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‘You know what your father was like for ceremony,’ she said when she trusted her voice. ‘He liked things to be done precisely and with all due reverence.’
He nodded. ‘My father had exacting standards. He always said that unless a baby was strong, it was kinder to everyone that there be a quick death, rather than a lingering one.’
Barbaric standards. Kara bit back the retort. She truly had no idea how Ash felt about exposure. For Hring, it had been all about ensuring that only the strong survived, that weaklings didn’t take up food and resources. For her, Rurik was part of her flesh and blood. Fighting with her last breath for his survival was natural. She had done everything to ensure his survival, arguing that when Ash returned, Ash should have the final say over whether or not his child was strong enough to survive. After trying to starve her into submission and demonstrating to her the truth of the marriage, Hring had reluctantly agreed.
The morning after they had learnt of Ash’s death, Hring had finally formally accepted her son as his heir—her price for nursing him.
As soon as he could stand, Hring had made the signs and mumbled the words as Kara poured the wine over the tuntreet’s roots. The ceremony had been far from the ringing endorsement she’d hoped for, but it hadn’t mattered. Her son had a name and a future.
Before he’d died last winter, Rurik and his grandfather had become good friends. In his last days, Hring had even apologised to Kara with tears in his eyes. He’d named Rurik as his heir once again. But Harald Haraldson had mentioned the oddity of the ceremony at the funeral and she had known what he intended.
Kara wrapped her arms about her waist, trying to keep from shivering. Nothing was going to happen to Rurik. She’d won the fight for his life. He would be a good lord who looked after his people and his family; he wouldn’t abandon them in pursuit of glory.
‘Rurik is a healthy six-year-old,’ Kara said carefully. Rurik was healthy, even if he did have a weak chest and an inclination to get colds which lasted all winter.
‘When can I see him?’
‘When we go back to Jaarlshiem.’ Kara forced her voice to be steady. ‘I’ve no wish to expose him to court life until he is ready.’
‘Why not? I can remember coming to Sand with my father when I was about Rurik’s age. It opened a whole new world for me.’
‘Sand seems to be constantly suffering from one illness or another.’
‘Yet you risk it.’
‘He is safest in Jaarlshiem. He remains there.’
‘Safest?’ Ash’s face showed his incredulity. ‘Accidents and illness can happen anywhere.’
‘If you wish to see him, go to Jaarlshiem.’
‘I intend to. If you wish to join me on the journey, you may or if you wish to stay with your lover, you may do so.’
‘I have no lover.’ Kara bit out every word, shocked that he could even think that!
A wide triumphant smile crossed his face. ‘Good to know.’
She gripped the spinning whorl tighter so she wouldn’t give in to the temptation to throw it at him. ‘I was about to become Valdar’s bride. You must know the difference between a bride and a mistress.’
‘What a pity I spoilt the party,’ he commented drily. ‘I apologise, but I do have a prior claim. What is mine stays mine. Let this Valdar find his own bride...and his own son.’
‘Rurik is my son, as well.’
‘Rurik will become the sort of man any man would be proud to call a son, rather than clinging to your skirts.’
Kara concentrated on the spinning whorl, weighing it in her hand. She’d battled Hring about Rurik’s training. She’d battle Ash, as well. She needed a man she could count on to train Rurik properly, rather than abandon him to the fates or push him too far too soon. ‘We’ve an agreement, Ash. You are going to give me time.’
He slammed his fists together. ‘Made under false pretences. You should have told me of my son before you asked. Why didn’t you, Kara? What did you fear I’d do?’
Kara kept her head up and concentrated on a spot behind his shoulder. The man standing before her was a stranger, a warrior with no gentleness in him. The caring boy-hero who had once rescued her from a fall into the freezing waters while skating was no longer...if he’d ever existed anywhere but her imagination. ‘I’ve told you now.’
His jaw hardened. ‘What did you think I’d do to you?’
‘Does the agreement stand?’ she whispered when she trusted her voice. ‘Please, Ash. You owe me a life debt.’
