Chapter 22
RASHA
My longboat is surrounded by a flaming fjord.
Waves rock back and forth, licking the sides of the wood.
Burning hair and flesh sting my nose and eyes.
Blinking my surroundings into focus, I can see my torso is secured to the bench with rope.
I try to turn around on the bench, but fire scalds the sea as far as I can see.
The boat rocks up and down in swells larger than I remember, and I try to pat my dress down for the amulet.
“Aslaug!” I am screaming, but I can’t hear myself. I try to scream her name over and over again. Maybe I am screaming for him too.
Fire-kissed water dumps into the boat as the waves crest higher around me. Yanking my hands back and forth, I am stuck, tied to the burning boat with nothing and no one. My skin sweats with each lick of the blaze.
Rasha
I hear my name, but it’s so far away, and I cannot row. The oars are gone; they must have slipped away or burned. Wood splits, and flames erupt over my legs, and I thrash against the sinking boat.
Rasha
More insistent now, my name is being called, and I try to call back, but my chest hurts. My muscles throb like I am burning from the inside out. I want to fight the flames with my arms, but nothing moves.
“Rasha!” Bolting up at his voice, I gasp for air. Shaw’s arms are securing me to his chest, but I push away. He releases me, and I move to the edge of the bed, throwing the blankets off.
“The amulet? Where’s the amulet?” I croak out, patting around the bed in a frenzy.
“It’s here.”
“Where?”
“In the quiver. You were having a nightmare,” he explains. I know he’s right, but I squeeze my eyes shut anyway. “You’re safe.” Another comforting word comes from the man I yelled at earlier.
His hand touches the tense muscles in my back. My tears have no more barriers and fall in earnest down my face, into my lap. I dry heave as I move to leave the bed, afraid I might vomit. Shaw swings his legs over and is suddenly kneeling at my feet.
“Breathe, it was just a dream.” He rubs my legs up my knees and down the backside of my calves. “I heard you screaming for me.” His voice shakes, and I grip his shoulders, trying to hold onto something real.
“I was on fire in the sea.” I gasp between sobs. My nose is wet with tears, dripping down my chin in salty rivers.
“You’re safe. You will always be safe within these walls,” he whispers, and I give up.
Sliding off the bed and into his lap, I feel him pull me to his chest, holding me close as I let my sadness take over.
I didn’t cry on the way to Yule, no matter how much I wanted to over the many days of arguing and fighting with Jorvik.
I had to be strong for the clan and the women.
They couldn’t see me falter. But here in the dark, when I have nothing else to be strong for, the tears cleanse me.
Aslaug scoots close, resting her body against us on the floor, as if she knows the grief in my heart. Shaw strokes my hair and down my back in slow circles while my body settles. The memories of fire are still there, but not as threatening.
“I didn’t mean to yell.” I sniffle up at him, and he takes the corner of the blanket, wiping under my eyes and across my nose.
“Don’t worry about it. You have every right to be frustrated. I didn’t come in because I thought it would be best.”
“It’s your room,” I reply, resting my head against his shoulder.
“Do you want me to stay here?” he asks, loosening his arms to allow me to lean back and look at him.
“If you can handle the occasional frustrated Maiden, then yes.”
He chuckles, which makes me feel like I said something right, and picks me up. Aslaug jumps onto the end of the bed like she’s finally getting her comfy spot back, and Shaw tucks me into the pillows.
“I’ll be right back.” He leaves, and I sit up to pet Aslaug. She’s warm and fuzzy, which is comforting. Shaw comes back with fresh wood and lights a fire in the hearth in the corner of the bedroom. The crackle of a new flame makes me clench the cat’s fur tighter.
Aslaug shows me her big, white fangs, and I let go.
Almost launching halfway out of the bed when the bright-orange sparks shoot out over the dry wood.
Shaw moves besides me, taking my face in his hands, but I can’t focus on him.
My gaze darts between the fire rustling in the corner and his rich hazel eyes.
“You’re a hunter, Rasha. You can be afraid and keep moving at the same time,” he instructs, and we lay down, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“This nightmare is so different from any other. I have no control,” I murmur into the darkness. Shaw’s scent envelopes me in the comfort I’ve grown surprisingly used to.
“If you want to regain control, we can start at the beginning with the bow in the morning. Let’s try to sleep.” He moves to take my leg and drape it over his waist, sealing our bodies together.
