The Heart's Warrior (25 page)

Kerstin pushed him aside and bolted from the bed. “I will do it.”

She began to undress. He chuckled and the magic of his touch filled her mind. Though she accepted him as her husband, she realized she had not accepted him as a lover.

The bed creaked as he rolled onto his back. In the dark, she saw the flash of his muscular arms as he lifted and rested them beneath his head, a great mountain of a man with the grace of a wild panther.

He stifled a yawn. “Will you be much longer?”

She couldn’t answer with her leaden tongue. Spirals of expectancy shot through her and she longed to curl against him. His magnetic presence kept her captive.

What was wrong with her?

She stood there, dressed in her short shift. He turned his head and looked at her. Goose bumps dotted her flesh and she shivered, praying he didn’t notice.

In the dim light, he relaxed his shoulders and closed his eyes. “Come to bed, Kerstin.”

Biting back a sigh of resignation, she crawled

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beneath the furs and snuggled against the mattress to get warm. Every one of her senses seemed tightly sprung, ready to burst with energy. He didn’t touch her. Within minutes, he slept. His calm breathing deepened, tinged now and then by a soft snore. Lying beside him, she felt oddly at peace and drifted off to sleep.

In the wee hours of the morning, she awakened to

find his warm body against hers.

She had curled into him, her head resting on his

shoulder, one arm curved around his neck. His chest rose and fell with his breathing but she realized he no longer slept. His body tensed and the muscles beneath her cheek tightened.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I must have been cold.”

Jonas rolled toward her and his hands circled her waist. He pulled her close and kissed her and Kerstin felt a tingling deep within. His warm, languid kisses drugged her senses and left her breathless.

His abrasive chin brushed against her cheek,

strangely exotic and male. Deep inside, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. He gave her no moment to speak as he kept her mouth busy with his earth-shattering kisses, again and again, her cheeks, her temples, the tip of her nose, her neck and collar bone. As his hands caressed her, she thought she had never known such bliss. His touch left her panting and aching. She pressed closer until his heat fused with hers. His hands drifted across her skin, his fingers brushing over her with infinite gentleness.

“Don’t be shy, little one. I won’t harm you.” His voice sounded low and husky, soothing her sensitive nerves.

She closed her eyes against the exquisite sensations he drew from her body, the pain barely noticeable. When he kissed her again, she ceased to care what

recriminations remained unresolved between them.

Nothing existed in the world but him.

In the back of her mind, she could not forget what brought her to this point in time. Her heart ached for Elezer, the great man he could have been. How could she have been so wrong about him? How had she ever loved him? By his conniving deeds, he lost her respect and killed her love and it nearly broke her heart thinking 168

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about him.

“Oh, Elezer…”

Jonas jerked, his head lifting as he stared down at her. “What did you say?”

She stilled against him, her heart pounding. What
had
she said? By the goddess Freya, she hadn’t spoken Elezer’s name aloud! Or had she?

With a gasp of disbelief, she clenched her eyes closed for several moments.

Jonas stiffened, a low growl coming from his throat.

“Jonas!” he roared. “Speak my name, Kerstin. Jonas! Say it and remember your husband.”

She gasped at his fury, damning her own foolish

babbling. She had destroyed this special time and what little peace they might enjoy.

“I know your name, Jonas. How could I ever forget?”

Oh, what had she done? She had to make it right. “Jonas, it’s a misunderstanding. I was thinking about Elezer and all that he’s done to us and how he tried to—”

“Elezer?” He threw himself from the bed. “You were thinking about Elezer?”

“Nay! I mean, I—”

She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t explain. He would misinterpret anything she said.

****

forth like a caged tiger. A dog barked outside in the hall and a man yelled at the mongrel to shut up. Jonas glared at her, his heart filled with confusion. His insides crashed together with so much emotion it left him shaking. His mind roared with rage.

Elezer!

The fire in the brazier burned low, like his desire. He had shared with Kerstin what few husbands and wives ever experienced. A passion he never believed possible.

