Page 20 of Viking in Love

CHAPTER TWENTY

T he path to true love is mighty rocky…

It was by far the most unusual wedding that had ever occurred in Northumbria, perhaps the whole world. The blond godly handsome knight and the hunchbacked lady.

Breanne and her sisters could not stop giggling, even during the overlong ceremony performed by Archbishop Dunstan. The king and his troop had left afterward, having accomplished or not having accomplished what he had wanted. Besides, they had no way of knowing there would a real feast to follow, no more of that bland fare fit for only peasants.

Because it was a wedding feast, Dunstan had been forced to allow women at the high table, but he did not like it, and made sure he was at the opposite end. Working with the Heatherby cook, Ingrith had surpassed herself with the food.

The archbishop kept criticizing Sybil for providing such a merry feast when, in fact, she should still be in mourning. But Breanne noticed that the priests ate heartily; no fasting for them.

While several young girls played lutes, the kitchen helpers were carrying in trenchers of food. Among the meats were roast boar in Ingrith’s special sauce, mutton, several pigs cooked whole in hot coals, calf brains, and the organs of all the animals. If meat was not to the feast goers’ taste, there were five kinds of freshwater fishes: trout in honey cream, oat-stuffed pike, gingered carp, poached perch in mustard sauce, and pickled eels. Egg and mushroom pies, various cheeses including the Viking skyr , manchet bread, and honey-oat cakes accompanied various vegetable dishes, like creamed turnip, lentils with lamb, marrow-thickened cabbage, herbed beets, buttered peas. If that weren’t enough, there were savory puddings and apple tarts. And of course, mead and ale, lots of it.

“I think we should leave for Larkspur this evening, whilst there is still light,” Breanne’s father said to her. He was seated at her right, and Caedmon on her left.

“I have already sent word ahead to prepare for you and your army,” Caedmon told him. “You are welcome at Larkspur, but do not expect much.”

“Caedmon! Why would you say that? Larkspur is a lovely place,” said Breanne.

His face flushed. “I only meant it is not as grand as what you might be accustomed to.”

“Hah!” Thorvald said. “You would be surprised at where I have put my head down on occasion.” He studied Caedmon for a few moments, then added, “I like you. Too bad you will not suit for my Breanne.”

“What? Father! Caedmon has not offered for me. We merely pretended an upcoming betrothal to divert the archbishop and king’s attention. So, discussion of his suitability is unseemly.”

Her father and Caedmon both grinned.

“Furthermore, if I wanted to marry this loathsome lout, I would be the one to judge his suitability, which would be more than satisfactory.”

“Huh?” Caedmon said.

Her father let loose with a chortle of laughter. “I merely meant that Caedmon wants no more children, whilst I yearn for a grandson.”

It was Breanne’s turn to blush.

The subject was changed when her father said to Caedmon, “Didst know that Adam, my son-by-marriage, drilled a hole in my head one time? Save me from death, it did.”

The two of them carried on a conversation around her then, but that was just as well because she felt a vise closing over her heart at the prospect of leaving Caedmon behind when she left with her father. They would all return to Larkspur to await Vana’s return, which might be only a matter of days.

And Breanne realized something horrible in that instant.

She had fallen in love with the loathsome lout.

And she was not the only one to come to that realization.

Rashid was just passing by behind her, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.”

Unfortunately, this was only a one-sided love.

And Caedmon must never find out.

The only gift he wanted was…you know what…

They had been back at Larkspur for two days, and Vana had not yet returned. King Thorvald and his followers were restless. And Caedman was miserable beyond anything he had ever imagined.

The first thing Thorvald had done was order wagonloads of goods to be delivered to Larkspur. Food, spices, barrels of ale, cattle, horses, sheep, goats, even a flock of noisesome peacocks.

When Caedmon protested, the old man had pulled him into another of those rib-crushing bear hugs, and he had even kissed him on the cheek. “’Tis the least I can do to repay you for what you have done for my daughters. You risked much, and I must needs show my gratitude.”

