Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Tiny ice pellets pattered against Eadlyn’s cloak, creating a shushing sound that muffled even the persistent thump of hooves. It lulled her into a strange, uneasy numbness. Nightfall must be close.
They’d crossed the river hours ago, swallowed since by a dense gray forest. Last year’s leaves carpeted the ground, damp and silent underfoot.
Patches of snow clung in shaded heaps. Eadlyn had never seen a forest without leaves before.
She’d hardly seen any forest at all, only the scraggly trees near Kenwich, which passed more for oversized bushes than woodland.
Here, sharp, skeletal branches reached skyward like clawed fingers.
She shivered, tugging her cloak tighter. The cold here hit differently. It seeped through the layers of her clothing and into her bones. What she wouldn’t give to be back at the palace, curled up by the hearth. She exhaled, her breath rising in a white plume, and another tremor ran through her.
Eadlyn startled when Aevar’s voice shattered the hush, commanding and foreign.
The group halted, and Jarl Runar turned in his saddle to look back but said nothing.
From beneath her hood, she watched Aevar turn his horse around and ride farther down the line to one man leading a packhorse.
Leaning over the animal, he dug through the bundle on its back and pulled out a fur pelt.
He then guided his horse once more toward the front.
As he approached again, he nudged the horse alongside hers, so close their legs brushed.
Her breath caught as he leaned toward her and draped the thick pelt around her shoulders.
“Fur is the best way to keep warm out here.”
He had noticed she was cold. That small, unexpected kindness stirred an odd, yet grateful sensation within her, and the thick fur began working immediately. No wonder they all wore mantles like it.
“Thank you.”
He glanced down at her wool-lined boots. “Are your feet warm enough?”
“For now.” They were a little chilled but not unbearable.
“We won’t be riding much longer. We’ll need to make camp before dark.”
The group moved on in silence, but now that it had been broken, the stillness fell heavier than before. Surely Nords weren’t such silent creatures all the time. It would go against what most written accounts said of them. Not that she was inclined to believe such things now that she was among them.
With a breath for courage, she shifted in her saddle to face Aevar. She still struggled to wrap her mind around the fact that he was her husband now. “How far do we have to travel?”
“If the weather does not delay us, we will arrive the day after tomorrow.”
Two nights. Her first two nights as a married woman. A shiver traced down her spine, though not from the chill this time. She pushed the thought aside and reached for something more comfortable.
“What is it like where we’re going?”
This time, Aevar smiled faintly. “Fjellheim sits at the head of a fjord that winds west toward the sea. A river flows into it from the north and provides access to some of the other clans.”
Eadlyn tried to picture it. She was not well-traveled and had nothing to draw on, though she had read a little about the northern fjords in her hasty research. “It sounds beautiful.”
His smile grew with fondness. “It is.”
Kian, riding ahead beside the Nord with the scar near his eye, turned in his saddle and grinned back at her. “Especially later in spring when the trees turn green. It’s quite a view.”
Despite the weight pressing on her, Eadlyn smiled.
However small, a spark of curiosity lit within her.
All her life, she’d lived within the confines of Kenwich.
Her journey to meet the Nords had been the farthest she’d ever traveled.
For the first time, she realized she was eager—just a little—to see what lay ahead.
They lapsed into silence again, though not as heavy this time. The tight coil of tension that had gripped her throughout the afternoon loosened, and they traveled companionably for another hour.
When the forest grew dim, Jarl Runar raised a hand and called a halt. “We’ll camp here.”
Eadlyn was grateful to dismount. Her legs ached from the long day’s ride. At least the freezing rain had ceased. She shook out her cloak, dislodging the icy pellets that clung to it, and looked around, unsure what she was supposed to do.
Aevar stepped around his horse and approached her. “Let me take your horse for you.”
“Oh. Thank you.” She handed over Hiroc’s reins, acutely aware she didn’t know the first thing about unsaddling a horse. There had always been someone around to handle such things.
Aevar led Hiroc away to where the other horses were gathered, leaving her standing alone.
Around her, the men fell into their routines, some tending the animals, others collecting wood and clearing a space for a fire.
Eadlyn would have liked to help, but she had neither an axe nor the skills to be useful.
