Her Heart's Desire (6 page)

“What do you see, wife?” He managed to drag his eyelids open. “The poorly creature you pulled from the jarls' claws weeks ago?”

Her hands cupped either side of his face. “A man brave enough to save his sister and nephew from heartbreak, even at the risk of his own life. You are extraordinary.”

His tongue felt thick against his teeth. Her touch made it difficult to think. “Oaf-bread came to the assembly. Fat, ugly, great bearded swine.”

“I recall.” Idunna's voice was soft. Her hand moved to his shoulder near the wound. “Hella will punish him for his vain error. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake.”

He believed her as he hadn't believed anyone since Ealasaid swore they'd run across the
aos si
conducting fae business under the full moon at Suibhne.

Chapter Six

The arrival of the jarls didn't herald celebration any more than the last time they had come to Solstad. Bitter winds caused them to lean over their horse's necks and their cloaks to flutter like banners. None of the three or their escorts of warriors seemed pleased to be here.

Idunna dropped her gaze as the men made their way up the path to the hall. None spared her a passing glance, as though she were made of stone rather than flesh and blood. Their business was war, not pleasure.

Snow crunched behind her. An arm snaked around her shoulders. The sound of Eoghann's footsteps were so familiar, she didn't bother looking at him until he was right beside her. “You're supposed to be resting.”

He held her close as he surveyed the newcomers. “A brief walk from my bedchamber to the courtyard will hardly kill me.” His smile was more of a grimace. The cold brought out red apples of color on his cheeks. The rest of his face was pale and drawn. “They've come prepared to fight. Gatherings of lords and men with pointy sticks is a thing to worry about in Edinburgh.”

“No less so here.” She frowned. “It's too cold to linger outside. You'll catch a fever.”

“I was born in winter, did you know?”

She shook her head. “You didn't tell me before.”

“During a raging storm of ice and snow. Nearly all our livestock froze where they stood. The elders claimed it was the worst storm in fifty winters. When I was born, I had no breath. My skin was blue. The Kentigern grabbed me by the ankles, carried me outside and gave me a good thump across the arse. The very first breath I took was full of air colder than this. Cold enough to freeze your fingers off if you stayed out more than a few minutes. But the Kentigern held me up and looked straight into my eyes. He swore they went from a newborn's blue to the color they are now.”

Idunna laughed. “And had he been drinking to while away time until your birth?”

Eoghann smiled. “He was fond of a sweet mead.”

“I imagined as much. Come, Winter-born, anything worth hearing will be said in the hall, not in the courtyard. I supposed it would take Hella's elkhounds on guard to keep you from entering that room.”

“Vigr, Rifa, and ten more.” His humor faded. “I kept Hella from harm's way. It's my right to hear any plans they settle on regarding their intentions to make Ofbradh pay.”

Arguing with him would only increase his agitation. “We should hurry. They'll be presenting themselves to Hella and Ealasaid.”

The great hall was full of people. Larger than the one at Freysteinn, it seemed to contain every curious spectator in the village among the visiting warriors. Hella stood in front of his throne, grim-faced with his brows pushed together. His frown suggested he might kill the first person to utter a word against him.

He raised his hand. The chatter in the hall died. “Welcome. I am pleased you chose to place great importance on my message and joined us here.” He gestured at Erik. “Bring the prisoner.”

Erik shoved a large man into the room.

The prisoner grimaced as Erik twisted his arm.

“This is Feykir Bülow. He came uninvited to our village.” Hella jerked his thumb at the man. “Tell them your purpose here, Feykir.”

Idunna slipped her arm around Eoghann. He gave her a brief smile before he returned his attention to the front of the room.

Feykir hawked a glob of saliva on the stone floor. “I came because of Jarl Ofbradh Gjord's and loyalty to the king of Northumbria. There is only one Dane king in this land—Amlaíb Cuarán. It is an insult for Hella Ingvasson to call himself by the title.”

Hella glared at Feykir. “No communication came from Ofbradh save an attempt on my life. If not for the quick actions of Eoghann Kentigern, my blood would lay on the snow. I've seen bloodshed enough in the past weeks. I have no wish to battle with Ofbradh Gjord. My father, Ingvar, came to Northumbria from Jutland in search of new lands and new peoples to conquer. Conquer he did across the wild lands. From Saxons to Welshmen to Picts, he let no enemy stand. As his son and heir to his kingdom, I will not allow a jealous jarl to stomp across what is rightfully mine. Any jarl who has quarrel with my leadership is invited to argue his point in my hall, but there will be no further violence in my village.”

