Chapter 2 #3
Still, regardless of their past behavior, Astrid’s parents had to be informed of her passing. Delaying any longer would be cruel. To say that the encounter would be unpleasant would be putting it mildly, but there was no other choice. As his father had just said, it had been four days already.
“Will you look after the boys for me?”
“Of course. Bring them when you’re ready.”
Nodding, Steinar made his way back to the hut.
There was one more thing to do before he left, sending the Saxon on her way.
He quickly crushed the flicker of unease the idea provoked inside him.
If she was really fleeing a man, then there were other places she could go.
He was not sending her back to her house, only out of his, where she could not stay.
She would be fine, he reasoned. A beautiful, resourceful woman like her would soon find someone else to ensnare.
If she truly wanted a man’s protection, she could easily get it.
As he approached his hut, he heard a commotion.
The door was wide open and he could hear someone shouting inside, someone female—and Saxon.
Damnation, what was happening now? Was Cwenthryth being attacked by one of the villagers intent on getting his pleasure?
For all her arrival had upset him, she was undeniably appealing.
He wouldn’t be surprised if one of the men had decided to make the most of having a beautiful Saxon in the village for once.
Another scream, then a crash, as if his chair had fallen to the floor.
His feet picked up speed before he could order them to. What the hell was happening in that hut?
The spectacle meeting his eyes when he entered was not the one he’d expected to see. Cwenthryth was indeed inside the hut, she was indeed the one shouting and turning the interior inside out, but she was alone. Alone except for a huge crow flapping around the room, trying desperately to escape.
“Oh please,” she was saying, trying to get out of its way. Or... He stilled. Was she actually trying to herd the bird to the open door? It was hard to tell from her frantic gestures. “Oh please, please, just go!”
She sounded afraid, almost panicked.
“The crow will not hurt you,” Steinar told her, feeling stupid for having to point it out to her. Didn’t she know it? It was only a bird. It had gotten itself trapped, getting in through the open door by mistake, but would eventually fly away. Right now, it was even more scared than she was.
“I know that,” she rasped. “But it…”
Just then the crow shot out of the room, having finally found the opening. With one last indignant squawk, he disappeared into the distance, wings flapping hard. An eerie silence replaced the awful noise.
Cwenthryth fell on the only stool that hadn’t been overturned, looking utterly out of breath. Steinar crossed his arms over his chest, brow arched, making it clear she had better offer an explanation for her extreme reaction. What had that been about?
“The bird was trapped,” she finally said, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Yes.” So what? “You would have known it would fly out eventually. It just did.”
“I couldn’t bear it, it was trapped,” she repeated. Had she even heard him? “It was trapped.”
“Cwenthryth, listen to me!” he snapped. The crow was gone but she was still as panicked as she had been a moment ago, perhaps even more so.
He knelt at her feet and took her shoulders in his hands, resisting the urge to shake her.
“You have to stop this. The bird is not trapped anymore, it’s gone. It’s over.”
“Yes,” she said slowly, lifting her eyes to him. The brown rim had returned to the black irises, lighting them up in the way the rising sun illuminated the horizon at dawn after a moonless night. “Yes. You’re right. It’s over. Thank the Lord, it’s over.”
With those words, she finally relaxed.
Steinar stayed in front of her, more puzzled than ever.
Who got herself into such a state over a bird who’d been in no danger?
An uncomfortable thought crossed his mind.
Was she unhinged? Was that the reason she could not offer a satisfactory explanation for her presence here, because there was something wrong with her?
He’d known a woman years ago whose mind had been unstable from birth.
Her reactions had been unpredictable. Could Cwenthryth suffer from the same affliction?
No, apart from just now, she didn’t behave like poor old Hilda had.
“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her gaze to the floor. “I don’t know what came over me. I just panicked.”
“It’s all right. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Steinar started. Why was he saying that? It was not as if she could stop all birds from flying or even if he would be there to witness her next attack of nerves. Before the end of the day she would be gone.
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Where are my sons?” he asked, standing back up. What was he doing, kneeling at her feet like a puppy, talking calmly when he was inwardly furious?
In truth, he’d been in a bad mood since the moment he’d seen Cwenthryth and Rothgar entwined in bed together and met Magnus outside the well.
Then, to make matters worse, he’d decided to go see Astrid’s parents, something guaranteed to rouse his temper.
The chaos with the bird hadn’t helped, and having to ask a stranger where the boys were was threatening to push him over the edge.
By the gods, but he really needed to calm his nerves.
He’d never been someone to spend his days in such a state of unrest, but as his marriage to Astrid had become more and more strained, he’d started to become bitter and impatient, snapping at people for little or no reason.
It was exhausting, and he longed to revert back to the carefree man he had once been.
“They went to see their friend Gunnar, or so they told me,” Cwenthryth answered, looking more settled at last.
Ah, yes. He should have known. The three of them were inseparable, spending almost all their time together.
He left the hut without a word. It was rude, but if she wanted to be here, she would just have to live with his moods.
This was his home, his village, he could come and go as he pleased, damn it, he didn’t owe her any explanation.
“Good morning, Bee.”
