Page 28 of Lord of Fire and Ice

“Who will come if the fire is lit?” Gormson wanted to know.

“We have alliances with several other farmsteads on Tysnes, but have no fear. We’ve been at peace for so long, the wood for the signal fire is like to rot before it’s burned,” Katla said with satisfaction.

On the last evening at night meal, Albrikt pressed his suit with fervor.

Brandr smiled broadly when Katla refused to give him an answer beyond thanking him for his offer. Her brothers had promised her a choice from three suitors, she said, and she would not give any a yea or nay until she’d had proper time to consider all her possibilities.

Brandr could have kissed her on the spot. If he hadn’t given his word not to, of course.

Honor was a damnably difficult thing to live with sometimes.

***

“Katla, I don’t know what you’re playing at, putting him off that way,” Finn said as they stood side by side on the wharf to see Gormson off. “You’ll never do better than Albrikt.”

“Send for the next two suitors, and let me be the judge of that,” she said as Albrikt’s broad-breasted knorr cleared the bay, its red-and-white striped sail swaying from the single mast in the choppier open water. “Son of Ulf!”

“I’m right here.” Brandr stepped forward, adding through gritted teeth, “And I’m not deaf.”

She knew he was nearby. Hadn’t he been her shadow the whole time Gormson was in residence? Even if she hadn’t ordered him to keep watch over her, he’d have found a way to do it on his own. Now that the Stord Islander was gone, Brandr breathed easier, but the iron collar chafed his soul no less. And the need to find a way to free himself so he could return home was no less on his mind.

She pursed her lips at his grumbling. It bordered on disrespect, but she let it pass. Katla evidently had other things on her mind besides humbling him.

“I’ll be gone the rest of the day,” she told her brother.

“Where are you off to?” Finn asked.

“I need to gather gull eggs, because someone butchered too many of my laying hens for his huge feasts.” She shot a glance toward Finn, curling her lip. “So we need to let the next several batches of eggs hatch.”

“Can’t even entertain a guest to suit you.” Finn shook his head in disgust. “Since there’s no pleasing you, Katla, why are you surprised when I don’t try?”

Katla flinched as her brother stomped away. Brandr wondered why no one else could see she wasn’t as immune to hurt as she tried to seem.

While the rest of her people headed back up the hill to the longhouse and their day’s labor, Katla started walking down the wharf toward a trim little coracle. Brandr fell into step with her from force of habit.

It had nothing to do with she being his mistress and he being her thrall. It was the swing of her skirts that drew him this time.

“The bird cliffs are on the far side of the island,” she said. “How good a sailor are you?”

His mouth twitched. “I sailed to the Great Inland Sea and back without getting lost. I think I can manage a trip around Tysnes.”

“Ja, well, then you’ll have no trouble readying the coracle while I fetch food and water,” she said brusquely as she turned to follow her people up the hill. She glanced over her shoulder at him and, amazingly enough, shot him a quick smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Brandr stepped into the small craft. His chest swelled with pleasure when the shallow hull swayed under his feet.

A man needed the wind in his face and the salt spray on his cheeks from time to time. He’d been landlocked only a short time, but even so, he missed the sea.

The climbing tackle and ropes they’d need to gather the gull eggs were in a tangled pile near the prow. By the time he recoiled the ropes, checked all the coracle’s lines, and made sure the sail was in good repair, Katla was making her way around the last bend in the path leading back down to the wharf. She carried a couple water gourds and a basket.

And her smile was still intact.

A whole day on the sea.

And in the company of a comely, smiling woman. His heart hadn’t been this light since before the iron collar was bolted around his neck.

He scrambled back onto the wharf to hand her into the coracle. Once she was settled on the seat near the prow, he loosed the mooring lines and gave the little boat a shove. Brandr leaped into the craft before it bobbed too far from the dock. The hull dipped under his weight but then righted itself so the waves didn’t wash over the sides.

He unfurled the sail and caught a breath of wind. Once out of the sheltered cove, the wind picked up, billowing the sail. The coracle lifted above the curling whitecaps, skimming along with eye-watering speed. Katla turned sideways on the front seat to watch the island’s coastline whip by them in a green blur where the heavy pine forests rushed down to meet the sea.