Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

The ground disappeared beneath him. Eldberg grasped frantically at the crumbling earth, oblivious to all else but the need to stop his descent. He was sliding over the steep gradient of the upper clifftop toward where the rock face became a sheer drop. From there, all hope would be lost. No one could survive such a fall.

He scrabbled, clutching at protrusions of rock, scraping the skin from his hands. A tuft of coarse grass came within his reach, but he was tumbling too fast, and it slipped through his fingers.

Odin preserve me!

The next moment, his breath was punched from his body as a great force thumped him squarely in the testicles! The pain removed all capacity for thought, but whatever obstacle this was, it had at least brought him to a standstill.

Eldberg rested his forehead against the rock. Now was not a time for self-pity, nor could he afford to let fear cloud his mind. Slowly, he reached out with either hand, hooking his fingers into the rock. The world spun, but he ventured a glimpse downward.

If ‘twas one of the gods who'd answered his prayer, it was surely Loki, for who else but the trickster of Asgard would have thought to save Eldberg's skin by ramming a tree root into his soft parts. Or perhaps ‘twas Freyja, taking her revenge upon his manhood for his selfish intentions toward the women of this place.

Eldberg swallowed back a few choice oaths. It wouldn't do to tempt the fates, or any of the gods, and have the thing supporting him snap. Tentatively, he prodded inward with his toes, seeking some foothold upon which to shift his weight.

Thankfully, he found a small ledge to the right side and moved his foot flush upon it. The relief was immediate. Nevertheless, the easing of the stabbing pain to his nethers brought with it the blinding reality of his situation. He was perched precariously, balanced between one foot, a few fingernails, and his scrotum. Another arm's length and he'd have missed this root altogether and plunged to his death. Were the damn thing to give way, that outcome was still at hand.

Could he climb to safety?

One glance confirmed what he suspected—the landslide had taken a large portion of the ground where he'd been standing, sending soft earth and rock into a loose cascade. If he tried to scramble upward, the scree would likely shift again. As a last resort, he could attempt it, but he didn't rate his chances.

It was some consolation, he supposed, that he'd had the good sense to leave Skálavík in the charge of his second, Thoryn—an honorable man, dedicated to his young family and to seeing the town thrive.

Eldberg pushed his fingers deeper into their holds. He wasn't ready to give up yet. If he wanted to get out of this alive, there was only one solution—to call for help. It was not something Eldberg was accustomed to doing, but what choice did he have?

"J?rgen!" The cry sounded feeble to his ears. Was he afraid now even to take a breath with which to shout? He swallowed, wetting his mouth, then tried again. "Rutger!"

He angled back his head, hoping it would help his voice to carry. Thrice more he called, pausing each time to listen for a response.

None came.

How far away were his men?

They'd come looking for him eventually, wouldn't they? But how long might that take? Could he remain as he was? Eldberg was aware of the sun beating upon his neck, and of how thirsty he was. His vision blurred.

None of that! Stay alert! Someone could be passing above at this moment, but they won't know you're here unless you keep shouting.

A gull swooped close, almost batting him with its wing, then spun round for a second fly-past, clearly unhappy at Eldberg intruding on its domain. With a raucous caw, it offloaded its bowels, leaving a smear of white down the cliff face.

Eldberg sent a barrage of foul language its way. That really would top it all, to have that execrable bird land on his head. No doubt, it would cock its tail again and shit on him into the bargain.

He gave a gulping laugh. Yes! Eldberg, Jarl of Skálavík—who'd sent his adversaries running at the mere sight of his war paint, who'd been half-burned to death, pierced by an arrow shot by his former lover, then survived a shipwreck—finished off by a stinking sea bird.

Fuck that!

Was this how it was to end? Not at the point of an enemy's sword or in the swipe of an axe, nor even to the tempest of the sea—but by his own foolishness, failing to heed the warning Hedda had given him.

Hedda!

Was she there still, upon the sands? Did she see him? He ventured to twist his head, hoping to glimpse her below, but the movement only dizzied him.

"Hedda!" He called for her, but this time, his throat refused to obey his command. The name of the woman he loved emerged as a hoarse whisper.

My Hedda! If only we'd had more time!

Sucking in a great gulp, he closed his eyes. There would be no Valhalla for him. Instead, he'd be consigned to the realm of Loki's daughter, Hel, to wander forevermore, carrying the burden of his remorse.

I should have told her. Now, she'll never know. The last thing she heard was my intent that she become my thrall. No matter that I would have given her everything she wished, that I would have cared for her as the most treasured possession.

But not as your wife?

Eldberg pressed tight his lashes against the wetness there.

I am the one not worthy to call her so.

Racing to the base of the cliffs, Hedda beseeched Freyja fervently.

Please, give him the strength to hold on!

The gods had already intervened, somehow catching him before he fell to the sands below. There must be some ledge upon which he was balanced, but the soft rock of the cliffs was fickle. Who knew how long it would support him?

