22. Cherine

Chapter 22

Cherine

O ur party had ridden for twelve hours straight, all the way until the next day, when we finally had to stop. We chose an empty barn for shelter and much-needed sleep while our horses rested, their bodies steaming into the damp air. There was no snow where we were now, closer to the coast, but the air was sharp, and winter was definitely still on its way.

Because of the long ride, we all collapsed into a pile of mildewed hay, covering ourselves with the animal skins and blankets before falling into a deep sleep.

My sleep was restless. I dreamt of Erik’s face being slashed open, of hands on me, of heads flying off. When I awoke late the next morning, I wasn’t surprised to see Erik up as well. He was perched on the edge of a hay bale, blankets wrapped around his broad shoulders, staring out at the grey meadow and the grazing horses before him.

In profile, he looked like a Nordic king until he turned, catching my eye as I sat on the ground beside him. The slash down the other side of his face was ugly, though it looked like his eye would be all right in the end. It would probably heal ugly too, with the lack of treatment they had for it, but I still thought he could be the most beautiful man in the world.

Something had happened to Erik back at the manor. I wasn’t sure if it was the indulgence of violence as he took on all those men, or if it was something else, but he was quiet, even for him, and when I thought he’d be happy about escaping his old life, he only seemed torn up inside.

He had saved me. I could only hope I could save him.

When Knut had carried me out of the manor that night and plopped me onto the cart, I immediately knew what was happening. He didn’t need to explain the boxes of jewels and gold, the crates of food, or the copious amount of blankets, animal skins, and clothing. Knut had said we were going home, and it looked like they’d been planning it for quite some time.

To be honest, I had felt stung Erik was planning such a thing and hadn’t told me. I wondered if he would have just left in the night, leaving me with Rolf, never to see me again. But as much as it hurt, I was glad he was doing something to escape a life that had grown too barbaric for a big-hearted man like him.

I looked over at Knut and Karst, who were snoring lightly in the hay.

“Should we wake them up soon?”

Erik was still watching me. “Give them a few more minutes. We still have a long ride to Criolium. And then… Well, then, it gets worse.”

“How are your wounds?”

He winced as he pulled back his shirt to show me his shoulder. I was surprised to see it was wrapped in layers of muslin, and I wondered if Erik had gotten any sleep at all.

“As long as I keep pouring the alcohol on it, it should be fine. Did you know, in Norway, we have a drink made out of dill? It’s called akevitt. It cures anything.”

I smiled and leaned forward on my knees. “Tell me more about Norway.”

His eyes lit up, shining brighter than the grey sky outside as he began to tell me about the craggy mountains, deep fjords, and his mother’s famous potato pancakes. I could see how much he needed to go home, how much he loved it. And now, if everything went as planned and we survived the journey across the North Sea, it would be my home too.

Though I could have listened to Erik wax on about our new home, it didn’t take long for Knut and Karst to wake, and the four of us were off again, riding for several more hours through fog and drizzling rain. On the way, Erik had told me the weather would be much worse once we were at sea, that there was no place for us to sleep below deck except for the small cargo hold. He said I could sleep there while everyone else stayed up top, and as long as I pulled my weight by rowing for a few hours each day, the other men wouldn’t mind.

That was part of the problem too: the other men. There were only four of us, and we needed more to do a proper rowing job. Erik’s plan was to lie to the men stationed there and tell them Rolf was sending us back home, that they weren’t needed anymore. He hoped they wouldn’t question him, but since Erik had been Rolf’s second in command all these years, they’d probably accept whatever he told them. Then, with a near proper crew, we could arrive home quickly and be back to start our new lives.

When we finally rode into Criolium at dusk, I was tired and on edge. Being back in my village was about to take its toll on me, and the moment I saw the spire of the thatched roof church poke above the trees, I couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down my face. No matter how far I’d gotten, no matter what new life I had learned to take on, being home again hurt.

We pulled our horses to a walk, and Erik reached across for me, taking my hand in his. I hadn’t had much affection from him during the escape, and his touch almost created more tears.

“Are you all right?” he whispered, not wanting Knut and Karst up ahead to hear.

I shook my head and sniffed, glad he was trying to comfort me in secret. I didn’t want to appear weak in front of the others, even though they’d already seen me at my weakest.

“I didn’t think returning would be so hard,” I said, squeezing his hand and looking at each familiar landmark as we pressed closer into town. The smell of the ocean caused the back of my throat to thicken.

“Well, it’s your family. Of course, this won’t be easy.”

“No, that’s the thing,” I admitted with an anguished sigh. “They weren’t really my family. I never really loved them and they never really loved me. I never expected to feel anything when they died.”

There it was, the feeling I’d been trying to suffocate for the last month. The guilt in never grieving properly. The surprise to find I cared at all.

“I’m sorry for that. If I could take it back, Cherine…”

I took one hard look at his face and remembered it was in fact the Vikings who were responsible for my family’s death. Erik had certainly taken lives that day, maybe even the lives of Marc or Pierre. He had been a killer, a plunderer. And now, he was my lover. He did all of this and yet saved me at the same time. He had taken everything I ever had, and in the end, he loved me.

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.”