Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
His expression was crestfallen, the wound on his face brutal. We had our battle scars, though mine was one you couldn’t see. I could only feel it.
“I forgive you,” I whispered to him.
“I’m not sure you should.”
Then, he let go of my hand and shouted ahead to Knut. The boy clucked the horses, and they sped up to a canter as he shouted over at me. “We better get to the water while there’s still a bit of light out!”
But what I heard was that we needed to speed through my old memories before they consumed me. The wind tossed back my hair like a cape, and the four of us cantered down the lane, through the bare trees and the once-golden fields that now grew unattended and grey.
I wasn’t surprised to see my old home had been burned to the ground, as had most of the humble dwellings. It was better that way.
But I was surprised to see that all the bodies had been cleared away. I felt a pinch of relief, not knowing what I would have done or how it would have felt if I had seen Odette or Marc slain by the road. I didn’t care where the bodies had ended up; I was just glad they were gone. I could pretend it all had been a horrible dream.
It was near the boatsheds when we slowed, pulling the horses up before a small group of men standing around. I couldn’t see them properly in the falling light, but I could make out the looming shadows of the longships as they sat by the shore, the water spread out behind them, capturing the early moon.
Erik helped me off my horse, my boots sinking into the familiar mud, and he shouted greetings at the men. He embraced a few of them, all smiles, and they seemed delighted with his new rugged appearance. Apparently, Rolf hadn’t been the only one who thought Erik was far too pretty to be a Viking.
I stood by my horse, stroking its soft muzzle as Erik explained to the men. They kept looking at me, and once they realized I had nothing to offer, they looked to Karst and Knut, who nodded or interjected. If the men seemed suspicious, they didn’t show it, and the unease that had been building inside me dissipated once they all started laughing. They looked happy about going home.
Erik gave me a subtle smile and came over to me. I took my arm in his as he displayed me to the men.
“Cherine,” he introduced me to them, and they all either smiled or nodded. They seemed to tolerate me, and that was good enough.
Twenty minutes later, when the smallest longship had been loaded with supplies, we pushed off from the shore. Only two men had stayed behind, and their ship now had a crew of eight if they included me. And from Erik’s warning that I’d have to row part of the time, I did include myself.
As the mud beneath the boat fell away and the creaking ship was suddenly buoyant, Erik gave a hearty, thankful wave to the men on shore. Then, he turned from the stern, took my hand, and led me to the bow. Behind us, the six men rowed. In front of us, the sea opened like a moonlit flower, a dragon’s head our guide.
He bundled me up with cowhide and slipped his arm around my waist. A hazy warmth radiated from his arm and through my body, and I leaned my head against his non-injured shoulder.
“Just a little while now,” he murmured into my hair, planting a kiss on my head. “Then, we’ll both be free.”
Chapter 23
Erik
The voyage was cold and rough. Gales would start up in the middle of the night, sleet pounding the decks, and at times, the fog was so thick, he couldn’t see the tip of the mast, nor the dragon’s head as it pointed north.
Erik worked himself and the crew around the clock, trying to get home in record time. Even with half the sea between them and France, he still didn’t feel safe. He just wanted to get to Møre and, save for Knut and possibly Karst, say goodbye to the other men and start his life over again. He wanted it so badly, he could taste it. It and the prospect of pickled herring and salmon roe, of dill potatoes and cloud berries, of all the things he had missed.
He couldn’t wait to introduce it all to Cherine. She was growing thinner during the voyage, struck with bad seasickness, unable to eat anything except bread and collected rainwater. She stayed down in the small cargo hold for most of the journey, and though the men never expected her to actually do her part in rowing, she would for a few hours every day. She wanted to prove her worth and be taken seriously, as someone more than a lady.