A Heart of Fire (35 page)

His
hand bloodied, he looked at his fingers and then touched his face again, his
eyes glimmering on her with a promise of retribution. A large lump already
formed over a bleeding gap along his jaw-line.

Grahund
stepped in front of her, as if to shield Finna, but the man stormed from there
then, knocking over instruments and a large soapstone pot holding water. It
spilled in his steps with a
hiss
, the
icy top breaking and shattering over the hardened snow where many tracks led
onto the path.

Finna
lowered the sword when the guard had left them.

The
second man, the guard who was not quite so outspoken, broke his silence at
last. "My lady Finna," he started, glancing from her to the path
where the other man disappeared. "You must go before he brings back your
husband!"

"Nay,
I shall not. I have done nothing wrong by stopping a dishonorable act!"
She felt heat coming into her cheeks as she glared down her nose at the man.
She turned to Grahund then. "We've only a moment. Please, tell me what you
know of Isaguilde."

"Isaguilde,"
he breathed. He was as pale as though he had seen a spirit. "Why is she
here?"

Finna
straightened, physically and mentally shaking herself. She felt as though the
force of Valdrik's destrier had trampled into her.

"Isaguilde?"
she asked. "You know her?"

"Aye,
my woman," he said.

She
tried to remember her, knowing she had seen the woman before, but they had
never spoken. She'd not associated with any of the women of her former village,
especially not the thrall women.

But
Isaguilde
had said she was a free woman.

"She
has changed her hair color, as it was when I first took her from the village in
the east, but 'tis she." He paused, confusion washing over him. "
Why
is she here?" he asked with
urgency, his stare searching the path behind them for the woman.

Her
hair? And then it hit Finna, harder than ever. As though the two images of the
separate women were overlaid in her mind. Isaguilde had no doubt used lye soap
on her raven hair, as many women did to make their hair favorably lighter.
Because of the inky darkness of her true color, her hair had become red-gold.
She'd used coal around her eyes as well.

Finna
shook her head, as if to clear it.

Isaguilde,
the slave. Images of the dark-headed woman working in Aldar's house came to
her, causing Finna to frown deeply. She formed a faint image of the woman when
she had first come to Aldar's lands.

Alas,
Finna now regretted paying her so little attention.

Why?
Why did Isaguilde seek to hide her appearance?

Of
course,
Isaguilde
would want Valdrik
to recognize her as he had known her—and for some reason, at the same time,
keep Finna from identifying her.

It
was proof enough, at long last, for Finna.

She
shook her head at Grahund's question. "I do not know," she answered.
"She claimed to be lost and in need of shelter. She said she has traveled
around for years after—" Finna slapped her palm to her forehead.
"Grahund, you took her from a village in the east? Three winters ago? She
was once Valdrik's woman until their people were slaughtered." Finna said the
last bit aloud as the pieces began to fit together.

Grahund
froze for a moment, but slowly he began to nod and looked to his feet, as
though he well-remembered the atrocities of that raid. "'Tis why I took
her under my protection. I did not wish the same to happen to another living
being."

Finna's
face fell as she looked upon him, shaking her head in denial. Nay, not her
friend. She had so hoped he had had no hand in such a terrible raid. "Why?
Why did Aldar order such atrocities? Why did he burn them?"

Grahund's
lips thinned under his beard and then parted, showing bared teeth, his pain
palpable. He shook his head fiercely, as though trying to silence the screams
he must surely remember.

She
hoped they haunted him, him and every other man who had been there.

Finna
tore herself from the forge and started away.

In
all of Aldar's senselessness, in his insanity, what he had done to Valdrik's
family was the worst. Even more terrible than what he had done to her, she now
realized.

And
to think, she had sought to protect both Grahund and Bailish from Valdrik's
wrath.

He
could do whatever he wished now.

"Finna,
wait," Grahund called after her.

Her
fists tightened as she paused in her step and looked over her shoulder at him.
"If you have anything to tell me regarding Isaguilde, then speak. If you
can give me one good reason as to why Aldar did what he did, speak." She
glared at him long and hard. "Otherwise, hold your tongue."

Grahund
fell into silence, and after a moment, Finna started from him again, hurrying
back up the path toward the training yard.

She
needed to find Valdrik. She needed to explain to him what had happened—and what
she had learned.

But
when she found him, the cur had gotten there first. Even though the guard had
started in the wrong direction, he had found Valdrik and—for whatever
reason—her husband had beaten him more soundly than she.

Finna
stopped a good ways from the yard and watched as Valdrik's fist sent the man
sprawling to the ground, a blow the guard did not get up from. Two men came and
took him by his shoulders to drag him away.

And,
as though he sensed she watched, Valdrik glanced up to her.

She
froze as their stares crashed together.

His
eyes had never been more glacial.

"Wife,"
he called heavily.

Finna
shrank back, feeling like a scolded puppy.

When
she did not come, he started for her with heavy strides.

Finna
took a step back and then another and another, but Valdrik was on her before
she could escape his wrath.

He
picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder without another word.

"Valdrik,
we must speak," she cried as the jumble of his stride upset her stomach.
The pressure of her weight bored into his body, pressing into her middle,
causing her fear for their child. She lifted herself with her hands on his
shoulders, doing all she could to alleviate the pressure of her weight, but
only managed a little.

"Enough,"
he growled, and the flat of his palm came down on her bottom.

Finna
squeaked and whipped her head around to glare at him.

