Steinn Page 8

  “Gladys!”

  “Steinn.” Her face appeared over the edge, a halo of sunshine circling it.

  “My love, do not come too close, the ground may take you as well.”

  “Are you…are you able to get up?”

  “I don’t know.” He glanced around. There were a few foot holes and rocks to grip on. Chances were he’d be able to climb out. He may have to sacrifice his sword to do so—it was heavy, but he’d try to save it. “Go and get help, from the village.”

  When he looked up again, she’d already gone. He knew she’d run swiftly and return with his Viking friends. Though with a bit of luck, he’d manage to get out before they arrived.

  Gladys raced towards the village, holding her gown up and dodging tree roots and boulders. Her head was spinning, her heart lurched with each step, and her breaths rasped on her throat.

  What have I done?

  The wave of remorse had shocked her as much as it had likely shocked Steinn when he’d fallen down the hole. She’d sent a man to his death in an evil, callous way. Dropped him into Hell, his body never to be found.

  God will never forgive me.

  I’ll never forgive myself.

  On and on she ran, wishing she hadn’t wandered so far into the forest in the first instance.

  She had to pause at the clearing, tip forward, and rest her hands on her thighs while she dragged in breath. Her chest burned with the exertion, and her hands trembled.

  She didn’t like her husband. She resented his being here and his possession of her body—though that hadn’t been all bad. But to kill him…

  The snake.

  Oh, and he’d come after her even though he was suffering from the effects of a snakebite. A snake she had secreted into his boot and had also hoped would kill him.

  She stood tall, steepled her hands beneath her chin, and stared up at the perfect blue sky. “Oh Lord, have mercy on my soul.”

  How could she have behaved so terribly? With such a cold, dark, evil heart? Aye, evil.

  The other women in the village seemed to have accepted their lot with good grace, gratefulness even. Why did she always have to be so resistant to help and change? Why did she feel, deep in her core, that anyone who wasn’t from her land was less of a human?

  It was wrong to feel that way. God had created all his children equal. God loved everyone, including the Vikings who were nothing but a bunch of dumb pagans.

  “Gladys!” She scolded herself, the sound of her name swirling upwards. “This has to stop. Now.” She stared into the sky, imagining God seeing her through this hole in the trees. He’d be hoping she could stop her prejudice thoughts and downright mean actions. “I promise to do better,” she said. “Truly I do.”

  She blew out a breath and looked ahead, at the path to the village.

  Watching her with big brown eyes was a young bear cub. Its fur shimmered in the sunshine, and its little round ears were pricked forward.

  Fear shot into her veins.

  It twitched its nose. Curiosity sent its oversized paws forward on the mossy path as it came closer.

  It wasn’t the cub Gladys was afraid of.

  It was the mother.

  And judging by the shift of leaves behind her, a protective parent wasn’t far away.

  This is my penance.

  Gulping, she turned.

  Not ten feet away was a huge female bear. She had a scar over her nose—three pale, furless lines—and her brown coat matched the dusky shadows of the trees.

  The situation couldn’t be worse. Gladys had unwittingly come between one of the most protective mothers on God’s earth and her cub.

  “I’m not going to hurt him,” she said, taking a step to the right. “I promise.”

  Perhaps she could climb a tree.

  It’ll climb up after me.

  “Good bear,” she said, taking another step with no real plan other than to get away. Fighting wasn’t an option.

  The huge female opened her mouth, showcasing a terrifyingly impressive set of teeth and a flat pink tongue marked with black patches. It roared, the sound deafening. It sent primal terror through Gladys. It was hard to think straight, hard to focus.

  I’m going to die. Mauled to death. My guts spilled.

  “Stay away,” she whispered and gripped her dagger. It was a poor weapon against an animal with thick fur and tough skin. Haps she’d be lucky and get a hit to the eye.

  The roar ended, and the bear lowered its head. The cub walked past her, to its mother.

  For a moment she hoped that would appease the creature, but instead it roared again and scraped the dirt with it’s long claws.

  But as the noise drew to an end—an end she was sure would signal the beginning of her death—another bellowing roar rushed from the forest. It seemed to shake the trees, rumble through the ground, and vibrate through her body.

  She turned. As did the bears.

  A mountain of a man, bare torso, and headband, was stomping their way. He was swinging a sword in one hand and an axe in the other. The noise and energy he generated filled the clearing.

  “Steinn!”

  He ignored her, instead gaining on the bear, his mouth wide, teeth and tongue showing as his volume level increased. The sword spun, whooshing through the air.

  The bear took a step towards him, then bunched its back legs and raised upwards, towering into the sky. It, too, roared.

  “Get out of here,” Steinn yelled, then set up his wild crying again. It was so deep and animal-like, Gladys wondered if he had bear in his blood.

  She backed up, towards a tree, but her attention was fixated on the bear.

  Although she was thankful for Steinn’s sudden appearance, and the fact he’d diverted the bear’s focus from her, she was now scared for him. She didn’t want him to die. How could she ever atone for her wrongs if he was killed now, by this bear?

