Ragnar the Just (Ragnar the Dane #3) (5 page)

“So, you say you are
argr
. What does this mean?”

“Effeminate, woman-like, lusting
after a man.”

“What is wrong with that? If you like a man, it is how it is. It is part of life.”

“Not Danish life. You can be killed for being
argr
, believe me. It would be a massive insult if people found out. It could ruin his reputation.”

She shrugged.
“So what of Lini?
Does he like you too?”

“I
doubt it! I could never ask him.
I’d be killed.
Or exiled.
Or both.”
He gave a small laugh.

“That is better.”

“Anyway, what are you doing at the lake at this hour?”

“I am collecting the evening primrose flower. It only comes out now and I need it for medicine.”

He nodded, not knowing what she was talking about.

“I shall ask Lini if he likes you.”

“What? No! Weren’t you
listening? He’d be insulted and …
”

“I can be subtle.” She smiled obstinately. “I will find out. Do not worry.”

“Just remember both Lini and I could be killed if people know about this.”

What was he thinking, trusting this dark, foreign woman?

Why had he poured out his heart to her?

*
 
*
  *

A few days later, Ifay went round to Lini’s house. Their slave was at the front, looking after the baby and toddler as they played in the dirt with wooden toys made by their father.

“Hallo, Ndulu.” Ifay knew the girl fr
om their slave passage together a year
ag
, and spoke in their native language. “Is Halldora at home? I want to speak to her about my baby.” She pointed to her belly.

“You are so lucky, Ifay. You have found a gentle, kind man to marry you and give you babies. I wish I could find one.”

“Stay here and work hard, and you will find one, too. I must speak to Halldora.  Please.”

Ndulu motioned with her hand to enter the house, so Ifay went to the door and
peered in.
To her dismay, the distinctive sounds of a man and woman having sex reached her ears, but she crept in to make sure. The lean figure of Lini moved on top, thrusting, so she hurried out.

Now what would her plan be? He obviously liked his wife, but did he like Kjartan? She felt sorry for Bjarni’s white-blond friend and wanted to help him, so for a few days she thought about what to do. The days dragged until her baby would be born, so she welcomed the distraction of matchmaking.

*
 
*
  *

Ifay bumped into Lini by the stream a week later. He was just sitting there, staring at the water, shoulders hunched, fiddling with a twig. He turned at her approach,
then
slumped back.

“I have a message for you, from Kjartan.”

His face lit up, then returned to unhappiness.

“What?”

“He wants to meet you tonight by the broken tree at the source of the stream.”

“Oh. Did he say anything else?”

“No, I just pass
on
the message.”

He smiled and she hurried away to her tasks. It was normal in her homeland for men to have loving relationships, but in this cold, rainy country people behaved in peculiar ways.

She went to Kjartan, who was sitting
outside his house, drinking ale. B
leats and snorts of the sheep that were being sheared carried over from the fields on the clear summer day. The heavy clouds and mugginess of a week ago had now passed and the air felt much fresher.

“I have spoken to Lini. He wants to meet you.”

“Why?”

“I do not have much time.”

She briefly explained the details of the meeting and hurried off again. Kjartan smiled after her. At the least he could genuinely apologise to Lini an
d they could be on good terms, e
ven though he’d keep out of his way after that. He still dreamed about him, but that was as far as it would go.

*
 
*
  *

Kjartan set off jauntily for the moonlit meeting. It would all be well. It was just a passing fancy of his; he was always having
those. He owed Lini an apology
but he didn’t have to explain himself.

There he was, waiting, his short cloak wrapped round him for warmth.

“I’m sorry I fought you.  I was being too violent. I’m used to fighting other soldiers, not civilians, and I just got carried away. I’m sorry.” Kjartan reeled off his prepared speech, watching L
ini’s handsome, expressive face
which was strangely pale and drawn.

“Well, I’m sorry I punched you.” His voice was not much louder than a whisper.

“I still think I -
I’d better get someone else to help me with the f-fight training.” Kjartan’s voice shook however hard he tried to control it.

“Alright.”

Kjartan bowed slightly to him
and turned to leave.

“Thanks, anyway.” Lini’s quiet voice stopped him and he turned back.

“Thanks?”

“At least I know better how to defend myself.”

“Yes. You did pretty well, considering how hard I was att
acking you.” He gazed at Lini. T
hey both had the beginnings of a smile.

“I’ll see you around, yes?”

“I expect so, when we aren’t busy.”

They still stood gazing at each other.

Lini held out his hand.
“To seal our forgiveness.”

Kjartan took it
and found it was shaking. Normally he despised weak handshakes but this time he wanted to
be reassuring
, so he squeezed the hand to steady it. Lini gasped and stroked his fingers, gazing into his eyes. No one had ever looked at him like that before.

Kjartan’s
body took the decision for him -
it didn
’t care about social convention -
so he pulled Lini towards him and kissed him, their tongues
and teeth clashing in urgency. A
h, that gap in his teeth at last.

