Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

T he next day was just as grueling as the previous one had been, and the unseasonably hot weather didn’t help, nor did the lack of opportunities to drink or eat. The men didn’t have time for anything else other than to forge ahead. Personal needs, along with any doubts they might have, had best be forgotten or ignored.

It was exhausting, but it did have one advantage.

Eyja had feared having to answer Moon’s questions or try to justify her decision not to heed his advice about heading back home but they barely talked as they walked side by side. Every breath was precious. In those circumstances, arguing was not only pointless, but also potentially dangerous. By the time the halt was called, Eyja could barely see. When she fell to her knees with a groan she expected Moon to mock her, or at the very least point out that she would not last another day.

But to her surprise, he didn’t pass any comment and just sat down next to her. His anger seemed to have vanished. It was as if he’d walked it out during the day, or come to the conclusion that he had better accept the fact that she was here because he could not change it. She was grateful for it, as the last thing she needed right now was a remonstrance. She lay on the ground motionless a long moment, staring at the darkening sky. In what state would she arrive in York? She didn’t know how to fight, and that was worrying enough, but she was now wondering if she would even have the strength to stand there while the Norsemen charged at her.

Shouldn’t she go back?

No. Not now.

She would push on and pretend she was all right, just like she had always done in times of difficulty.

“I should have taken our gelding.” Moon was eyeing up the group of horses grazing in the distance. Some of the men, including, of course, the king and all his courtiers, were mounted. Unsurprisingly, they were having an easier time than the rest of them. “At least you would have been able to travel in more comfort.”

“I will be just fine,” Eyja said, cheered by the idea that he was worried about her. It was much better than being angry. She should have guessed his anger would not last. Moon had always been reasonable and fair. He often ranted when she joined the boys’ expeditions, but ultimately, he always agreed to let her tag along. That was one of the things she liked best about him, he accepted her for who she was, and never suggested she change. Some of her brothers’ friends were less generous. “And if you’d have brought your horse, you would have ridden him, not me.”

“As if I would have let you gainsay me,” he huffed, confident in his physical superiority. “I would have sat your ass on the horse and that would have been that.”

“You’re forgetting that I can jump! I was never going to just meekly sit there, you know. Or did you plan to tie my legs together at the ankles under his belly? I wouldn’t put it past you, you brute.”

He glowered at her but did not answer. She didn’t insist. It was not worth carrying on this discussion when they were both as stubborn as each other. But she was glad to be able to bicker with him. It was not quite peace, but the kind of teasing they had always enjoyed, and much better than any argument.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” he said once they’d been handed a meager portion of dried meat and bread to eat. It was hardly what she would call tasty but there was little point in complaining or even pointing it out. There would not be anything else.

Chewing on the tough piece of beef, she watched Moon walk toward the left of the camp. Most probably, he was going to see to his needs. This was one of the reasons she was most glad of his presence. He guarded her privacy when she squatted behind a bush, as, of course, she could not do like the other men while on the go, and simply stop by the side of the road to relieve herself. He had made her go as they were slowing down for the night, taking advantage of a clump of trees conveniently situated.

After having been by Moon’s side all day Eyja felt vulnerable without him, like a warrior removing his armor might feel. She ate, doing her best to chew like a man and not meet anyone’s eye.

Soon he was back with an axe in hand.

“What’s that?”

“ That is an axe.” He sat down and placed it next to his own.

“Well. Yes. I can see that.”

He shrugged apologetically. “You asked.”

“I meant... You know very well what I meant!”

“Do I? I’ve never been able to make heads or tails of what goes on in that mind of yours. You did once think it a good idea to include ants in your mother’s pottage, remember? Who else would have thought that a tasty addition? Not your parents or your brothers, if I remember correctly, and I can’t say I blame them.”

He bit into his piece of bread to hide a smirk. Eyja felt her lips quiver. How was he doing this? She was exhausted, hungry, scared, and yet somehow he managed to make her laugh.