Steinar greeted Gunnar’s mother, Dawn, with the affectionate nickname everyone used when she opened the door. At the back of the hut her husband, Elwyn, was sharpening his axe. He lifted his head briefly, nodding his greeting.
Bee wiped her hands on her apron and smiled at him. “Good morning. The boys are out the back, helping Gunnar and the girls build a new raft, if you’re looking for them.”
“Thanks.”
Steinar made his way around the hut in a pensive mood.
He knew everyone in the village inside out and they knew him just as well.
Bee had guessed why he had come, he in turn knew exactly where to find the children, and why they needed to build a new raft—the previous one had sailed right into a tree, which had proved to be more durable than the fragile construction.
He didn’t mind living in such a tight-knit community, but it could get quite stifling at times to know what everyone was doing and have them know what you were going through. There simply was no hiding.
That was one of the reasons he’d agreed to marry Astrid.
It had not been all about the lust she’d stirred in him or the protection she’d said she needed.
The women of marriageable age who lived in the village had held no mystery for him.
He’d grown up alongside them, knew their weaknesses, and could even remember them as children.
As a consequence, he found it hard to see them as conquests he could bed, much less potential wives.
But Astrid had been a complete stranger, he’d had to learn everything about her.
It had been exciting to discover her mind at the same time as he’d learned to pleasure her body.
Of course, not having known her before their hasty wedding had also meant that there had been some unpleasant surprises along the way, but that was another matter.
At the time, she had been a welcome breath of fresh air.
Cwenthryth’s arrival, whether he wanted to accept it or not, had been another breath of fresh air.
And at any other time, it would have been just as welcome.
But right now, having to deal with her was the last thing he needed.
By the gods, she knew him so little that, up until he had told her the truth, she had thought he was the boys’ uncle!
He, in turn, didn’t know anything about her.
Yes, and that was the problem, he told himself sternly, not the appeal.
He didn’t know her, so he didn’t know if he could trust or even believe her.
There were too many problems with her story, too many questions unanswered.
After Astrid’s betrayal, he was wary of making another mistake.
The woman he had married had turned out to be so ill-suited to his needs that she had forced him to live a life he didn’t want and made him utterly miserable.
As if that were not enough, she had ended up betraying him and choosing another man over him.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to give a stranger, who would soon be gone anyway, the benefit of the doubt. It was not worth the risk.
Well, enough about the Saxon, he decided, as the children appeared from behind a bush. She would be gone before the day was over, anyway.
“Ulf, Rothgar,” he called out to the boys, “I need a moment with you.”
While their friends carried on weaving ropes around well-trimmed branches to secure the base of the raft, he brought his sons to one side and sat them down on a fallen log.
“I will leave for your mother’s village in the morning. Her parents need to be told what happened.”
They nodded gravely, and did not ask if they could come with him. Though this was their grandparents they were talking about, they knew their presence would not be welcome. It broke Steinar’s heart a little to see it, but it could not be helped.
“Will you be gone long?” Rothgar asked, throwing himself into his arms.
“No.” He placed a kiss on top of the head that still had the faint smell of the baby he had once been. “Three or four days at most, I should think.”
“What about Cwenthryth?” Ulf tilted his head, looking uncharacteristically serious. “You know she cannot go back home.”
Where had his son received this information?
Cwenthryth had admittedly claimed she was fleeing a man earlier that day, but it had been in confidence.
Had the boy listened in on their conversation or did he know something he didn’t?
Ulf was talking as if he knew for a fact she needed a place to stay, but Steinar was still not convinced her story could be trusted.
Well, perhaps he should take the opportunity of this trip to the coast to go and see for himself what the situation was.
He could easily stop in town on the way back from Astrid’s parents’ village.
Half a day’s delay would make little difference and would put his mind at rest once and for all.
He would finally be able to tell if Cwenthryth was in any danger or if she was lying in order to manipulate him into offering her a home. Instead of claims, he would get facts.
Yes, it was the best thing to do. And when he’d gathered all the information he needed, he would make a decision as to what to do with her.
Assuming there was something to do with her, of course.
Even if she were fleeing a man, she wasn’t his responsibility, was she?
She might be looking for shelter, but the problem was, he’d already been there once, giving a woman in need a home, and it had ended up in disaster.
He was done with beautiful women running to him in search of protection, using the feelings they provoked inside him to sway him.
If she was really in trouble, then he would find someone to help her and appease his conscience that way. If she wasn’t, then he would be able to send her away without any scruples.
“Very well. She can stay at the hut while I’m gone,” he told his sons.
Since he wouldn’t be here anyway, he could afford to be generous.
Whatever else the Saxon was lying about, one thing was certain, she looked too frail to be healthy.
Let him give her a few days to build up her strength and think of another place to go.
It would cost him nothing to allow her to remain in the hut while he was out. “She can leave when I come back.”
“So then she can look after us. We don’t need to go to someone else while you’re gone.”
Ulf appeared delighted at the idea but that had not been the plan. Steinar had imagined he would leave them with his parents, as he’d just told his father.
“I would prefer if you went to stay with—”
“Yes, good idea!” Rothgar piped before he could even finish the sentence. “We haven’t had any flat cakes yet.”
Steinar sighed. It seemed there would be no convincing the boys they would be better off with their grandparents.