Holding each other tightly, they kissed for a long time, trembling with lust. The full moon shone down, lighting everything in silver
,
and even the warrior’s white-blond hair appeared paler than usual.

Pausing for breath, Lini put his head on Kjartan’s shoulder with relief. Kjartan opened his mouth to speak but no words
came out, so he stroked his companion’s soft, tawny hair and nuzzled his ear, wrapping his long cloak around them both.

“What do we do now?” Lini muttered into his neck.

“Well ...
” He chuckled, imagining what he wanted to do to his new lover.

“I meant, we can
’t let anyone know about this o
r we’ll get beaten to death every day.”

“Every day?
How many lives have you got?” Light-headed, Kjartan laughed.

“You know what I mean.”

“We’ll just have to keep it a secret.” Kjartan set his jaw. “You’re not just pretending to like me, are you?”

“Of course not!
Are you?”

“No. I just risked everything kissing you, for Odin’s sake.”

“I thought you despised me.” Lini looked up. “I thought you
knew I wanted you
and that’s why you attacked me that time.”

“I thought you realised I wanted you. I’ve been dreaming about you. I thought you somehow knew.”

They laughed, Lini’s breath tickling Kjartan’s cheek.

“So why did you want to meet me here?”

“I didn’t. I thought you wanted to meet me.”

“Who told you I did?”

“Ifay.”

They paused, beginning to smile.

“Looks like we owe her.”

“We can thank her later.” Kjartan kissed him again for a long time,
then
they crawled into the bushes in case someone saw them.

*
 
*
  *

Waking up with a start, Kjartan hastily felt for his sword and spear. Why weren’t they close by? Where was he? A bir
d’s liquid warble made him jump
and he realised he was cuddle
d up to Lini under the blanket-
like undergrowth near the stream. Tiny shafts of sunlight made their way through the branches, lighting the craftsman’s face.

Kjartan smiled at his beauty. His hair was honey-blond, normally worn in a plain tail at the back
,
but after last night, most had come loose from its binding and tangled round his face and neck. Although his eyelids were shut, he knew his eyes were the ho
t blue of the sky at midsummer.
At nineteen, his facial hair was still fuzzy and sparse, his smooth
and unblemished skin a darker tan than Kjartan’s. There were only two y
ears between them
but he felt much older, jaded and cynical. His life had been full of fighting and drinking, getting into
trouble, and Lini’s was full of -
what? Peace, amber work, family? He looked forward to finding out.

They’d spent hours the night before kissing a lot and talking a little, so it was no wonder they’d fallen asleep in the small private den. It was as if the bushes had grown into a hideaway out of sympathy.

He continued gazing at Lini. His left arm ached with pins and needles but he didn’t want to move it from under Lini’s shoulders and wake him. It was too late though, as his cobalt eyes opened and he smiled.

“You’re so handsome,” he whispered, blushing.

Kjartan chuckled. “I was just thinking the same about you. But I’m not handsome. I’ve been in too many fights. Look.” He indicated the deep scar on his cheek, partly covered by white-blond beard.

“Where did you get that?”

“Ragnar gave it to me when I framed him for murdering Eadbald.”

“Suppose you deserved it
,
then. But you won’t do that anymore, no?” He smiled trustingly.

Kjartan paused, his pale eyebrows knitted together.
“S’pose not.”

Seeing the sunlight, Lini gasped and sat up.
“We’ve been out all night. What will our wives think?”

Kjartan shook his arm out to rid it of the tingling. “We’ll have to make something up to tell them.”

*
 
*
  *

Lini and Kjartan walked separately back to their homes.

“Wh
ere have you been?” asked a red-
eyed Mildrith when her husband walked in. “I was worried sick. The ba
by was kicking me all night too
and I didn’t get a wink of sleep. Now I have to get up and do all the work.”

“I’m sorry
, ketta.
I went out drinking with my friends and fell asleep.” He hugged her, feeling the difference between her curvy, round body and Lini’s lean, hard one. He couldn’t stay out all night again like that. He must be careful. “Why don’t you go to bed and sleep? I’ll tidy up.”

“You don’t know what to do. It’s a woman’s job.”

“Go to bed. I’ll work it out.” He wanted to be alone to think.

When she’d settled down under the covers, snoring, he flopped down on the chair. His head was still spinning
from the night before. Lini was -
he couldn’t
even think of the right words - b
eautiful, handsome, attractive, hard, lean,
muscly
: all of those. He’d never fe
lt like this about a man before,
or had he? Bjarni’s good looks had always disturbed him, but he’d just assumed he felt jealous, and there wasn’t time to think about his emotions. Bjarni was just one of those attractive people everyone noticed and admired.

Had he just been ignoring thoughts like that because they were unacceptable, embarrassing,
even
dangerous? It seemed Lini felt the same way about him, though.

He sighed and began folding the pile of clothes on the tabl
e. No good would come of this, b
ut everything he’d ever done in life had been questionable, and it hadn’t stopped him before.

*
 
*
  *

Lini was greeted at home by his children, Thora and Kori, who were one and two winters old respectively.