Chapter 6
Cwenthryth stared at the dying fire in the middle of the hut. This was it. The temporary refuge she’d found had been denied to her.
Maybe it was not as bad as it could have been.
In the end, though Steinar had made it clear he didn’t need her moments after she had arrived on his doorstep, she had been able to spend some time in the Norsemen village.
It had now been almost a week ago since she had disappeared.
With luck, Godfrid would think her gone for good and he would have left himself.
With her father dead and her gone, why would he stay in town?
He would move on, find his next victims to torment.
It was a possibility she had to hold on to for fear of going mad with terror.
A quick look around the hut reminded her she had nothing to take with her, not even food. Nothing here belonged to her. She could leave right now, as she was wearing what little she owned anyway.
Before she could gather the courage to move, the door opened behind her.
Not Steinar already? He’d said he was going to the blacksmith to discuss a commission.
Surely he would need more time than that?
She braced herself for another confrontation but when she turned around, she found herself face-to-face with his sons.
Everything within her relaxed. She was not going to be glared or shouted at.
“Cwenthryth, there you are. Ulf and I are hungry. Will you make some flat cakes for us? Uncle Torsten’s just given us some honey, look.”
Little Rothgar, so adorable, was looking at her with big, imploring eyes. Even Ulf, who, at twelve, would not dare admit he wanted a sweet treat, seemed interested at the prospect. Could she agree to their request?
If Steinar came back before she had finished frying the cakes, he would be angry, there was no denying it.
He had ordered her to leave, and no doubt expected her to comply without delay.
But perhaps she had a little time. It would not surprise her if he lingered at the forge to ensure she was well and truly gone by the time he came back home.
Besides, if he yelled at her, it would make no difference.
He had already told her to leave, what else would he do?
He would roar and rant as he was wont, but he would not hurt her.
Besides, how could she refuse the two boys when they were looking at her with such a hopeful expression on their faces?
“I will make them if you go and get more kindling for the fire,” she told the brothers.
More than likely, it would be the last time she saw them, she didn’t want to leave without having given them this last treat.
“I doubt the fire we have at the moment will last long enough for me to bake more than one cake each.”
“Oh, we definitely want more than one each!” Rothgar piped.
She couldn’t help a smile. He was so different from his brooding father. Had Steinar once been a joyous, carefree little boy? It was hard to imagine him as a child when he was all masculine presence.
“Well, then, go while I get the dough ready.”
“What the hell is going on here?”
Cwenthryth dropped the spoon she was holding when the voice sliced through the air. Damn! She had hoped Steinar would linger with the blacksmith and never find out about the cakes.
Slowly, she turned around. Six-foot-three of irate male was glowering at her. The sight had become so familiar that somehow it did not impress her as much as it should have. She knew she had nothing to fear, as he would never actually hit her.
“I’m making flat cakes, as you can see.”
As soon as the words were out, she knew she had made a mistake. Steinar’s jaw clenched, betraying barely controlled fury.
“You’re making cakes? Didn’t I tell you to get the hell out of here?”
What was it with him and his obsession with hell?
How did the Norseman he was even know about it?
Well, she’d had enough of it. She had done nothing wrong, she had only tried to please the two sweetest little boys she had ever seen before leaving them for good.
Was that such a crime? Why couldn’t he see that she posed no threat to him, that she was not trying to “ensnare” anyone?
“You did tell me to leave. But then the boys asked me to make the cakes and I didn’t think it would be such a—”
“The boys, again!” he erupted. “Who is master here?”
She bristled at this show of dominance she had not seen coming. So far, he had not struck her as one of those men who thought their opinion was the only one that mattered and who expected everyone to obey their orders blindly. Perhaps she should have, considering how he had acted with her.
“You,” she answered frigidly, disappointment giving her courage. “Or at least you like to think you are. With such an overbearing, unreasonable husband, it is no wonder Astrid went to another man.”
Thunder falling on the roof of the hut at this moment would have stunned them less.
Cwenthryth was horrified at her daring. Had she really told this man she sympathized with his dead wife, and that she would have taken a lover too, had she been in her place?
If he’d been angry at her before, by rights he would now be ready to rip her to shreds.
“Get. The. H—”
“Yes. I know,” she cut in. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the hell out of here.”
Ulf appeared in the door frame, a stack of branches cradled in his arms. “What’s happening here?” he asked, uncertainty making his voice waver.
“Nothing,” his father snapped. “Cwenthryth was leaving. You can tell her goodbye now that you’re here.”