What I have done is swive your daughter. So, please, no more gifts.

Caedmon would have argued more, but the king had chosen that moment to ask, “Is there any chance you might marry Breanne?”

Oh, good Lord. Did I say that aloud? “Huh? What? Uh, why do you ask that?”

“Your stuttering is answer enough.” Thorvald had sighed with disappointment. “I see the way you two look at each other betimes when you think no one is looking. I just thought…”

He shrugged.

I look at her like that because I cannot not look. I am like a starving man watching a juicy boar steak float by. “Thorvald…I mean, Your Highness—”

The king waved that higher address aside.

“…I have great respect for your daughter, and if I were ever going to marry again, I would be honored to have Breanne. But you can see how things are here. Children everywhere. A man reaches a point where it is just too much.”

“’Tis a sad thing when a man disdains the gifts the gods give him. No matter what you say, children are gifts.”

“I know they are, but I have too many gifts.”

He had stormed away then.

But speaking, or thinking, about his children brought him to the problems they were currently causing him. Not a one would speak to him, except Piers, who could not speak anyhow. Angus, angry all the time anyway, had walked up and kicked him in the shin, hard, and without speaking just stomped away on his little legs. They wanted Breanne to stay, and they blamed him for her imminent departure. He also suspected that they felt responsible by their mere existence…which in some ways was true.

When had his life become so complicated?

He knew the answer to that without thinking. When the princesses had arrived at his door.

Right now he had another bone to pick with King Thorvald. He found him sitting outside in an armed chair he had ordered one of his men to bring out so he could watch the soldiers exercise, both his and the Larkspur hird.

“What is the meaning of this?” he said right off, dropping the two heavy leather bags onto the king’s lap.

Thorvald jerked back with surprise. “A gift.”

“What for?”

“Does there have to be a reason? We Vikings like to give gifts. Wouldst begrudge me that?”

The sly old bird! “Listen, there has to be several hundred mancuses of gold in those bags. I cannot accept it.” Even if I need it.

“Yea, you can. Did your mother never teach you manners, how to accept a gift graciously?”

“My mother died when I was nine.” Try learning manners from a father who favored a heavy hand with his children.

“That explains it then.”

“Explains what?” Good Lord! Shut your teeth, Caedmon!

He just smiled at him. “Take these heavy things off my lap afore you give me a cramp. You know I will find a way to leave them behind if you do not take them openly.”

Walking back to the keep, muttering curse words under his breath, he ran into Breanne, knocking her to the ground. Which was an amazing thing in itself. He had been avoiding her like a…well, rash. No good would be served by them being together anymore.

But wait. She had been blathering something about visitors.

“What is it?” he asked, helping her to stand.

“Four riders are approaching. I think it might be Vana.”

Caedman put the bags of gold inside, then followed after her, but at a slower pace because he recognized in that moment that if Vana was here it meant they would all soon be departing, never to return.

How would he bear it?

Sometimes true love does run smooth…

Breanne and her sisters were waiting in the upper courtyard for Vana, their father having insisted on their staying with him.

Wulf, Ivan, and Ivar dismounted, then helped Vana off her horse. Without skipping a beat, she smiled widely and ran toward them. First into her father’s big arms. Then, hugging and kissing each of them. “At last, my sweet, I can take you home,” her father said, swiping at the tears in his eyes.

Holding her away from him, he examined her features. Luckily, all the bruises had faded, and she no longer had her arm in a sling. In fact, she looked better than she ever had, having gained some weight, and her skin had a healthy color.

Vana turned again to her four sisters, who enclosed her in a group hug, with more tears and hugs. What a relief that their dangerous escapade was over!

Just then, their father interrupted them. “Now, let your sister breathe. Step back. Vana, I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh, please, no more surprises. My life has been too full of surprises of late. I want to go home and live a calm, uneventful existence.”

“I do not think that is going to happen.” Her father turned Vana by the shoulders so she could see the man approaching with a slight limp.

Vana gasped and put a hand over her mouth. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Rafn, is it truly you? Oh, please, gods, do not let this be a dream.”

