Page 16 of The Barbarian’s Claim (Not-So-Savage Barbarians #4)

Sixteen

MATTHEW

W e arrived back at the clan village a few days later.

We had no more run-ins with dangerous creatures, and Einar was generous each night in giving me what I craved.

I wanted to try new things with him, but he refused until we had oil to ease our joining.

He insisted on keeping things simple for the time being.

Since I enjoyed simple very much, I did not pout. Much.

I was surprised that pouting worked on him.

He was usually so stoic. To know that such expressions worked to soften him to my desires was a heady thought.

I would have to be careful in using that magic on him, though.

I did not want the ability to fade from overuse.

He smiled when I did it, and each curve of his lips felt like a gift.

The first time he’d smiled at me, I nearly swooned.

After emptying our packs and getting more comfortable, Einar set to work on preparing firewood, since there was none left from before our journey.

I wanted to stay and watch, it was sexy watching him chop wood, but it was still early enough in the day to do laundry, so I took our clothes to the river instead to wash.

I wanted to be a good bondmate for him, but I was not skilled in many ways.

Helping him with the chores was something I was able to do, and he seemed pleased with me when I did so without complaint.

Tugging off my boots and setting them aside, I rolled the legs of my trousers above my knees so they wouldn’t get wet.

The water was cold enough to make me gasp, but I forced myself to continue, finding a few rocks big enough for the washing.

It was a thoughtless chore, and my mind wandered as I scrubbed each item, thinking about our journey.

I hoped that Einar would bring me again if he went on another long trip, but I wondered if maybe a larger bedroll was needed.

He ended up partially lying on the ground to fit us both, and I worried about him being so exposed.

I didn’t wish to separate and have my own.

Was it possible to make a bedroll myself that would fit us better?

“Matthew?”

Startled out of my train of thought, my head jerked up to look at who’d called for me. Simon stood on the bank of the river, watching me. When he had my full attention, his gaze dropped to the water, and his nose wrinkled.

“Aren’t you freezing?”

Glancing down at the water, then back up at him, I shook my head slowly.

It was cold, sure, but I’d experienced much worse before.

It was a miracle I’d survived the first winter after I’d left the orphanage.

Most nights that first year, I felt like I might not wake up, the cold stealing the breath from my lungs.

He eyed the water again, taking a half step back like he wanted to avoid it at all costs.

I tipped my head, giving him a questioning look.

While I was getting more comfortable speaking with Einar, he’d said I didn’t need to speak around others if I didn’t wish to.

And Simon didn’t seem to care. He made a face, lifting the pot in his hand.

“Maman needs more water. I lost the bet on who had to fetch it. I hate the river. It’s too damn cold.”

I could understand that. I’d heard Simon was from a town far in the south, where it was warm all year round. He would not be used to the chilly water.

Setting down the clothes I had been wringing out on the rock, I waded closer to him, putting my hands out for the pot. I was already in the water. I didn’t mind getting it for him.

Relief overtook his expression, and he smiled gratefully as he handed me the pot.

“Thanks. I know Feigrind spoils me by warming water for me whenever I need it, but it’s just awful how cold it gets.

I don’t understand how they bathe in it.

It feels like my balls want to crawl into my body just dipping my toe in. ”

My mouth twisted in a poor attempt to hide my snicker. I’d never thought of it that way.

A flash of mischievousness crossed Simon’s face, and he crossed his arms with a smug grin. “You agree with me, don’t you?”

I tipped my head side to side. Einar had yet to allow me to bathe in the river. He brought a small pot of warmed water to me, and I bathed just outside our tent. He said I was too thin to get fully in the water.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Simon said suddenly.

My face fell, and I gave my focus entirely to the pot, filling it close to the top.

Most people got frustrated with my refusal to speak.

Orn was an example of that. While Simon and I weren’t friends, I didn't want to make more enemies in the clan.

Einar was already kept at a distance. Having a difficult bondmate would only make things worse for him.

“Hey…” Simon’s voice softened, and he twisted to catch my eye when I handed him back the pot of water.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not like you outright ignore people.

Besides, I’m the opposite. I love to talk.

I’ve got no problem spending time with people who are content to just listen to me speak. ”

Hesitantly, I looked up at him, searching his face for a hint of a lie. His lips were pressed together, his eyebrows lifted in an expression of gentle reassurance. My shoulders relaxed a little, and I nodded to show I understood him.

