“Bring blankets, quickly! And put more wood on the fire in the hall,” Ragna shouted as she approached.
Gemma took a step towards her and was about to call out when a large hand clamped over her mouth and she was yanked back against a hard, muscular body. She tried to scream and pull away, but her captor was too strong. Then she saw the deeply scarred skin on the man’s hand. Arne.
“Shh,” he said. “I won’t hurt you. Swear to me you won’t shout.”
She tensed. How dare he treat her this way? She pushed at him, but he tightened his grip and fear slithered through her. He was stronger than her. He could easily hurt her if he chose to do so. Panic set in, and she pushed against him again.
“They must not see you. What if they are here to kill you? Or Caelin?”
She forced herself to relax in his grip. He might be right. He might not. No one had tried to kill her yet, but being out of her brother’s control for the past four months would not have made him think more kindly of her. Whether or not Arne was kind, she knew his brothers would not tolerate him harming her physically. His brother Björn had nearly died saving and bringing her to safety last year, and the jarl had given her his word that he would protect her. She owed these men so much already. Staying quiet was not too much to ask.
She nodded and he removed the hand from her mouth, but kept her tight against his body. To anyone who happened to notice them, they might look like a couple standing close together simply to watch the rescue.
“I’ll not shout or make a scene,” she whispered.
“Why are you out here?” he demanded.
“I came to fetch Ragna. Aoife is unwell and is asking for her. Do you want me to disobey your jarl’s wife?”
“And where is your son?”
Einar and Elisedd were back on the beach, in the shallow water, eagerly awaiting the return of the longship to shore with the rescued men.
“I think your boys must have taken him to our room as soon as the ship was spotted, as they have been told to. I have not seen him outside since.”
“You should go there too. Now. Before you endanger us.”
Gemma’s breath caught. “I would ne… never…”
“You may have all the others fooled with your smiles and your beauty, but I will not take any risks. If you are not a traitor, then you will do as I ask.”
She pulled away from him, and he let her go. “How dare you? You said they might kill me. Were you just manipulating me into obedience?” She kept her voice low, despite her anger. Drawingattention to them would only justify his accusations that she meant to alert the fishermen to her presence.
“Yes.”
She opened her mouth to argue, and he put a finger to her lips.
“Not here. Not now,” Arne said.
Gemma swallowed, but nodded. Arne was right, she should not be here. The thought he held such a grudge against her wounded her. Hadn’t she done everything in her power to prove she would follow Tormod’s instructions, live as the Norse lived? She had asked for nothing except to be allowed to stay, and she’d earned her keep all winter by sewing and mending. But this was not the time to argue with Arne. For now, her priority was Aoife.
“Then you must tell your mother Aoife needs her. And quickly.”
“I will. Now go, but do not draw attention to yourself. Go nowhere except your room.”
Gemma nodded again even as anger coursed through her. Who was this man to give her orders? She was no common woman who needed to obey a jarl’s cousin without question. And the tone of his voice made it sound like he thought she was the enemy. Even his comment about her being beautiful had seemed more like a criticism than a compliment.
Behind her, the longship scraped onto the shingle. This was a discussion for later, so she headed back to the hall. Several thralls were hurrying back and forth, and she did her best to blend in with them, although anyone watching closely would see the difference in their clothing.
At the door, she risked a quick glance back and saw the men being helped ashore, and Arne and his mother Ragna coming towards her. She made the mistake of looking at Arne. His anger was palpable. She hurried inside, away from the man who looked at her more as a foe than a friend. Once in the great hall, she headed directly for the corridor leading to her room. A door atthe end was being held open and she recognised Aoife’s maid, Rhiannon, standing in the dim light.
“Gemma!” Rhiannon called to her. “I’ve been waiting. Lady Aoife is asking for you. She said you had gone to fetch Ragna.”
“Ragna is on her way,” Gemma said and opened the door of her own room.
“You’re not coming to see her?”
Gemma shook her head. “Arne has told me to go to my room. How is she?”
