Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

The fortieth day of the men’s sojourn on the island

“Elin and I will wait outside.” Signy seemed to hesitate before touching his shoulder. “Call to me if either of you need… anything.”

Viggo made no response. ‘Twas bad enough submitting to Elin’s inspections, which did nothing but confirm what he’d already accepted. Worse by far having an audience while he suffered the indignity.

And Rangvald, of all people!

As if having that cur leer over him would make him feel better about any of this. The women had surely connived to bring him here, for he couldn’t imagine Rangvald having come of his own volition.

The gods had left him struggling alone in the dark. Now, they sent foes to goad and torment him.

As Rangvald settled on the stool opposite his own, Viggo caught scent of him—pungent and earthy, as if straight from a shared bed, though there was a sweeter note overlaying the masculine tang. Viggo’s nose was sharper these days, and he knew that fragrance; ‘twas the same milk-and-honey soap Signy used for their bathing.

It irritated him, though ‘twas an idle thought. Signy made the soap in batches and traded it with every household. He’d detected the same when Rutger had called upon him and Eldberg.

“So, this is what you’re reduced to! Blind and useless.” Rangvald’s tone was mocking.

Of course, Rangvald knew of his impairment. He wouldn’t have needed to witness Elin’s assessment. Doubtless, Eldberg had shared news of his plight, jibed about it, perhaps. ‘Twas likely why Rangvald had come in the first place.

“Why are you here?” Viggo was determined to keep his voice even. He’d still some pride. Rangvald wouldn’t have the satisfaction of thinking he could rile him.

“I had to see you for myself.” Rangvald sneered. “Had to see how low you’ve fallen. Still, I struggle to believe what my eyes tell me.”

“Just. Go.” Viggo had endured enough. Rangvald’s mocking references to his lack of vision were not to be borne.

“In good time.” Rangvald made no effort to conceal his glee. “Eldberg says you have a woman, but how can that be? Who’d want you in this state?”

Viggo itched to leap forward and place his hands about Rangvald’s throat. He didn’t need eyes for that—to choke the breath out of the churl.

“The poor wench,” Rangvald went on. “Running around, tending to your needs, and getting little in return. You may as well be dead.”

“You know nothing of it.” It mattered not that Viggo had oft told himself the same, nor that Signy was possibly in earshot. Rangvald had no right to judge. No right to an opinion on what passed between him and Signy.

“I know the women here have struck some deal with one another.” Rangvald’s voice lowered. “I know they’re keeping secrets and that they can’t be trusted.”

“What secrets?” Viggo knew Rangvald was baiting him, but he’d long sensed that Signy was hiding something. If Rangvald knew anything, he wanted to hear it.

“Ask your wench.” Rangvald chuckled. “If you’ve managed to master her, she should yield to your query.”

“I’m asking you .” Viggo spat the words. ‘Twas impossible to withhold his anger, having to sit here, listening to such ridicule.

“And I say ask the wench!” Rangvald was so close, Viggo could smell whatever he’d been eating upon his breath. “If you can’t bring her to heel, then she’ll be better off without you. Send her my way. I’d wager she could use a real man! I’m sure our jarl will take her if she fails to please me.”

“Nay! She’ll never be yours!” A roaring filled Viggo’s head.

The thought of Signy with any other man made him want to hurl deep from his stomach, but the notion of Rangvald claiming her or Eldberg…

‘Twas more than he could bear.

Their hands upon her softness, bending her to their will, treating her like some serving thrall, thinking only of their own gratification as they took her roughly!

And what of how you’ve treated her?

The day before, on the hillside, anger had burned through him hot and fast, sweeping away all reason, fueled by hatred for what he’d become.

Caring naught for how I might hurt her.

‘Twas the truth, wasn’t it?

He’d allowed primal lust to rule and a destructive, hateful impulse, wanting to crush any tenderness that might have existed, wanting to possess what he knew could never truly be his.

He told himself he’d never harm Signy, but how close had he come?

I bit her! Hard upon the throat.

How many times? I can’t even remember.

She’d told him to stop, at least at first…

He hadn’t cared about her protests. Overcome by the tumult of passion, he’d known only his body pounding into hers, deep and hard, seeking to obliterate the pain.

And you think Rangvald would be worse?

He’d heard rumors of what Rangvald did with women…

Whispers about Eldberg too—of how he’d treated the woman Elswyth when she’d been his captive two winters past. Of how he’d kept her tied in his chamber for weeks on end, naked and submissive, inflicting humiliation. Little wonder she’d made her escape, though Eldberg had hunted her down and brought her back again.

You’d let Signy suffer the same? Leave her at their mercy?

Once I’m dead, who will there be to prevent it?

The old woman, Bothild? Or the healer, Elin?

Here, perhaps, they’d have some sway, but if Signy was taken from H?y…

Rangvald had spoken of the women having secrets, of them making a deal. Was that with Eldberg himself? His jarl never revealed more than was necessary of his plans. Had he bartered some contract?

Viggo wouldn’t put it past him to offer passage to Skálavík and a life of comfort in return for their help. Of course, knowing his jarl, the deal would be upon his own terms when the time came. He’d take those who would be useful to him.

Women like Signy.

“None of you shall touch her!” Despite his need to believe it, Viggo’s voice quivered.

“I shall do as I please.” Rangvald was defiant. “And you’ll deserve whatever comes if you can’t pull yourself together.”

Pull myself together… as if I might summon my sight by will alone!

Viggo pushed the heel of his hands against his treacherous eyes. “For the love of Odin, leave me be!”

“Gladly.” Rangvald sighed, as though bored. “In your current state, there’s barely amusement in riling you. Good luck, blind man.”

