By Love Enslaved (42 page)

“Grena hasn’t left Jørn’s side, Erik, but if she does, I’m afraid your presence here will upset her,” Freya warned apologetically. “Why don’t you and Berit go for a walk? I imagine you have a great deal to discuss.”

“You’ll be all right?” Berit inquired considerately.

“Of course. Thora and I have lots to do today, don’t we, baby?”

Thora nodded as she snuggled up closer to her mother. As the youngest, she and her mother had always shared a special bond. She sensed Freya needed her now, just as she had needed her comfort after she had nearly drowned. “Yes, Mother,” she agreed softly.

After pausing to kiss both Freya and Thora, Erik led Berit out through the kitchen so they could go for a walk without passing by the ailing men. He took her hand and started along the path that led by the storehouses. Still warmed by the love she had given him before dawn, he was content to simply walk, but Berit felt a compelling need to speak.

“I don’t want you to go with Jarald,” the lively blonde revealed. “I kept still when we were with the others, but now that we’re alone there’s no reason for me to pretend I want you to go.”

Erik stopped in midstride and pulled her around to face him. “How can you ask such a thing of me?”

“How?” Berit replied incredulously. “Haakon has never treated you as he should. Why must you risk your life to save his when you know he would never do the same for you?”

While the opinion stung, Erik thought it undoubtedly correct. That didn’t matter, though. “He’s still my father, Berit, and I must try to save him if I can. There’s Svien to consider too. He’s been the best of brothers, and I can’t leave him in the pirates’ hands. I doubt that they’d kill him as Brendan fears, when they could make a fine profit selling their prisoners as slaves, but I can’t let that happen. I can’t believe that you would want your cousin to suffer so humiliating a fate either.”

Unconvinced, Berit tried again to dissuade him. “Of course I love Svien, but what of me? How can you leave me when there’s a chance you won’t be coming back?”

Thinking he understood her concern, Erik drew her into his arms. “You mustn’t be jealous of my love for my father and brother, Berit. I would make a poor husband for you if I cared nothing for my family.”

“I’m not jealous!” Berit insisted tearfully. “It’s just that everything has gone so badly for us, and I’m afraid, desperately afraid, something awful will happen to you.”

“We’ve known all along that things could not possibly be easy for us. But the voyage to Erin has nothing to do with our marriage, so there’s no reason for you to think it won’t be a success.”

Berit slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. “Yes, I know, but still, I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Erik kissed her temple sweetly. “You will never lose me, Berit. Never.”

As Berit looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears for she knew he meant that his love would never die, even if he did. “Please don’t go,” she begged again. “Please.”

With a loving caress, Erik pressed her cheek against his chest and he felt his kirtle growing damp with her tears. He made no further attempt to reason with her while she was in such an emotional state, but no matter how badly it upset the young woman he adored, he was determined to be the one to rescue his father. If she did not understand why, then it was because she was still in many ways a child. In time she would come to accept his decision. She would have to, for he would never change his mind, and he hoped it would not cost him her love.

It was late afternoon when Grena finally emerged from Jørn’s chamber. It had taken the better part of the day for Olga’s herbal remedies to begin lowering his fever, but at last they had had an effect, and he was sleeping comfortably. Exhausted, she sent Soren to her home to summon several of her servants so that her son would have someone with him both day and night.

When she joined her sister and niece, Grena was at first too weary to think about Erik, but as soon as she was sufficiently rested, his name came readily to mind. “I’m grateful that Erik has been wise enough to stay out of sight.”

Freya had been helping Thora begin a new tablet weaving, for unlike Dana, her younger daughter frequently liked to sit with her and sew. Looking up, she thought she saw something new in Grena’s expression, a hesitancy, perhaps, that she did not recall. “He was here earlier, but he’s far too considerate a man to wish to upset you unnecessarily. He’ll keep his distance until he leaves for Erin with Jarald.”

Grena nodded as Freya related the rescue plans, but the mere mention of Jarald’s name made her stomach lurch painfully. “Perhaps Jørn will recover his strength in a day or two, and he can make the voyage himself.”

“While I also hope that he’s well soon, I’ve already accepted Jarald’s offer to deliver the ransom, and I can’t tell him he won’t be needed when he returns with his ship and crew.”

“He’s not part of our family, though.”

“He wants to be,” Thora pointed out with a teasing smirk.

Freya could not argue with her daughter’s opinion. “Yes, he certainly does, but I don’t believe Dana is ready for marriage yet.”

A painful lump filled Grena’s throat, for she had always loved her nieces dearly, and the thought of Dana marrying a beast like Jarald was more than she could sanely bear to imagine. Unfortunately, she knew Haakon thought highly of the man, so there was no way she could discredit his name without revealing the contemptible way he had treated her. How could she admit that horror to Freya, who saw only good in everyone? Thoroughly humiliated by the memory of the ghastly afternoon Jarald had spent in her bed, Grena could see no value in describing it to her sister.

Besides, what if she did tell Freya? If Jørn wasn’t well enough to make the return voyage to Erin by the time Jarald arrived with his ship, Freya would have no choice about sending the ransom with him. Telling Freya about Jarald would merely be cruel in that case, as her sister would have no choice about depending on him. As much as she hated having to keep quiet about the man’s true nature, she feared that was her only option.

It was unlike Grena to be so quiet, and after studying her preoccupied frown, Freya was prompted to inquire if something more than Jørn’s health might be troubling her.

Startled from her reverie by the question, Grena was flustered only a moment. “This is all so terribly upsetting,” she explained hurriedly. “What an awful summer this has been. We’ve never had so many terrible problems. I keep thinking things can get no worse, but each time they do!”