Shaw is sound asleep when I wake from a deep, unbothered rest. We are both mostly clothed, but with the heat of his body next to mine, I mindlessly took off my pants in the night.
Picking up the blanket gingerly, I see his arm slung low around my waist and his cock peeking out of the top of his pants.
I could easily sit on top of him and lose myself in his touch once more, but my outburst last night guides me to slide out of the bed instead.
Aslaug is waiting at the door to hunt, I assume, as I pad out into the main living area, wearing Shaw’s long tunic.
“What time is it, Aslaug?” I coo, pushing the heavy wooden door open.
She prances around in snow that covers her paws, and I wrap my arms around my thinly protected chest to block the cold.
The sun is hidden in a thick layer of clouds, disorienting me to the time of day.
I know we slept longer than I would normally, but it is hard to tell if it’s almost midday or still early morning.
When Aslaug disappears into the forest, I go back inside and put a fresh kettle of water on the fire.
Adding more logs to the hearth makes my heart thunder past my common sense as the dream comes roaring back.
It is foreign to feel afraid of fire when I make one a few times a day.
I light candles and hold torches so now is not the time to succumb to my fears.
Tip toeing back into the bedroom, I grab the pants from yesterday and slip out, closing the door gently behind me.
He is entitled to sleeping in every so often.
Putting on boots, I trudge outside to explore the self-sufficient home Shaw created for himself.
The forge is far more extensive than Harald’s, with a home for every tool and designated places for each step of weapon smithing.
Around the side, our reindeer are sleeping in a cozy bed of hay under half a roof. There are goats tucked next to them, which he must keep for milk, and a small chicken coop.
“He’s got you all safe and warm in here, doesn’t he?
” I ask the nine sleeping hens. Reaching my hand underneath the middle one, I watch her open her yellow eyes at my intrusion, but she allows me to take two eggs all the same.
By the time I am done checking the chickens, I have over a dozen eggs in a basket I found hanging on the wall.
“I thought you made a run for it,” Shaw says from the bedroom door as I set the basket on the kitchen table.
“Aslaug wanted to be let out,” I reply, swallowing hard at the sight of him. “There are a lot of eggs.” I focus on the blue and brown, smooth shapes in the basket and not his messy hair falling over the tattoos on his skull.
“We should get out and use the bow before the snow comes. Let me find you something warmer.” He walks back into his room. I nervously comb through the ends of my hair until I hear him call, “Rasha?”
“I know how to use a bow,” I reply, going into the bedroom. It looks less frightening in the daylight as Shaw lays out options on the bed, and the fire crackles at a quiet pace in the corner.
“This isn’t a normal bow.” He looks at me from his bottom drawer and hands me thick pants. “I don’t mind if you cut these tonight. There’s plenty of sewing supplies, and I’m sure we will have a few days of heavy snow.”
“I can pay you back when we get to my clan,” I say out of habit.
“You can think that if it helps you come to terms with whatever you’re feeling. Take anything you want and meet me outside.” He brushes past me, walking out.
Quickly piling on all the warm things, I roll the top of the heavier pants over, securing them to my round hips with one of his belts, and head back outside.
I follow his footsteps and hurry along the back of the cabin, past the animals and into the trees.
He left a single track of steps leading to a clearing.
When I walk through the sparse trees, I am blown away by the view.
Shaw is standing with the quiver in his hand, against the backdrop of a cliff, waiting for me.
I didn’t realize how high up we drove the sled.
The mountains and trees make a semicircle of frosty, snow-capped terrain, followed by a mind numbing drop down into the sea.
He turns upon hearing my boots crunch through the snow and fully takes in the mismatched outfit of fur and wool.
“We are tucked away into the mountain, aren’t we?” I ask.
“Yes, the Sacred Forest is in the largest of the Elkthynir Mountains. So I have an idea,” he says when I lean over the edge to gaze down at the sheer drop. “Can I see the chain again?”
Walking away from the cliff, I wiggle the bracelet off and give it to him.
He pulls the bow out and hands it to me, then takes the amulet from the bottom of the quiver.
He opens the amulet, careful to hold it flat so our blood stays inside, and fits each end of the chain into the delicate filigree cover.
“If this works, tonight I’ll attach a clasp to the ends with silver.” He holds the amulet up, and I instantly see that he’s made a necklace for me to wear.