His to Take (5 page)

Ingrid nodded. “Always headstrong. That’s my boy. Makes up his mind to do something and charges ahead full on.” She sighed. “He can be so intent on keeping a body from toppling off a cliff he doesn’t realize he’s stomping on their toes the whole time.”

Ingrid got painfully to her feet. “I’ve kept you here long enough, child. They’ll be expecting you in the Great Hall soon for dinner. Come back tomorrow morning, at first light. I have a busy day ahead of me and Princess Talia is right. I can certainly use your help.”

Chapter Four

The days flew by. Every morning Selena reported to Ingrid’s quarters while it was still dark. The first hour was spent learning about the various herbs and other substances in the sealed jars, some of them dubious-looking. One particular jar held a crushed-up brownish substance that smelled especially noxious. She swore she’d seen what looked like a bit of insect leg in the scoopful Ingrid mixed into a flask before handing it to one of her patients.

People arrived in an unending stream. Burns and sprains and cuts were treated with various potions, then gently wrapped in bandages. Those with sore throats and coughs and children who came in crying with one hand covering an ear got a big spoonful of honey, each with a different blend of crushed herbs stirred in.

And everyone got a cup of tea and time to sit by the fire and chat. Often a sick child ended up dozing in mama’s lap. Selena couldn’t count the number of times she’d heard a grateful mother say “This is the first real rest my little one has gotten in days. And it’s the first time I’ve had a few moments without the ceaseless crying—not to mention the pleasure of having another adult to talk to!” Later, mother and child would head out the door, both with the look of pain gone from their eyes.

Despite being constantly busy, Ingrid never rushed anyone out. Each patient was treated to the same care and concern. One old man came in every few days complaining of aches and pains, always migrating to a different part of his body. Ingrid sent him home each time with a different tea or potion, but nothing seemed to work. Selena suspected his maladies were made up just to get attention. She finally brought it up after he’d stopped by and lingered for so long in front of the fire that Ingrid invited him to stay and share their midday meal.

Ingrid nodded pleasantly. “Well of course they are, dear. Gunter lost his beloved wife a few months ago. She doted on him, and he on her. He has nothing better to do now than to mourn and dwell on every little twinge that comes with age. I invited him to share our dinner because now he’s beholden to me. When next he comes, I’ll mention I’m getting low on firewood. His Viking sense of drengr will require him to repay a favor. There’s nothing really wrong with him. He’ll get out in the fresh air, chop wood, feel like a man again when he brings it to me.”

“You’re a crafty old thing!” Selena clapped a hand over her mouth, appalled at blurting her thoughts out.

Ingrid chuckled. “Thank you, dear.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Soon I’ll ask if I can confide in him. I’ll tell him I’m concerned that the younger men on the council have made some rash decisions. He’ll mull it over, decide they have need of his advice, and resume his place at the council table in the Great Hall. Once he’s taken an interest in life again he’ll ignore those little aches and pains that come with age—as we all learn to do if we want to make the most of every day we’ve been granted by the Nornar.”

The practice of medicine took on a new meaning in Selena’s eyes. Ingrid taught her the importance of treating the whole person, not just running a scanner over a mangled limb and then directing a laser at the injury. The old woman worked miracles with her piles of dried weeds and jars of crushed scorpion tails, administered with a full dose of compassion.

Still, there were some illnesses Ingrid couldn’t heal. Selena laid in bed at night, heartsick over the people she knew were dying, wishing desperately she could do something to save them. But when she brought it up, Ingrid smiled and patted her hand.

“You have a big heart, child. But death is a part of life. We do not fear it, here on Gadolinium. The gates of Valhalla will swing open for each of us when the Nornar have decreed. Some of us are lucky enough to hear the creaking of the hinges ahead of time, so we can prepare ourselves. Come, sit here with me for a bit before you leave.” Ingrid drew her to the chairs nestled close to the hearth. “Let us speak of another part of life. Love. Haldor should be back tonight. You must be excited at the thought of his return.”

