24. Cherine

Chapter 24

Cherine

I t was April when the snow first began to thaw. I had grown fond of the pure, white landscape outside our hearth-warmed home, but the sight of the first green shoots of grass stirred something deep within me. Soon, the days would be longer, brighter.

Not that I needed much brightness in my life. I was about four months pregnant and glowing every single day. Trude fussed over me endlessly, her no-nonsense manner softening only in moments of true care. She lectured me on eating habits, concocted juices I should drink, and always seemed to have something to keep me busy. I knew it came from love, and I was grateful for it, especially now that I was Erik’s wife.

We had gotten married soon after we learned of the pregnancy. Back in France, I would have been ostracized for such a thing, but here, in Norway, where they still believed in their pagan gods, it wasn’t looked down on as much. The people of M?re weren’t heathens, but they were not as fanatic in their faith as Rolf and many of the Vikings. Erik’s more experimental views on religion were shared by some, though they seemed to make others uneasy.

But for me, it didn’t matter. I had never been happier. I had no idea it was even possible to feel this way. Sure, the morning sickness was awful, and learning the language felt impossible at times, but the Norwegian town had embraced me in ways I hadn’t expected. They were strong, helpful people, not the savages I once imagined. The true barbarians, I realized, were the ones who had left the land behind.

The food here was remarkable too. Even in the dead of winter, there was fresh fish from the cold seas, with dense root vegetables that tasted better than anything I had back in France. Trude was a skilled baker, and I had learned to make Erik’s favorite potato pancakes and rye bread. I even developed a taste for the strong caraway-seed akevitt, which Trude insisted would chase away the pregnancy blues.

Erik was everything I had hoped he would be—strong, loving, and dedicated. His sexual appetite remained as voracious as mine, though living with his mother made it challenging when it came to privacy. Nightly visits in the garden, hidden beneath fur blankets, became our refuge. We no longer worried about prying eyes, and every night together made our bond deeper. Even pregnancy didn’t slow our affections for each other. Erik’s pride in our family grew with the curve of my belly.

But even in the bliss of our new life, I could still see the shadow of the past in Erik. He sometimes sat awake late at night, staring out at the harbor or the mountains. I wondered if it was the memory of Rolf that kept him awake, or something else entirely. I had never spoken to him about what happened at the manor, afraid it would reopen old wounds, but the nagging fear lingered. Had Rolf been killed? Or was he still out there, waiting for his chance at revenge?

Then, one night, the someone Erik feared appeared.

We had taken to walking in the evenings, mostly for my sake, to help me sleep. Our strolls usually took us down to the docks and back, and tonight was no different. The weather was slowly warming, but the night air was still chilled as it swept in off the fjord, the moon bright enough to illuminate the entire landscape.

Erik, always prepared, carried his sword and dagger, even though there was no apparent danger in M?re. I had once pointed out that there was no need for such weapons, but Erik told me it made him feel like he could protect me and the life growing inside me. The sword he carried was the same one he had found back in Criolium—the one that had brought him to me in the first place. Perhaps it was a reminder of the luck it carried.

We spent a peaceful few minutes gazing out at the dark sea, Erik rubbing my back as it began to ache from carrying the baby. Every now and then, he would pause, as though listening for something, but then he’d quickly resume his comforting movements. I thought nothing was wrong.

When I grew too cold, we turned to head back. We were almost at the house when I heard it—a laugh, high, familiar, haunting.

From behind a tree stepped a tall, wiry man with curly blond hair and only one eye. His remaining eye glinted wildly in the moonlight, and my heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be, but there he was—Ross.

Before Erik could react, before he even had time to draw his sword, Ross was on him. With a crazed cry, he lunged forward, stabbing Erik in the chest with his sword. The sound of the blade sinking into flesh was sickening, and I screamed in horror as Erik fell to his knees, his hands clutching at the wound.

“Erik!” I shrieked, but Ross didn’t stop. He twisted the blade in Erik’s chest, pulling back to strike again.

I had no time to think as my body moved on pure instinct. Grabbing the sword from Erik’s side, I thrust it upward, my hands shaking with adrenaline. The blade caught Ross right through the throat, cutting off his vicious laugh as blood sprayed out in a hot torrent. His body crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap.

I dropped the sword and rushed to Erik’s side, where he was slumped over, his hand pressed desperately against his chest. His face was pale, his breath coming in shallow, gasping breaths. I had to keep him alive. I couldn’t lose him—not now, not when we had just started building a future together.

“Erik!” I cried, my voice breaking. My hands hovered over his wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but I could feel his life slipping away. He was fading fast.

“Please don’t die on me, Erik,” I begged. I pressed my hands down harder, but his blood kept spilling out. The panic in my chest grew with every second. “You can’t leave me, not now. We have a child, Erik. Please, you have to stay with us.”

Erik’s head lolled to the side, his lips dry, his eyes barely open. He coughed weakly, blood flecking his mouth. I could hear the approach of townsfolk, their footsteps hurried and filled with concern, but it was too late. The wound was too deep. He would die if I didn’t do something fast.

I leaned over him, brushing the hair from his forehead, my heart shattering in my chest. “Please, Erik, don’t leave me.” I kissed his hand, holding it to my lips, squeezing it as tightly as I could. “You have to stay with me. You promised, Erik. We promised each other.”

His lips barely parted, and his voice was strained. “Cherine…tu es…mon Valhalla.”

I gasped as his words struck my heart. He had found peace, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him go. Not like this.

“I will never leave you,” he whispered. The words were faint, but they still rang true. With one final, trembling breath, he squeezed my hand.

He seemed to slip away, and the world crumbled beneath me. His body relaxed in my arms, his warmth fading. I closed my eyes, feeling the full weight of my grief.

No, no, no.

But then, there was a sudden, shuddering breath.

I opened my eyes, and Erik gasped, his chest rising with a deep intake of air. His lips parted, and a weak smile stretched across his face.

“Erik!” I cried, tears spilling down my cheeks as I clung to him.

“Cherine,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking with emotion. His hand, which had gone limp in mine, now tightened, holding on to me with all his strength. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The sound of Trude and the villagers approaching was a distant hum in the background. They helped us back to our home, ensuring Erik received the care he needed to heal. His wound was deep, but the healers were hopeful, thanking the gods the blade had missed his heart. They said he would recover, but it would take time.

We spent the next few weeks in quiet peace, surrounded by the love of our family and the villagers who had embraced us. And though we had faced so much darkness, we had emerged from it stronger, together.

And now, a new chapter had begun, one filled with love, with hope, and with the promise of a future we would build side by side. I knew there would be more challenges, but for the first time, I wasn’t afraid. I had Erik by my side, and together, we could face anything.

And with the baby on the way, our family would only grow stronger.

The nightmare of the past had come for us, but we fought.

We survived.

And now, finally, we were free.