Chapter Eighteen #2
Oksana stood and perked her ears forward as if a soldier coming to attention, releasing a long howl that anyone who spoke ‘husky’ fluently meant she would do whatever it took to save her mistress. She might be getting a tad rounder from her pregnancy, but her energy remained impressive.
“’Tis all right if the Norsemen return with us, then?” I said to Alexander, understanding it was a lot to ask, given who they were.
“Aye,” he replied, generous indeed, speaking not just to his nature but to his respect for Astrid, who it seemed safe to say he considered a friend now.
“Whatever it takes. My men and I will deal with Gustav, then I will head your way so that I might question them further.” He glanced from the Norsemen to Astrid.
“Regardless, I made her a promise, and I intend to keep it so they are safe with your clan, Declan.”
Never more relieved, I nodded at the Norsemen, fully intending to learn Astrid's native language when she recovered because I had to believe she would.
Understanding what we needed to do, the men nodded in return, and one spoke to the healer. She, in turn, talked to the magistrate. “These men need to build a small sleigh as quickly as possible to suit her size, so find a translator, rouse a carpenter, and see that it gets done.”
“Aye,” he said, and left with the Norsemen in tow.
“Now, everyone but the innkeeper needs to leave whilst I undress this lass and see to her wound.” She tossed aside another bloody rag and pressed a fresh one to the wound, ordering the buxom woman behind the bar to do her bidding. “Over here, lass. You will be assisting me.”
“Aye, then,” the innkeeper said, almost as if this wasn’t the first time she’d been summoned to do something like this, ushering everyone along, including the king.
Leave Astrid’s side? Was I capable of such? It seemed impossible. I was her husband. I should be here. Always. Every last moment, she breathed air.
“Even you, laddie,” the old woman said softly after the others did as asked, her wise gaze lingering on where I held Astrid’s hand. Hell, when had I even taken it? “The sooner the better if you hope to leave soon.”
When she went to remove Astrid’s talisman, I shook my head, alarmed. “Nay, that must stay on her.”
“That cross will protect her well enough,” she promised, deftly removing the leather string attached to Astrid’s small, green stone, before I could stop her.
Peering up at me with eyes nearly the same shade as the talisman, she gestured at me.
“Now lean over, laddie.” She shook her head sharply. “I dinnae have all day.”
The woman clearly had a way with ordering people around because I did as she asked without further argument.
“And that—” she patted the stone once it hung around my neck, her gaze alight with wisdom when she looked at me— “will protect you.”
Before I could respond, she nudged me along, and though I loathed leaving Astrid, I had no choice but to tuck the talisman beneath my tunic where it wasn't so obvious and comply.
By the time I got outside, Alexander and the remainder of his men were preparing to pursue Gustav, who had taken his horse and fled, undoubtedly knowing the king would soon learn the truth.
“If need be, take some of the horses left by the MacGreggor traitors for swifter travel, Declan,” Alexander said.
“And their weapons for extra protection.” He clasped hands with me, hand to elbow, before departing.
“I wish you swift and safe travels, my friend. Take good care of her.” He squeezed ever so lightly and eyed me with more wisdom than his years. “Not that I need say it to you, aye?”
“Nay.” Yet again, I said what made sense, no matter what he thought he might have seen between Astrid and me inside. “I will see her returned safely to Da just as promised.”
“Aye, then.” Alexander swung onto his horse and nodded once at me. “I will see you again soon enough.”
I didn’t doubt he would, as he and his men raced off. Once he was out of sight, I pulled the talisman out from beneath my tunic, wanting Astrid to see it if she roused awake, so she wouldn’t worry about its whereabouts.
Snow had started to spit, and lightning flickered over the choppy loch as I joined Stewart and Oksana, and we checked on the Norse and their progress in making a sleigh.
From what I could tell, when the magistrate led us into a nearby building where a man sawed sturdy planks of wood, things were going well.
“According to these Norsemen, this sort of sleigh would travel faster on strips of metal,” the translator explained. “Yet there is no time to weld them, so they insist we rub the wood down with a special oil one of them has with him. He says it will help the sleigh slide more easily over the snow.”
