Loki's Daughters (22 page)

"Went sour, did it?"

"Damn, Egil, back off."

"Ah." The blue eyes twinkled halfway between merriment and concern. "Scared her off."

"How should I know what's in her head? Damn the stars, Egil, keep it quiet, will you?"

"If you want. Why? Most men would be bragging."

Ronan gave up and set the adze down, leaning against a tree. "I'm not most men. I don't know. I pushed too hard, I suppose. Everything seemed just fine until I mentioned marriage."

"Marriage to a Viking." Egil carefully examined a wood shaving he had wrapped around his finger. "Pretty hard for these Celts to swallow."

"I know, but why would she? She's skittish, like a pony in a lightning storm, running from something."

"Well, it's better than most of us are doing. Not a one of us doesn't get hard at night dreaming of tits, but that's all we've got. Dreams."

Ronan mopped the sweat from his brow. "Looks to me like I'm right back there with the rest of you."

"But if she'll do it once, she'll do it again. Plant a babe in her. That'll settle her down."

Ronan glared fire. "That sounds pretty strange, coming from you."

"Aye." Egil nodded. "It's not my way. And 'twould be the wrong thing entirely for my Birgit. But maybe it's the right thing for her. But keep your own advice, at least, Ronan. They don't know us. They only know the worst of our kind. That's a lot to overcome."

"I'm not as patient as you."

"Yes, you are. You've waited ten years for this girl. Don't ruin it now. Maybe you should talk to her."

"Tried it."

"Try again." With a sweep of his hand, Egil gestured down the valley toward the estuary. "She went out with Liam toward the beach about an hour ago. Several of the women are out there."

"Trust you to know. No, I don't want anyone else to know about this. Not till she's ready. I know that's part of what's upsetting her."

"Then be careful what you say. But if the others are around, she couldn't run away. She might have to listen."

Ronan shook his head and picked up his adze again. It looked pretty hopeless to him. "She just needs some time. I think I'll just finish this beam. We can replace the thatch on another cottage when it's done."

"Suit yourself," Egil said, clamping his hand on Ronan's shoulder. He started to walk away. "By Thor's beard, would you look at that?"

"What?" asked Ronan, his head already turning in the direction Egil was staring. But he saw it immediately.

"By the forge, with Bjorn. Who is that?"

"Elli, I think, by the long blonde braids."

"No women in his life, huh?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Her father was the blacksmith. Maybe she has some business there."

"You think? Let's go see."

Ronan was not really of a mood to do such a thing, but he was greatly in need of a distraction. The brothers sauntered down the path toward the old forge that Bjorn was renovating, keeping a careful eye on the man and the girl to whom he talked.

Their footfalls got Bjorn's attention. He glowered at the girl. "Go on, girl, go on. I've got work to do. Don't need a woman around to bother me."

The girl looked slapped. She turned swiftly and left. Why was Bjorn so brusque, if he had been so willing to talk with her before?

"No women, is it, Bjorn?" Egil asked.

Bjorn shot an evil glare at Egil. "Woman just hangs around," he said. "Said her father was the blacksmith."

"So he was," Ronan agreed. "Does she have a liking for the forge? Or do you have a hankering for her?"

"Don't want nothing to do with women," Bjorn insisted, bristling. "But she knows things. There's things here that are confusing, and she knows about them. Girl knows more than most folks."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Guess her father had some idea about getting iron so hot, it'd flow like water, and using molds, like a goldsmith does."

"Not possible, is it?"

With the return to a safer topic, tension eased in the blacksmith's face. "Not that I know of. But I've thought of it myself. Thing is, can't get a fire that hot. I've tried, but there's nothing hotter than a charcoal fire. Bellows make it as hot as it can get, but not hot enough. And molds, anything that hot would crack any mold. But he must've been trying. Found a bunch of them."

Ronan's eyebrows raised. "Interesting discussion for a girl."

Bjorn set his square body, feet spread, bulky arms folded. "Aye, but she's still a woman. Got no use for women."

***

The rains came again. Arienh was relieved, for it kept the Viking away. When the sun shone, she stayed away from him only by judiciously watching where he was and making sure she was somewhere else. Every day he helped Tanni bring in the sheep, and she left Liam to tell him she was off on other errands. Knowing he would then watch to see where she went before the sheep were brought in, she took herself off even earlier. For over a sennight she had avoided him. But she could not keep it up forever. He was only humoring her, and she knew it.

At least there was never a loss of things to keep her busy. She needed more time, time to think. Especially since she couldn't find the courage for more tricks.

She took Liam to gather clams. The boy ran ahead, then dashed back, taking her hand and tugging, then he ran off again. Sort of like a young dog trying to tease its master into a game of chase.

