Page 115 of A Tale of Two Vikings

How had it happened? When? Why?

He shrugged. It did not matter. It just had.

After their monumental sex event in front of the fire, Toste had made love to Esme again. Slowly. With adoration. He hoped she understood what he was trying to say with his body. Or did she need the words?

Well, before he could declare himself, he had other things that must be done first. He slid carefully off the bed and covered Esme’s sleeping form more completely. She was snoring slightly. He smiled, realizing he’d worn her out. Well, she’d worn him out, too.

He dressed and returned to the castle, having no trouble making his way along the path by the light of the full moon. He went upstairs and got the items he required. When he came back down, he noticed Bolthor sitting alone before the fire. All around him, soldiers and servants slept in alcoves and on floor pallets.

“Bolthor, what are you doing up?”

“I could not sleep,” he said. “My leg wound bothers me betimes.”

Toste nodded, understanding fully. He still got megrims on occasion from his head wound.

“You smell like roses.”

Toste sniffed his own arm and grinned.

“So, how is the punishing going?” Bolthor asked with an answering grin.

“Wonderful,” he said, grinning back. They were a couple of grinning fools.

“I can see that,” Bolthor said. “You look different.”

“Happy?”

“Mayhap,” he replied. “Methinks I should compose a special rhyming poem for you. Methinks a good title would be ‘Rhyme and Punishment.’ Do you like that?”

“I do. I like it.”

Bolthor noticed the saddlebag slung over Toste’s shoulder then and said, “So, you are off. To Evergreen?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure you want to go alone?”

“It is something I must do alone. Take care of my Esme for me.”

Bolthor’s eyes widened at his words, but then he nodded and said, “Be safe.”

When Toste returned to the hut, he placed all the items he’d gathered at the keep on a chair. Walking to the bed, he looked down at Esme’s still sleeping form. Should he awaken her? Or not? In the end, he chose to let her sleep. But he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips.

I love you, Esme.

Wait for me.

Gone…gone…gone…

Esme awakened just after dawn with a smile on her face.

Toste was absent, but that didn’t concern her. He’d probably gone up to the castle to get them some food…and clean bed linens.

Replete from last night’s bedsport, she fell back to sleep and did not awaken till mid-morning. Almost immediately, she realized that Toste had not returned. And the fire was out.

Rising warily, she looked across the room and saw arranged on a chair, her gown, shoes, hose and a cloak. She did not have to check the door to know that it was unlocked. It was clear that Toste had left the clothing so that she could return to the Ravenshire keep.

And it was equally clear that he would not be there when she did. He was gone. He’d had his fill of her, even before her “punishment” was completed, and this was his way of releasing her from their pact.