Chapter 19
Ulf opened to door gingerly—and let out a sigh of relief.
Thank the gods, Ylva had come back. She was standing in front of him, looking unsure of the reception she would get after their argument.
But she didn’t need to fear he would snap at her, he was no longer angry, rather he was worried, petrified even.
After all she’d been through, the last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt.
He was confident that between them, he and his father would stop the Saxon from inflicting physical harm on her, but that didn’t mean she would get out of this unscathed.
If the man turned out to be an impostor, he would pay for the terrible disappointment he had inflicted on her. Ulf had not missed the hope lighting in her eyes when she’d thought she might finally be reunited with her brother. It would kill him to see that hope die.
For her sake, he really wanted to believe the man was Oslac. But he could not afford to let his guard down just yet.
“Do you want to come in?” he asked, gesturing toward the inside of the hut.
“No, thank you.” She swallowed, as if trying to find the right words.
He waited, knowing this would be hard. “I just spoke to your mother. She explained why you found it impossible to trust the man’s claim, and told me what that Godfrid had done to her…
and to you. Almost killing you both. I’m so sorry.
It’s beyond anything I could have imagined. ”
Ulf nodded. Remembering that terrible day never failed to make him retch.
For a brief, but altogether real moment, he had thought that he would die under the man’s blows and that the bastard would go on and rape Cwenthryth with his blood still on his hands.
Then, mercifully, his father’s axe had put an end to the pain and to the threat Godfrid represented to the woman he loved.
Yes, Ulf could well believe his mother would have used that terrifying story to justify his reaction, but he doubted she would have told the whole sordid tale.
She would never have told a woman with child that she had once miscarried the baby her abuser had imposed on her, or that she had almost died herself because of the ordeal. It would have been too cruel.
But he knew those things had happened, and he was damned if he allowed any harm to come to Ylva or their baby. The Saxon would have to prove his identity and state his intentions before he was allowed into her life.
“I hope you understand why I feel the need to be cautious, even if I do hope that he is telling the truth.” It would be wonderful for her to be reunited with the only family she had.
“Yes, I do understand. And so, I’ve come to ask you a favor. Will you come with me to see Oslac? I would feel safer if you were with me. After all I heard from you and your mother, I feel it’s preferable not to go alone.”
“Of course, I will come. Thank you.”
Her generosity stunned him. They both knew that she would go to see the man, one way or the other, because she was right, no one had the authority to stop her.
And yet she had come to him first, and asked for his support.
It meant the world that she wanted him to be there to see to her protection in case it was needed.
Ulf fervently hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, and that the man was Oslac, but he had to be certain before he allowed him anywhere near his woman and his baby.
Ylva took a step toward him and placed a hand on his flank, over the wound she had inflicted on him all those months ago. When she lifted her gaze to him, her eyes were swirling with emotions he had difficulty identifying.
“I tried to kill you the day we met, I hurt you badly, and yet you gave me, a complete stranger, a chance and you allowed me to tell my story. All I’m asking is that you do the same and give my br—this man the opportunity to prove he is who he says he is.
” She shook her head, as if frustrated by her inability to express herself more clearly.
“I know I’m not basing this on much, but I really think he’s telling the truth.
The age seems to correspond. And there is his hair color, of course. ”
Ulf reached out to the hair on her shoulder and coiled a lustrous strand around his forefinger. It was smooth as otter fur, the color reminiscent of dark amber, and oddly, it seemed just as translucent. Beautiful. He hoped their child, boy or girl, would be blessed with hair just like hers.
“Yes. The color.”
It was undeniable that she and the man shared a most unusual hue of auburn. It was one detail in favor of him telling the truth, he had to admit, as such a thing would be impossible to feign. Still. He would not be so easily swayed, not when the potential for disaster was so great.
He would die before he allowed anyone to hurt Ylva.
Ulf shook his head. So much had happened since the winter.