Rothgar appeared from behind him, carrying a bundle almost as big as he was. “But what about the flat—”
Steinar placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, stopping the protest on his lips. “We will make the cakes ourselves. We don’t need anyone’s help.”
Well, that was clear enough, and the boys had the good sense not to protest. The little family didn’t need anyone, least of all her. Cwenthryth swallowed her frustration, her hurt, and her tears. How could it all end this way when she had done nothing wrong?
“Goodbye,” she told the children with as much dignity as she could muster.
She didn’t tell them she would miss them, she didn’t draw them into a last hug. Instead, she just walked out the door, doing her best not to betray how weak her legs felt in that moment.
It was only when she entered the forest that Cwenthryth grasped the enormity of the situation.
This was really it. She was on her own. What was she to do?
Where was she to go? Night was falling fast, wrapping the landscape in darkness and a distinctively chilly mist. It was too late to go back to town now, even supposing that was what she wanted to do.
But where could she hide? The people in the village were not an option, as Steinar was sure to find out who had welcomed her, and the last thing she wanted was to face any more of his accusations or create problems for someone else.
But the idea of lying in a ditch again had her shiver in dread and cold combined. She screwed her eyes shut, causing a tear to fall down her cheeks. Steinar had told her to go to hell, and in that moment, she certainly felt as if she were heading that way.
Just then, footsteps were heard from behind her, too light to be those of a great big, hulking Norseman. She knew whom she would see even before she turned around.
“Ulf. You shouldn’t be here,” she said, wiping at her cheeks as discreetly as she could.
He ignored her protest, but the look on his face showed he knew she was right. “Don’t worry about Faeir,” he told her, glancing back as if worried he’d been followed.
“Worry about what?”
“Our father. Faeir, that’s what we call him,” Ulf explained. “He’s not normally like this. But he’s not been himself lately because…well, you know why.”
Yes, she did know why. But unfortunately, it didn’t excuse everything. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and shouldn’t be treated as if she were the worst of schemers, and a liar trying to take advantage of him and manipulate innocent children.
“Of course,” she told the boy nonetheless. He shouldn’t have to pay for Steinar’s stubbornness. He had done nothing wrong either.
“Where will you go now?”
He was looking at her with those intense eyes that were so like Steinar’s, blue as a pure summer sky, and she understood he knew she had cried.
Her chest squeezed. How she would miss him and his brother!
And if she were honest, she would admit that she would miss his bear of a father also, albeit for different reasons.
She would have liked a chance to see the man hidden under the snarling beast. Everyone kept telling her that he existed, somewhere.
She believed it, since she’d had a glimpse of him with little Frida this afternoon.
For a brief moment, with the baby in his arms, Steinar had appeared like a different man.
And that man was possibly the most compelling one she had ever seen.
What would it take to coax him out? It seemed she would never find out.
“Don’t worry about me,” she told Ulf. The boy was only twelve, he shouldn’t have to worry about such things. “I’ll be fine.”
More footsteps were heard, short, hurried ones this time, and then it was Rothgar’s turn to appear between the bushes. When he spoke, it was clear that he’d heard the last part of the conversation.
“She could go sleep in the tree house,” he told his brother, his own blue eyes huge with excitement. “No one but us ever goes there. Faeir would never know.”
“I don’t want to create problems for—”
“Rothgar is right. Faeir would never know,” Ulf interrupted. “At least for tonight, while we think of another, better solution. ’Twill be dark and cold soon. You cannot stay outside on your own or walk all the way to town now.”
Cwenthryth couldn’t help a smile. The boy would grow into a wonderful man one day, caring and generous. And perhaps she could take advantage of the suggestion. It did seem like the safest option at the moment, the one she’d desperately needed.
“Thank you.”
“The house is just between here and the river, in a big ash tree. You can’t miss it. We will bring you some food and ale in the morning. And there are already blankets there, and old furs. You could make a pallet out of—”
“Yes, thank you,” she repeated. “I’m sure I will be fine. Now go, or your father will worry.”
It would not do for Steinar to see them all together, or to know that his sons had found her a hiding place in the village; he would only fly into one of his rages.
She waited until the children were gone, making sure they were safe, then she went in search of the tree house.
It was not hard to find, even in the fading light, and she ascended the rope ladder quickly, before she could be spotted.
Once inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God for the boys’ generosity. She would be safe, for another night at least.
In the corner next to two little stools were the blankets and furs Ulf had told her about. They looked soft and inviting, making her realize how tired she was. Though she had been able to relax these last few days, it was clear she had not completely recovered from her ordeal.
Nestled on the soft pallet, Cwenthryth fell into a deep slumber.