“May the false king rot under the blazing sun.” Feykir bared his teeth at Hella. “With blessings from Amlaíb, one of Ofbradh's men will cut you down. They will extinguish the line of Hella Ingvasson. You will see.”

Erik pushed Feykir out of the hall while the man shouted threats.

Idunna swallowed and dared a glance at Eoghann. His muscles were tense, coiled, hard as tree roots beneath her hand.

“I foster no mercy for a would-be killer,” he muttered.

If he'd borne a sword, he might have run Feykir through. Of course the other man deserved to die for spewing such nonsense about false kings and attempting murder. The crime had to be answered with a fitting punishment. Death already waited for Feykir. The goddess of the Underworld, Hel, had her arms wide open to receive him.

Hella commanded the hall's attention again. “When my father sailed from Jutland, fewer than one hundred followed. Single warriors and families, brave settlers who desired expansion. Upon reaching the Angle lands, King Aethelstan granted permission for new settlements. 'Go and prosper. Bring glory to your homelands,' he said. Ingvar found the land promising. Even some of the people willing and we've tied our blood with the natives in Northumbria.” Hella took Ealasaid's hand. “Although Ingvar ruled with his fist, the jarls beneath him received fair treatment. He rewarded the men who served him well, he punished those who did not and elevated men to take their places. He was a hard man, cruel even, but he kept the peace here. When he declared himself king, no one rose to stop him. Even Olaf Sihtricson, who calls himself Amlaíb Cuarán, once removed as Northumbria's ruler, made no move to push Ingvar from his throne. So I ask, who would remove me?”

The first person to raise his hand and protest Hella's position as king would die. Idunna bit the inside of her lip. Would anyone be so foolish?

The only sounds in the hall were of people shifting uneasily.

“Have you summoned us to put together an army? Will we band forces and push into Ofbradh's village to strip him of his earldom?” Falgierr, the jarl to their east, scratched his red beard. “I'm sorry for your troubles, Hella. They sound many, but it is winter and the marching will be hard going.”

The current jarl of Freysteinn stepped closer to Hella's throne. Tyrfingr Crookednose clapped Falgierr on the shoulder. “Battle would be unwise. By the time we reach Ofbradh's lands, our warriors will be exhausted from travel. Food stores must be preserved for the villages, not given to supply men on a battlefield of snow and ice.”

Nefr, oldest of the jarls, with a mostly gray beard and gnarled fingers that had perhaps been broken too many times, sneered. “Ofbradh knows you'll want revenge for what happened here. He meant to kill you, weaken your clan by removing leadership. In the harshest season of all, he'd strip your blood from Northumbria and take control. What is this talk of weary warriors arriving on his door stoop? Who here is weary?” He lifted his battle axe, threw his head back and roared. “Fuck Ofbradh and the diseased whores he calls warriors!”

Shouts rang throughout the room. Nefr, though old, seemed ready to spill more blood on the snows.

Hella waited for quiet. “I cannot claim what he did doesn't spike anger in my heart. Ofbradh must be removed from Ofan's halls. Preferably with his head removed from his shoulders as well, though reducing him to thrall status would suffice. Tyrfingr and Falgierr raise valid points. Winter is no time for fighting. We wish to wait it out with warm women in our beds, but I cannot let the threat stand. There must be action.”

“What sort?” Falgierr put his hands on his hips. “Send a mercenary of your own to remove him?”

“A fine idea.” Erik licked his finger and thumb, then ran them down the length of his drawn sword. “I volunteer to go.”

If anyone could sneak into Ofbradh's village and remove the man from authority, Erik would be the one to send. He was easily one of the most dangerous men in the room.

Eoghann broke from Idunna’s embrace. He moved forward through the crowd. “And me, Your Grace. If you require warriors to fight or merely a handful of men to see to the task, you have my service.”

Hella nodded. “I am pleased to hear it.”

Idunna grabbed Eoghann's uninjured arm. “You can't.”

