But the pain in her eyes when she left him matched his own.
Chapter Forty-Four
“The Norse ha’gone off raiding again.” Borald greeted Quarrie with those words when he climbed the steps to pace the walls, some days later. “We saw them sail past just after dawn.”
Quarrie narrowed his eyes upon the sea, even thoughFreyawould be long gone. He’d been waylaid en route here by half a score of people wishing to state their complaints.
About the Norse.
When are they going to leave? Will they hold our lands forever? ’Tis good hunting ground to which ye ha’ given them leave.
And,Why do they come here so often? Can they no’ keep to their own camp?
How long will they use our lands to prey upon our neighbors?
He had but few answers for his folk, who clearly were not happy with him.
The Norse did come to the settlement frequently, mostly to trade, a familiar if unwelcome sight. They paid well for the goods they bought, the ugly truth being that they price they offered had blood upon it. Scottish blood.
The three Norse leaders—the man called Garik, the one named Helje who Hulda said was Garik’s brother, and Hulda herself—came most often. Indeed, Garik had become…not friendly, for it was far from that, but garrulous with some of their folk. He, like Hulda, possessed a working knowledge of theirtongue. A good-looking young man, he also possessed a measure of charm, and Quarrie had seen him more than once talking with their young women.
His men did not like it, and more than one had told Quarrie so. Indeed, he tired of hearing about the Norse.
If the complaints were the price he must pay in order to see Hulda, however, aye, he was willing to pay it.
He had seen her in passing, though they had been alone together only once more. A night of bliss that had been, for they had sated themselves in one another, mating in every way a man and woman could, and then some. His Hulda, it proved, was both imaginative and uninhibited. Despite her having left him utterly spent, however, the desire for her continued to gnaw at him after.
Which just went to prove that whatever he had of her could not be enough.
“They will be leaving soon,” he told Borald. “Off back to Norway.”
Borald’s gaze flew to him. “Is that what she told ye, the woman warrior?”
Quarrie hesitated. The whole clan knew he and Hulda met to talk. He could only pray they suspected naught more. Yet he swore he caught a gleam of knowing in Borald’s blue eyes.
“They will go home for winter, aye.”
That made Borald snort. “Winter is a long way off, curse them.”
It was not, not truly. On days like this one, clear, far-reaching days with a brisk wind off the sea, Quarrie could almost smell autumn.
His chances to see Hulda, talk with her, lie with her, dwindled. And these days might be all he would ever have.
She did love him, aye. He could not doubt that. Yet their situation was all but impossible.
Their alliance, however, had helped to keep the settlement safe. He had no doubt of that either. For during these days,Freya’s sails were not the only ones the Scots keeping watch had sighted. One afternoon, a group of three longboats had appeared out in the waters just past Oileán Iur. Defenses had scrambled, men racing for arms, women gathering their children and fearing the worst.
Before any attack could come, however,Freya—in readiness for a voyage of her own—had sailed out to meet the incomers.
Hulda had herself related what passed between them, during the night they shared that came soon after.
“I told their leader, a man I did not know, for he is not from my homevík, that these are our waters. He agreed to turn away.”
She had done as she’d promised, acted as a fierce hound on Quarrie’s behalf. That did not mean others would not come, after she had gone.
“Keep good watch,” he told Borald now. “Wi’ them awa’, we are more open to danger.”
Borald snorted again. “Wi’ all respect, chief, d’ye no’ think we can look after oursel’s? ’Tis what we did long before that lot came.”
