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Authors: Leigh Bale

BOOK: The Heart's Warrior
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Purple smudges colored the skin under her eyes and she slept like she might never awaken.

For three days, she had stayed and nurtured Gudrid and Ota without tending to her own needs. Her efforts impressed him, but he missed her warmth beside him each night when he went to his lonely bed.

He chaffed at this delay in joining his father, but he couldn’t leave until he knew Kerstin would be safe. With Tovi’s confirmation that Ota would be all right, he breathed with relief.

Finally, he could go. Just that morning, he had lifted his sword again and again in a cutting arc, a stab and a thrust. His shoulder was strong enough to wield the blade.

Tovi gestured toward the door, indicating Jonas

should follow her outside. Perhaps she feared Kerstin might be feigning sleep and overhear their conversation.

Together, they stepped out into the warm sunshine.

The thunk of Haki’s ax as he chopped firewood behind the hut could be heard. Jonas took a deep breath of spring air.

Fragrant and pleasant, it held a promise of warm weather and a rich summer harvest.

From the door of the hut, he caught a whiff of the healing herbs Kerstin had used on Gudrid and Ota. He sighed and folded his arms, pleased with his wife’s skills.

Aye, she was an asset to his people, if they would only accept her.

Tovi’s brows creased. “I’ve watched Kerstin tend

Ota’s marred flesh, yet I’m still concerned about her loyalties. You and I have more reason than most not to trust her. She could be tending Ota to take us off guard.

What if she poisons you or one of our people?”

“She wouldn’t dare,” Jonas said. “She knows our

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people would condemn her if we found proof of such crimes.”

Though he spoke with assurance, doubt rose like a fog within his mind. As a man of war, he had learned trust was often followed by disaster. Kerstin could dupe them all, lulling them into trusting her. Then, she could strike with catastrophe.

Tovi’s gaze lingered on the hut. “I agree, yet it is hard to believe her capable of murder. If not for her swift actions, I fear Ota would have suffered much worse. Did you know the girl has already been up once to relieve herself?”

“Is the child in much pain?”

Tovi shook her head with amazement. “Not a bit.

Kerstin gives her nightshade for the pain and Ota seems hardly to feel any discomfort at all. I’ve learned a lot more about herbs and their uses by watching Kerstin.”

He tensed. “Isn’t nightshade a poison?”

Tovi chuckled and put a hand on his arm. “Don’t

worry. It can kill if people take too much of it, but Kerstin has studied the plant and knows precisely how much to administer. Not an hour ago, the child smiled and ate a bit of broth to nourish her. Her recovery is truly amazing.

Kerstin does seem more of a healer than a witch.”

Jonas breathed easier. At least for now Kerstin

behaved herself. He had more important matters on his mind, such as fighting the Eirikssons.

Turning, he walked down the narrow path leading to the quay and Tovi joined him. Jonas stared at the river, anxious to seek news of his father, yet dreading the thought of leaving Kerstin behind.

“Do you trust her?” Tovi asked.

He shrugged. “I have never seen her courage falter, and yet—” He couldn’t bring himself to confide to his mother that his heart and mind had fallen under

Kerstin’s spell. A strong man should be able to fight off the hold of a woman, even one as beautiful as Kerstin.

Tovi shifted her feet on the graveled path. “She

betrayed you by running to Elezer.”

Fresh pain lanced his heart and he tightened his jaw.

“Even that was courageous. The journey to Lade couldn’t have been easy for her. It was before we were formally 190

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wed, when she believed I wished her death. She loves Elezer and he was her betrothed. She was loyal to him.”

Why did he defend her? She was obviously still in love with the man. Yet, Jonas admired her. If only he could rely on her. If
he
could win her love, he would be a happy man.

“If someone tried to take me from your father, I

would do the same.” Tovi’s mouth quirked on one side and she spoke in a wry voice. “And yet, I’ve seen that she is a clever girl. She may be deceiving us, waiting to strike when we least expect it.”

“She won’t kill me.” He shook his head. “Too much time has passed. I would have seen her true nature by now.” No, she wouldn’t kill him. She seemed more intent on playing with his emotions. How else could he explain the turmoil he felt over her?