How had he found himself the protector of the woman who had almost killed him?
What would they tell their child when they asked how the two of them had met?
Would they even be living together then?
Would they be married, have other children and be a family?
They still had not reached a decision as to what they wanted to do, how they were to handle the unusual situation they were in.
Mere days after his receiving the shocking news that they were going to be parents, they had to handle an equally shocking piece of news.
“There is another thing in favor of Oslac being who he says he is,” Ylva breathed, looking embarrassed by what she was about to say.
“He has nothing to gain from claiming to be my brother. You know I have no possessions or connections. The only precious thing I have in this world is this baby you gave me.”
Lowering her head, she stroked her stomach in a gesture he had seen many times in the last three days.
There was so much love in that caress that his chest tightened.
In truth, he didn’t think he possessed anything more precious either than this child growing inside her, making her glow, making her happy.
This child who would make a father out of him.
He took her hand in his, peace finally restored between them.
“Of course. You’re right. We need to at least listen to the man. So, can you think of anything you could ask him to prove he is who he says he is? A memory only you two would share?”
Her lips twisted in a grimace. “I’ve been wondering the same thing, but I was so young when I was taken… I can’t think of anything. My memories of that time are vague at best. There is, I suppose, the description of my abduction. He was with me that day, even if he was not captured.”
She sounded rather dismayed at the idea that they would have to discuss this painful moment and he could not blame her.
“It’s a start,” he said encouragingly. “It will be easy to see if his version corresponds to yours at least.”
“Yes.”
She gave his hand a squeeze and he almost leaned in to kiss her.
Then he thought better of the impulse. Now was not the moment.
Only that morning they’d had an argument, and right now, her attention was on the man claiming to be her long-lost brother.
Kissing her would have to wait for a more appropriate moment, when they could both enjoy it to the full.
But it would happen, and soon, he would make sure of it.
“Come then, let’s go hear what the man has to say.”
“Will you leave us a moment with Oslac, please, Faeir?”
Steinar scowled at the mention of the man. “If you want to. I’ve interrogated him since I brought him here. He keeps on insisting he is Ylva’s true brother.”
Well, didn’t that prove that he really was her brother?
Ylva could not help but ask herself. Anyone thinking of taking advantage of her vulnerability would have rethought their original plans when faced with such a formidable interrogator.
It would have been clear that they had better not hurt someone placed under the protection of such a man.
She was not alone and powerless, unlike what they would have hoped, but surrounded by fierce Norsemen.
Only a man who had nothing to blame himself for and truth on his side would insist.
She shuffled closer to Ulf when Steinar glared in the direction of the hut where, presumably, the Saxon was waiting for another interrogation.
He was indeed a fearsome man. To think she had briefly considered attacking him last winter…
If she had, she might well have died herself.
It was not hard to guess he would not have proven as easy to approach as his son—or as lenient afterward.
Then she realized what Ulf had said. He’d called the man “Oslac,” as if he was prepared to believe he was indeed her brother. This gave her courage. She took a step toward the hut, eager to start the investigation.
“Come, Steinar,” Cwenthryth said, her tone soothing. “Let’s give them some privacy. Ylva understandably wants to find out the truth as quickly as possible.”
The difference in the Norseman’s attitude when he turned to his wife was as immediate as it was spectacular.
His face softened, and the scowl disappeared.
In that moment, he looked just like his son, and Ylva, who had always wondered how the woman could have fallen under the spell of such a gruff man, suddenly understood.
Cwenthryth had fallen for Steinar for the same reasons Ylva was now falling for Ulf.
“You’re right, my love. Let’s go tell my father about the new guest in the village.”
Tucking his wife’s hand under his arm, he walked over to Wolf’s hut, not looking back once. He trusted his son to protect her if need be, and she did too.
Ulf went through the door first, as if wary that the Saxon would pounce as soon as he saw her. He did not but he stood up from his stool, hope shining in his eyes.
“You’ve come.”