Lifting the pot, he gave me another grateful smile. “Thanks for this. Don’t tell Maman I didn’t get it myself. She’ll say I cheated.”

He winked at me playfully, putting me more at ease. He didn’t need to worry about me telling anyone anything, and he knew it. He was just teasing.

He glanced at the water again, his face twisting up in a grimace. “You’re braver than I am. I’m gonna go before she comes looking to bitch at me. Thanks for your help.”

I waved as he walked away, wading back to the rocks to finish the washing. I was just moving on to another garment when Simon called out for me again. I looked up at the top of the slope that led to the banks of the river, cocking my head at him.

“If you want to avoid washing in ice water, you can join me and Finn. His bondmate warms a big pot for us and puts it near the river. I’ve got nice soaps that are better for your skin than what the clan uses.”

I hesitated. His offer was kind, and I was flattered that he’d invited me to join him, but I worried about being around the others. Large groups made me uncomfortable, and if Einar would not join me, I wasn’t sure I wished to go. I felt safest with him nearby.

He lifted a shoulder, readjusting the heavy pot in his hands.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.

I’ll come visit you later. I want to persuade Einar to spar with me again.

I tried with Feigrind. He goes easy on me, and it pisses me off.

” He pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing.

“It does lead to fantastic sex, though, so I’ll probably keep sparring with him, too. ”

My face flushed at the casual way he discussed sex. I liked how open he was, though. Perhaps I’d learn something from him if he came to visit.

Nodding in agreement, I showed in my expression that I looked forward to his visit. He smiled at me, wiggling his fingers in parting before striding back toward the camp.

Letting out a happy sigh, I turned back to my chores.

I’d thought when I volunteered as a tribute that my life would be rough.

I’d done it as a good deed, thinking I wouldn’t last the year anyway, and I wanted to do something nice.

Instead, I found myself bonded to a strong and protective man who took good care of me, and I’d potentially made a friend in the clan.

I’d come a long way from where I’d been only a few months ago.

Humming quietly to myself, I finished the washing and gathered it in the basket to carry it back, stopping long enough to fix my trousers and pull on my boots. I was about to head back to Einar’s tent when he showed up, a deep frown on his face. Tipping my head, I frowned back.

“W-what’s w-wrong?”

“You were gone too long. Did something happen?”

Warmth spread through my chest, and I smiled up at him, shaking my head. “I-I was t-talking to S-S-Simon.”

The tension in his face eased, and his shoulders relaxed. He really did care about my wellbeing. It had been so long since someone had, it still felt strange to me sometimes.

“Did he need something?” he asked as he fell into step beside me. His eyes scanned the way ahead, his gaze dark and suspicious, like always. I’d grown used to that, and I knew it had nothing to do with the clan. He was a careful man, even with his own clan. He was only doing it to keep me safe.

Shaking my head, I dropped my voice so I wouldn’t be overheard. It still made me uncomfortable to speak out loud while we were with the clan, even though there was no one around to overhear me.

“He w-was f-f-f—” I grimaced, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Einar’s hand settled on my lower back, and he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Don’t force yourself. I know you are trying.”

Relief made my shoulders slump, and I leaned into him a little for comfort.

I wondered if I would ever get used to his easy acceptance of me and my condition.

Everyone in town I’d been forced to speak with always got frustrated with me and yelled at me to spit it out.

Some even raised a hand at me, thinking they could force the words from me.

Only Einar calmly accepted my condition and encouraged me to take my time.

Once we arrived at his tent, where we were far enough away from the clan that I felt safe to speak, I tried again. “H-he was f-fetching w-water f-f-for… m-maman?”

That last word wasn’t in the common tongue, and I wasn’t sure if I said it right. Einar nodded, helping me to erect a line so we could hang the laundry.

“He speaks of Feigrind’s mother. She works with the clay to make pots.”

We fell into companionable silence after that, both of us tending to the daily chores.

Einar let me start the fire in front of his tent, which took a few tries.

I’d need more practice. Then he had me toss the dagger he’d given me at a nearby tree, telling me to aim for a cloth he’d attached to the trunk with a larger knife from his belt.

I was terrible at it, and I lost track of the number of times I had to run into the trees to fetch the blade as it bounced off the bark or missed entirely, but Einar was patient with me and only encouraged me to try again.

I really got lucky ending up with him.