Page 11 of Claimed by the Viking (Bound and Betrothed #4)

CHAPTER 11

When Viggo stirred, she pressed her lips to his in an urgent kiss, wanting to recapture the closeness they’d shared earlier.

She had no answers to the turmoil within her.

All she could do was show him her care and hope it was enough.

At last, he broke off, rolling onto his back. He said naught, staring blankly skyward.

The sun had moved a good portion but was still high above them. ‘Twas strange to think he could feel its warmth but see nothing of its brightness. Signy raised herself upon her elbow.

“Close your eyes, my love. ‘Tis not good for you to gaze so directly.”

He made a scoffing sound but threw his arm over his face, nonetheless.

How suddenly his moods shift.

Signy bit back what she wished to say—that she still held hope for his sight returning. ‘Twas a conversation they’d had enough times.

She shared those hopes only in her prayers now, beseeching the gods for their intervention.

With some effort, she pushed down her disquiet. “Is it not a perfect day? I’ve never been more content than I am at this moment, here with you.”

“Aye, ‘tis perfect!” The bitterness in his tone was clear. “Never have I been happier nor more miserable!”

Tentatively, she touched his cheek. “Tell me of when you were only happy. I know your childhood was not always carefree, but all children strive for joy. What games did you play with your brothers before you entered the mines?”

He brushed her hand away. “If there was such a time, I’ve forgotten it.”

Still, she pressed. “Your future then. How did you imagine it, one day returning to your family’s homestead? I want to hear you speak of the place. Does the house stand within meadows such as this? Is there a stream nearby for watering your livestock? What animals do you?—”

“Enough!” Viggo’s temper flared. “Why would I wish to dwell on a place I’ll never see again?”

Signy swallowed back her brimming tears, knowing he spoke sharply because he was bereft. “If your jarl repairs the ship, you might return and take me with you. My eyes can serve us both. You’d soon find familiarity, enough to make a success of things, and we’ll have children! Lots of them who can help on the farm. Think of it, Viggo. You deserve a family and a future.”

Keeping his arm as it was, concealing the upper half of his face, he spoke haltingly. “Even were that possible, you don’t know what you’re saying. The labor you’d be forced to undertake! You think that’s what you deserve? To be married to a cripple, working your fingers to the bone?”

“I’ll never see you that way. Don’t you understand? You’re mine, Viggo, and I don’t want to let you go!”

There, I’ve said it!

“You think I have the capacity to return your feelings, but without my father, without my brothers…” His voice was tight. “I only have myself, and it’s not enough, not like this…”

Pushing herself upright, she glared down at him. “I know things have been difficult, not just since… but before. I know your life has been hard, but don’t tell me you have no one. What do I need to say to you?”

He mightn’t be able to see the expression on her face, but he could surely hear in her voice how she was beseeching him. “You say you’re alone, but it isn’t true, or it doesn’t need to be. You must know that I love you!”

It wasn’t how she’d intended to tell him.

She’d thought the words many times. Now, she’d uttered them aloud, but not in the way she wanted to. Who declared their love in ill temper?

Viggo remained still, his lips pursed to a thin, hard line.

Ridiculous, stubborn man! Why are you so unyielding?

“I tell you I love you, and you give me no reply. You wish to be obstinate, to deny what’s between us? Lie here then and think on all I’ve said!”

Rising to her feet, Signy stalked away.

How can he be so pig-headed?

As if I haven’t done enough! What more does he need?

Uncaring of the taller grasses scratching her legs, Signy strode across the meadow. She’d paused long enough to snatch up her undershift but not her gunna . She’d been too eager to put distance between them.

He should stew awhile, then he’ll see what he’s throwing away.

Angrily, she swiped away her tears.

How dare he act as if our time together means nothing!

Unconsciously, she’d let her feet take her in the direction of the hives. Of course, she’d been planning to come this way before they departed the meadow, but she needed the contents of her bag to do anything useful. The bees were accustomed to her and rarely stung, but she liked to make sure she was covered, nonetheless. That included donning a headdress with some gauzy material draped over the top to protect her face.

She halted, squinting over at the ten wooden boxes raised up on stilts. Usually, they were abuzz with insects passing in and out through the downward-sloping slats. Today, she couldn’t discern much activity at all.

Had they discovered plants coming richly into bloom somewhere far off and were occupied there? Even so, she’d have expected a good portion of the colony to remain, guarding the hives.

Taking a step closer, something pricked underfoot, and she let out a yelp.

That’s what I get for walking off without my boots!

Gingerly, she balanced on one leg, lifting up her other to inspect the sole of her foot. A small red patch was evident, surrounding a thorn of sorts. Except it wasn’t a thorn at all, but the stinger of a bee.

Scrutinizing the ground, she saw it—the black-and-yellow striped creature was trembling in the final moments before death. In treading upon it, she’d inspired the fatal defense in which the bee had speared her skin, tearing off its lower abdomen in the process.

Kneeling, she scooped up the insect.

I’m so sorry. That was clumsy of me, but what were you doing crawling upon the earth?

A faint buzz drew her attention to another bee lying prone. Scanning about her, she counted three more. Two had already ceased moving. The other hovered a little, rising from the ground lethargically to cling to some cow parsley.

It wasn’t unusual to find an ailing lone bee upon the ground, but strange for so many to be gathered together, all in the same sad condition.

Signy glanced about but could detect nothing out of order.

Another thought struck her. Mightn’t there be more scattered about the radius of the hives? It would explain why there hadn’t seemed to be much activity. She set off again, being careful to pay attention to where she stepped.

Approaching the nearest of the hives, she counted another twenty bees—most in a subdued state and several unmoving. A few half-hearted stragglers bobbed about the wooden structure, looking disoriented.

Trepidation stabbed at Signy.

What does this mean?