Page 85 of Lord of Fire and Ice

“My uncle used to say terns mate for life,” Brandr said. “He watched the same pair nest near his longhouse for nearly twenty years.”

Mate for life. She and Brandr were pledged to do the same. Divorce was not unheard of. The grounds for severing a marriage were laid out in the Law, but as warmly as she felt toward him now, she couldn’t imagine denouncing him at the door to her longhouse before witnesses.

And after the way they joined their bodies together earlier, denouncing him beside their bed seemed an even more remote possibility. He’d loved her body just as she needed him to, now rough, now gentle.

Love. She felt it. Why was she so hesitant to say it? Something inside her resisted letting him know she was beginning to need him more than her next breath.

“The tide and wind are with us,” Brandr said once she emerged from the hudfat fully dressed. “Just around the next point, you’ll see my brother’s jarlhof on the right.”

The pine forest was so thick, and it raced down almost to the water’s edge. Katla wondered how she’d see anything. Especially since they were quickly losing the light. An endless expanse of trees rushed up to where the mountains poked out their craggy bald heads. The rocky tips were still sun kissed, but the shadow of evening crept steadily upward. A third of the way up the slope, just where the shadow stopped, a high, steep roof of thatch rose above the treetops.

She stole a glance at Brandr, and her heart swelled at the look of fierce joy on his face. Five years was a long time to be so far from all the things he obviously loved.

Time enough for those things to change.

“When I was trapped in that sethus, the men talked of someone coming to this fjord. Someone named Bloodaxe,” she said. “Do you know whom they meant?”

Brandr shook his head, some of the pleasure of his homecoming draining from his features. “No, but I know they meant no good. There’s someone in Jondal who might know who this Bloodaxe is.”

“If she’s still alive.”

Katla heard his thought but kept quiet about it as they approached the wharf, so Brandr could concentrate. Besides, until she untangled the mystery of why she seemed able to hear his thoughts while hers were mute to him, she didn’t want to broach the subject.

He muscled the coracle to the wharf, where several drakkars rode at anchor. Their long-necked prows were topped with carved dragon heads, fearsome images designed to frighten the land spirits into allowing the sailors to make landfall without any interference from their shadowy realm.

Brandr frowned at the ships. “Looks like Arn already has company.”

“Not friendly company?” Katla picked up little Linnea and held her close, reveling in the moist, sweet breath of the sleeping babe. So innocent. So trusting. The world was filled with danger for one so helpless and weak. Katla tightened her grip till the child squirmed fitfully.

“I don’t know yet if they’re friend or foe,” he admitted as he climbed out of the boat and made it fast. “I recognize a few of the ships. They belong to chieftains who’re supposed to be loyal to my brother.”

“Supposed to be? You don’t sound very sure.”

“Time has a way of changing things. Jondal is strategically placed in the center of Hardanger Fjord. It’s two-days’ sail to the mouth or the headwaters. Its very location is a temptation to those who seek to expand their influence. But we hope for the best,” he said, strapping on his shoulder baldric before he handed Katla and the child onto the wharf beside him. “Plan for the worst. Stay behind me.”

Ordinarily, Katla followed no one, but she felt no inclination to argue as she and the babe trailed him into the woods. The smell of moss and rot and green growing things tickled her nostrils. They hadn’t gone a dozen paces into the deep shadow when they heard a low voice order them to halt.

Brandr froze, hands upraised to show he meant no ill. “Harald, is that you? You’re getting close sighted as an old woman.”

His friend stepped from behind a thick-trunked pine, with an arrow knocked on the string. The red-haired giant grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Brandr. I didn’t recognize you with your hair and beard cropped so short. See you managed to lose the iron collar.”

Katla stepped from behind Brandr on the narrow path.

“I think you already know my wife,” he said to his friend.

“The thrall collar wasn’t enough. You had to go and find a new slave ring,” Harald muttered. “A child too? Didn’t think you’d been gone long enough for that.”

“We need to find a wet nurse for her as soon as possible,” Katla interrupted before Brandr could say the child wasn’t theirs. Whether he was willing to claim the babe or not, Linnea was hers, and that was all there was to it. “Do you know if there’s a nursing mother at the jarlhof?”

Harald shrugged his massive shoulders. “Ask once you get there. Well, you’re here at least, Brandr. That’s as good as we can expect.”

“What’s happened? I can’t remember a time a guard was posted on the wharf.” Brandr asked as he fell into step with his friend. Katla and the babe brought up the rear, her ears pricked to their conversation.

“Arn’s failing. We’ve tried to prop him up, but the chieftains are set to challenge him. We thought we could hold his jarlship a while longer, provided none of the others joined in. So we watch the harbor in case someone decides to take a stab at the Iron Crown.” Harald clapped him on the back. “But you’re here now. Let’s drain a horn together to celebrate your homecoming.”

“It’s still a good idea to watch the harbor,” Katla said, thinking of the enigmatic Bloodaxe Tryggr and his cohorts were expecting.

“She’s right,” Brandr said. “Stay here, and when I get to the jarlhof, I’ll send someone to relieve you.”