Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-one
A dull, persistent ache tugged Eadlyn toward waking, but it wasn’t the pain that drew her fully to consciousness.
It was the warmth. The familiar safety of solid arms wrapped around her.
She was lying on his chest, his breaths slow and even beneath her, the sound of his strong heartbeat in her ear.
For a moment she feared it might be a dream, but the comfort was too real.
She sighed, sinking deeper into his hold.
She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to let go.
Not yet. Not while this fragile peace still held.
Yet memories pressed in, as creeping as shadows.
The seer’s dark eyes. The blade glinting above her.
The rough stone at her back. Panic had overwhelmed her so utterly that, even now, she tensed as though she were still tied there, waiting to die.
She curled closer, gripping Aevar’s tunic. His arms pulled her in, holding her securely as his thumb traced slow circles against her arm. Each pass of his touch soothed something frayed within her, and the tightness in her chest loosened.
She was safe. She was alive. God had not abandoned her. He had protected her in the direst of circumstances and brought Aevar and the others to her right when they were most needed.
Thank you.
For a while, she drifted in and out of the edge of sleep. Outside, the warble of birdsong rose with the waking village. Beyond the door, voices murmured. She shifted, trying to sit up, but a sharp lance of pain shot through her shoulder. She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Let me help you.”
Aevar’s voice came low and immediate. He shifted beneath her, easing her upright and bracing her as the world tipped. Dizziness wrapped around her. His palm smoothed over her back in wide, reassuring strokes. “It will be sore for a few days.”
She breathed through her nose as the pain subsided from blinding to tolerable.
His fingers brushed the hair from her face, lingering at her brow and her cheek as if checking for fever.
Then he slipped out of the bed and lit a few lamps.
They chased away the cool shadows, filling the room with a gentle glow.
“I’ll see if the healer is nearby to check your wound,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
When the door closed behind him, she let her gaze wander around the little room. The space was smaller than their chamber at home. Homesickness nudged her, but she offered silent thanks she would return home. That she’d survived to experience that longing again.
Aevar returned not long after with the healer from yesterday at his side. Her hands were gentle and capable as she peeled back the bandage and examined the wound.
“It looks like it will heal well,” she murmured. “No swelling or signs of fever.”
She cleaned the area and re-wrapped it with fresh linen.
The tugging of the bandage and the exposure of tender skin made Eadlyn wince, but Aevar was there, holding her hand the whole time.
When it was over, he helped her dress, his hands gentle as he eased the sleeve over her injured arm and secured the sling.
He found a comb and sat beside her again, working through the tangles in her hair.
The rhythmic pull of the comb lulled her, each stroke smoothing more than just knots.
“There,” he said, finishing a braid and tucking it over her shoulder.
Eadlyn sighed. It felt good to be clean and dressed, but she touched the empty space where her arm ring had once rested. It was only silver, yes, but she hadn’t realized how much the weight of it had comforted her.
Aevar stood and crossed the room, picking up something from among his things on the table. As he turned, an object caught the light.
Eadlyn gasped. “You found it!”
He nodded and returned to her side. With the same care as when he’d first given it to her, he slid the ring back up her arm, settling it into place.
“The woman told me Sig had it.” Though his voice was calm, his shoulders remained stiff, and fire lingered behind his eyes as he studied her face. He leaned in and kissed her, tender and full of emotion. Then he drew back, his voice low but intense. “I love you.”
The words weren’t new, but they were different somehow. They carried urgency, as if it were imperative he say them in case he somehow lost the chance.
Eadlyn slid her hand into his and squeezed it. “I love you too.”
Aevar let out a breath like a weight leaving his chest. He stood, brushing her hair with his fingers one last time before saying, “I’ll wash up, and we’ll go have breakfast. Jodis is making tea to help with your pain.”
The idea of food made her stomach growl, the first pangs of hunger cutting through her fatigue.
As Aevar stripped off his tunic and washed with the rag from the basin, Eadlyn watched him, taking in every familiar line of him. Her mind wandered, still dazed from exhaustion, until she blinked and realized something was missing.
“Where is your pendant?” From the time she’d met him, she had never seen him without it for long. He even wore it to bed most nights, but she had not seen it since he’d rescued her.
Aevar looked over his shoulder, then turned to her with a slow, meaningful smile. “At the bottom of a river somewhere southeast of here.”
“Why?”
He came to sit beside her again and took her hand, his gaze unwavering. “Because I don’t need it. My faith is in God now.”
The weight of his words washed over her, stealing her breath. Tears sprang up so fast she couldn’t even wipe them away. “Truly?”
He nodded, the truth shining in his eyes. “Yes.”
Eadlyn leaned into him, resting her forehead against his as the tears kept flowing with emotion too vast to name.
They were truly one now. Not just in body or vow but in faith.
No more fearing for his soul. No more begging God to reach him.
He had come of his own free will. And now she understood the purpose behind their pain and the waiting.
They had come through the fire and were still standing. Together.
Though the pain lingered, as Aevar had predicted, each day brought Eadlyn more relief.
The healer’s tea dulled the ache in her shoulder enough to allow her to sleep at night, and with food, shelter, and Aevar never far from her side, her strength returned.
The weight of captivity fell away piece by piece, like the remnants of a nightmare chased away by morning light.
By the fourth morning in Kjolur, her steps were steady, no longer dragged down by exhaustion. When Aevar helped her tie the sling around her arm, she caught the small smile on his face.
“What is it?” she asked.