  Stumbling, she looked downwards at a pile of heavy, round lichen-peppered stones. Quickly, she picked two up. She threw them at the bear, each one landing on its side.

  Steinn was close to the bear now. One lunge, and he could slaughter it. Or at least try.

  With sudden determination, she set up a barrage of stony projectiles. Most of them hit, and when one landed on the bear’s head, the creature dropped back to all four paws.

  Steinn waved his axe at the bear. “Go, go to your cub!” He leaned forward and roared.

  The bear took a step backwards as if unsure of this huge wild human before her.

  Gladys continued to pelt her with stones.

  Steinn whacked his axe against the sword, and the deafening twang of metal on metal rang around the clearing.

  This appeared to make up the mother bear’s mind. She turned, head down, and loped in the direction her cub had taken off in. Within seconds, her round behind had vanished into the undergrowth.

  Steinn lowered his sword and tucked his axe into his belt. He was breathing hard.

  Gladys dropped the stone she was holding. Her hands were shaking, her chest tight. She wondered if her breakfast was about to make an appearance.

  “I didn’t want to kill her,” Steinn said, using his sword to point at the spot where the bear had stood. “She had a cub. I’d be killing two bears I had no need for.”

  “How did you…?” She stared at him. “How did…?”

  “They hate noise. They also don’t like anything bigger than them.” He shrugged and resheathed his sword. “It’s just a case of sending them on their way, unless, of course, their meat and fur is needed.”

  Her teeth clattered, and her belly clenched. She folded her arms and held herself tight.

  “That hole wasn’t easy to get out of,” he said, walking towards her with a slight limp. “Glad I didn’t lose my sword. Chasing off that bear would have been harder with just an axe.”

  “The hole.”

  “Ja, the hole I fell down.” He tugged his lips into a downwards crescent. “Dangerous places lurk in this forest. That is w
hy, wife, I do not wish you alone here.” He stopped in front of her. A smear of mud crossed his left cheek and onto the bridge of his nose. “You are too important to me, too special to be at such risk.”

  The tremble in her belly went to her knees. She staggered a little, her head feeling light.

  “Gladys.” His arms were around her. “All is well. I am not dead, and the bear has gone.”

  “It’s not that.” She gripped his arms, his skin hot and stretched taut over his biceps.

  “Then what?” He frowned and brushed her hair from her face. “You have gone as white as a midwinter moon.”

  “I…I have something to tell you.”

  “About what?” He touched the tip of his nose to hers.

  “About some things I have done.” She paused. “I am deeply ashamed.”

  “There is nothing you could have done which will stop me loving you, in this life and the next. You are the other half of my soul.”

  11

  Gladys stared up at her not-so-ugly husband. Did he really love her so deeply, so unconditionally? It seemed he did. She could see it in the depths of his eyes. He truly believed his gods had set their destinies together for all of time. This was their grand plan—for them to unite as husband and wife.

  Haps it is God’s plan, too.

  She drew in a shaky breath.

  “Tell me,” he said, cupping her chin. “And then we will go home.”

  “Home.”

  “Ja, to our home. Where it is safe and warm and we have some stores and will soon have many more to see us through the long, cold nights of winter.”

  She glanced away, then set her attention back on his face. “I have not been as welcoming as I should have been…to you.”

  He was silent, but a ghost of a smile played with his mouth.

  “I…the salt in your water, it was not a tradition. I did it to be mean.”

  “Mean. To me?” He raised his eyebrows. “Mean to your husband.”

  She nodded. “I am sorry.”

  He hesitated then, “Ja, go on.”

  She swallowed. “And the ants in your...” She couldn’t bring herself to say the next words.

  “They were bad ants with fire in them. Do not blame yourself for that.”

  “No, there were no ants, I did it. I rubbed nettles into the leather, so you’d itch and be stung.”

  Oh, I am terrible.

  A deep line went across his brow, just beneath his headband. “That was mean and very uncomfortable. Why would you do that?”

  “Because I didn’t want you in my house.”

  “But I am your husband. It is right that we live together in our house.”

  “I understand that now. But, Steinn…don’t you see what a shock it was for me.”

  “A shock?”

  “Aye, for a long time I have mourned Angus. I have missed him every day. Then you are here suddenly, and I am told to marry you. I had no choice but to marry you.”

  “You said the nuptial words. You could have kept your mouth shut.” He made a slicing motion over his lips and pressed them together.

  “I couldn’t. Eithne had made a deal, and I was part of that deal. Me marrying you was part of the plan to safeguard the village from our attackers.”

  His hands slipped from her shoulders, down her arms, and he stepped away. Gripping the handles of his weapons, he turned his back on her.

  “Steinn.” She stared at the wide expanse of his shoulder blades, the deep gutter of his spine, and his tapered waist. His waistband sat low, exposing the dimples at the base of his back and the first curve of his buttocks. “I am sorry.”

  “Sorry you married me, ja, I see that now.” He huffed. “You are sorry that I am your husband.”

  “No, not anymore. It’s as if God has opened my eyes. Us being married is a good thing.”

  He pulled in a deep breath, his ribs expanding, and looked up at the sky. “Your god has opened your eyes?”