“Very well. Where did you find the axe and why is it here?” There, the question could not be clearer. He would have no choice but to answer.

“I told you. You need a proper weapon. This one is for you.”

“Who gave it to you?” Surely whoever had brought it along would not want to face the Norsemen unarmed?

“No one gave it to me. I swapped it for my belt buckle.”

“The one Caedmon made for you?” She was incredulous. The exquisite silver piece had to be worth a dozen axes at the very least, and he had squandered it away on a perfectly ordinary weapon,

Moon only shrugged. “He can make me another when I come back. It’s not going to be of any use to me in battle. But we do need an axe.”

We. That simple word reduced her insides to mush. He was looking after her, providing her with what she needed when she’d thought he would be furious. But it turned out that instead of finding ways to send her back home, he had spent the day plotting a way to get her a proper weapon. She could have cried.

“Who did you get it from?” she asked instead.

“I saw a man laden with blades of all kinds ahead of us while we marched. I went to him, argued that he only had two hands, and could not wield all of them at once, but he might want to have something to sell once the battle was over, to ensure himself a proper celebration. He agreed.”

This didn’t surprise her. Moon could talk anyone into anything when the mood took him. She had once seen him convince a Danish merchant to take a trunk filled with presents on board his ship to be delivered to Eowyn, a Saxon friend of his mother’s who had moved to Denmark after marrying a Dane. Though the trunk was heavy and cumbersome, the man had agreed not only to transport it, but to bring it to Eowyn and her husband Rune’s home. Yes, Moon could get any man to do his bidding. As for women, it was even worse, he didn’t even have to talk. A smile and a wink were usually enough to win them around. She had seen it often enough.

Reassured by the sight of the blade, she lay back down. At least now she was properly armed.

“Oh, and just so we’re clear, I will be carrying the axe while we walk,” he added. “It’s a bit heavy for a...” He stopped before he could say the word “woman” and ruin the new peace between them. Eyja barely repressed a smile, enjoying their restored complicity.

“For a...?” she challenged, curious to see how he would finish that sentence.

“For a youth who hasn’t yet sprouted hair on his chin.”

“Mm. Yes.” Relieved to know she wouldn’t have to carry the cumbersome weapon, she didn’t insist. It was bad enough walking with a dagger in her boot. “Thank you, Moon. I don’t know what to say.”

“Well. That would be a first.” He snorted and then planted his gaze into hers. In the silvery light, he looked unusually earnest. “Don’t say anything then. Just make sure you use it well when the time comes, all right?”

The third morning was much the same as the two previous ones but the crossing of a river proved to be more problematic than the king and his men had anticipated and slowed them down, forcing the men to take a well-earned rest. More and more people were joining them all the time. Thanks to the riders sent ahead, word that they were recruiting was spreading fast and there were lots of volunteers who wanted to fight the invaders.

When they stopped that night, Moon was pleased to see that, thanks to the unplanned rest, Eyja appeared less exhausted than she had the previous two evenings. In truth, he was impressed by her resilience. Where did the girl put her grit and determination? It was no surprise that someone like him should be able to endure the relentless pace, but her? There was nothing of her. Physically, at least. Her mind, however, was forged of the strongest steel. He’d always known she had a strong will but to see it proven so unequivocally was humbling. There seemed to be little merit for a strong man like him to join such an enterprise, but for a woman who’d never wielded a weapon or even slapped someone in her life, it was a daunting prospect to say the least.

And yet here she was, doggedly making her way, ensuring she didn’t fall behind. The only concession she had allowed was to let him carry the axe he’d procured for her. To his surprise, he enjoyed having her by his side even if they didn’t talk much. Today, though, thanks to the delay at the bridge, they had been able to do something other than watch where to put their feet and he had made the most of it to get to know her better.

