, and by his words, he must set her free, even if she had to reveal to him that she had heard him say this. It would mean all her suffering was not in vain.

Heloise came into the room followed by Linnet, who carried a large tray of food. Brenna felt hunger gnawing at her belly, but that could wait a few minutes more.

“I have killed an enemy of the Haardrads, and in so doing, by Viking law, I demand my freedom.”

Her words surprised both women to the point of speechlessness, and she quickly went on to explain what had really happened to her. “You may not believe me,” she said in the end, “just as Garrick refused to accept the truth. But I swear, with God as my witness, that all I have said is true.”

“’Tis an incredible story, Brenna,” Heloise said at last.

“You must admit ’tis hard to believe you could survive such a long journey at this time of the year.”

“Yea, I admit that. Were it not for my love for Garrick, I would have perished.”

“I will agree that love can give added strength. It can conquer impossible obstacles,” Heloise said, then added thoughtfully, “Yea, I believe you, Brenna. But others will not.”

“I do not care what others think. Only your husband must believe me. I could not bear for all I endured to be for naught. I must have my freedom.”

“I will tell him your story, Brenna, but ’twill not matter if he accepts it or not. You are already a freewoman. You were from the day my son relinquished his hold on you.”

T
he enormity of Heloise’s words and the seriousness of Brenna’s position did not affect Brenna until she was fully recovered. She was free, yet here she was in Anselm Haardrad’s care, eating his food, sleeping in his home. This dependency began to gnaw at her insides. She did not like feeling indebted to this man any more than she already was.

It was two months into the new year and spring was nearing when Brenna approached Heloise. She found her in the main hall, supervising her many servants while she skillfully worked a standing loom weighted with soap-stone, on which a beautiful bedcover was almost finished.

It galled Brenna that she must ask to work in order to feel less burdensome, but she had nowhere to go in this foreign land, and so was forced to stay here. Yet she could no longer do so without paying for her keep.

“Milady,” Brenna began reluctantly, “I cannot continue to accept your hospitality without some payment.”

“’Tis unnecessary, Brenna.”

“Nay, I feel ’tis most necessary. I am a burden in your house.”

“You are a freewoman and a guest, Brenna. Taking payment from a guest is unheard of.”

“Then I must leave here,” Brenna said adamantly, knowing her foolish pride was leading her on a course she could not alter.

Heloise frowned, shaking her head. “My husband said ’twould come to this.”

Brenna was momentarily taken aback. “How could he know that?”

“He prides himself on being able to predict your actions. He thinks of you as a Viking maid, where courage and pride reign uppermost.”

Brenna was nettled that she was so accurately speculated over, and more so that Anselm would relate her traits to his own people.

“So he knew I could not stay here long?”

“This is what he told me,” Heloise admitted, “though I could not believe you would be so rash as to leave here with nowhere to go.”

Her words stung Brenna. “I cannot help the way I am, milady. ’Tis my lot in life to be controlled by pride.”

“I know, Brenna, and I am sorry I criticized you. I once had pride like you, but I learned to temper it, as I hope you will one day.”

“I will leave on the morrow, and I thank you for my stay here.”

Heloise shook her head and smiled weakly. “If you are determined to do this, there is a house on our land where you may live until spring.”

Brenna was relieved and crushed at the same time. “Only until spring?”