“And what if we hit areas without snow?” I wondered, considering it could very well happen at this time of the year, the further south we went.
The translator asked the closest and largest of the three, with shoulders as broad as mine, clearly a man used to battling.
With a thick brown beard and dark, intelligent eyes, I sensed he ranked higher than the other two in his military.
His gaze lingered on Astrid’s talisman around my neck for a moment, almost as if he recognized it, before he responded to the translator.
“If there is no snow, then we carry the sleigh,” the Norseman said, shocking me because I understood his words this time when he had clearly spoken in his native tongue.
I was about to say as much, too, but I hesitated when Astrid’s talisman warmed against my chest, and I realized this must somehow be her seer magic at work, helping me protect her.
While I would have thought such was impossible before, now that I’d seen the things I had since meeting her, I didn’t doubt it in the least.
Sensing it was better not to admit I understood him in our current company, being superstitious Scots and all, I feigned ignorance and kept my silence.
Instead, I nodded at the Norseman that I understood after the translator told me, headed back to the tavern, and paced outside, desperate to return to Astrid’s side.
As it happened, by the time the tavern maid came out to get us, the old healer was gone.
“She claimed she didnae want your coin,” the tavern maid claimed, shaking her head.
She sauntered alongside Stewart, looking him over with invitation in her heavily painted eyes.
“I told her ‘twas foolish nae to take good coin, but she said nae from this one.” She rolled her eyes. “’Twould displease the Valkyries.” She snorted.
“And here I thought her a good Christian woman.”
I recalled Astrid mentioning that her talisman's magic had been derived from the Norse warrior goddesses called Valkyries, but I kept that to myself.
Instead, I focused on the here and now, never so relieved to find her still breathing when I returned to her side.
From what I could tell, the healer had done well tending to her wound and wrapping it with fresh bandages before seeing her into a fresh tunic.
“The healer left fresh bandages in this.” The tavern maid handed me a satchel. “As well as herbs to press into the wound. She said you and those you traveled with would know how to do the rest.”
“Aye.” I handed it to Stewart. “Many thanks, lass.”
Safe to be as I wished with Astrid now, I wrapped my fingers with hers, cupped her cool cheek, and dropped a soft kiss on her lips before murmuring in her ear that she best not leave me.
“Nae when I love you so bloody much, wife,” I whispered, praying she heard me. Heeded me, because I did not want to lose all we would share.
All the love.
The wee bairns that might someday be ours.
I knew I had no right to think such blatant thoughts, given what they might mean for my father, but I couldn’t help them. Could not help but press my forehead to our adjoined hands and continue praying she stayed with me.
“We are ready, my friend,” Stewart said a short while later, startling me when he rested his hand on my shoulder. “These Norsemen are efficient indeed.”
It turned out he was right when they carried in an interesting-looking sleigh suited to her size. Curled on the front, with handles on the side, they set it down and gestured for me to put her on it, so I did, gently scooping her up and laying her on top.
Moving swiftly, they wrapped several furs around her, including her hooded bear fur, tucking the material so she could breathe while remaining protected from the elements.
Then, moving right along, they gently wrapped straps across her so she would not slide off.
With a man on either side, they lifted the sleigh and headed out into what had become a very snowy night.
They had attached a harness of sorts to Astrid’s white horse, Wyvern, then hooked it to the sleigh, allowing her to pull Astrid. The largest of the Norsemen gestured at Wyvern and spoke to the translator.
“He wishes to be the first one to ride Astrid’s horse,” the translator told me. “He claims she is the best horse for this task, and you will learn how to pull such precious cargo by watching him.”
While that was asking a lot, when I looked into the Norseman's eyes, I saw only a desire to help, and felt only trust when the talisman warmed.
“Aye,” I replied, nodding at him. “’Twill be as you wish.” I could not help the warning in my voice. “Travel safely with her.”
Even though the translator relayed the message and the man nodded, I sensed he understood the gist of my words anyway.
So, after I saw Astrid’s belongings, including her shield and blade strapped to my horse, we set out for Mackay Castle with Oksana running alongside Astrid’s sleigh on a journey I could only pray my lass lived through.