She shouted up, but the direction of the wind must have carried away her voice for he didn't reply.

Running as she never had before, Hedda returned to the longhouse. The sealskin with which she'd bound Eldberg would now serve to save him. Fortunately, there was a store of them, cut in long ribbons, and several were already knotted tightly, having last been used to haul fallen branches down the hillside.

Picking up the sack, she set off again. Some of the women called out as she hastened past but there was no time to waste in explanations or in attempting persuasion of others to help her.

She paused only upon reaching where the men were working. Gasping from her exertion, she beckoned the two over, motioning for them to follow her up the slope.

It didn't take long to arrive at the place where she'd left Eldberg, but her sense was that he'd walked farther upward. Still struggling to regain her breath, she directed one of the men to call out.

"Wait each time, and we'll listen." She clutched the cramp in her side. "He's here somewhere."

All the while they made their way upward, Hedda scanned the cliff edge, searching for signs of disturbance of the earth. She saw what she was hunting for just as they heard the faint call in reply to Rutger's. Tossing down the bag of skins, she drew out two and demonstrated how to knot them tightly.

"Quickly now, add as many as you can to this long piece, and keep back. I'm going to look."

Hedda dropped down onto her stomach, wriggling forward to where the cliff dropped away. She hoped the ground would hold, not just for herself but for what must come next. Peering over, she scoured the rough slope.

There he was!

"Eldberg!" Her heart leapt as he turned his face upward. "We're here. Just keep still."

From behind her, J?rgen hurled the knotted sealskins, the end of which he'd looped about his waist. Rutger placed himself in front, grasping the makeshift rope.

Hedda slung the length over. Thank the gods, there was sufficient not only to reach down but for Eldberg to secure the sealskin about his own torso. It would make hoisting him up all the easier.

"Tie it tight," Hedda called down again. "Beneath your arms."

Eldberg offered up a grim smile before removing one hand from its grip upon the rock.

Hedda could hardly bring herself to watch when at any moment, he might slip. However, she soon heard him send back a shout of readiness.

"Raise your legs as if to walk up and keep fast upon the rope. No matter what happens, don't let go!" Regardless of how much she wished to stay there, hanging over the edge to encourage him, it wasn't safe to remain so close. Having crawled back, Hedda joined the men, positioning herself afore Rutger.

"We pull on each count of three!" Digging in her heels, she strained to add her strength to their effort. Behind her, the men grunted, heaving with all their might. Hand over hand, they made progress, and at last, Eldberg's arm appeared and next, his leg. With one last haul, his body dragged over. Groaning, he lay there.

Hedda wished to run to him but knew she must control herself.

"Eldberg, crawl toward me. 'Tis not safe where you are."

"Am barely back on solid ground and you're giving me orders, wench." Lifting his head, he squinted over at her. Though his face was entirely covered in dirt, she detected a mocking curve to his lips. "I see you summoned two of my men to do your bidding while you were at it."

"We've not gone to the trouble of saving you only to have you tumble off the cliff again." Hedda clasped her hands together. "Please, I beg of you, do as you're told and get yourself over here."

"Well, if you're begging, ‘tis a different matter." Eldberg definitely smiled.

"Urgh! You're impossible!" Hedda rolled her eyes but was much relieved to see Eldberg do as she asked.

No sooner was he safely close than Rutger and J?rgen lifted him to his feet. One thrust a water flask into his hand while the other untied the trailing rope.

"Leave him be. He might be injured." Hedda tutted as the men wrapped their jarl in rough bear hugs.

"I may be a little battered, but I'm fit for anything you care to throw at me. Come see for yourself." Detaching from those manly embraces, Eldberg directed his companions to leave them.

Scratched and bruised he might be, but even in that state, she was aware of how magnificent he was. The tunic he wore was torn, revealing the fire-puckered flesh and the dark tattoos covering his chest. His wild, coppered hair had come loose from some of its braids, and the old cut upon his brow had opened. Nevertheless, he carried himself as the deadly warrior he was, forbidding not only in his size and his hard-muscled physique but in the steeliness of his gaze.

He was stronger than any man she'd known, but regardless of his looks, he was not invincible.

Going to him, she punched him softly in the stomach. "That's for not heeding me and nigh getting yourself killed."

"First, you come to my aid, and now you do battle with me." Eldberg made a show of rubbing at the spot where she'd chastised him. "I thought you cared not whether I fell from this blasted cliff."

Hedda pursed her lips. "It would be an inconvenience. For better or ill, the island has need of you."

"And is it for the island alone that you speak, or for yourself?" Eldberg arched his brow in the way she found most infuriating.

"For the island, naturally!" She glared back. "And a little for myself. I'm accustomed to the warmth of you in my bed, though you have an odious habit of breathing upon my neck all the night through and wrapping your arms far too tightly about my person!"

"‘Tis as it ever was, my sweet Hedda. You cannot decide whether to love or hate me." Eldberg's mouth curled in a smile.

"You need a woman to ensure you come to no harm." Hedda folded her arms. "Call it love, if you will."

