A Heart of Fire (29 page)

Finna's
head reared back and her shoulders squared. "Why did he not tell me of
this?" She took off at a march for the longhouse, shoving past Stieg and
prompting another screech from Fang. "Is he there?" she asked,
pointing ahead.

"I
do not know," Stieg answered, traipsing behind her.

Finna
balled her fists at her sides as she stormed up to the longhouse and threw open
the door. The heavy gush sent Fang to flapping his wings to stay on her
shoulder. She marched in, Stieg on her heels. He shut the door for them as she
continued on to the dais. There, seated at the table, was her entire family.
Geera stood, shocked by the sight of Finna, but she gaped at the snowy-white
owl instead.

"Aldar's
men are
here
?" Finna all but
demanded when she was in the center of the room.

Fang
squawked loudly and took flight from her shoulder, up to the rafters above. Her
gaze followed him briefly, but then she returned her stare to her parents.

Hadarr
glanced to Surguilde, and her mother patted the seat next to her.

As
Finna marched up the steps and took the seat, she felt somewhat calmer, yet her
irritation with her husband lingered in a grating way. She noticed Stieg did
not follow her up the dais, but stayed about the hall near the door where she
could not escape without his notice.

"We
are not sure, sweeting," Surguilde said, taking Finna's hands.

Hadarr
turned in his seat to face her. "'Tis best you have a guard until we know
more of what is happening."

Finna
swallowed her rising emotions. She could not see herself being stolen away, but
she did not wish to be at Aldar's whim ever again. Not now that she knew what
it was like to have a real family.
Her
family.

Finna
looked between her parents, and her irritation with her husband grew from a bud
into a full blossom. "
Where
is
Valdrik?" It was not lost to her that whatever had spooked him in the forest
must have been their reason to believe Aldar's men were here.

Surguilde's
line of vision drifted from Finna to the steps of the dais, and Finna turned.
Immediately, she gained her feet and rounded the table, going to the steps
where her husband met her. He looked on her with bemusement, one arm dangling
at his side, the other casually rested on the hilt of his sword.

"Why
did you not tell me of this?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.
"Did you fear I would flee to them?"

He
chuckled at her as he stepped up to her side and ran a hand over her hair,
pulled her head to his chest and planted a kiss on her crown. "Nay. I did
not tell you, because I did not wish to upset you as you are now."

"What
I am upset about is that you have kept this from me and now set a guard to
hound my steps. I can take care of myself. Give me a sword." She pulled
her head free to give him a heated glare.

Valdrik
looked at her with even more amusement and bent his head so only she could
hear. "You look like a spitting kitten, wife."

Finna
sputtered. "A
kitten
?" She
gave him a furious glare and then directed her vision to Stieg where he waited
patiently against the far wall, his thumbs hooked in his wide leather belt.
"I'll not have him watch me as though I am a child."

"'Tis
only until we know the full measure of danger."

This
did not satisfy her in the least, but Valdrik pulled her into his arms and
instantly she felt so small against her warrior as he cocooned her with his
strength. In his embrace, she was resigned to giving up this argument for the
moment.

Finna
closed her eyes and sighed, content to stay this way for hours, but Valdrik's
arms dropped from her and he pressed his hand to her back to turn her about.
Finna gave him an irritable look for having turned her away so soon.

"When
you spoke with the captives weeks ago, what did they say?" Hadarr asked
Finna.

"You
went to them?" Surguilde exclaimed with wide eyes. "Finna," she
said sharply. Surguilde's lips thinned into a hard line, her look full of
admonishment.

"They
would not harm me," she told her mother. Surguilde did not look convinced.
"They came to find me, as is obvious." She stopped and glanced to
Valdrik guiltily. "Aldar means to have me back. I think he means to take
my life as one last act of revenge."

Surguilde
gasped at her revelation, and her father sat forward in his seat. His sudden
pallor frightened her, but before she could offer her father comfort, Valdrik
whipped her around. His hard, cool glare bore down on her.

"Why
did you not tell me this?" he demanded.

Finna
began to fidget with her hands. "Because I did not know how serious the
threat was. I did not think they would try anything again until spring,
leastwise. But, when his men did not return, we can all surmise that Aldar must
be aware of where I am. They told me they used Fang, my owl, to find me
here." She gestured up to the rafters and then lifted her arm so Fang
could swoop down, but he did not budge from his spot except to ruffle his
feathers on his high perch. Finna shook her head at him, lowering her arm, and
returned her attentions to the others. "I did not know until today that
Fang had survived the journey. The captives did not know of any further plans
to bring me back to Aldar. How they even reached this side of the fjord, I am
not sure. 'Tis too dangerous to cross."

"There
is a pass far to the north," Hadarr said with a hint of solemnity.
"If my brother is willing to send men that far in these conditions, he is
willing to do anything."

Valdrik
slipped his arms around Finna protectively. "I'll not allow anything to
befall your daughter."

Hadarr
nodded. "I know you won't." His forlorn stare fell to the rushes for
a long moment. "But we must be prepared for anything."

Chapter
Twenty-Three

Finna
ran the washing cloth over her husband's thick arms, both mesmerized at the
feel of him under her touch and vexed over her uncle's plot against her.

She
had been a fool not to tell Valdrik of Grahund's words sooner. If she had, they
could be better prepared. Granted, she'd not
immediately
known what Grahund
had meant by his warning, but she should have told Valdrik anyway.