Usually when she was around—and she nearly always was—he talked to her brothers, not her. She was part of a group but never at the center of it and he did little more than tease her. Now that she was the sole focus of his attention, he discovered an unsuspected side to her. She was easy to be with, had a ready sense of humor and was surprisingly knowledgeable on a variety of subjects, as well as brave and loyal.

Talking to her in Norse amongst people who didn’t understand what they were saying made their connection even more special and he found himself rather... well, entranced by her, a most unexpected development.

After another frugal meal of bread and hard cheese, they lay next to one another, just as they had done the two previous nights. High above, a crescent of moon illuminated the night sky. Against his back, the mossy ground was soft and welcoming. Around them, the exhausted army was falling asleep. In just a few days the whole thing had acquired a kind of regularity that was almost soothing. Odd how one could so quickly adapt to a new reality and find it satisfying. Moon closed his eyes. They were getting closer and closer to their goal, and would need to be at their best to have a chance at survival.

Just as he was about to drop off, he heard Eyja’s voice, soft and dreamy in his ear.

“Moon.”

“Mm?”

“What do you think your parents would call you if you did not have a mark in the shape of a moon on your wrist?”

“I don’t know.” He uncovered the purple mark stamped on the inside of his left wrist. It was about the size of a coin. Part of a coin to be exact, a crescent, the same shape as the one shining over them at that moment. That was probably what had put Eyja in mind of it. He tapped his finger lightly over it. “I’ve never asked myself that question. They would simply use my name, Halfdan, I suppose.”

“It would have been a pity. Moon suits you.”

“Well, you say that now, but if my mark had been shaped like a line and they had called me Worm, you would have agreed it was the perfect name for me.”

She giggled, a sound he should have remonstrated her for, as it sounded nothing like what his “cousin” Eirik should sound. But he didn’t have the heart to. It impressed him that, in spite of everything, she still had enough spirit to laugh. “No. Not Worm. Snake at the very least. You’re too massive to be a worm.”

“I’m sure that’s meant to be a compliment, so thank you.”

There was laughter in her voice when she answered. “Not a compliment, just a fact.”

“Mm. Thanks anyway.”

She took hold of his wrist to peer at it. Moon found himself watching the way her fingers could not close around it. For a reason he could not explain, it caused him to swallow. Something was different between them tonight. Was it due to the time they had spent this afternoon, joking and getting to know one another better? He didn’t know, but one thing was certain, only the night before he would not have registered the softness of her fingers on his skin or been unsettled by the proof that she was as feminine as he was masculine.

“I wish I had a mark like yours. It’s always fascinated me. When I was young, one day I drew some on my whole body with charcoal. Moons and suns and stars and various animals.” He felt her shrug. “I wanted to be like you. My mother went mad when she had to scrub me raw that night.”

“Again,” he couldn’t help but add. With a daughter like Eyja, forever getting into scraps, Merewen would have had her hands full.

She giggled. “Yes, again. I’ve lost count of the times she had to wash me from head to toe.”

A light finger landed on his skin, and Eyja started to idly trace the contours of the mark. Everything within him tensed. The caress—for it felt like a caress, even if she had not intended it to be—was creating very disturbing sensations within him.

He took his arm away with a frown. “Stop that.”

“Oh, you’re ticklish then? How come I never knew that?” Eyja sounded utterly delighted, only adding to his discomfort.

“I’m not,” he said through gritted teeth.” He was... aroused, that was what he was. The realization was as unwelcome as a slap. His best friend’s sister, a woman he had known all her life, was getting his blood up with her sensual touch. How was he supposed to handle that notion?

“Are you sure you’re not ticklish? Let’s see.”

With those words, the minx fell on him. For a moment he was too stunned by the feel of a supple, feminine body atop his to react as he should. Her hands bracketed his body, her breasts—yes, she had breasts, apparently, how come he had never really noticed before?—pressed against his chest, her scent wrapped around him. He closed his eyes when her thigh rubbed against his groin, awakening sensations that should not have been awakened by her.

