Chapter 42 #2
Fathir looked past Staegar to the men flanking him. “We have no quarrel with you. This is not your war. You need not follow him.”
The line stirred. Some exchanged glances. A few shifted their weapons as though reconsidering.
Staegar shot a death glare down the line. “Cowards! Anyone who stands down today forfeits the right to call himself a warrior.”
When his gaze swung back to them, Aevar knew it was over. There would be no negotiating.
“Shields up!” Staegar roared.
The clamor of wood snapped into position all down the line.
“Attack!”
Staegar’s men surged forward like a wave of iron and fury, battle cries tearing the air.
The thunder of boots tremored in the ground.
Aevar slammed his shield into place and braced for impact.
They met in a crash, metal on metal, wood on wood.
The force drove through Aevar’s bones, almost buckling his knees.
A blade scraped against the rim of his shield, just missing his face.
He shoved hard, ramming his sword into the man’s belly.
The warrior dropped with a strangled cry, swallowed by the churn of bodies.
Another came fast, swinging high. Aevar ducked and smashed his shield upward. The rim caught the man’s jaw with a crunch. Aevar didn’t wait. He thrust low, his sword biting into flesh. The warrior collapsed at his feet.
But there was no pause. A third man rushed him, roaring. Aevar turned the strike with his shield. He slammed his shoulder forward, driving the warrior back, then cut deep into his thigh. The man fell, clutching at his wound, and Aevar dragged in a breath as sweat stung his eyes.
A shadow loomed.
Aevar spun, ducking as a sword whistled past his head.
His shield came up by instinct. Staegar stood before him.
Eadlyn’s face flashed in his mind, and what she had suffered, but his focus narrowed to survival.
Blood and iron choked the air. Staegar’s face twisted with loathing, his eyes ablaze.
With a snarl, he charged, hacking at Aevar’s defenses.
His attacks were relentless and brutal, but not wild like Sig’s.
Each swing was honed by years of experience and battles.
Aevar blocked one attack after another. His shield rattled under the strain, and one savage strike splintered its edge.
He struck back, low and swift, but Staegar pivoted and slammed his shield into Aevar’s ribs.
The force jolted through his leather armor, and pain lanced his side.
Aevar gritted his teeth, sweeping his blade up, but Staegar slipped away.
With a savage roar, he drove his shield straight into Aevar’s face.
The world snapped white. Aevar stumbled and dropped to one knee, blood filling his mouth.
He lashed out blindly. Staegar kicked him hard in the chest, knocking him into the dirt.
Aevar caught himself with one hand, teeth bared.
He lunged, blade carving a line across Staegar’s knee.
Staegar cursed and brought his sword down, but Aevar rolled and came up inside his guard.
He drove his shoulder into the man’s gut.
They staggered together in a knot of limbs, slipping in blood and gore.
Staegar’s elbow cracked against Aevar’s skull.
He hit the ground hard, the air punching from his lungs.
Everything blurred as the world tilted beneath him.
Blood roared in his ears, drowning out the battle.
Faint and distant, someone screamed his name.
He groped for his weapons and found his sword.
He wrapped his fingers around the hilt, which was slick with blood or sweat, but his shield was gone.
Staegar loomed above him, shadowed against the sky.
Aevar fought to stand, his vision swimming. The clouds wheeled as he forced his legs beneath him. He raised his sword. Eadlyn’s face came again. Her smile. Her tears. He would not break his promise.
He reached for his seax as Staegar lifted his sword, but a voice shouted Staegar’s name.
Staegar hesitated and looked back. Silver flashed.
He jolted, and Aevar caught a gurgling sound as Staegar stumbled backward.
Fathir stood just beyond him, the edge of his sword stained crimson.
Swaying, Staegar dropped to his knees and then toppled face first into the dirt at Fathir’s feet.
Aevar gasped for air, blinking the world back into focus.
Around him, the battlefield grew quiet. The clang of iron gave way to groans of the wounded, shuffling feet, and the heavy silence of death.
Some of Staegar’s men retreated toward the settlement in the distance.