His smile deepened. “It’s just good to see you recovering and doing well.”
For a heartbeat they were silent, savoring each other’s presence. Then he kissed her forehead, and they left the room.
In the hall, Aevar’s father turned to meet them, and his weathered face softened. Like Aevar, Eadlyn read the relief in his expression.
“Gudrik is preparing us a ship to return to Fjellheim,” he said.
They had decided the river was the best route home, faster and less taxing than the long, rough ride by land. Ingvald and a few of the huskarls would take the horses south, but the rest would travel with her and Aevar downriver.
Runar held her gaze. “Are you up for traveling?”
“Yes,” she answered at once.
Though Kjolur had offered peace and safety, her heart longed for home. For the comfort of Inga’s mothering and Ranvi’s sisterly affection. For the children’s laughter. In Fjellheim, the last remnants of this ordeal could finally heal.
“Good,” Runar said. “We will leave once we’ve eaten.”
Across the hall, Heida lingered by the hearth where Jodis oversaw breakfast. She had been quieter than usual since they’d arrived, even here, in the place where she grew up.
Eadlyn touched Aevar’s arm. “I’ll be right back.”
Heida straightened as she approached. Ready to help. Ready to act. She’d been like that ever since the rescue, always making sure Eadlyn had what she needed. Food. A cup of tea. A place to rest.
But Eadlyn had no need of anything right now, except to share what was on her mind. “I know you feel guilty I was taken.”
Heida’s mouth twitched, half grimace, half confession, and her eyes dropped.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Eadlyn assured her. “You couldn’t take on all three of them yourself.”
Heida sighed, and her shoulders slumped enough to betray the weight she carried. “I know. I just wish I’d seen it coming and could have prevented all this.” She looked at the sling around Eadlyn’s arm. “I should’ve been able to protect you. That’s why I was there.”
The words were quiet but carried iron. She felt she’d failed, but Eadlyn did not want her carrying that burden.
“It wasn’t about what you could or couldn’t do. I gave myself up to save Trygg. That was my decision. And I would make it again.”
For a moment, Heida said nothing, her jaw taut. Then her face softened. Though she’d never been as affectionate as Ranvi, Eadlyn saw how much she cared.
“That was very brave of you.”
Eadlyn shrugged her good shoulder. “That’s what family does. They sacrifice for each other.”
Heida smiled, and they turned toward the breakfast table together.
Their last meal in the longhouse was unhurried, the mood light despite the looming departure.
They had come here on the edge of death and fear, and to leave now in peace was worth savoring.
When they finished, the men busied themselves with supplies, while Jodis directed thralls to carry food and furs down to the river.
Eadlyn reached for a bundle to help only to have Kian all but bat her hand away.
“Not you.” He wagged a finger at her. “Your only job is staying on your feet.”
Eadlyn laughed and shook her head at him.
Even Braan fussed, handing her a soft cloak he must have gotten from Jodis and muttering something about keeping warm while they were still so far north. Aevar said little, but she noticed how he lingered at her side, his body always angled protectively, even here where no danger lurked.
Belongings in tow, they gathered near the entrance of the longhouse.
Here, Gudrik and his youngest son waited, packs slung over their shoulders.
During Eadlyn’s time in Kjolur, Gudrik had been surprisingly gentle, offering not just quiet kindness but respect.
He never hovered or coddled like the others, but he always made sure her needs were met.
Now, however, the warrior broke through.
Fierce, ready, and unmistakably dangerous as he faced Runar.
“Bard and Sven will remain here to guard the border and make sure Drocca stays where he belongs, but Viljar and I and some of my men will join you. If Staegar wants to fight, I mean to be there.”
His words fell heavily, stripping away the fragile peace of the moment.
Despite Eadlyn’s rescue, the whole ordeal that had brought her here was not yet resolved.
Staegar remained a threat that must be addressed.
He had betrayed his king, tried to destroy the alliance with Essix by having her kidnapped, and sought to form his own connection with an enemy kingdom.
On a political level, the offense could not be forgiven or allowed to go unpunished.
Blood would be shed, and all Eadlyn could do was pray that only the guilty would suffer for his crimes.
One by one, they exchanged farewells with Gudrik’s family. Jodis hugged Eadlyn gently, and Heida’s brothers offered respectful nods, their expressions solemn but kind. Despite the pain that had brought them together, Eadlyn was grateful for them.
They made their way down the slope to the river. The air was crisp up here in the far mountains. Below them, the water glimmered under the morning sunlight. Aevar kept his hand pressed to her back on the way down as if he feared she might stumble, though the path was not steep.
At the docks, two ships waited, both long and sleek.
A canopy stretched over the stern of one, sheltering a bed of furs Eadlyn guessed was meant for her.
In the other vessel, Asfrid and Dagr sat bound near the bow.
Their expressions were blank and unreadable.
Eadlyn tried not to look too long. She didn’t know what she felt toward them.
She was thankful for how they had protected her from Sig, but they had still handed her over to the Kalgorans.
Erik reached the gangplank first and turned to help Eadlyn across.
Aevar was right behind her, keeping his hand at her elbow.
As the rest of the party climbed aboard, the men settled at the oars, their movements fluid and practiced.
With a call from Gudrik, the longships pushed off, the water parting beneath the hulls.
Eadlyn stood in the center of the ship, Aevar beside her. The wind tugged at her braid, and the fresh smell of river and pine filled her lungs. As the land slipped by with the rhythm of oars, she leaned into Aevar’s side and his arm curved around her. They were going home.