Forest Child by Heather Gilbert

Author:Heather Gilbert [Gilbert, Heather Day]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WoodHaven Press via Indie Author Project
Published: 2017-05-13T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

REF DROPS OUR SMALL boat and rows us to shore. He won’t meet my eyes, and I fear he won’t meet Leif’s, either. Instead of acting like the free man he is, he’s behaving like a runaway slave.

I won’t have it.

I shove his chin upward before we secure the boat, forcing him to look at me even as Leif strides our way. “Don’t betray me,” I whisper.

Leif leans over to take my hand. From his thick leather vest to his sealskin boots, my brother gives the impression of wealth. His hair and beard are meticulously combed. He stares at my girl and I am unsure what to say.

“You had a child?” He pulls me to my feet, surprise etching his features.

“Indeed.” I step toward him, and although he hesitates, I pull him into a hug. My arms don’t quite wrap around his huge chest. “How are you, my brother?”

Gudrid edges closer, and I catch a glimpse of my other sister-in-law, Stena, close on her heels. Stena’s children frolic around the beach like puppies. I forget how many she has, but I should try to know them better, because her husband Thorvald was my favorite brother.

Leif pulls my attention back. “How am I, sister? Let me think. Brattahlid is operating with half its slaves, Mother has died, and Thorfinn is leaving soon.”

His joking tone doesn’t cover the spite beneath the words. He locks his hands on my arms, waiting for my response. When his gray eyes narrow, I can tell he wishes he could shake me senseless.

Ref stands helpless at my side. He would never go up against my powerful brother.

I do not give way. “I am sorry for taking your slaves, but the Icelanders would not sail if I didn’t have a full crew.” Leif sputters, but before he can voice his anger, I continue. “I didn’t want the Icelanders to take all the plunder, so I had to go along. And look!” I gesture toward the ship. “I have brought every slave back, as well as a large ship-full of goods.”

As he turns toward the ship, Gudrid slides between us, deftly pulling me from Leif’s grasp. She kisses my cheeks and Amoda’s head. Her son, Snorri, dances around my skirts, hoping for a closer glimpse of the baby.

“You have given birth,” she says, her grass-green eyes brimming.

I clasp her hands tightly, unwilling to be torn from this woman who somehow anchors me. I have so much to tell her, yet I can tell her nothing at all. Would she understand why I had to kill the volva?

Stena tiptoes closer, and when I see her smooth, tan face, with those dark eyes of her native Sami people, I choke back a cry. It could have been her head in that hole, if Valdis had come here. She would not have tolerated the presence of one Skraeling.

I have done the right thing.

We embrace, then walk toward the horses as the men speak on shore. “How did you know we were here?” I ask.

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