And
she
thought of another man.

Not just any man, but Elezer. The man Jonas had

come to hate more than any other.

Again, he had fallen under her spell. He submitted his desire to her, never realizing what power he gave her.

He should never forget who this woman was and what she had taken from him.

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Jonas sat on the bed, his elbows on his knees, his head resting in his hands. He scrubbed the nape of his neck, tensed and breathing hard. She still longed for Elezer. Even after he had shown himself to be a coward, she still wanted him. How could Jonas fight her magic?

How could he win her?

The bandage around his shoulder was too tight and he felt like ripping it off. He raised his head and stared at one wall, seeing nothing, his vision blurred with darkness.

His shoulder didn’t pain him. The hurt burned in his heart.

“I’ll change the bandage for you.” Her voice shook as she sat up on the bed.

He shot her a furious look. “Don’t move, Kerstin. Stay where you are.”

Kerstin froze. Could she not see how he battled

within himself? He wanted to pound something with his fists. Elezer’s face would do nicely.

With the stillness of a trapped rabbit, she watched as he stood up, walked to his discarded britches and jerked them on. He crunched the fragrant rushes beneath his feet as he fumbled for his shirt. Gritting his teeth, he ground them together. His feelings reminded him of the battle in the forest, just before he had sliced a man through with his sword.

A frenzy of fury. Blood lust. Rage.

How he wished Elezer were here, now. He would

teach the man a lesson he would never forget and end his life in an instant.

Walking to the door, Jonas paused and threw Kerstin a savage glare. Her shoulders slumped and tears

trembled on her lashes. Uncertainty and regret filled her eyes. Even now, his heart twisted with compassion for her.

He didn’t understand why or how Kerstin could have so much power over him. Must he seek out a spae-wife to exorcise her from his soul?

As he released a deep sigh, the fury drained from him. It wasn’t fair to blame Kerstin for being foolish enough to love Elezer. Two women he knew had done the same, conceived Elezer’s children, then been abandoned by him. Kerstin should see the cur for what he really was.

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Jonas’s heart clenched. Why couldn’t she love
him
the same way? What he wouldn’t give to hear his name whispered from her lips with love. Bitterness washed over him, cold and aching.

“I should have killed Elezer when I saw him last. I promise you, I’ll not pass up the opportunity again.”

Throwing the door wide, he stomped out.

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Through the open doorway, Kerstin could see into the outer hall. Light filtered in from the fire pit. Dawn lit the sky with the new day. A young boy called to his dog.

Somewhere outside, sheep bleated as he took them out to pasture. The dog barked, urging the sheep on. She didn’t need to see them to know the routine. It was much the same back at Moere.

Soon, the occupants of the hall would rise and be about their labors.

Where had Jonas gone? Would he desert her now?

How could she face his wrath?

Preferring to stay by herself for the time being, she snuggled into the warm bed, wishing she could remain there all day.

Jonas returned moments later, carrying a lighted

candle and a bucket of steaming water.

Kerstin blinked and watched him carefully. He

seemed calmer now, but he might still be angry. The hair at the nape of his neck was damp. Droplets of water beaded his shoulders and chest. He must have washed.

Placing the candle and bucket on the table, he indicated for her to make use of the water.

How kind of him. She expected cruelty.

Closing the door, he turned to finish dressing,

buckling on his sword, pulling on his shoes.

For modesty’s sake, Kerstin took several furs with her as she rose from the bed. She hoped Jonas would leave soon so she could bathe in privacy.

“I’ll be seeing to my ships most of the day,” Jonas spoke in a matter-of-fact tone as he brushed his hair with an antler comb. “My mother will direct you in what needs to be prepared for our departure. My men will need provisions for the trip.”

Kerstin stood in the middle of the room, her hands clenched around the soft furs. “But your wound isn’t 172

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healed yet. You’re leaving now?”

He glanced at her as he headed for the door.

“Tomorrow.”

