Harper George - One Night With The Viking

Her heart sank. Nay, Edda, not him. Edda was the only one who had begun to suspect that she was with child. Kadlin had caught the maid sneaking glances at her waistline more than once in the weeks since her morning sickness had begun. No one else had even bothered to question her chastity, but the girl had every reason to suspect. That very morning, she had come in late with Kadlin’s washing water, knowing that Kadlin would still be abed. Edda had looked dishevelled and flushed, making Kadlin wonder if she’d just come from a lover.

She took a step backwards and couldn’t stop her eyes from cutting as harsh as her words. ‘Do you think bedding my servant will make you more appealing to me, Baldr?’

He laughed, a short hissing of breath that barely escaped his chest, and took slow steps towards her. He stopped just before her and reached to touch her hand, a lock of glossy, dark hair falling across his forehead. ‘Men bed her because her beauty is second only to yours. But you must know that they also do it because they know it’s as close as they’ll get to bedding you.’ His fingertips trailed from her hand to the expanse of flesh exposed above the bodice of her gown.

She jerked away, causing his smile to widen. ‘But that isn’t really true any more, is it? Someone bedded you and now his seed has taken root.’

‘You’re depraved.’

‘I want you as my wife, Kadlin, even with that bastard in you. I’ll accept it as my own. That’s more than you’ll get from anyone else. More than you’ve got from the bastard’s own father.’

Those words cut a little too close to the truth. ‘Leave my sight!’ The infant startled at her harsh words and then began to cry. She held him tighter to her chest, but didn’t take her eyes from the man before her. ‘I will never want you, Baldr. Never!’

He glanced behind her to the others who had surely noted her outburst. ‘It matters not what you want, Kadlin. If it’s the jarl’s wish, you’ll accept me into your life.’ His lustful gaze raked her body before settling on hers again. ‘And into your bed.’ With that promise, he turned on his heel and left.

Fingers shaking with a mixture of anger and fear, she handed the baby over to her mother only moments later. She was out of time. Her father would know before nightfall and she had no idea what to do. The worst of it was that she couldn’t even dispute what Baldr had said. Gunnar wouldn’t acknowledge their child. He didn’t want them.

Ignoring her mother’s questions, she ran all the way back to the longhouse and shut herself inside her chamber where she gave in to the despair that had threatened her all along. And waited for the summons she was certain would come from her father.

* * *

It came later that night.

‘What have you done?’

It was the second time her father had asked that question, but she still had no answer for him. She stood just inside the door of her parents’ chamber; it was closed tight behind her to keep the conversation as confidential as possible in such close quarters. The only sounds were the sighs of the baby sleeping peacefully on the bed and her mother’s soft sobs from her chair beside her father. Seeing the tears on her mother’s cheeks made her throat ache with her own unshed tears.

‘What man did this to you?’

She risked another glance at the face she held so dear, only it wasn’t the kind face of the father she cherished. His cheeks were aflame with his fury, and his greying, golden hair was dishevelled, as if he’d raked through it with his hands countless times. Everyone said that he indulged her, that he favoured her too much, and perhaps they were right because she’d never seen him so angry.

‘Leif, calm yourself. Can’t you see that she’s afraid?’ Her mother’s soft voice broke the tension and she held out her hand to Kadlin, but Kadlin couldn’t make her feet move her forward to accept it.

The jarl cursed under his breath and raked a hand through his hair. When he looked up at Kadlin, the anger had receded a fraction, replaced with concern. ‘Were you forced?’

Kadlin shook her head and found her voice. ‘Nay, Father, I was not forced.’

‘So it’s true.’ He sighed as if he’d been hoping that the information he’d been given was wrong. ‘Seduced, then?’

Again she shook her head, nay.

The anger returned. ‘Give me his name.’

‘What will a name do? He’s gone, across the sea with everyone else.’

‘Oh, Kadlin.’ Her mother brought a hand up to cover her lips as she processed those words before continuing. ‘Why? If there is someone you favoured you could have come to us and we could have arranged a marriage before he left.’

Addressing her mother, she spoke evenly. ‘Because you would not have arranged a marriage for us so easily. And because I wasn’t even certain of him myself. I hadn’t seen him in years.’

The jarl shook his head. ‘I have brought countless men before you and you’ve eschewed them all. All of them! Even Eirik. And you ask me what will a name do? I want to know this paragon of masculinity who stole your good sense and virginity when not one of the men I brought before you even turned your head. A name, Kadlin.’

She drew herself up to her full height and took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if her father could kill him now, and besides, he was gone, never to return. She would never see him again, never touch him, never laugh with him. The ache in her throat threatened to choke off her words when she spoke. ‘It was Gunnar. Gunnar is the father of my child.’

Her parents sat in a stunned silence that was only broken when her mother broke down into sobs again. Her father was unnaturally still before he finally spoke. ‘You gave yourself to a bastard?’

‘He is acknowledged, Father. It’s not as if he’s without a family. Besides, he cannot be blamed for the manner in which he was conceived. I want to marry him.’ Nay, that wasn’t right. Not any more. When would she learn to think of him as part of her past? ‘I wanted to marry him. I don’t know why this comes as such a surprise. As a child, I spoke often of marrying him. But it’s been years since I’ve seen him and I needed to see him again to be sure.’

But her father shook his head. ‘Kadlin...he is not for you. Aye, his father has acknowledged him and raised him, but he has no future. No lands, no place in the world except to swing a blade and count his treasure.’

‘Aye, Father, that’s right. He has treasure from his excursions. He leads his own ship. He has the means to support me and a family. Why was he such a bad choice?’ Not that it mattered now with him long gone, but she couldn’t stop the unreasonable well of anger that rose within her. If her father had sanctioned her choice all along, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. Perhaps they could have married years ago.

‘Why was he such a bad choice? Tell me this, Daughter. Where would you live with him? Does he have a home? A hall to keep you warm in the winter, a place to keep your children protected as they grow? He is not that type of man, Kadlin. He’s transient. He lives on only what his father’s good conscience has provided for him and when that ends he will pass his winters in hovels or whatever place he has managed to come by through pillaging, where he will live in constant fear of being killed. And one day he will be killed and what do you suppose would become of you? You would be passed to the next man in line, or perhaps taken as a triumph of his murderer, and you would live with him until he, too, is killed and so on and so forth until you, too, are gone. By then your children will have been scattered to the whims of life. Is this how you envision your future?’