So, she did the only thing she knew and stayed out of the way.
A few minutes later, Aevar returned, carrying her bags.
He set them near a tree close to where the first fire crackled.
Another group was working on a second one.
Eadlyn hesitated. She was used to being surrounded primarily by men, but what was she to these warriors?
Was she welcome among them or more of an inconvenience? A means to an end?
Before deciding how she wanted to proceed, Aevar approached her.
Her breath grew shallow in his presence.
She did not know what to expect from him or what he might want from her.
Even now, hours after being married, they’d traded but a handful of words between them.
While he’d been kind and made sure she was warm on the trail, he’d also cared for the horses.
Even livestock was well tended before being slaughtered for food.
“You should warm yourself by the fire,” he said, gesturing to the flames.
Asking God to change her cynical thoughts, Eadlyn accepted the invitation, and he joined her at the fire. While the fur mantle had helped, the heat from the flames to her chilled fingers and face was welcome. It chased away and dried out the dampness of the weather her cloak did not fully ward off.
Her thoughts drifted to Edward. He would be on the road too. Perhaps already sitting around a fire with Oswin and Galen. She imagined their voices and laughter, and her heart squeezed. How strange to know life in Essix went on without her.
Aevar’s voice broke into her thoughts before they dragged her into melancholy.
“I realize there haven’t been proper introductions.”
She turned her gaze toward him as he gestured to his left.
“Kian you’ve met, though he no doubt failed to mention he’s King Toryn’s nephew.”
Kian gave Aevar a playful smack on the arm. “Favorite nephew, thank you.”
Eadlyn never guessed him to be related to royalty. But then, in their rugged gear, she wouldn’t have taken Jarl Runar or Aevar for royalty either had they met under different circumstances. “You’re the king’s nephew, but you live here? In Nordra?”
Kian grinned. “I do.”
“May I ask why?”
“More peaceful. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but they are…a handful.” He tossed a teasing grin at Aevar. “And someone’s got to keep this one out of trouble.”
Aevar rolled his eyes. “Speak for yourself.”
He turned, motioning across the fire to the tall Nord with the animal tattoos. “This is my eldest brother, Erik.”
The man inclined his head. “Princess.”
“And my other brother, Braan,” Aevar continued, gesturing to the scarred man, who gave a single, silent nod.
So she had been right. They were the jarl’s sons.
“You’ve met my father,” Aevar added. “The rest are our warriors.”
He introduced each of them. She did her best to remember the unfamiliar names and offered a polite smile and warm greeting as her governess had taught her.
She was still a princess, even out here in the wilderness, and if she wanted to be a light for God in this strange land, she had to start now, no matter how fear lingered.
These men were no less loved and made in God’s image than she was.
That thought helped ease the tightness in her chest.
Now she needed to get to know them better. Left up to them, she would never learn anything.
She shifted her attention away from Aevar, who still made her stomach constrict in strange ways, and turned to Erik instead. “Do you have any sisters? Or other brothers?”
Though they’d only heard of the three sons in Essix, information between kingdoms was often lacking.
They’d discussed asking Jarl Runar if he had a daughter for Edward to marry, but Oswin had counseled that bringing a foreigner into Essix when things were so unsettled might not sit well with the nobles.
Eadlyn had agreed. Better she marry than risk more unrest.
Erik shook his head. “None who survived infancy.”
“I’m sorry,” Eadlyn responded, hoping to convey her genuine regret.
He gave a shrug. “It’s life.” His eyes darted to Aevar, something passing between them before he focused back on her. “What about you? Is it only you and your brother?”
“Yes. Our mother died before she had more children.” She considered saying no more, but if she wanted to become part of this family, she must find the courage to speak more freely among them. Timidity wouldn’t get her very far. “It’s just as well. My father didn’t deserve more.”
Her frankness seemed to amuse Braan because he snorted, and it raised a smirk to Erik’s face as he said, “Given his reputation, I’d agree.”
Eadlyn chanced a peek at Aevar and found a smirk tugging at his mouth as well. At least she was engaging with them.
Once both fires blazed in the gathering gloom, the group sat close and passed around pouches filled with dried meat, berries, and various nuts. Not a feast, but after the long day, Eadlyn welcomed it eagerly.