“Heartling,” Rafn choked out.

They ran toward each other.

In a shout of joyous triumph, he lifted her in his arms so her feet dangled off the ground and hugged her tightly. He was crying, too. “I never thought I would see you again.”

“I thought you were dead.”

They kissed then, long and passionate.

“You look thinner.”

“You look more beautiful than ever.”

More kisses and disbelieving caresses as if to prove the other was actually there.

“Will you marry me?”

“How soon? Can we do it today?”

“I blame myself for your horrible treatment at the hands of that brute.”

She shook her head. “’Twas my fault. I should have had more faith.”

“I love you so much. I will never let you go again.”

“All the pain…all the worry these past sennights…having you back makes it all worthwhile.”

There wasn’t a dry eye amongst them. Vana had suffered so much. She deserved this reward. Rafn, too.

“I think it is time for us to go inside and give them privacy,” Breanne said.

She looked up then and saw Caedmon leaning against the wall of the keep, watching her. She wanted to rush into his arms, to beg him to ask her to stay, to say that he loved her. And she wanted to say, “Look at Rafn and Vana. Deep, abiding love does exist.” But his arms were folded over his chest, and his eyes were blank, without emotion.

“Thank you, Caedmon, for all you have done to bring us to this happy conclusion.” Please ask me to stay.

He shrugged. “Your father has thanked me enough. Too much, actually.”

“We will probably be leaving on the morrow,” she said. Plese ask me to stay.

His jaw seemed to clench at her words, and if she had expected him to say something, she was sorely disappointed.

He just spun on his heels and walked away.

He does not want me to stay.

Good-byes are such sweet sorrow…

Caedmon was drowning in family. It was bad enough coping with his ten children, but Breanne’s family and kin were overwhelming.

Even though Archbishop Dunstan had departed with his group, leaving Father Edward behind, there was still King Thorvald, the five princesses, Rashid, Ivan and Ivar, Rafn, Adam the Healer and his child, Lord and Lady Ravenshire. If they stayed much longer, he feared Eirik and Eadyth’s grown children and their spouses, along with Eirik’s brother Tykir and his family, would be descending on Larkspur like locusts. And they all wanted to help him. Sending unusual beehives to increase his production of honey. A new bull. Grains for planting. A better market source for his cattle. And of course the damn noisy bothersome peacocks, which were driving his cotters barmy.

In order to get rid of Dunstan, he had promised to go meet Lady Helen. A promise he had no intention of fulfilling. Breanne had overheard and looked as if he had stabbed her in the back.

He was sick of hugs, and tears, and more hugs, and good wishes, and gifts, and good wishes, and all that bloody happiness. Wulf, who was a mite folk-shy in crowds, shared his opinion and decided to go visit Geoff. Unfortunately, Caedmon could not leave his own keep. Besides, he had to be here when Breanne left, even if it was like sticking needles in his heart, a self-inflicted pain.

And his children were still not speaking to him. Not that he viewed that as any great hardship. Quiet children could be a blessing.

He just wished this ache in his chest would go away. It had been difficult avoiding Breanne these past few days, but the yearning for her remained. In some ways it was like he had a pig bladder in his chest that was being blown up, and blown up, and blown up. Eventually it was going to burst, and then where would he be? Shattered, he supposed.

“Do you love her?” Wulf had asked.

“Nay! Of course not. But I have a mighty lust for her.”

Wulf had just shaken his head at Caedmon’s hopelessness. “Lust for a highborn lady equals marriage, my friend.”

“Not for me!”

“Why do you resist so much?”

“I want a peaceful, orderly life. No more upheavals. I deserve as much. My children do, too. Breanne turns me upside down and inside out. Chaos reigns when she is around.”

Matters had not been helped by Rashid, who told him, “Even the camel knows that love is suffering.”

Thank God he would be hearing no more camel proverbs after tomorrow. Well, today, actually, since it was just past midnight.

He was lying on his bed, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for dawn to come. There would be no sleep for him tonight as his mind swirled with what-ifs.

