Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
L othar trudged back to camp, a brace of marta slung over one shoulder and his gathering pouch bulging with plants. The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. His heart lifted at the sight of Jana sitting cross-legged by the flames, her dark hair falling across her cheek as she sorted through her growing collection of plants. Over the past two days, she’d created an impressive array of botanical specimens, sketching them in a small leather journal he’d had in his pack and then drying them on the rack he’d created.
As if sensing his arrival, her head came up. A wide smile spread across her face and his chest tightened, but he gave her his usual grin.
“I found some interesting additions for your collection.”
He crouched beside her, careful to give her space, and her eyes lit up as he opened his gathering pouch.
“These purple flowers - they look similar to echinacea, but the petals are different.” She lifted a slender branch, examining it closely. “And this bark… the pattern is like willow, but the scent is completely new. Yet this is clearly a longleaf pine cone.”
He watched her sort through his findings, delighted with her obvious pleasure as she separated the plants into neat piles.
“This one,” she held up a cluster of white berries, “we definitely don’t have these at home. What do you call them?”
“Moonberries,” he answered in his language, then repeated it in English. “They glow at night.”
“Really? I’ve never seen anything like that before. Do you use them for anything?”
Did she realize she’d responded in his language? She’d learned it with startling speed and didn’t even seem to notice how frequently she used it.
“Not the berries. They’re poisonous. But the leaves can be steeped for a tea that eases sore muscles.”
She turned the berry-laden stem over in her hands, then set it carefully aside and sketched a quick picture. The way her face lit up delighted him, along with the way she unconsciously leaned closer to him as she asked questions. Her skittishness seemed to vanish when she was intent on learning.
He sat back and surveyed the camp with satisfaction while she sorted her plants. He’d transformed their temporary home into something approaching comfort over the past few days. The lean-to he’d constructed kept the morning dew off their sleeping area. He’d spent hours gathering the softest moss he could find to cushion the ground beneath their bedroll, making it almost as comfortable as a proper bed.
The cooking area had evolved from a simple fire ring into a proper hearth, with flat stones creating a stable platform for cooking, and her drying rack to one side. Another task that had taken a considerable amount of time, but her delight had made it worth every minute. Perhaps he should gather some longer branches and build a smoking chamber to one side of the hearth. Preserving some of the marta meat would add to the stock of supplies he was assembling.
For when we leave. He quickly pushed that thought aside. He was in no hurry to leave their camp.
“Admiring your improvements?” Her voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked back to find her smiling at him. “I’m a fan - especially since you added the padding under the bedroll.”
“I’m glad you’re sleeping better.”
He did his best to keep his tone neutral although the past two nights had been both a blessing and a curse. She’d continued to insist that they share the bedroll and the new shelter. Each night, he’d carefully positioned himself at the far edge of the sleeping area, determined to give her space. And every night she ended up curled trustingly against him.
Her presence beside him filled an emptiness he hadn’t even known existed, but each morning it became harder to resist the urge to pull her closer, to bury his face in her hair and claim what his heart increasingly insisted was his. How could someone who flinched at sudden movements while awake seek him out so naturally in sleep? The contrast tormented him, along with the growing certainty that she was meant for him, despite his lack of prayer to the gods.
As if in rebuttal to his thoughts, she reached for the walking stick he’d carved for her. He’d spent hours getting the height just right, smoothing the wood until there wasn’t a single rough spot to hurt her hands.
“I think I’m ready to try again,” she said, using the stick to push herself up.
He tensed, ready to catch her if she stumbled. But she balanced carefully, testing her weight on the injured ankle. The sight of her in his shirt, which hung nearly to her knees, stirred feelings he tried to suppress.
“We should be able to leave soon,” she said, taking a tentative step. “I can walk well enough now.”
His chest ached. Of course she wanted to leave - she had no reason to stay in this makeshift camp, no matter how much it had come to feel like home to him. He forced himself to focus on practical matters.
“The ankle still swells by evening,” he pointed out, moving closer as she took another step. “And you’re favoring it.”
“I can manage.” She gave him the determined look that he was coming to recognize. “We can’t stay here forever.”
Why not?
He bit back his instinctive response. No matter how comfortable he made the camp, they couldn’t stay isolated forever. If nothing else his brothers would eventually come looking for him.
“I need to find answers,” she added, running her fingers over the smooth wood of her walking stick. “About how I got here, why I’m here.”
She took another step, wobbling slightly, and he reached out automatically to steady her. This time she didn’t flinch from his touch, and that small victory made his pulse quicken - as did the feel of her silky skin beneath his hand.
“We could stay,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Build a proper shelter. Hunt. Gather plants.”
She smiled up at him, still not moving away and he had to force himself not to pull her closer.
