Michelle Styles - Summer Of The Viking

‘Go. And you can tell any who asks that I’m helping Gode out with the garden.’

Merri gave a nod. ‘Don’t worry, I can keep a secret...even from you.’

‘And that is supposed to inspire me with confidence?’

Merri gave a cheeky smile. ‘Shall I get you some more water? Gode lets me do it when I visit her. When I return in the morning, he will be all better, you’ll see.’

The man seemed to go in and out of consciousness, sometimes helping to walk and sometimes needing to be dragged. She had serious doubts if he would last the night, but one glance at Merri’s earnest face told her that she could not confide that piece of information.

‘Get the water before you go.’

‘I could stay...if you needed help.’

‘I’m the one who takes the risk, Merri, not you. Remember, you weren’t with me this morning. And I wanted to tend Gode’s garden. No one will find that unusual.’

In the months before Theodbald’s death, Alwynn had often taken herself away to Gode’s cottage. She had created a garden there which no one could destroy in a fit of temper as Theodbald had done when she had lost the baby she’d been carrying.

‘But he is my warrior.’

‘Now he is my responsibility.’ Alwynn gestured with her free hand. ‘Off with you. Sooner I have the water, the sooner you can tell Purebright the good news. And later you may return and see for yourself how he fares.’

‘As long as he doesn’t leave before I can say goodbye...’ Merri called as she ran to get a bucket from the well.

Alwynn unceremoniously placed the man on the narrow bench outside. Leave before Merri could say goodbye? Alwynn shook her head. She had no idea if he would last the night. But she knew she wanted him to.

Sweat poured down her face and her gown stuck to her back as she tried to get the feeling back into her arm. The sun hadn’t even reached noon and she was exhausted.

Her mind reeled from thinking about him dying. She had to do everything she could to save his life. And it didn’t have to do with him; she’d do it for anyone. A small piece of her heart called her a liar—there had been something in his eyes which touched her heart. And when his finger pressed against her lips, she had felt as if she was made of precious glass.

Merri rushed back with the water and a jug of small beer and then ran off again, chattering about how beautiful Purebright was.

Alwynn smiled. Only Merri could think that stubborn grass-munching fiend on four hooves beautiful. She poured a wooden beaker of small beer and handed it to the warrior, who immediately opened his eyes. The creases about his mouth were less pronounced. And his skin now no longer had a blue tinge to it. Alwynn tried to look at him with a dispassionate healer’s eye, but somehow she couldn’t.

She had no problems growing the herbs, but when it came to people, she found it impossible to keep her emotions out.

‘Drink. You are safe now. You can rest and regain your strength. No one comes here.’

‘Thank you.’ His brows drew together. ‘I don’t want to put other people in danger, particularly not you or your stepdaughter. I appreciate the risk you took for me back there on the beach.’

Something eased in her neck. Unlike many of the warriors she’d encountered, this one noticed people beyond the end of his nose. She had originally thought warriors held special place and that was why they were arrogant. It was good to meet one who wasn’t.

‘It is only strangers from the sea who are feared,’ she explained. ‘Not strangers from other lands. The men from the North...they come from the sea.’

His eyes became more shadowed and she wondered if the Northmen plagued his country as well. Silently she repeated everything she knew about Northmen and their ways. This man wasn’t one of them. She was sure of it.

‘I know how the Northmen travel.’

‘Then you understand why it is necessary to be careful.’

As he took the wooden beaker, their hands briefly brushed. Another distinct tremor of attraction went through her. She withdrew her hand too quickly and spilled the beer down his front.

All those years with Theodbald’s damp hands and crude manner and she’d felt nothing. She’d been convinced that there was something wrong with her. She couldn’t even do as Gode had suggested—to think of some handsome saint and pretend. Instead she had felt like a lump of wood and lain completely still, hoping against hope that it would soon be over. Now it was like that lump of wood was covered in little flames.

It should frighten her, but somehow it was also exciting.

After years of being the good daughter and the good wife, she was finally doing something forbidden.

‘I will get you some more.’ She hurriedly refilled the wooden beaker. ‘And something to mop up the spill. Clumsy of me.’

This time she kept her fingers well away from his.

His deep brown gaze held hers. He made a slight bow. ‘Thank you. And you are right. I need to wash the salt off.’

Unbidden, her mind supplied a picture of his muscular torso. She turned away, aware that her cheeks blazed like an unwed maiden, rather than the woman who had endured more than five years of marriage and who knew what passed between a man and a woman, even if she couldn’t understand why anyone would get excited about it. ‘It can wait...until you have recovered. I will go and prepare a place for you to sleep.’

‘Your cottage?’

‘My old nurse’s. No one except me or Merri comes here these days.’ She knew she spoke far too fast, a bad habit from when she was small. She paused and took a deep breath. ‘You will be able to heal in peace.’

He nodded. ‘If anyone does come here, I didn’t come from the sea.’

‘Yes, you understand my meaning.’ She pressed her hands together. ‘There is something about lying which sticks in my throat.’

‘You found me on the shore, not bobbing in the sea. Therefore you have no real idea how I arrived there.’

‘It doesn’t take much imagination to guess.’

‘You are not breaking any law if you don’t actually know,’ he said quietly.

‘Is it better not to know?’

‘Sometimes.’

She caught a faint twinkle in his eye. His eyes were not just brown, but full of many colours. And they had come alive after his drink. She heaved a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to die after all. ‘Is your country Raumerike at war with mine?’

‘I have never made war on your country.’ He pressed his hand to his chest. ‘I, Valdar, son of Neri, swear this. My solemn oath I give you.’

‘That isn’t what I asked...Valdar.’ The name sounded strange to her ears, but not unpleasant.

He pursed his lips. ‘My country has no quarrel with yours. Why would it? We have a sea separating us.’

The back of her neck prickled. He had come across the sea like the raiders, but he had come in peace. ‘And the attack on Lindisfarne by the heathen Northmen?’

His face instantly sobered. ‘I have heard of it. The whole world has heard about it. They took the gold and gave nothing but destruction in return. I have always believed it is wrong to make war on people who are not your enemies and have not harmed you. A simple creed, but I believe the right one.’

Something eased in her heart. She was doing the right thing—keeping his existence hidden and giving him a chance to heal.

He might be a foreigner, but he hadn’t come to make war against her people or to raid. Merri was right—he wasn’t a Northman. He was something else entirely. She released a breath. She wasn’t going to save him just to have Lord Edwin kill him. He was innocent and therefore he deserved a chance to return to his country.

‘Thank you for that creed.’