"Put
me down," she said through bared teeth.

But
he didn’t.

He
carried her to their dwelling and only when they were on the steps did he set
her to her feet.

Finna
whirled on him, but he caught her by her wrist and dragged her inside behind
him.

Once
he closed them in, he swung her around and pressed her into the wall with his
hands braced on either side of her.

He
was furious.

His
ice-blue eyes narrowed on her.

"Valdrik,"
she started, putting her hands to his chest. "There is something about
Isaguilde I must tell you."

"And
now you are back to that! Finna, truly, I do not know what to do with you. I
have tried to be lenient. I have tried to be gentle, but at every turn you
disobey me! What am I to do?"

"Would
you just listen?" she shouted.

He
flinched back. "This has nothing to do with Isaguilde. This has everything
to do with
you!
Yet again, you have
gone to see those men. I told you to stay away from them for your own safety
and now look at what has happened."

"I
did not go intentionally."

His
nostrils flared, but he waited for her to go on.

Finna
told him what she had been about, that she and Geera had gone to the forest
under protection, that Stieg had gone on and
then
she noticed the guard who bothered Geera relentlessly. She
went over how she had seen the man abusing the captives, but more importantly,
how she noticed Grahund's reaction to Isaguilde.

"She
was his woman!" Finna cried. "She was on Aldar's lands, I remember
her now. You have to believe me. I
knew
that I recognized her. Please, Valdrik, send her away for all our good. I have
no doubt Aldar has sent her to spy on us, or to do harm here. Isaguilde has
changed her appearance, her hair color. Why would she do such a thing if she
has no ill intentions? Don’t you see that she has contrived a ruse to appear
that she is someone she is not? I asked her if she were on Aldar's lands, and
she lied to me."

Valdrik
scoffed at her and pulled away from the wall to rake his hands through his
hair. Though he had turned from her, he shook his head at her indications.

"Enough,
wife." He sounded weary. "Have I not shown you care? Have I not
proven to you that I am faithful? 'Tis only you seeking out others."

Finna
gasped. "That is a lie! I have sought out no other."

He
whirled and grabbed her to him then, baring his teeth. "Nay?" His
nose twitched with a snarl. "Mayhap not yet. Methinks I should have done
with those captives, afore they cause me anymore trouble. You expect me to
believe their word? That Isaguilde was with one of them?"

"Valdrik,
please! If you should have done with anyone, 'tis that animal! That guard.
He
did this, and he shall surely try to
kill me for what I dealt him in return. Do what you wish with the
captives—" Her voice broke on a tremor "—I have no desire to protect
them any longer."

Valdrik
paused, clearly taken aback, surprised by her words. "Do you not think the
guard has been dealt with already?" he asked quietly. He let her go then
and went to the fire where he sat down. "I tell you this, wife, if you
ever go near those men again, I shall kill them with my own hands."

"Why
do you fear their presence so?" she questioned.

"'Tis
not their presence," he yelled. "'Tis your regard for them. 'Tis what
they have done." He pointed at her. "And you
know
what they have done, yet still you stay my hand."

His
icy glare sent a bolt of fear racing through her.

Aye,
he was right.

She
knew what, at least, Grahund had taken part in now. And, by her accusations
against Isaguilde, she had only proven Grahund's guilt.

"I
am sorry," she said. "I did not mean for this to happen today. I only
want to protect our people." A quiver slipped into her voice again, and
before hot tears began to spill down her cheeks, she hurriedly crossed the room
to the bed.

"I
stayed your hand before, husband, only because I did not know for certain
Grahund held any blame. He was my friend once, but no longer. I now know what
he has done, so do what you must." Finna dropped onto the mattress and
curled herself into a ball there.

She
cried quietly for she knew not how long, but she would be damned if she allowed
Valdrik to hear her sobs. Her heart constricted with all the pain she felt. Why
wouldn’t he listen to her though? Surely she had made many mistakes, but the
risks they now faced overshadowed all that. Didn’t they?

Why
did he become defensive over Isaguilde? Was the other woman so important to him?

Somehow,
though she was entirely upset over her husband's reaction, Finna fell asleep at
some point.

It
was hours later that a knock at the door woke her. Only then did she realize
Valdrik was at her back, his body warm against hers. He cradled her head under
his arm and his leg pressed between her thighs as usual. He held her to his
body as though they had not argued.

She
hated the fist pounding on the door ever more now. How she did not wish Valdrik
to waken and move from her. Alas, whoever it was did not go away, and their
urgency only doubled. Finna turned to Valdrik as the pounding on the door now
stirred him, too. He lifted his head from the bolster, first glancing at the
door and then to her.

As
Valdrik swung his legs over the side of the bed, Finna rose on her arm to watch
him cross the room.

He
pulled the door open, and Ragnarr stepped in.

Valdrik
shut it back and rubbed at his eyes. "'Tis late, what are you here
for?" he demanded, his voice thick from sleep.

Ragnarr
paused, glancing between Valdrik and Finna.

Alarmed
at his countenance, Finna, too, came from the bed.

"'Tis
the captives," Ragnarr said, his voice hitched as he fixated on Finna.
"They have escaped."

Chapter Thirty

"Escaped,"
Valdrik thundered. He immediately reached for his cloak. "How?" he
asked as he jerked it from the peg and swung it around his shoulders to fasten
the clasp at his neck.

Again,
Ragnarr looked uneasy. He cleared his throat. "Someone aided them,"
he said, and glanced to Finna.