Others dropped their swords and shields with a hollow clatter of surrender.
He turned in place as his heart thumped his battered ribcage. His brothers, Kian, and Heida all still stood, streaked with sweat and blood but alive. So did the other jarls. Viljar walked with a limp, his pant leg bloodied, but he waved off help from Heida.
Then Aevar faced his father again. Their eyes met, and he gave him a grateful nod.
As Fathir turned to give orders, Aevar closed his eyes and breathed another ragged breath, savoring it after how close he’d come to never taking another.
How close he’d come to breaking his promise to Eadlyn.
Tipping his head toward the sky, he whispered, “Thank you.”
Night had settled like a heavy blanket over the longhouse, quiet but oppressive. The fire in the hearth burned low. Eadlyn sat near it, staring at the embers. The warmth of roasted meat and fresh bread lingered from earlier, tempting and comforting, yet her appetite recoiled.
The hours since the men had marched off to confront Staegar had stretched like years.
Every minute passed with the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her, imagined horrors attacking her mind.
What if they had walked into a trap? What if Staegar had prepared more than anyone had guessed? What if Aevar was dead?
She breathed through her nose, forcing those thoughts away, and reached up to grasp the cross necklace she’d put on right after Aevar left. But even when met with faith, the fear was hard to silence.
A gentle hand settled on her shoulder. Eadlyn looked up into Ranvi’s kind eyes. Worry lived there too, beneath the calm surface, but so did strength. Ranvi gave her a soft, reassuring smile and set a steaming cup of tea on the table beside her. “Drink this. It will help calm your nerves.”
Eadlyn took the mug gratefully. The sweet scent of honey and chamomile floated upward, soothing her. She sipped slowly.
“I suppose this isn’t the first time you’ve had to wait like this.”
Ranvi sat beside her. “No.”
“Is there anything that helps?”
Ranvi considered the question for a moment. “Only the understanding that they go because they must. And they go for us. It’s not just battle they face. It’s the burden of protecting those they love.”
Eadlyn wrapped her fingers around the cross again. Please, Lord. Bring them back to us. At least she had the certainty God was with Aevar.
The door creaked open.
She turned with a start. Light from the lamps spilled over the threshold, catching the figures that stepped inside.
Runar entered first. Then Aevar. A sharp gasp tore from Eadlyn’s chest, and she shot to her feet.
Her knees almost gave beneath her from sheer relief, but she didn’t care. He was here. He was alive.
She hurried from the table, and he met her halfway.
Dried blood flaked around his nose and brow and streaked his jaw, but he moved under his own strength.
She looked him over, searching for deeper wounds or signs of pain.
She spied bruises and scrapes, but his eyes, when they met hers, were clear and filled with warmth.
His hands found her arms and drew her in.
She stepped into his hold without hesitation.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said, quiet but steady.
“What happened?”
“Staegar chose to fight. He attacked me during the battle, no doubt hoping to break the alliance with my death.”
Eadlyn held his gaze unwaveringly. “And you killed him?”
Aevar shook his head. “No. My father struck the final blow.” His hand rose, thumb brushing her cheek. “I thought of you when I faced him, like you said. But my only desire in that moment was staying alive so that I could return to you.”
Eadlyn smiled and melted into him as he drew her in for a soft kiss.
As they parted, she searched his face. “So it’s over now?”
“It’s over. One of Staegar’s cousins is now jarl and has already sworn fealty to my father. He seems to be a much more reasonable man. With Staegar and Sig gone, there will be no more threats from Ormvik.”
“And Oda?”
“No one in Ormvik has seen her. We will keep searching, but no doubt she has fled far from here where she thinks her actions won’t catch up to her. She has no allies left. You do not need to worry.”
A deep breath eased from Eadlyn’s lungs, and for the first time in days, all the tension left her body.
He was home.
They both were.
The morning air cooled Eadlyn’s face, crisp and carrying the mustiness of dry leaves and smoke from morning hearths.
Autumn would soon take hold of the land.
