Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

The seventeenth day of the men's sojourn on the island

Up on the hillside, Eldberg wiped the sweat from his brow. He, J?rgen, and Rutger had been working since they'd broken their fast. They'd toiled with their hands and the limited tools on the island to create a runnel to carry fresh water straight to the village. The aim was to eliminate the daily need to carry the water, the idea causing general excitement among the women.

They'd begun the project some days ago. Though Hedda—joined by a rather formidable-looking woman—had guarded them closely at first, they were now left largely to work unsupervised. The women had better ways to fill their time than standing idly, and the consensus seemed to be that the three of them posed little threat. Alone, they were not capable of seizing control, nor was there any place to effectively escape to.

For the moment, the destiny of Eldberg and his men was tied utterly to that of the women, and it served them better to appear amenable. His plan was taking shape, thanks to their show of compliance and cooperation. He hoped to persuade some of those women to sail and row with them when the time came for the men's escape.

"Have you seen Rangvald or Viggo?" Elberg shielded his eyes from the sun, now high in the blue sky.

"Only briefly." J?rgen blew out a breath. "They still have some way to recover, but I believe their women are caring for them."

Their women?

Eldberg tensed. Time with Hedda had been easier to enjoy since she'd consented to his cock, and he'd gladly take her as his bed-thrall, but he was wary of allowing a true bond to forge between them.

He turned to Rutger. "And does Gunnar's ankle improve?"

Eldberg had been granted a visit to the three absent men only once, despite the new freedoms being offered. Rangvald and Viggo had sustained the worst injuries, although he was inclined to agree with J?rgen. The women caring for his men seemed devoted to the task.

"Gunnar will be fine." From the leather pouch tucked beneath his left arm, Rutger drew out the stopper, then took a deep swig of water. "He'll be fighting fit in good time."

Eldberg nodded his thanks as the pouch was passed over. He hoped Rutger's optimism was well-founded. It seemed he was the only one among his men to have endured prolonged restraint. Hedda, of all the women, had harbored the greatest distrust. Even now, he was unsure how far she believed his professions of amity.

Making the women believe the men wished to help the community was a stroke of genius. They'd been far gentler in manner since he, J?rgen, and Rutger had suggested cutting down trees to engineer the water channel. Little did they know Eldberg had secreted away timber for his own purposes.

Hedda's softening toward him had made his plans possible, and the bedsports they enjoyed were welcome. However, the need to rebuild his ship and return home outweighed all other considerations. Any guilt he felt at deceiving Hedda was tempered by his loyalty to his men. Moreover, with Viggo and the others out of action, he needed to play the long game.

"The runnel looks sound." Rutger surveyed their work with an approving nod. "It shall greatly improve life in the village."

"I don't know why they didn't think of it before." J?rgen took the pouch from Eldberg, satisfying his own thirst.

"‘Tis the fault of their errant menfolk, who should have taken the initiative in building something of the kind." Eldberg shrugged. "What the curs did all day, I can't fathom for they seemed to have left their women to a greater share of the labor than is reasonable. The women work hard, but they cannot thrive as they are. They need men!"

"True." Rutger smiled. "Just as we need women."

"There are certainly some benefits." Eldberg gave a returning smirk.

The last few days had been constructive, and he was not thinking only of their handiwork on the hillside. Since Hedda had yielded to his palm, she'd become an enthusiastic bed partner, their unions as satisfying as they were energetic.

Eldberg had missed the sultry touch of a woman and the way a soft body melded to his. He'd grown fond of the wench whose furs he shared, and back in Skálavík, she'd make an attentive servant to his needs. Deeper affection was neither desirable nor necessary. He needed to keep his mind on what was important—protecting his men and ensuring their escape. Feigning friendship with the women was a small concession to gain his goal.

"Astrid is a fine woman." J?rgen sounded thoughtful. "I'm thankful to the gods for the unexpected gift of her company."

"Let's talk not of our hosts." Eldberg couldn't help his irritation. The fact that closer alliances were forming was troubling. He needed men with clear heads if they were to return home. However comfortable they might become, the fact could not be denied—they were trapped on the island at the behest of a group of women.

"Rutger." Elberg beckoned his man forward. "Tell me of your progress."

