Summer Of The Viking. Michelle Styles

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Название Summer Of The Viking
Автор произведения Michelle Styles
Жанр Историческая литература
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Издательство Историческая литература
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escaped its braid that held his attention. ‘By rights I should call a monk.’

      ‘No!’ Valdar struggled to breathe. ‘You promised to keep my presence quiet.’

      She lowered her brows. ‘I retain the right to call in a monk if you require it.’

      ‘I’ve been injured worse and haven’t required a monk.’ There were no monks in Raumerike, precious few healers for that matter. Kara was the only one who possessed some skill. Most seemed to prefer making sacrifices to various gods. There was little point in explaining how he had cheated the gods by palming the black counter and no god would be interested in intervening on his behalf. Things worked differently with Northumbrians.

      ‘And you know best?’

      ‘In this case—yes.’ He deliberately closed his eyes. ‘The sun’s heat is wonderful. Warms my bones. There were moments in the water when I feared I’d never see the sun again.’

      ‘Do you need help getting into the cottage?’

      Confirmation if he needed it that he must look like death.

      He began to rise and immediately wished he hadn’t. In the brief time he’d been sitting, his muscles had seized and refused to obey him. He concentrated and tried again, forcing his muscles to move. Every single one protested as he stood.

      ‘If you have a stick I can lean on, I will go in.’

      She hurried to him and grabbed his arm. Her scent acted as a balm, banishing the ache. ‘Are you always this stubborn? Is that why you ended up in the sea?’

      ‘I jumped,’ he said.

      ‘Why? Was the boat going down? Will more bodies wash up?’

      ‘The rest stayed on the boat.’

      ‘You jumped of your own accord?’ Her voice rose an octave. ‘During a storm?’

      Alwynn would not understand about his gods and their demands. The Northumbrians, like the Franks, followed a different religion. He shook his head. His gods had turned their backs on him. Who was he to judge which god was right? From now on he concentrated on living, rather than thinking about things beyond his comprehension.

      He glared at her. ‘When the time came, I welcomed it. I wanted to be doing something, rather than waiting for death.’

      ‘Jumping into the ocean during a storm seems extreme.’

      ‘There are many ways to die. I took the way which offered me the most hope of surviving.’ He made an impatient gesture. ‘I’ve no idea what happened to my shipmates but they will not be near here. They will have continued on their journey back home, assuming I died. There will be much shedding of false tears when they arrive back in Raumerike.’

      ‘What had you done?’

      ‘Nothing except to attempt to keep an oath I gave.’ He ran his hand through his hair. On that dreadful morning when he had stood over Horik’s body and Girmir had demanded he show his loyalty to the new leader, Valdar had vowed to avenge his friend’s death.

      She lifted a brow. ‘You keep oaths by jumping into the stormy sea?’

      ‘I don’t expect you to understand the ways of my people. Simply trust me that it had to be done and that I broke no laws. I follow a code. The same as my father did and his father before him.’

      She rolled her eyes upwards. ‘God preserve me from warriors and their honour. But rather than using a stick, take my arm.’

      He opened his mouth to ask how a slight person like her could assist him, but then swallowed the words as he remembered how her soft breasts had felt against his side during the journey from the beach. The only reason he had escaped the scavengers was down to her. And he always paid his life debts.

      ‘I will only trouble you a day or two.’ He ignored the screaming pain in his ribs. ‘Once I am rested, I will move on. I understand what risks you have taken. You will be rewarded. I promise.’

      ‘No reward is necessary. My code demanded it.’ Her full lips gave a bitter twist. ‘Or don’t you think a woman can have a code?’

      ‘I know a great number of honourable women.’

      ‘You want to return to your home and your loved ones. Your honourable women.’

      Home. The word left a bitter taste in his mouth. A place of dashed dreams and unfulfilled promises. He had no idea how people would react when he told his tale of Girmir’s betrayal and what had happened afterwards. Would they believe him or Girmir? Girmir was his jaarl’s distant cousin and there had been bad blood between Horik and the jaarl. Valdar shook his head. That was a problem for another day. Right now was about survival.

      ‘Everyone wants a home, a place where they can feel safe.’

      ‘For now, consider this your place of safety.’

      ‘A refuge, rather than a home.’

      She draped his arm over her shoulders and glanced up at him. A gentle breeze blew hair across her face. Her eyes were sea green underlain with silver and her lips softly parted. Desire stirred deep within him.

      It had been far too long since he’d lain with a woman. Since before Kara. Perhaps it was as his sister-in-law counselled him before he left—a question of time. She hadn’t liked it when he asked her about why she remained unmarried, though. His brother had been gone a long time and she needed protection.

      Maybe the queer hold Kara had over him was lessening and he could get on with his life. After he wreaked his revenge on Girmir, then he would inform his sister-in-law that she could start the search for his bride.

      Quickly he removed his arm. Alwynn gave him a questioning glance.

      ‘I am able to walk on my own. I don’t want to crush you with my weight.’

      ‘You are without a doubt the most stubborn man I’ve met.’ She put her hand on her hip. ‘How do you think you arrived at this cottage in the first place?’

      ‘Calling someone stubborn is a compliment where I come from.’

      He deliberately walked into the cottage, setting his feet down hard and not glancing at her again even though he sensed she hovered at his elbow, ready to catch him if he fell.

      On the threshold, he stood and allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloom. The cottage was larger than many in Raumerike and boasted three tapestries on the walls as well as a decent hearth in the centre of the room. A long table dominated one end of the room while a simple pallet of straw lay close to the newly started fire.

      ‘When will the owner return?’

      ‘My old nurse uses it. She retired here a few years ago.’ Alwynn turned her back and began to fiddle with the pots on the table. ‘She and my late husband were less than good friends.’

      ‘Was this nurse a good judge of character?’

      She turned her back on him and began smoothing the coverlet. ‘A long time ago she gave me permission to use the cottage whenever I wish.’

      ‘You are high-born. I know enough about the customs of these lands.’

      Her hand stilled. ‘Does it matter?’

      ‘Why did you try to hide it from me? I’ve no wish to harm you.’

      He captured her hand and raised her palm to his lips. She trembled slightly. She quickly withdrew her hand as her cheeks flamed.

      She tilted her chin upwards and her eyes blazed green fire. Every inch the imperious lady.

      ‘There was no hiding. I may have been the lady of a great estate, but no longer. Now I’m simply a woman who tends her garden. My mother would be appalled, but I paid my late husband’s debts without losing my honour or turning away any of our old servants from their homes, including my nurse. So, yes, my nurse is a good judge of character.’