Just then he heard a creaking sound and the door opening slowly. He shot up into a sitting position.

It was Breanne, wearing only a bed rail and carrying a candle, which she set down on a table by the door. Her hair was unbound, with long curly strands going every which way.

“Breanne?” Thank you, God!

“I drank ten cups of Amicia’s potion today…the one Rashid gave her. I figured I owe you four more nights on our bargain. Mayhap you would accept this one night as final payment.”

“Breanne, your father and your family have given me so many gifts of goods and money, it would be mean-spirited of me to demand any more from you.” Bloody damn hell! Forget sacks of gold and peacocks. I want you.

“You do not want me then?” She sighed deeply and seemed unsure what to do next.

Huh? How can you even think that? “Your father would be on me like a dog on a bone if he knew you were here. He would have me before the priest saying my wedding vows before I could say one word in my defense. Ahhhh!” he said then. “You have plotted a way to get me to marry you. Is your father in the hall waiting to pounce?” At this point, do I care?

Her green eyes went wide with shock.

“I have taken your maidenhead, Breanne. No way of repairing that cracked egg. For that alone, your father would kill me, or force me into matrimony. You have to know that. And yet here you are. How do you explain that?” Stop flapping, tongue. Take what she offers. Stop thinking, Caedmon.

“You loathsome, arrogant lout!” Tears were already leaking from her eyes, which she swiped away with the back of her hand. “What makes you think I would wed with you, even if asked? You do not want me? Fine! I would not have you on a silver platter with an apple in your lying teeth. Our bargain is over! Good night and good riddance!”

She had already opened the door and was about to leave when he jumped off the bed and lunged for her, knocking her to the floor. Oh, nay! You cannot offer me heaven and leave me in hell.

“Ooomph! Get off of me, you big, ignorant maggot. You are crushing me.”

“Shhhh!” he said, picking her up. “Or your father will be coming after me.” He carried her squirming body back into the bedchamber, locking the door behind him.

Tossing her to the center of the bed, he crawled up over her. He was naked. She would soon be naked. Is there anything more sensuous than the feel of skin on skin?

She thrashed and tossed from side to side, trying to escape. She truly did not want to be with him now.

“Breanne…sweetling, I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.”

“The only way you could hurt me would be if I cared, and I do not care a whit for you.”

He used a thumb to wipe the tears from her cheek. “Never say that I do not want you. I want you too much. I hurt in here…” he pounded his chest for emphasis, “…with my yearning for you.” And that, my dearling, is more than I can admit without baring my soul.

She stilled. “If you want me, why did you say what you did about my father?”

“Because it is true. Now, do not get your blood boiling again…leastways, not in temper.” They should rename me Caedmon the Tongue Flapper. “I meant that he would have good cause for attacking me. I have taken something precious from his daughter.”

“You have taken naught that I was not willing to give, but I deserve more.”

He stared at her, drinking in her beauty. He wished he had Geoff’s talent for charming love words, but the best he could come up with was, “Will you stay with me tonight, Breanne? Just this night?”

“That is why I came. Not to trap you. In fact, not for you, at all. For me. To close the door on our…relationship, for want of a better word. But I have changed my mind.”

Oh, nay, nay, nay! Think quick, you blundering fool. “I am so confused. Divided in heart and head. By responsibilities. And loyalty. Love of my land. Concern for my children. And caring for you. Yea, I do care, but it all comes at the wrong time. In truth, there probably was never a good time for our relationship .”

“Let me up, Caedmon. This was a mistake. I realize now that I did come here expecting more from you than a tupping or two, enjoyable as they might be. I admire you, Caedmon, but you are a coward.”

What? He rolled over to release her. “I would kill any man who called me that.”

“Good thing I am not a man then.” She stood and stared down at him, her expression sad but rigid with determination. When she got to the door and unlocked it, she said, “I will say good-bye to you tonight. Know this…I could have loved you, and that would have been a priceless gift, but you would have viewed it as yet another shackle, like your children. Shame on you.”

With those stinging words, she was gone.