Everything within him leapt in protest.

This was wrong.

It was Eyja on top of him, not a conquest ripe for the taking. He could not lose sight of that fact.

“Enough!” he hissed, pining her in place next to him. “Bloody hell, you can be such a child sometimes. You wanted to be a man, well, act like one! Men do not giggle, they do not tickle each other, and cousins certainly do not caress each other’s wrists, do you hear, they do not lie on top of each other. You really are irresponsible. Do you want everyone here to think us lovers? Stop touching me, stop teasing me, stop… plain annoying me! Don’t you think you have done enough already?”

Her eyes became two huge, glittering pools and he instantly regretted his harshness. It was not her fault he had momentarily forgotten where and who they were, and felt fleeting, painful desire toward her. In fact she would probably be horrified if she knew.

Eyja’s insides withered under the violence of the attack. Never had she seen Moon so furious. His body, so close to hers, was radiating fury, his face was contorted in a feral grimace.

But still she didn’t try to fight the hold pinning her in place or protest, because he was right. She had wanted to pass herself off as a man, and men did not cry. Warriors on campaign did not sob like women, so she would not either.

But it cost her all her inner strength not to.

Stop plain annoying me. Haven’t you done enough already?

The words twisted her guts. That he wanted to protect her and keep her real identity a secret was one thing, but this was different. He wanted her to stop being a burden for him.

“I understand,” she said, her voice a deathly whisper. “I won’t bother you again.”

There was a silence, as if Moon was pondering on the best way to answer. Then finally he let go of her wrists and turned his back to her.

“Good.” That one word sounded like a condemnation. “Now go to sleep.”

Sleep ? Incredulity made her blink. Did he really think she would be able to sleep after what had happened? Her chest was aching as badly as if he’d physically punched her. Never had he spoken to her in that way before. Even when he’d been angry that she had followed him in this expedition, it had not hurt as much. That evening he had criticized her decision, something anyone with sense would have done. After all, she had placed herself into a dangerous, potentially lethal situation. But this time it was different, this time it was personal. He’d called her an irresponsible child, he’d asked her to stop annoying him. She wasn’t sure how to recover from such a blow to her feelings.

But it was not just the pain of his last words that prevented her from slipping into oblivion.

It was an odd restlessness in her lower body.

Feeling his hard chest under her when she’d tried to tickle him, his hands around her wrists when he had pinned her in place, his breath against her neck when he’d talked to her, had caused something inside her to shift. For a moment they had been in a very provocative position and her whole body had leapt in approval, almost in recognition, as if that was what it had hankered for all along. Perhaps it had.

Moon had never seen her like a woman, but she had been aware he was a man for years, ever since she had stopped being a child herself. Because of his lack of interest in her, however, she’d had to resign herself and pretend she agreed that nothing could happen between them.

But tonight... Something different had happened. The old Moon would simply have laughed when she’d started to tickle him, thrown her to one side and mocked her weakness, or tickled her back and shown her who was stronger. Instead, he’d kept her on top of him for longer than necessary and held her tight against his chest, his fingers splayed around her waist in a way she could only call sensual.

And she’d felt...

Heat invaded her cheeks. She’d felt him harden against her. It had been unmistakable. She knew all too well this was what happened when men got aroused. Say what he might, he had been affected as much as she had been. Obviously, their provocative position was responsible for this unexpected development, not her per se, but all the same, he had been aroused by her proximity and his arousal had provoked hers in turn. It was hard to be writhing atop a man such as Moon and remain indifferent.

What could she do now? Nothing. She could not slip a hand between her legs and ease the need he’d fired inside her, not here out in the open, not while she was wearing braies, not in the middle of thousands of men, not when there was a risk Moon would see her and know what their tussle had done to her.

There was only one thing to do.

Sleep , just as he’d said, and leave him alone.