“My loyalty to the king demands I do if he wishes it.” An edge of frost laced through his voice.

“Eoghann...”

His gaze flew back to Hella and his chin went up.

Foolish man.
Idunna folded her arms.

Hella held up his hands again. “There is no need for battle at this time. I would like a selection of men to ride with me to Ofan. We will commence reasonable discussion with Ofbradh about his actions. In the spirit of fellowship, we will return his bowman.”

The threat didn't go unnoticed. By return, he meant the man's head alone. Idunna shivered.

“The best strategy would be to take men from each settlement. A committee of warriors in good standing with your king who support his desire to remove Ofbradh's power. We shall depart in three days' time. Any man who wishes to march to Ofan, be here at dawn.”

Ealasaid bowed her head, but remained in place as Hella reclaimed her hand. Her unhappiness over her husband's decision was clear.

A similar disappointment spiraled through Idunna's chest. With a choice like the one Hella gave the men in the hall, Eoghann would no doubt join the warriors. The promises he made her were unimportant if he put Hella's wishes first.

She fled the hot, crowded room.

“Idunna, wait.”

Eoghann's voice didn't even give her pause. She loved the sound of her name on his lips, but for now, she couldn't bear it. Snow still piled ankle deep off the well-trudged paths. She fled across the dirty white expanse.

Her flight was interrupted by Eoghann snaring her in his embrace.

“Curse your long legs,” she spat.

He whirled her around to face him. “Aye, long legs and veins full of Saxon blood too. What else do you wish to curse?”

“Your stubborn pride.” She planted her hands against his stomach. “Let me go. If you wish to run off to Ofan on Hella's heels, you can find another woman to warm your bed at night.”

“You're drawing unneeded attention.” He lowered his face close to hers. “We can discuss this inside near a warm fire. Be sensible. No other wives are protesting so hard against their husbands' involvement.”

“Because many are widowed after the last fight. I've sacrificed one husband to bloody battle, nearly lost the second over a jealous jarl's games. Why should you willingly throw yourself into danger again? You're still injured. A trip overland won't be easy.”

He blew out a breath that turned into a white plume. “Thank you for your concern for my health. I've suffered far worse injuries and harsher circumstances.”

“Never with a wife waiting for you to return.” She pushed away from him. “You promised me a child.”

For a moment, his mouth moved soundlessly. He regained his composure. “I did, and for all we know, I've made good on that promise. You must practice patience to earn your reward.”

“What am I to do if there's no child and you get yourself killed?”

“Am I to believe you've never seen your own reflection?” His smile returned, boyish and full of amusement.

“What does that mean?”

“You're beautiful. There's not a man alive ignorant enough to miss it. You'll have suitors begging for your affection within a sennight if I fall on an enemy weapon.” He cupped her face, palms rough against her jawline. “Foolish woman. It would be any man's privilege to give you babies.”

“Ask would have argued—”

“He didn't know what he had. His loss.” Eoghann pressed his lips to hers.

She resisted. Sweet words did nothing to lessen her temper, but the warmth and closeness melted her icy resolve. The faint scent of burning wood lingered in his clothing and he tasted of mulled mead. A tremor of excitement rolled through her. Anger abated, giving away to hunger for his body.
Damn you, Eoghann, for making me care about you.
She kissed him back, then bit his upper lip, a sharp nip that made him pull away.

He rubbed his mouth, then grinned. “Was that the kiss of a man eager to leave his wife's bed to fight a battle?”

She could take his hand, lead him back to their bed, and put the afternoon's worries out of mind for a while. Tempting, though he'd put enough strain on himself chasing after her. “More the kiss of a man eager to get into his wife's bed before a battle. From her arms to a Valkyrie's.”

“What more could I ask for than a pleasant memory before marching toward doom?”

“Jest, Eoghann. Make light of my worry. I'm not pleased with any of this.”

“Any sane woman would feel the same. I'm sure Ealasaid is displeased with Hella as well.” He shivered and drew his cloak closer. “If he allows Ofbradh to go unpunished, he appears weak. I doubt his first choice is leaving Solstad for a place where he's unlikely to receive a warm welcome. Such is the hard decision of a king. The same can be said of the men loyal to him. I
don't
wish to leave you.”