Freya felt foolish now for having shed so many tears over Erik and Berit when the complications their romance presented were insignificant when compared to the life-threatening situation that faced her husband and eldest son. “We’ve survived a great deal, Grena, and we’ll survive this summer as well,” she remarked confidently, her faith in her husband unshaken despite the desperate nature of his plight.

While Brendan rode with Erik back to his new house to bring construction to a halt, he kept up a steady barrage of arguments in a determined effort to keep Dana from accompanying them to Erin. “She’s clever, but the fact she’s an attractive female makes her more vulnerable than valuable. If you love her, as I think you must, then you’ll leave her here where she’ll come to no harm.”

Erik eyed Brendan with a skeptical glance. “When Dana has more of a right to go than I do, how can you expect me to make such a decision?”

That question gave Brendan a moment’s pause, for it was true that Erik took his orders from Dana, not the other way around. “You’re close to Freya. Convince her to forbid it then.”

“Is this another in your endless attempts to stir up trouble by taking my side against Dana?”

“No!” Brendan exclaimed in a frustrated sigh. “Trom is evil, truly evil, and I don’t want Dana anywhere near him.”

Erik gave a thoughtful nod. “Is it Trom or Jarald that you don’t want near her?”

Brendan pulled his mount to a halt. “It’s not my feelings which ought to concern you, but your sister’s life. This voyage is no place for a woman.”

Nearly as angry as his companion, Erik reined in Shadow so that they could continue their discussion. “Dana is no ordinary woman, as you well know. While she’s never sailed herself, she has often been out in a boat, and she never gets seasick. Svien taught her to swim, so she’s in far less danger of drowning than I am. She can wear Soren’s clothes and cover her hair so her femininity isn’t apparent. You must have been impressed by what you’ve heard of Haakon. Well, Dana is her father’s daughter, and she has courage aplenty. There’ll be no reason for her to fight, but I want her with us anyway.”

When Erik turned away to urge Shadow on down the trail, their conversation obviously over in his view, Brendan continued to fume. He knew Dana and Erik were closer than most twins, but why the man needed to have his sister along on so dangerous a mission he couldn’t imagine. There would be a few days before they sailed, and he vowed to keep up his protests until Erik finally understood why Dana had to remain behind.

“You’ve got to learn how to swim!” Brendan called out as he started after Erik. They had planned to gather up the tools and send the field hands home. The house was nearly complete and could wait until Erik came back from Erin to be finished. The sudden realization that he would not be coming back to Fyn himself was almost more than Brendan could bear, but just as he had said, it was not his feelings which mattered now, but keeping Dana safe.

Ulla was among those who came from Grena’s to tend Jørn’s crew. She was old and frail, but she preferred alleviating the pain of others to dwelling on her own. Because she had known many of the sick all their lives, she provided as loving care as their mothers would. She worked until night had fallen and all were resting comfortably before she sat down to rest herself. When Berit and Dana came to speak with her, she looked around first to make certain Grena was nowhere near before motioning for them to come close.

“I did my best,” she assured Berit. “But I didn’t hear your mother speak a word about either you or Erik, much less plot against him.”

Perplexed by this report, Berit frowned impatiently. “I’m certain she didn’t attempt to set fire to his house herself, but she must have sent someone else to do it. Maybe she realized there were other servants like you who love me and would have warned us. She must have taken care that none of you found out what she planned.”

Ulla looked up at the two pretty young women, envying them even though she had beautiful memories of the days men had found her attractive too. “I don’t think your mother knew of the fire before Jarald brought her the news. I was working nearby while they talked, and that is the way it seemed.”

“Just what did she say?” Berit pressed Ulla to reveal.

The elderly woman shrugged. “I don’t recall. They talked only briefly.”

“Briefly?” Dana asked as she exchanged a significant glance with Berit, for they both remembered Jarald being gone the whole afternoon.

Ulla looked down, not wanting to admit all she knew about Jarald’s visit with her mistress. That was not the kind of thing a daughter should learn about her mother, and Ulla loved Grena as well as Berit.

Too curious to let her servant pretend a shyness Berit was certain she didn’t feel, the blonde knelt by her side. “What happened that day, Ulla? We’ll not be angry with you, no matter what you tell us, but it’s important for us to know. It’s more important than you may ever know,” she whispered dramatically.

Ulla remained reluctant to talk until she realized the cousins would pester her with questions all night unless she did. “Your mother is a widow, Berit. Widows often get very lonely,” she finally said.

“You mean my mother and Jarald—” Berit was so astonished she didn’t know exactly how to phrase the question.

Ulla nodded.

At first Dana wanted to laugh at the thought of Grena and Jarald being lovers, but then she became angry. Jarald had been courting her for more than a year. Did he frequently pass his afternoons in attractive widows’ beds? As for her aunt, was she so furious at Erik she would stoop to seducing his sister’s suitor? Neither explanation satisfied her, and she felt as though she had been betrayed by them both.

“Thank you, Ulla,” Dana said sweetly, despite the darkness of her mood. “I hope our family’s troubles will soon be over, but please tell us if there’s anything else we should know.”

“I will, mistress,” Ulla replied, relieved she had not had to relate how battered and bruised Grena had been when Jarald had left her.

As they turned away, Berit took her cousin’s hand. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

“Why not?” Dana responded flippantly. “Jarald’s a good deal older than I am. I’ll bet he’s near your mother’s age. Frankly, I think they’d make a fine couple, and I’ll suggest it to him just as soon as we’ve set my father and brother free.”

Berit had seen Dana angry often enough to recognize she was livid now. “That’s very generous of you.”

“It has nothing to do with generosity,” Dana was quick to point out. “We need the swine’s boat and crew or I’d tell him to spend his time elsewhere right now!”