And he was gone. Kerstin closed the door and sighed with relief. She had a few minutes to herself, then she would be expected to spend the day with Tovi—her

mother-in-law. She must not rouse the woman’s ire. No matter what was said, she must remain calm and keep her temper under control. When Jonas left tomorrow, she would be alone.

He was not strong enough to fight. If he died in

battle, could she return to her father at Moere, or be forced to remain here with people who hated her?

She could not imagine a vital man like Jonas dead.

Though she didn’t understand why, the thought of losing him upset her more than she could say.

Freya! Guard him well and bring him safely home.

Kerstin made good use of the water, then dressed

and picked up Jonas’s comb to tend her hair. She groaned aloud when she remembered how she had cried out

Elezer’s name. How disgusted Jonas must be with her.

A knock sounded on the door and Kerstin flinched.

Jonas never knocked and she didn’t want a confrontation with Tovi.

Standing in the middle of the room, she stared at the door, clasping her hands together as she considered possible places to hide. If she ignored them, they might think her asleep and go away. Shaking her head, she realized how foolish her thoughts were. She would face her future with pride and courage.

Pretending a confident stride, Kerstin opened the portal just a crack and peered out. Letta waited there, dressed in fresh clothing, her face washed, her hair combed.

“Good morning, Letta.” She opened the door and

Letta pushed by her.

With a sigh, Kerstin closed the door and turned to face her sister-in-law. Letta eyed Kerstin, as if inspecting her for damage. “I see you survived the night well enough.”

“You look well also,” Kerstin replied in a cool tone.

She was not about to tell Letta about her privacy with 173

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Jonas.

The bed creaked as Kerstin sat upon the mattress

and began to braid her hair. She watched Letta, her gaze searching for any lunacy. But she seemed her normal self.

How could this be? Had coming to their enemy’s home made Letta whole again? Thank the heavens! Kerstin had enough to worry about without Letta acting crazy.

“How do you find your accommodations?” Kerstin

asked.

Letta tilted her head and hunched her shoulders as she squatted over the brazier. “Much the same as it was at our home. Tovi has been kind. ‘Tis such a shame she’s the mother of that heathen you married. Her needlepoint is beautiful. She takes even smaller stitches than you. It will sadden me to see her grieve for her sons.”

Kerstin’s hand paused in mid-air. “Sons? What do

you mean?”

Letta looked over her shoulder. In her eyes, Kerstin could see the vague, faraway light of insanity. How quickly it returned.

Without warning, Letta gouged her fingernails

against her arm, drawing blood. “Jonas must die. It’s the only way you’ll be free of him.”

Kerstin gasped. She knelt beside her sister-in-law, clutching Letta’s shoulders with both hands and turned the woman to look at her. “Letta, listen to me. You mustn’t say such things. These people won’t take your words kindly.”

A slow smile spread across Letta’s face. “Perhaps Jonas will die in battle and save us the trouble of killing him.”

Kerstin shook her. “That’s an evil thing to say. Jonas is my husband.”

Letta threw back her head and laughed, high and

shrill. She thrust Kerstin away as she came to her feet and danced about the room, laughing hysterically. Kerstin cringed at the volume. They would hear her out in the hall. “Hush, Letta. Keep your voice down,” she urged, but Letta ignored her.

Coming to her feet, Kerstin spoke in muted tones, trying to calm her sister-in-law. The tactic had always 174

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worked before.

Letta sang louder, almost a shout, dodging Kerstin’s grasping hands.

“That’s enough!”

Kerstin turned and found Tovi standing in the

doorway, her arms folded. Her eyes were narrowed and angry, her mouth tight with disapproval.

Letta stopped and stared at the woman. All at once, the frightening madness vanished from Letta’s eyes, replaced by compliance. She stared at the floor, her face submissive, hands clasped together and shoulders

slumped.

Kerstin didn’t understand any of this.

“Letta, go direct the women in their sewing. I wish to have a few words with Kerstin.” Tovi’s voice held an edge of authority.