Selena sighed. “I am. But I’m nervous too. He’s been… different lately. Always gone, either out hunting or at council meetings that last all day and into the night. And when he’s home he’s been distant. Hardly speaking sometimes.”

Ingrid patted her hand, nodding. “It’s hard sometimes, meshing your life with that of another soul. Much as you may wish to be close, there are often times when you’re moving to the beat of different caribou skin drums.”

The old lady stopped, regarding her with those sharp eyes. “May I speak frankly, child?”

“Yes, please do.”

“Sexual attraction is something out of our control. We’re each drawn to a certain kind of person. Some men, for example, lust after slender bodies and fair hair. Other men…” Ingrid’s eyes twinkled. “Well, let’s just say the Nornar have been gracious enough to some of us to instill a desire in them for sweet, soft curves a man can sink into on a cold night. And each woman has her own idea of physical perfection.” She gave Selena an impish grin. “Though I don’t know even one who doesn’t enjoy the sight of a muscular bare chest. But once that lust has been satisfied, love—well, that’s a decision. Love is a choice you make every day. Now don’t get me wrong, dear. A healthy dose of lust is part of the potion for true, long-lasting love. But there’s so much more. Friendship and laughter and trust—and simply enjoying each other’s company. Forgiving huge mistakes as readily as small slights. Being quick to admit you were wrong and slow to anger. I know something of Earth and its customs. Long ago, your people dedicated an entire day on their calendar to celebrate love in all its forms, bringing light to one of the darkest days of the year. They exchanged notes and sweet treats to show their affection for each other, often in the shape of hearts.”

Selena nodded. “I’ve heard of it. Valentine’s Day. Another of those archaic customs we’ve done away with.”

Ingrid gave her a shrewd glance. “Is it? Your heart is open now, child. Look inside and ask yourself whether a day devoted to expressing your love to those who mean the most to you can ever be considered a foolish, outdated concept.”

Selena’s eyes widened. “You’re right. There are so many beliefs I was raised with that I simply take for granted, even now.”

“We all do, child. We accept them as truth, as ‘the way things are.’ But becoming your own person means looking at every aspect of your life and deciding for yourself what is true for you and what is not.

“Here’s a truth I came to accept long ago, one that has served me well. Whenever you feel unloved and ignored, instead of saying ‘He isn’t giving enough to me,’ that’s the time to look at yourself and ask ‘How much am I giving to him?’”

* * *

Heedless of the cold, Selena spent a long time sitting on a stone bench in the snow-covered garden, thinking about what Ingrid had said.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’ve been so wrapped up in what he’s not giving me, I’ve ignored how cold and distant I’ve become. Building those walls up around myself so I can’t be hurt
.
I don’t know what’s changed in him, what he’s going through. But withdrawing my love and affection isn’t the way to support him and show my love.

She jumped up and hurried into the palace to find her friend.

“Talia! I’m going home. Right now. Haldor said he’d be back tonight and I’ve decided to surprise him—greet him with his favorite meal and a mug of honey mead in front of a roaring fire.”

“You shouldn’t travel alone. Wait till the council meeting is over and Kylar can go with you, see you safely there.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s not that far. Besides, I have so much to do before he arrives. If I wait, I’ll never get everything done. When he arrives at the palace to pick me up, you can tell him I’m waiting for him at home.”

She tossed a few things into a small bag and set out, excited. She’d get the rest of her clothes later. Hurrying down the streets toward the edge of town, she was so caught up in her plans that she barely noticed the snow starting to fall. But the wind had picked up and she wished she’d changed into a heavier gown under her fur-lined cloak before leaving.

By the time she’d left the lights of Trondheim behind, deep in the woods, the wind had turned into a gale, whipping the snow around in a frenzy. For a while, she could still see the lane ahead, leading through the trees. But before long, her world became a swirling mass of white. She could barely make out the dark tree trunks lining either side of the lane.

She’d never been out in a blizzard before, but she’d heard tales of how dangerous they were. Grown men freezing to death because the snowfall was so thick they couldn’t see that they were just steps from their own hearth when they finally gave in to exhaustion and lay down to sleep. Shivering, she decided to turn around and head back to the palace.