  “Aye.” She reduced the distance between them. “And now I am grateful that you are my husband. You are a brave Viking warrior, and…and your ears are not all that big after all.”

  He turned.

  She hoped he’d smile.

  He didn’t.

  “What else did you do, Gladys?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “I don’t know, do I?”

  “I am ashamed to tell you.” She studied a small stone on the ground by her boot.

  He stroked the back of his thumb down her cheek and sighed. “Then haps you shouldn’t. Not today.”

  “When?”

  “When I have got used to the idea that my wife played such tricks on me.” He nipped her chin, quite tightly, enough to leave a bruise, and tipped her head. “Tricks that escalated and were painful and, unless the last one wasn’t of your doing, could have seen me lost to the ground forever.”

  A sob bubbled up in her chest. He knew it all. She didn’t need to tell him about the snake and the pit. Steinn might have a quick smile and an even temper, but he wasn’t stupid. She’d been foolish to think he was.

  “I am truly sorry. Can you ever forgive me?” Tears welled on her lower lids then overspilled.

  He watched them track down her cheeks.

  Through a watery blur, she stared into his eyes. The green of the forest glen caught in the blue of his irises, creating a mystical shade that reminded her of the sea in the rocky coves north of Achnaryrie.

  “Can I ever forgive you,” he repeated quietly. “Do you want me to?”

  “Aye, I do. And…” She hiccupped, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “And I will make it up to you, I promise.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “I will…I will be a good wife, the best wife in the village.” She nodded. “Aye, and I will cook delicious meals for you every night. I will pour your mead, tend your needs, wash your clothes and—”

  “Enough. I am not helpless, woman.”

  “I know that.” She closed her eyes, hoping to stem the flow of tears.

  “Though I will appreciate your loving attention.” He kissed each of her cheeks in turn, as though tasting her regret.

  “Steinn,” she murmured, resting her hands on his chest. “Please say you can forgive me.”

  “I can.”

  She opened her eyes.

  “For did we not say for better and for worse to each other during our nuptials?”

  “Aye, we did.”

  “And this is you at your worst, am I right?”

  She nodded, shame heating her core and making her skin tingle. “I will never behave that way again.”

  He paused, then, “I believe you.”

  “You do?”

  “Ja.” He caught her mouth and fed her a deep, hot kiss.

  She twisted her tongue with his and drank in his taste. Her husband was handsome and clever and had a good, kind heart. What more could she ask for in a man? She was truly grateful, truly penitent and she would never hurt him again, not for as long as she lived.

  Eventually, he pulled back, though he kept her encased in his arms. “It is time to return home.”

  “Aye.” She nodded.

  “And hope we don’t encounter more bears because that will delay my next job.”

  “Your next job?”

  “Ja.” He slipped his hand around her waist. “The job of disciplining a wife who thinks it is acceptable to put herself in danger by journeying into the forest alone.”

  Gladys clenched her buttocks. She didn’t know why his words surprised her. A spanking was probably the least she deserved.

  “You will take it with dignity?” he asked.

  She looked at her boots again and nodded. “Aye, husband, I will.”

  “Good. Now come, this way.”

  They set off at a pace that was comfortable for Steinn’s still painful foot. The spanking or her bad behaviour wasn’t mentioned again. Instead, he regaled her with stories of his trip to Francia, telling her of t
he people he’d met and the things he’d seen. Gladys couldn’t imagine such magnificence as he described Paris to be, or how the people there spoke and traded with such exotic flamboyancy.

  “Would you like to go back?” she asked.

  “Haps one day. Haps I’ll take you.” He kissed the side of her head. “We have many adventures in our future, Gladys, if you want them.”

  “I think I do.” She gestured to the village coming into sight. “I think I would like to see what lies beyond this land, this ocean, one day.”

  “If that is a dream you have, then I will see it comes true.”

  “You know something, husband.”

  He smiled down at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “What?”

  “I believe you are already making my dreams come true.”

  He laughed. “How warm you have become, wife. I feared your ice would never melt.”

  “My ice?”

  “Ja, the ice around your heart. The glacier that is your tongue.”

  “I deserve that.” She sighed. “But rest assured, it is beginning to thaw, where you are concerned anyway. I’m not sure about these other heathens.” She nodded at the central fire where a group of villagers—women, and Vikings—sat around talking and working.

  “Mmm, let’s see if you still think that when I have punished you, wife. Perhaps you will not be so fond of me then.”

  “I ken what a spanking feels like.”

  “This will be a spanking with a difference.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It is time for you to learn some of the exotic delights the French indulge in.”

  Gladys didn’t know what to say to that, so she kept her mouth closed and entered their home.

  Steinn paused to shut the door.

  He then removed his belt holding the axe and sword. With a bump he sat, grimaced, and tugged off his left boot.

  Gladys washed her hands then twisted a drying cloth between her palms as he examined the two small fang marks. His foot was still swollen, but the skin wasn’t as stretched and shiny as it had been.

  “I got rid of it,” he said, gesturing to the set of drawers in the corner. “The snake.”