Though the afternoons remained warm, the nights and mornings had grown chilly.
The harvest was being gathered in earnest, along with preparations for Braan and Heida’s wedding to take place in only a few days’ time.
Eadlyn looked forward to the celebration and to seeing the two of them finally united.
A perfect way to put the last lingering shadows of the trouble with Staegar behind all of them.
Behind her, the longhouse door shut. Aevar stepped out, his sword belted at his side, though she hoped he wouldn’t have need of it again anytime soon.
His boots crunched as he crossed to her.
He didn’t speak, just reached for her hand as naturally as breathing.
She took it, lacing her fingers with his.
Together they walked, their pace unhurried.
The sun rose higher, highlighting the leaves that were turning gold and crimson.
The chill nipped at Eadlyn’s cheeks and nose, but her heart was warm beneath her shawl, full to bursting.
Here, in this place she had once feared, she had found a life that was hers.
She leaned into Aevar, wrapping her free hand around his arm. Though he was gone most of the day to help with the harvest, every moment together was a blessing she cherished. While winter would bring its own challenges, it would allow them extra time to share with each other.
At the shoreline, they stopped. The fjord stretched out before them in perfect stillness, a mirror of the sky and flame-colored leaves. Quiet wrapped around them, not heavy, but something almost sacred. They bowed their heads in prayer.
Eadlyn closed her eyes, and the words poured from her heart.
Thankfulness for safety, healing, and for the husband beside her.
She prayed for the future, for wisdom, for grace, and for strength in whatever storms might still come.
Beside her, Aevar’s voice murmured. His prayer was almost inaudible, but the fact that it existed at all still made her soul lift with wonder.
When the silence stretched long enough, she turned to him. Nerves twinged in her belly, and she touched her hand to it. She’d suspected for a week now. Inga and Ranvi had confirmed it yesterday, and she’d waited for the right moment to tell him. Now, standing here, it was time.
Aevar smiled at her but seemed to sense she had something on her mind. “What is it?”
“I have something to tell you. I think it may cause some fear, but I hope it brings more joy.” She reached for his hand and placed it against her stomach. “I’m with child.”
Aevar stilled, his eyes widening. He dropped his gaze to her belly, where his hand rested as if he might feel the truth through her skin.
His fingers twitched, and his throat worked as he swallowed.
Emotion bloomed across his face in layers—shock, fear…
and then something so deep it stole her breath.
He exhaled as though it was the first time he’d breathed in full since she’d spoken. “You’re certain?”
“Yes.” She blinked at the sting of tears. “I am.”
His hand stayed on her belly as he leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead.
“It does bring me joy,” he whispered.
Relief cascaded through her, loosening the tightness in her chest. She had known he would love this child—she had never doubted that—but she’d feared the pain of the past would overshadow the miracle of the present. Instead, his eyes held hope.
“I know it might not be easy,” she said, “but I want you to remember everything God has already done for us. How He carried us through every dark moment. How He brought us together. He’s with us now too.”
Memories flowed through her mind. The first time she’d seen him, the long road to trust, the aching fear of being taken from him, and the unshakable strength of his arms when he had found her again.
“I was so afraid to come here, but God did so much more than I ever could have imagined. He didn’t just give me the security I sought for Essix, He gave me a home and a family and a husband I love dearly.
He has also given us this child and a new path to walk together.
But, above all, He has given us life beyond this one no matter what happens. ”
She reached into the small pouch on her belt and pulled out a simple leather cord. “This is to help you always remember and take comfort in that.” She opened her hand. A silver cross pendant rested there. “I had Tallak make it for you.”
Aevar took it reverently, turning it over in his fingers. The corners of his mouth lifted. “Between the two of us, he’ll never lack for work.”
Eadlyn laughed. “He said much the same.”
Aevar slipped the cord over his head, the cross settling against his chest. It looked right there, contrasting so brightly against his dark tunic. He reached for her, drawing her into his arms with care that was fierce and tender all at once. His voice was rough when he whispered in her ear.
“Tahk fyr, ást mín.”