Eldberg drew her to him. "I do call it love, and I'm a fool for not saying it sooner." He pushed back the hair from her cheek and lifted her chin. "‘Twould make me the happiest of men if you were to look after me, as you say I need, but there is a condition, fair Hedda, if such an arrangement is to work."

"Oh?" Hedda rested her palms against his chest, as if to push him away, though she placed not the least bit of strength behind the gesture. In truth, her heart was pounding.

"Aye." Eldberg rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. "You must let me protect you in return. Let me be the man you want and need."

"Fine sentiments, though I can assure you I don't require protecting." Hedda could not entirely set aside her independence, however seductive Eldberg's words.

"That's as may be." His mouth was so close, it almost brushed hers. "But you wouldn't be so cruel as to deny me the pleasure of cosseting you?"

"I suppose we could agree to look out for one another." Standing on tiptoe, she offered up her lips to which he immediately responded while his arms took firmer possession about her waist.

His mouth was, by turns, soft and persuasive, then forceful, his tongue slick and silken. He was alive, and so was she—and it made no sense to keep fighting. She slipped her arms about his back, wanting exactly what he was giving her. She'd take his loving in whatever form he could yield it, for as long as they were together.

When he at last broke off, he searched her eyes.

"I've felt myself to be a lone rock, standing against the buffeting waves, but that isn't the life I wish to lead. I want you, Hedda. I want to revel in the joy of having you by my side, to know I'm no longer alone. Neither of us can know what the future will bring, but I'll do all in my power to make the days that come happy for you. I ask only for you to be patient with me and to care for me, if you can."

Hedda knew it didn't come easily to him to share how he felt. The same was true for her, but she wanted to do better. As long as she loved him, Eldberg would always have the power to hurt her, but she couldn't let that hold her back from exploring what was growing between them.

If she failed to let him into her heart, she'd lose out on the very thing that had begun making the days worth living.

"I do care," she said at last. "But I can't help being afraid. You were right. My husband was alive when he departed this place. Ours was not an easy marriage, for he was never meant for me. Being promised to my sister Branka, our betrothal only came about when she died. I know Einar was disappointed in having settled for me in her stead. There was naught I could do to change that, though I tried to win his love."

She'd never thought to share the full extent of her shame—being bound to a man from whom she'd inspired neither affection nor loyalty. However, she needed Eldberg to understand.

"I cannot be hurt like that again."

"I shall never leave you." He pulled her tight against him. "If that means making my life here on this island, I shall do so, though I cannot speak for my men. Skálavík is theirs, and I'll do whatever I can to help them return. Perhaps you'll decide it's what you want for yourself, but I shan't press you to give an answer."

Hedda laid her cheek on Eldberg's chest. If he spoke truly, he would be making the greatest sacrifice. Skálavík was the only real home he'd known, and he was respected there. All this he'd give up for her? The proof of it would come as the months passed, but she wanted to believe.

A sudden, fearful thought occurred to her. These promises he was making—would they come to nothing when he realized she was likely barren? All men desired sons; he'd said so himself.

"Eldberg, you must know, in all the years I was married to Einar, never once did I miss my monthly bleed. No babe ever grew, not even for a short time. It was part of the reason, I think, why he…"

"Oh, sweet, Hedda." Eldberg cradled her head, making her look up at him again. "Perhaps it will be different this time for there is no part of me that does not worship you, and such lovemaking as I intend to give you will surely inspire the gods to bless our union. But whatever the outcome, we'll be content… as long as we have each other. I love you, and I shall say it every morn and night for all my days."

"You really do?" Hedda wished her nose would stop running. Eldberg was saying such wonderful things. It would be nice not to be snuffling like a wet-snouted sow.

Eldberg rubbed his thumb across her tears. "I vow to show you love such as you've ne'er experienced before, and to encourage you in all your pursuits… however ‘unwomanly.' I'll even sharpen that knife of yours whenever its blade requires, as long as you promise not to threaten my private parts with it again."

Hedda could not help smiling.

"I'll stand by your side in all weathers and seasons, and I'll hold your hand through all that comes. Just tell me that it's what you want, and none shall ever divide us." Eldberg's eyes pleaded for him, and in her heart, Hedda knew he spoke truly.

She felt only warm inside—a comforting glow that suffused from her belly through her chest and out to each limb, making even her toes and fingers tingle with happiness.

"I want all those same things."

"You love me, wench?" Eldberg lifted her in his arms and brought his mouth close to her ear. There he nuzzled, making her shiver and laugh with his teasing growls and rough-bearded kisses.

"Yes, I love thee, loathsome beast!"

She gave a screech as he tossed her high and caught her again.

When he laid her down in the grass, she said it over and again, with many a sigh and even a little more of her sobbing and weeping—but those tears were purely of contentment and delight.

As Eldberg claimed her with his body and his heart, she had no more fear. Freyja had sent a man who was for her alone, and he was all she wished him to be.