One Night with the Viking by Harper St. George

Author:Harper St. George
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-01-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Kadlin turned her head to see Gunnar standing just across the front room at the end of the passageway. He wore one of the furs he’d arrived with around his shoulders as a cloak. It was long enough that it dropped almost to the floor, obscuring the heavily wrapped leg and almost, but not quite, hiding the bottom of the walking stick lodged under his left arm. But she doubted Baldr noticed it, because the menacing sword Gunnar held with his right hand was currently pointed at him and demanded his full attention. The fur had fallen back on that side, revealing his naked shoulder and the muscle that had returned there. It was impressive how he managed to hold what was intended to be a two-handed weapon so steady with only one arm.

‘I’d heard you had returned, nearly dead and unmanned, Gunnar. Glad to see the rumours were only half-right. You’re not dead. What a surprise to find you staying here.’

If she had looked back at Baldr, she knew she’d find him scowling at her. The fury from his gaze all but burned the back of her neck. He felt betrayed that she hadn’t told him, as if she owed him anything.

‘Get your hands off her,’ Gunnar repeated, his voice tense and solid, but not loud or angry.

He was controlled and it was that more than the words that made Baldr’s hands loosen. She quickly disengaged herself from him and moved away, but she didn’t want the potential for violence to escalate so she stayed near enough. ‘Thank you for the mead, Baldr. Please give my best to Father.’

There was absolute silence after she spoke, her words a plea for him to leave. She didn’t want Gunnar to have to outright demand that he go. That was a challenge a warrior like Baldr wouldn’t be able to resist. He wouldn’t be able to leave without a fight then; he’d be forced to prove himself. Gunnar didn’t appear to be at a point where he could handle the situation with tact. Baldr didn’t look at her, but she stared at him, imploring him to take the easy way out.

Finally, he did. The tension in his shoulders eased just slightly, just enough that he could step back towards the door, his hand raising to open it. When he did, Gunnar let the tip of the sword drop so that it rested just barely on the floor in front of him, still at the ready should he need to use it.

Without a word to either of them, Baldr left, slamming the door in its frame and leaving a heavy and awkward silence behind him. Kadlin wanted to say ‘thank you’, she should have said ‘thank you’. She meant to say it, but Gunnar hadn’t taken his eyes from the door, even after the hoof beats of Baldr’s horse had receded. And she couldn’t take her eyes from Gunnar. He stood tall, every inch the powerful warrior that he had once been.

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