“How can you be so sure she won’t kill you?” Tovi asked.

“She saved my life when Elezer came to slay me

while I slept. I don’t believe she knew I was awake.”

Tovi gasped and angry color flooded her face. “That swine! How dare he try such a thing?”

Jonas raked his fingers through his hair. “He would have succeeded if Kerstin hadn’t interceded. I awoke as she was trying to stop him.”

Tapping a finger against her cheek, Tovi pursed her lips. Jonas watched his mother. The years had been good to her but he noticed deep lines around her eyes and mouth. When had she gotten older? The desire to protect her rose up within his chest.

Jonas glanced at the hut. The structure was set back in the shelter of the forest. A sliver of smoke rose from the shallow smoke hole in the roof’s center. No doubt Kerstin had banked the fire. She was fastidious in everything she did. Tovi lifted her hands to her hips. “Perhaps you’re right. Kerstin has given no thought to her own wounds and she hasn’t been eating—”

“Wounds? What wounds?”

Tovi’s jaw flexed. “Kerstin was burned as she held Ota close to her own body when she ran to put the child in the watering trough. They are mild burns but red and 191

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sore.”

With a low growl, Jonas whirled about and sprinted up the trail leading back to the hut. Inside, he stared at his slumbering wife. A flaming curl lay against her smooth cheek. Her lips were slightly parted, her face serene. She looked like a sleeping angel, not a witch.

He moved closer and cursed under his breath. As his mother had described, her forearms showed angry red swells.

Entering the hut, Tovi wheezed from her labors to keep up with him. Drawing near, she whispered, “You see?” “Care for Ota and Gudrid,” Jonas ordered.

Bending, he lifted his wife in his arms. She awoke and cried out, her arms flailing until she grasped him by the neck. Her green eyes centered on Jonas’s face as he carried her from the hut.

“What have I done now?” Kerstin asked with

amazement.

Jonas didn’t respond as he headed toward the hall.

****

Jonas carried Kerstin with ease as he brushed past

snatching tree limbs and bushes. The trail leading back to the steading was thin and not wide enough to

accommodate a man of his size. Kerstin pressed her cheek against his neck to avoid being hit in the head by branches.

“What are you doing?” she murmured against his

warm skin. “To be awakened from a deep sleep and

hauled out of the hut like a sack of grain isn’t healthy.

You nearly scared the wits out of me.”

He grunted, his stride purposeful and strong. His shoulder had healed nicely and she admired his profile.

“Well?” she insisted with a mixture of irritation and dismay. “Are you going to tell me what crime I’m accused of?” Jonas looked straight ahead but she felt his hands tighten across her back and buttocks. “You’ve neglected yourself.”

“What?”

They reached the edge of the forest and he carried her across the yard. People stood about, sharpening tools, 192

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chatting together. The stopped and stared as Jonas swept Kerstin inside the hall. Her cheeks flamed with

embarrassment. Because they were newly married, no doubt they would think Jonas—

Kerstin shook her head. She could hardly believe he wanted her after she had cried Elezer’s name.

Inside, he walked straight to their room where he laid her on their bed. With little fanfare, he slammed the door and bent over her to open the bodice of her dress.

Kerstin screeched with indignation and struggled to maintain her modesty. “Stop that!”

“We are married. Lie still!” He thundered so loud she quieted and lay pliant beneath his searching hands.

“At least tell me what you’re doing.”

His fingers caressed the red burns dotting her flesh, her chest, stomach and arms. Despite the stinging, a hot gush of pleasure filled her.

“The burns aren’t serious, Jonas. They hardly pain me.” Jonas’s brows lowered as he raised his gaze to lock with hers. “You didn’t tell me you had been hurt.”

Kerstin laughed.

“What’s so amusing about injuring yourself, wife?”

“Nothing.” She pushed her clothes back into place and sank deeper into the furs covering the bed. “But you look so serious, Jonas. You ought to try and smile once in awhile. You’re so somber all the time, I fear your face will harden and crack. How will you frighten little children and women without a face to glower at them with?”

He glared harder.

“Truly I’m fine, Jonas. I’ve put salve on the burns and they’ll heal fine.”