She
sighed. She had been wrong in many things, especially in her treatment of her
husband. She'd kept her words with Grahund a secret until now, but the moment
Valdrik had kept something from her she'd become angry.

Heat
crept into her cheeks with her shame. He had only wished not to frighten her.

A
smile began to curve at the corner of her lips. Here was her warrior, the one
man who thought to protect her when she could well defend herself. She was not
a gentle flower, yet he treated her as such.

She
bent her head to kiss Valdrik's neck. "I think I should speak with Grahund
and Bailish again to see if I can gain any more insight into Aldar's
plans," she said, running the soapy cloth over his skin, following with
her fingertips. "If anyone here knows my uncle's mind, 'tis me."

"Absolutely
not. I shall speak to them." Valdrik turned just slightly so he could pin
her with a look.

Finna
sighed and ran her fingertips over his scalp, into his dark hair. She took a
pitcher of water from the floor beside her and gently poured the water over his
head, then began to wash the strands with the soap. "Grahund and Bailish
will not speak to you as freely as they would me."

Valdrik
huffed. "They shall with the point of my sword at their throats."

"Valdrik,"
Finna said sternly as she rose and came around the tub. "I understand your
need for vengence, for what was done to your kin, but how can you punish those
who may not have been there? You act as though all guilt rests on the shoulders
of these two slaves, when 'twas likely Aldar's hand that took the lives of your
family."

Valdrik
stared at her darkly until Finna was forced to turn away. The pain her uncle
and his men had served Valdrik lingered, and would until her husband entered
Valhalla.

She
cast her gaze downward, absently into the water. "Being unjust goes
against your honor. You cannot punish men for a crime they may not have
committed. Find the answers you seek, but you do not have to—"

"Enough,"
Valdrik said.

When
Finna looked back up, his gaze had turned toward the flames. So hard and cold
were his eyes she feared touching him again to finish his bath.

She
watched him a moment longer, not daring to laugh, for though her husband looked
formidable at the moment, the suds in his hair obliterated her fear of him.
Finna bit her lip and went back to finish. She rinsed his hair and left him,
though she was sure he hardly noticed.

When
she went for the drying sheet, she paused at the trunks at the foot of the bed.

She
did not like when Valdrik was in a foul mood.

There
was one sure distraction.

Quickly,
Finna disrobed and slipped into the sheer nightdress her mother and sister had
made for her. She unbraided her hair and left it flowing about her hips. When
she was done, she looked to the tub. Her husband had not noticed any of this,
and she took up the drying sheet and flapped it out as she crossed the room.
She held it just so, so he would not see her until he stood from the tub and
took the sheet to dry himself with.

Valdrik
wrapped the sheet about him. Only then did he pause, his cool eyes melting,
heating as his stare flooded down her body.

He
swallowed several times.

Valdrik
ran the sheet over himself, slowly drying the droplets of water on his skin and
hair, but not once did he look away from her.

He
devoured Finna with that stare.

At
last, he dropped the linen and reached for her, pulling her up against his
hard, nude body.

Finna
ran her palms over his chest, the dusting of hair smooth and damp under her
touch.

He
growled and kissed her, bruising her lips.

"You'll
not go to the captives. If this is your way of seducing me to your will,"
he husked and kissed her again before finishing, "you shall fail."

Finna
moaned in delight, but pulled back. "Nay, Viking. My will is to have you.
Do I not seduce you to
that
will?"

He
growled again and picked her up, crossed the room in a few giant strides, and
then fell onto the bed atop her. "If you've a desire to keep
that—"
he gestured downward with
his eyes to the sheer nightdress "—intact, I suggest you remove it
now."

His
rough hands forced the bottom up her thighs, and Finna did the rest, tossing
the garment to the floor.

It
was a long while later, but in the dead of night, as snow drifted down on the
thatch roof, Finna lay warm and protected in Valdrik's arms.

She
amused herself with remembering the night he had stolen her from her bed, but
then she remembered how Aldar had treated her just before. His wrath for the
failed raid, the humiliation he had heaped upon her, the back of his hand as he
had struck her.

She
flinched.

"Valdrik,"
she whispered softly.

"Aye?"
he said at her ear, and drew her closer.

"Promise
me you shall not let him take me away. I do not want to go back to that life,
or to worse."

Valdrik
rose, propping himself on his arm behind her back. "I'll not let anything
or anyone take you from me, wife. So long as you heed me, you shall be
safe." He kissed the top of her head then and lay back down.

Though
he surrounded her with his strength, as Finna slept that night, her worries
caused her a fitful rest. Her dreams turned from her usual nightmare, where she
could see Aldar with his broadsword in hand, to even more traumatic visions.

Sometime
in the early hours, before Valdrik had awakened, Finna jerked herself up in
bed, a cry on her lips. She swallowed it, turning back to her husband to find
him peaceful.

She
had no doubt that he would protect her at all costs. But always? Even if Stieg
watched her whilst her husband was not with her, there would always be a risk.

She
could
protect herself though.

She
needed a weapon, even if Valdrik had forbidden it.

Chapter
Twenty-Four

Leading
two horses, Valdrik walked up the snowy path to his dwelling. One horse was his
own, and the other belonged to Surguilde. She had lent him her smaller beast
for the outing he had planned for his wife.

He
came to a stop before Stieg, where his man stood on duty under the overhang of
the door, out of the gentle flakes that softly glided from the gray heavens.

"I
thought you would never return," Stieg complained.

Valdrik
chuckled. "At lease she is not dragging you along to sit by whilst she
sews or weaves."