"Come on, Aunt," he said, pulling her along. "The tide'll be back up before we get there."

She laughed. Never could she look at the child without reveling in the incredible gift he was to them. "The tide's still going out, Liam."

"Well, you're so slow."

She quickened her pace along the narrow trail that wound between the curve of the hill and the estuary. Brilliant sunshine lit up pale sand and gleamed on Liam's brass-colored hair. The boy was beautiful, special. For all his horrible origins, she could not be anything but glad he had come into their lives. She wondered if they were right in shutting the huge blond Viking out of Liam's life.

Nay, they had to do it. Egil would want a healthy, whole wife. All men did. And the more time he spent with Liam, the greater would be the risk of discovery. He was a greater threat to Birgit than the man who had raped her and fathered her child.

A child. She hadn't thought of that either, when she had so easily given herself to the Viking. She hadn’t thought of anything except her own desires. He hadn't just stirred her body. He stirred her soul. And addled her brain.

She had been so angry with him for moving in and taking over, and all the while denying he did what he did. So angry, she had been determined to resist him. And so sure that anger was all she needed to protect herself from him. Yet, all he'd had to do was touch her and her resistance had crumbled like fine-grained sand.

She should be angry with herself. He had only done what any man would do.

"Look, Aunt. See? It's low enough to dig already. Hurry!"

The boy was right. In her dallying, she was going to miss the best of the low tide. Out by the far sand spit, Selma with her two cousins, and Elli with their kirtles knotted up high, walked the edge of the surf, dodging the occasional high wave.

"All right," she said, handing Liam his little shovel and one of the knotted mesh bags she had made to hold shellfish. "But stay close to me."

"Aw." He shuffled in that ungainly way he had, meant to make his reluctance known. He would spend more time running in and out of the surf than digging, but she didn't mind. He would be eager enough when he found something.

Spotting the squirt of a razorshell, Arienh dropped to her knees, rapidly shoveling sand with her trowel until the trowel struck the shell. She latched fingers around the shell before the creature had a chance to dig away and escape. She plopped the clam into her bag, then walked on along the strand line, glancing up now and then to be sure Liam hadn't gone far.

"Liam," she would call when he wandered.

"Aw." But he would hurry back.

When he lingered around a clutch of boulders that lay in the warm sunshine, she called out again. "Liam, come away. There could be adders."

"Aw. I don't see any."

"Just because you don't see them doesn't mean they aren't there. Come away."

Liam flailed his lanky arms in disgust as he stomped away and returned to the wetter part of the beach.

"You would not want to be hungry tonight because you did not dig, Liam."

Liam dug, but his heart was not in it. A world of fascinating things awaited him, and he did not often get so far away from his mother. But he was too curious, and had no natural caution. This time of year, as the sun began to warm the rocks, the adders came out to sun themselves, and their mottled markings hid them well. Engrossed as he often became in minute things, Liam would not see a snake before it struck.

She bent to her knees again and again, digging, most of the time achieving her quarry, soon became engrossed in her task.

A shadow fell across her.

Ronan, leading his favorite pied horse. Her heart beat faster. Nay, not here, not now.

"Go away," she said, trying not to look at him, but it was not possible. He was too compelling, too huge, and by far too handsome. Her eyes swept a path upward over hard-muscled thighs, and flickered away at the bulge beneath his breeches. Was that all it took for him, just to be face to face with a woman? Truth to tell, she did not want him any less.

Bright sun glinted off the silver trimmings on his sword scabbard and illuminated golden strands in his richly dark hair. She recalled how that same scabbard strap had looped twice about her own waist, and the scabbard itself had nearly skimmed the ground.

"We need to talk," he replied. His eyes were dark with a hidden kind of hunger.

"I do not need to." She cast an anxious glance over her shoulder, hoping Liam was out of earshot. He had found a small tidal pool among the rocks.

"Aye, we do, wife."

"I am not your wife."

"I say you are." His jaw set hard. "Arienh, what is wrong?"

She looked down, studying the debris of the strand line. "Nothing is wrong. I have nothing to say to you."

"If I have done something wrong, I would like to know."

"You know what you did."

"Aye." His brows rose high. His tongue licked across his lips. "And I know what you did, too."

"Hush. Someone will hear."

"That's a thought. Shall I tell them? I could force this if I wanted to, Arienh."

"It wouldn't surprise me. You do whatever you want, with no regard for others. We don't want you here, Viking. Can't you get that through your head?"

"We're not leaving."

"That is my point." Arienh spun away, striding across the wet sand toward the tidal pool where Liam dangled his fingers, but it did not discourage the Viking. Very little did. Leading his piebald horse by its reins, Ronan loped up beside her and took up her pace.

She could walk faster, of course, but so could he, so what would be the point in it?