A hand closed over Viggo’s, and Rangvald leaned closer, his breath brushing Viggo’s cheek. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “My woman will soon have my cock in her mouth again, and I’ll relish watching her. A pity you’ll never get to see how your beauty’s lips look, wrapped about a man’s staff; a pleasure for me to savor, perhaps… sooner or later.”

“Faen i helvete!” Viggo snatched his hand away. With the curse sour on his tongue, he lunged for Rangvald but was foiled by the man’s quick reactions.

“Still some fight in you?” Rangvald’s laughter was mocking.

The taunt burned in Viggo’s ears as the cur strode away.

If Rangvald ever gets close again, he’ll taste my fists alright. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.

And yet, every word Rangvald had spoken was true.

Signy did warrant better than him, and Viggo knew it.

She was wasting her time with him.

With my sight, I might be able to provide for her, but like this…

Is there anything I can offer?

And w hat of Rangvald’s threats?

If he tries to take her, can I prevent it?

The thought of her being forced into the bed of another brought a wave of revulsion.

If I’m to lay down my life, better to do so in defense of Signy. I’ll kill any man who mistreats her!

Another voice, equally as steely, nagged at him.

Or simply kill yourself before you endanger her.

Trust in the gods to protect her and all the women of this place. ‘Tis not your destiny to watch over them.

One thing was irrefutable.

Signy deserved a man far better than he.

She deserved better than all of them.

“I’m so glad you came.” Standing outside the hut, Signy clung to Elin. There was much she needed to share, to unburden herself, and to ask for advice.

She ought to turn to her mother, she supposed, but what solace would she find there? Ulva had little patience and even less empathy—at least where Viggo was concerned.

Signy’s head was spinning. There had been no tenderness in her coupling with Viggo the day before. The passion he’d shown had been brutal and frightening, as if he hated both himself and her.

Afterward, guiding him down the hillside, he’d spoken not a word and had scarcely acknowledged her since.

It had been good for him to share more with her of his past and the sorrow he carried in his heart, but with that had come an anger she couldn’t understand.

Would time with Rangvald help—a man who’d surely known Viggo’s brothers and father? From the grim look upon Viggo’s face when his shipmate had arrived, she wasn’t so sure. She’d assumed they must be friends, but ‘twas possible she was mistaken.

Gently, Elin extricated herself from the lengthy embrace, looking slightly perturbed.

Embarrassed, Signy looked away.

I shouldn’t be such a child, looking to others for answers. Elin surely has her own worries.

“How goes it?” Elin seemed to adopt a forced cheerfulness. “Not just for Viggo but for yourself?”

Signy attempted a returning smile.

I can’t tell her the truth. Not without crying, and I don’t want to do that.

“I’m fine, more content than I’ve ever been, though so much is different.” Signy bit at her lip. It wasn’t exactly a lie or, at least, not entirely.

Everything is different, isn’t it… and I wouldn’t wish my life back the way it was.

“Even the bees seem to feel it.” Signy knew she was babbling, but the words tumbled out, regardless. “I was up by the hives, and they were clustered there, as if reluctant to search for pollen farther afield. It’s not like them at all.”

She regretted speaking of it immediately.

The behavior of the bees would mean nothing to Elin.

She hadn’t mentioned the dead and dying bees, in any case. That she knew she must keep to herself until she’d had a chance to consult with her mother. There was no point in alarming Elin, or anyone else, when she didn’t yet know what was happening.

“The bees?” Elin’s brows rose in surprise.

Signy gave herself a little shake. “Pay me no mind. It’s probably of no matter.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Elin continued to look askance at her but returned to her previous question. “And how are you and Viggo getting along?”

“Very well. That is, I’m glad to have his company.” Signy swallowed. She wanted desperately to believe it so, but she couldn’t deny the truth.

She was losing faith.

“‘Tis only that Viggo’s moods can be low. I want to make him believe all will be well, but sometimes, he’s so deep in darkness, he can see naught else.”

Elin frowned and nodded.

“He’s a good person, whatever my mother says,” Signy added quickly.

The last thing she needed was for Elin to believe Viggo was worse than she could see with her own eyes. If Elin had even an inkling that Viggo might hurt her, who knew what would happen? She might tell Bothild or her mother.

Ulva would waste no time in separating them.

‘Twas an irony not lost on Signy—that her mother would be swift to intervene this time. She’d done little enough to protect Signy when her father had been beating her.

“Once a baby is coming, it may stir him to more positive thoughts. He’ll have both me and the child…” Signy faltered.

Stop speaking now! Before you say something you regret!

If Elin gained a hint that Signy might already be pregnant, ‘twould be hard to contain the news, and she couldn’t risk Viggo learning of it. She wasn’t ready to deal with the consequences of how that would play out—that he might hold her to her side of their bargain.

Fortunately, Elin appeared distracted, her gaze straying to where the door was ajar.

Signy strained to listen to the conversation within, but the men’s voices were too low, and her good ear was turned toward the beach and the incoming tide.

Elin’s attention returned, but her expression was troubled.

“Freyja shall surely bless you, and ‘twill be a great solace… one well deserved.”

There was no mistaking that Signy was being dismissed.

As she’d surmised, Elin had other things on her mind.

The next moment, Rangvald appeared at the door. His face was impassive as he joined Elin, though Signy saw him wince as he adjusted his crutch.

Once the two had departed, Signy closed her eyes.

I must be brave and confront Viggo.

I’ve told him of my love, and I know he harbors something of the same, even if he’s too frightened to admit it.

If there’s any hope, he must declare himself.

Only then can I tell him that I may be carrying his child.

Only then can I save him.