Placing his hands on his hips, Jonas narrowed his eyes, his mouth tight with disapproval. She didn’t know why he made such a fuss. Maybe he cared for her just a little. Had he forgiven her for calling out Elezer’s name?

Oh, she hoped so.

With a flick of his wrist, he threw open the lid to her trunk and rummaged through her possessions. Clothing and trinkets flew about the room as he dug deeper.

As her precious packets of herbs hit the wall, she sat up on the bed. “Stop that! What are you looking for?”

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“Your aloe.” His muffled voice came from within the trunk. “Where is it?”

“I don’t have much of the ointment left and I don’t want to waste it on me.”

Having failed to find the aloe, he slammed the trunk lid and stood scowling at Kerstin. His hair was mussed, his mouth stern. Kerstin scowled right back. She sprang from the bed and began to gather up her things.

“What are you saving it for?” he asked.

Kerstin looked down at the red silk she held in her hands. Her wedding dress. Somehow she no longer

regretted marrying Jonas. Guilt lodged deep inside her heart when she thought of his first wife. If not for her, the woman would be alive and Jonas would belong to another.

How could she ever bridge the gap of pain caused by Bjorn and Olga’s deaths? It seemed impossible.

“I was saving the aloe for you,” she said.

Jonas snorted. “Where is it?” His stormy brow

showed he had lost patience.

She gave a deep sigh. The man would not stop until he got what he wanted. She pointed at the table on his side of the bed. “Right there.”

He snatched the pot up before she could blink and returned to her, where he took her hand and pulled her back to the bed. She thought of fighting him but knew it wouldn’t do any good. Somehow, it didn’t matter anymore.

Pushing her down on the furs, he smoothed the

cooling ointment over her chest and arms. The creamy substance soothed her. Kerstin sighed, watching his grave expression.

“You’re too used to getting your way,” she whispered as she laid her head back on his pillow and closed her eyes.

Jonas’s hands moved with a gentle touch. “I’ll get you some more aloe. Perhaps this summer, I’ll take you with me to Birka and we’ll see if we can find the plant there.”

“Uh-huh,” she sighed, her eyes still closed. She was weary and in no mood to argue or make plans.

****

Jonas watched her sleep for some time. She must be

worn out. A pang of longing tore at his heart. He wanted to hold her in his arms. Just hold and kiss her. And if 194

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something more came of it, that would be nice, too.

He couldn’t stay long. He had his duties. Already Astrid’s shrill voice called for Ifor to come chop more wood for the cook fire. He heard his men’s laughter outside.

Jonas should be with them, helping prepare for their departure tomorrow morning.

His fingers traced Kerstin’s soft face one last time before he left her. Outside in the hall, the low thrum of the bull’s horn announced new arrivals.

His heart leapt. Perhaps a messenger had come to

bring news of his father and the battle.

Closing the door behind him, Jonas walked out of the hall and across the yard. As he made his way down the gentle slope leading to the quay, he caught the sharp scent of the river and damp earth.

The square sails of one of his father’s war ships waved from the dock. Sigurd! Could they have defeated the Eirikssons so soon?

As the men secured the vessel, Halfdan jumped off the ship and brushed sweaty hair back from his eyes. He clasped Jonas’s forearm, his expression dour. Without asking, Jonas knew Sigurd wasn’t with him.

“What news do you bring?” Jonas asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tovi race down the hill to welcome the warriors. By Odin’s toenails, why couldn’t she delay long enough for him to find out if there was bad news? She skidded to a halt by his side. Other people gathered as well, eager to hear word of Sigurd and the king.

Halfdan didn’t smile. His blue gaze darted to Tovi before he spoke to Jonas in a grave tone. “There are many dead. The battle has been bloody, but we’ve held the Eirikssons off.”

Jonas didn’t blink. Something was wrong; he felt it in his bones. Halfdan had yet to speak of Sigurd. A heavy foreboding weighted Jonas’s heart. Maybe he should speak with Halfdan in privacy. He discarded that

thought. He longed to spare his mother and the other women, but they had earned the right to know the truth.

“And my father? What news is there of him and the king?”

Halfdan accepted the drinking horn Beata handed

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