But when she did, panic set in. Her footsteps were gone, filled in by the wind scouring the ground in one spot only to pile the snow into knee-high drifts in another. She couldn’t see more than three or four tree trunks around her, not enough to make out the double line flanking the lane. They all looked equally distant from each other. With a sinking feeling, she realized she had no idea which way to go.

The world became an icy white ocean. Above, below and all around her. And she was adrift in the middle of it. Alone.

* * *

Haldor took one look at the sky and decided he’d have to stop for the day. A storm was brewing and he wanted to get back to the palace before it hit. Selena would be expecting him and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

He’d been back from his trip for several days already, spending every waking minute working on her surprise. Missing her desperately, but so excited to see the look on her face that he drove himself hard, working late into the night.

He took one last look around. Kylar and the others had left hours ago. He didn’t know how he would have done all this without them. He headed outside, hitched up the wagon and called to Loki, his wolfhound. The huge beast bounded out of the woods and leaped into the back of the wagon. He never ventured into the woods without Loki by his side. Gadolinean wolfhounds kept every other creature at bay. Not even a hungry snow leopard would dare attack him when faced with those snarling fangs.

By the time he reached the palace, the storm had reached full fury, wreaking its vengeance on the city. He drove through the deserted streets with the wind howling around every corner. Houses were shuttered up tight, with only slivers of light leaking out to hint at the comfort and warmth inside. He unhitched the wagon and stabled his horse, settled Loki with a plate of scraps from the kitchen, then headed to the Great Hall—only to find it empty.

He stopped a serving wench on her way up to the second floor.

“Where is everyone?”

She looked surprised to see him. “My Lord Haldor, they’re gone. The men have all headed into the woods, toward your house.”

“Toward my house? But why?”

The girl started babbling so fast he could barely follow. “Miss Selena. They’ve gone looking for her. Prince Kylar is furious. He’s shut Princess Talia in her room, threatened to spank her good when he gets back. She’s worried sick, crying so hard I’m afraid she’ll make herself ill. It’s not good for the baby.”

Haldor wanted to shake the young girl but he restrained himself, trying to keep his voice calm. “Why are they looking for Miss Selena? And why is Kylar angry?”

The young woman looked up at him and began speaking as though he was slow-witted. “I told you, my lord. Miss Selena is gone. She told Princess Talia she was going back to your house. Said she wanted to surprise you when you came home. Prince Kylar and the other men were out all day hunting. When they arrived here, the storm had just hit. The prince was angry with his wife for not stopping Selena, but the princess had been inside all day. She had no idea the weather had turned bad. So now they’re all out looking for her. She was on foot and his highness doesn’t think she could have made it all the way back to your house before the storm hit.”

Haldor charged back down the stairs, taking them three at a time. He stopped in the stable long enough to hitch up the wagon and pile extra furs and blankets in the back, then whistled for Loki.

Kylar and his men would be fanning out along both sides of the lane that wound through the woods, the way Selena would have gone. If she’d gotten lost early on, they’d find her. But Haldor knew just how determined his woman could be. If she somehow made it deep into the woods and then lost her way, they might never find her before she froze to death. So Haldor turned onto a narrow path cutting through the heart of the forest, knowing that though the going would be rougher, it would lead straight to the lane near his house.

He’d gone scarcely a quarter of a league when he pulled up the reins. The path was blocked by snowdrifts. Impossible to take the wagon any further. He strapped a pile of furs to his back, grabbed a flask of mead and called the wolfhound.

“Your mistress. She’s gone. Find her. Find Selena, Loki.”

The huge creature bounded away. Haldor tried desperately to keep up with the big hound’s gait, since he could barely see his hands in front of his face. He stumbled over a downed tree hidden under a drift, cursing as he struggled to his feet. Loki circled back, prancing and whining, anxious to move on.

“Go, Loki. Find her. Then lead me to her.”

The animal shot away, disappearing into the swirling blanket of white. Haldor plodded along behind, following in the animal’s tracks as long as he could before they were obliterated.