Rutger was an able carpenter. With his left hand still healing, his aid in felling trees had been limited, but he'd been able to help with the engineering of the runnel system. More importantly, back in his hut, he'd persuaded his female guardian, Grethe, to permit him occupation with simple wood carving tasks. Little did she realize that he'd been fashioning an oar for their eventual getaway.

Though they were alone, Rutger kept his tone hushed. "Grethe has no suspicion, let alone that this is the second oar I'm working on." Mischief flickered in his eyes. "She believes I'm still floundering with the original length of wood."

Eldberg gripped Rutger's shoulder approvingly. "And you've stashed the first where we discussed?" He glanced in the direction of the thicket of trees the two had agreed upon. The grove was overgrown, and Eldberg had noticed how rarely any of the women ventured there.

"Aye." Rutger's expression was serious. "As each oar is complete, I shall venture out by cover of night."

Eldberg's jaw tensed. "You must be sure not to be observed."

"I shall take every care," Rutger replied. "But still, I worry what we seek to hide shall be discovered—not just the oars but, ultimately, our mast."

"We've ways of keeping the women occupied." Eldberg gave a wry laugh. "They'll be too weary from our cocks to worry about what's lurking in the thicket."

"You do them a disservice." Rutger's brow knitted. "Those I've met are sharp and capable."

"That may be true, but we'll find ways to redirect their attention." Eldberg was sure of it, but Rutger's sigh concerned him. "What is this, Rutger? Do you have objections?"

None of the men had overtly disapproved of Eldberg's thinking, but he knew them well enough to sense their dissatisfaction. Rutger was definitely reticent.

"I don't enjoy deceiving Grethe. The trickery makes me uncomfortable."

"You're a good man." Eldberg nodded. "I seek only to hasten our departure. This isle was never our destination."

"Yet here we are." Rutger gazed around. "I can't help but think this place is part of a bigger plan for us."

Eldberg waived away that thought. He was as devoted to the gods as the next man, but he believed a man's actions shaped his destiny. Whatever was ordained from beyond the Earthly realm, a stout heart had the power to overthrow Fate. A storm had swept them to the women's shore, and it would be their hard work and resolve that saw them free of it.

"J?rgen!" Eldberg called him to his side. "This woman of yours has a small boat. Think you she has cloth that might be adapted to fit our mast?"

"You mean to steal from her?" J?rgen frowned.

"When the time comes, yes," Eldberg spoke firmly. What had happened to his men that, suddenly, J?rgen and Rutger seemed hesitant to do what must be done? "You know well enough we cannot travel the distance to Skálavík by oars alone."

J?rgen's expression conveyed how little he wished to fulfill the task, but Eldberg knew his men. If their jarl instructed them, they would follow his command.

"Once we have everything needed, it will take only a few nights of work, under cover of darkness, to fit the mast and oars to the boat." Eldberg went on. "Then, we can take what we covet from this place and feel the waves beneath us!"

"Aye." J?rgen nodded, his small smile revealing his desire for the latter part of the plan at least. "I've missed my homestead. ‘Twill not be long until harvest, and I've a yearning to see it."

"We've all missed Skálavík." Eldberg hadn't realized how much until the risk of not returning became a reality.

"Eldberg!"

He spun at the sound of his name to see Hedda heading up the slope.

"Here comes your woman." Rutger's gaze traveled knowingly between his jarl and the fair-haired woman marching toward them, as if anticipating the reason for her appearance.

Eldberg smiled to himself. If she sought a ride upon his loins, he could be persuaded—especially if they were to visit one of the pools upon the hillside.

"I must speak with you." Slightly breathless with her cheeks flushed, Hedda stood before him. There was a radiance to her these past days that reminded him of how his Bretta had looked when she was at her most contented.

He pushed the comparison aside. Hedda's glow came purely from the bed-pleasures he'd given her. That he found her more bewitching with each day that passed spoke to his weakness for a fine woman. 'Twas a foible he knew to guard against, lest the wench discover his fondness for her and twist it to her advantage.

"All is well?"

She looked back with soft eyes. Taking his arm, she guided him away. "Come. There is much to discuss."

Despite her initial animosity, it was plain that Hedda was beginning to trust him.

And here am I, plotting to steal from her land and depart her isle. When the time comes, I only hope she'll come to forgive me…