The Viking's Captive(23)
But soon she found herself drifting off to sleep; a dark, almost dreamless sleep that felt like a reprieve from the situation she’d found herself in.
Chapter Nine
Halvor drove his wagon toward the longhouse with his sheep around him. They were being ushered along by his dog, Raven, who knew the herd and the land so well Halvor barely needed to do a thing.
He was loaded up with fifteen hens, a huge cut of mutton, and several trotters. He also had carrots, parsnips, and cabbage. He’d spent an extra coin on seeds so he could plant his field and the vegetable patch. They’d need to get to work soon in order to stock up for the winter months. He also had some cow milk, salt, fruit wine, and flax. And as he’d journeyed he’d collected hazelnuts, crab apples, elderberries, and rosehips. He’d hoped to find horseradish, as he enjoyed the flavor, but hadn’t been lucky.
He’d brought things for his slave too. For she had nothing but the rags she stood up in.
The longhouse was still and quiet, the door and window closed despite it being mid-morning. As he drew level with it, he pulled Ivan to a halt.
The horse snorted and scraped the ground.
Halvor frowned, wondering what his trusty steed was unhappy about.
The sheep skittered, Raven struggling to keep them under control as he shepherded them into the barn.
It was then he saw them.
Paw prints in the dirt. Big ones. They were undeniably wolf.
A bolt of fear went through him as he spotted more. There’d been a large pack prowling around in his absence.
“I hope you obeyed me, woman.” He jumped down and tethered Ivan, giving him a reassuring pat on the neck. The wolves had gone now; he only hoped his woman hadn’t left with them.
He thumped the door with his fist. “Duna, open up. It is I, your master.”
Nothing.
He hammered the door again. “Duna!”
Finally he heard the wood sliding free. Relief flooded through him. She was there, and hopefully hadn’t left the house in all the time he’d been gone.
Pushing the door open, he stepped into the dimly lit room.
She stood there, looking utterly pathetic, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes wide and scared.
“Are you unharmed?” He gripped her shoulders and studied her face.
She nodded. “Yes… Master.”
“You obeyed me, you stayed indoors?”
“I did. There were wolves outside, lots of them. They were here for many hours.” She peered past him, as though checking they weren’t about to burst in.
He frowned. “They do not come to the house often in the summer months, it’s the winter when they get hungry and I see them. I wonder what they were after.”
“Me.” She shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
It was then he noticed she’d bathed. Her hair was smooth and glossy, her skin clean and fresh.
“They would not be specifically after you,” he said, touching her cheek with the back of his index finger. “Perhaps they’ve gotten brave because the house has been empty for so long. Maybe they found a few morsels to eat around here when I left and came back to look for more.”
She stepped away from him, turned and went to the fire. She used the poker to move a slipped log onto the embers.
Something had changed about her, he wasn’t sure what. It was as if she were calmer, more resigned to being in his home.
He stepped back outside and retrieved several things from the wagon. Marching back indoors, he dumped a pile of clothes onto the table. “Here. Burn your old ones.”
She turned. “What?”
“The clothes you came in. They are old and ragged. Here are new ones, new undergarments too.”
She set down the poker and walked over to the bundle of material. “But—”
“Do as you’re told, slave. And when these clothes wear out, I will get you more, that’s the way it is. I will look after you, even if you vow to hate me.”
Her gaze settled on his face.
He wondered if she’d deny hating him.
“And this,” he said when it was clear she was to remain silent on the matter, “is only just old enough to be away from his mother, so he will need caring for.” From within his tunic, he produced a tiny gray kitten. It had one black ear, and had meowed for the first half of the journey until it had fallen asleep against his chest.
“A kitten!” A smile tugged at her lips.
“Yes, for the mice problem we have.”
“Oh, he’s lovely.”
Halvor passed the kitten over. He was light as a feather, his fur as soft as silk.
Duna took him single-handedly and cupped him beneath her chin. Her smile widened and softness grew in her eyes.
Halvor drank up the sight of her. When she wasn’t frowning she was incredibly beautiful. Her eyes were the shape of almonds, her lips soft and full, and her hair looked perfect for running his fingers through. “What will you call him?”
“I can pick a name?” She ran her jawline over the kitten’s fur as if she couldn’t get close enough.
“Aye, go ahead.”
“Hmm…” She frowned a little. “Misty, for he’s the color of the sea mist when it rolls toward my island at dawn.”
“I hope Misty will soon learn to love the taste of mice.”