Rescuing Kadlin (8 page)

Arn scoffed. “My peer? You are not my peer. Your request is denied. You have taken first one son from me and now another. You will be executed this day, and you will be last.”

The jarl did not resist when he was led with his daughter and son-in-law to the great oak stump. He looked on as the axe came down first on Rowyn’s neck then Ginna’s. And, at the moment the old man’s head was severed from his body, Bjorn felt as if a yoke had been lifted from his own shoulders.

Epilogue

The trees had turned the color of flames, and the fallen leaves crunched under Hjortr’s feet as he and Floki chased through the labyrinth. Kadlin sat in a patch of sunlight, pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders and smiled at the sound of her son’s laughter and the dog’s happy barks. Her son would be tall and strong like his father, and one day he would be the lord of this estate.

Beatrice sat beside her mistress, mending a hole in Hjortr’s trousers. “That dog is getting fat,” she said.

Kadlin laughed. “It is no wonder, given the feasts you prepare for him.” Beatrice widened her eyes in feigned innocence, and Kadlin waved her finger. “I’ve seen the dishes you sneak to him. He’ll not be able to so much as waddle soon.”

Kadlin winked at the girl who had once saved her life and now helped watch over her son. She was grateful that the gods had brought her such a loyal employee and friend.

It was suddenly quiet, and the women looked up. Floki had stopped barking and was staring at the trailhead at the edge of the lawn. His pointed ears perked forward then he took off running into the tree line, and when he reemerged, he was leading a group of horses and riders. Kadlin rose and turned to Beatrice. “Please find Bjorn, and tell him our guests have arrived.”

Hjortr was near the middle of the maze, and he ran the twisting path toward the exit, clearly afraid that taking a shortcut over the mounded earth would anger the gods. Agata and her husband rode up first, with little Bassi sharing his father’s saddle. Finnr halted his mount and set young Bassi on the ground. The boy headed for the mouth of the maze and followed it inward until the two friends met and wrestled each other to the ground.

Kadlin ran out to meet Bassi’s parents, along with Marget, Drengr, Gudrior, Rafn, and Grima. The visitors dismounted, and by the time they had exchanged greetings, Bjorn had joined them.

That night, they all gathered around the grand table, laughed and feasted. The men gave Bjorn and Arn the news of the harvest while Hjortr and Bassi ran through the house with Floki barking at their heels.

Grima lit her pipe and looked around the lavish dining hall. “You have done well for yourself, Viking,” she said to Bjorn. He only nodded, but Kadlin thought she could detect the pride on his face. “And the dreams?” the old witch asked.

“They have gone, Grima. It seems that Mara has found someone else to torment.”

The seer reached across the table and patted his hand. “Well, you surely have earned some peace, you big bear.”

When supper had ended, the guests were shown to their beds, and the boys were tucked into Hjortr’s room. In their chamber, Bjorn and Kadlin washed and slid naked under the furs. Bjorn rolled on his side, propped himself up on one elbow and smiled down at Kadlin. She studied his handsome face, and her skin warmed when he leaned in to kiss her mouth before pressing his lips to her neck. He climbed atop her, and she sighed at the comforting weight of his big body.

He kneaded her breast with one hand and explored her sex with the other, opening her with his long fingers. When she was wet and ready for him, he pressed into her and languidly pumped his hips. Her excitement gathered slowly, and when her moment came, he covered her mouth with his and swallowed her passionate cries. The release was long and luxurious and left her feeling completely sated.

Bjorn often loved her this way now, quietly coaxing her body and soul to glorious heights. Sometimes their play was still rough and flavored with the pleasure-pain that left them both panting. Whenever and however they came together, Kadlin was always left satisfied and loving him more than when they had started.

Kadlin’s insides still quivered as she spread her legs wide for him, moaning with each deep stroke.

His breath quickened, and he dropped his cheek against hers before whispering, “I love you.” When she sensed he was nearing completion, she kissed the side of his neck then sucked hard at the sensitive flesh. It was his undoing, and she held on to him as he emptied himself inside of her.

They lay quietly for a while before she reached up and drew one of his coppery braids through her fingers. “Will you never wear the hair and clothing of a proper nobleman, husband?”

He laughed and shook his head, rattling the beads that decorated his plaits. “Never. Are you disappointed?”

Kadlin smiled. “I could never be disappointed with you, my love. No matter where the fates take us, I will always be content as long as you are with me.”

Rolling over on his back, he pulled her on top of him and touched the tiny scar at her temple. “It is healing well,” he said.

She traced the scar on his scalp then pressed her palm over his heart. "And you, husband? Are you healing well?”

Bjorn shook his head and laid his hand over hers. “No, wife, I am healed, and I am free, and it is you who has rescued me.”

About the Author

Gabrielle Holly lives in the Midwest with her husband and two enormous, world-class-shedding dogs. She has worked as a freelance journalist, newspaper humor columnist, magazine editor, stand-up comic and morning radio show host. She has a short attention span and enjoys reading, cooking, crafting, hunting for antiques, attending live theater, spending time outdoors, watching movies, and coercing her husband into being her “research assistant." Gabrielle loves to hear from her readers and can be found at www.gabrielleholly.com

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