“It’s tempting.” Her expression grew serious again. “But something’s pushing at me, like… like I need to be somewhere. I just don’t know where.”
He shifted uncomfortably, considering their options. The shrine where Kari had appeared lay far to the north of his village - and he didn’t like the idea of taking her there. What if the gods decided to send her back? He couldn’t bear the idea of losing her. But perhaps there was another way for her to get the answers she was seeking.
“There’s a… shrine in Port Cael dedicated to Freja. She is the goddess of the natural world and many females pray to her.”
“A shrine?”
“It’s within a convent that was once dedicated to the Sisters of Freja, but that order no longer exists.” There were too few females - and the ones who remained felt the burden of their lack of children. “However, the shrine still exists and perhaps you may find your answers there.”
“That sounds perfect. When can we leave?”
He hoped he wasn’t making the wrong choice, especially with the Bride Trials still taking place. How could he explain the Trials without frightening her? Without revealing how much he’d wanted to find a mate? But neither could he refuse to help her find what she so desperately wanted.
“If you’re sure you are up to walking, we can start at first light.”
“Thank you, Lothar,” she said softly, looking up at him in a way that made his heart skip a beat.
He made himself step away, bending over the fire to hide his reaction.
“I’ll start preparing for the journey.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Promise me you’ll stay with me. He forced the words back and shook his head.
“I will have everything ready by tomorrow.”
He set to work, abandoning his plans for a smoking chamber in favor of a faster approach, drying the strips of meat on suspended branches. When he prepared a simple soup for supper, she added a few of her dried herbs to give it flavor.
“You have a talent for cooking,” he said appreciatively when they sat down to eat.
“I enjoy it, but I rarely bother since I’m only cooking for one person.”
The shadow he’d seen so many times before crossed her face.
“I know you don’t have a family, but what about friends, neighbors?”
“I prefer to keep myself to myself. No good comes from being involved with other people.”
Despite the harshness of her words, he could see the sorrow in her eyes.
“There are some people you can trust,” he said quietly. “I am one of them.”
Her eyes softened, and for a brief second she laid her hand over his.
“I know that. You saved my life and looked after me when I was ill. But…” She let go and turned back to her soup, scooping it into bowls and handing him one. “It’s just safer not to rely on anyone.”
He thought about pressing her further, but he knew the value of patience. A value she’s been teaching me , he thought ruefully.
“Tell me more about your family,” she said, clearly changing the subject.
“I told you that my brother Wulf is our clan chief. He is very like our father - strong, responsible, caring.”
“And your mother?”
“My mother died in childbirth. Wulf’s mother died of a wasting sickness.”
“You have different mothers?”
“Yes. Egon had a different mother as well, although he never knew her. He grew up alone in one of the southern kingdoms. It was not an easy childhood.”
“Your father didn’t take care of him?” she asked indignantly.
“He would never have let it happen if he’d known, but he didn’t know about him. It happened while he was serving in the High King’s army and Egon’s mother didn’t tell him.”
She crossed her arms and frowned at him.
“It should have occurred to him that it was a possibility.”
He sighed, wondering how much he should tell her.
“My people are rarely blessed with children. It is… unusual for a male to have more than one child.” If he were even lucky enough to have one. “Even if he had considered it a possibility, he would have dismissed the idea after Wulf was born.”
“But he went on to have you as well. It doesn’t sound that unusual to me.”
“He didn’t expect it to happen when he was mated to my mother. He was shocked to be blessed a second time. Although I’m not sure he always considered it a blessing,” he added dryly. His father had expected another serious responsible child like Wulf. Instead, he had proven to be somewhat of a disappointment. “But that’s enough about the past. You should get some rest. It will be a long day tomorrow.”
She looked at him with those big, dark eyes, but she didn’t question him further. As soon as they finished cleaning up, she went to the bedroll. He followed her shortly thereafter, but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. Thoughts of his father, and Egon’s horrible childhood, and the Curse swirled in his mind, making sleep impossible.
But then she turned to him in her sleep, her small body pressed against his side, one arm draped across his chest. Her dark hair tickled his shoulder, and her warm breath ghosted across his skin. Her trust in sleep touched something deep inside him, even as her proximity tested his control. The scent of herbs clung to her skin, mixing with her natural sweetness in a way that made his head spin.
He allowed himself to stroke her hair, then carefully placed his arm around her, savoring the way her body fit perfectly against his, the way she instinctively leaned into his touch. His previous restlessness was replaced by contentment, and yet a thread of uneasiness lingered. Was he doing the right thing? He didn’t want to take her to the shrine. Didn’t want to risk her leaving him. But he could see how much it meant to her.
She’d come here for answers, and it was only right that he help her. He just wished his heart didn’t have to pay the price.