Page 60 of Heart of Fire
If her father heard of what had happened…. She couldn’t imagine the shame on his face. Many years ago there had been no censure in being staked out for thedreki, but with even the crofters out here succumbing to religion…. And her father believed. Truly believed. Freyja stepped toward him, her fists clenched. “If you dare disturb myfather—”
“You’ll what? I would not be making threats if I were you, mistress.” Magnus’s gaze slid sinuously over her breasts, seeming to strip off each layer ofclothing.
Magnus wasn’t the first man to make her feel like this, and he wouldn’t be the last. But she was so tired of being made to feel like an outsider, or a piece of cattle to be traded. If he weren’t sitting on that horse, she might have lashed out with her power, but the poor creature snorted, as if sensing the slight shiver of her gifts across itsskin.
Magnus’s gaze sharpened and he urged the stallion closer, forcing her backward. “You—”
“That’s enough!” Haakon snapped, grabbing his stirrup and yanking atit.
The two men locked gazes, something seeming to pass in the air betweenthem.
“You’re here at my discretion,” Haakon challenged him. “Notyours.”
“Magnus,” Andripleaded.
Magnus finally smiled, a chilling sight indeed. He bowed his head, though the gesture was barely a sign of submission, and more an indication that he would take up this fight at a later date. “As youwish.”
Haakon let go of the stirrup and stepped back, turning on her with almost vicious intensity. Freyja drew back and he noticed it, his gaze flickering to hers. For the first time she saw the coldness in his expression melt, a sense of true shame creeping over his hardmouth.
“My apologies.” He nodded to her, deeply. “We mean you no harm, you have myword.”
Magnus glanced at her over Haakon’s shoulder. Haakon might actually be speaking the truth, but the other mercenary had given nooath.
“Get off my land,” she repeated quietly. “And don’t ever come back. You’ve doneenough.”
Haakon opened his mouth as if to speak, then hesitated. He swung up onto his gray gelding and gathered thereins.
Andri swung the reins over his horse’s head. Freyja licked her lips. He’d not done anything to her. “We use moss out here to make a poultice. He’s strained the muscle in his foreleg, and you’ll get few miles out of him today, if any. You’d be best to walk often, or you’ll lose the use of him for severalweeks.”
Magnus snorted under his breath and kicked his black into a canter. Clods of dirt flew up as he rode directly past her.Goodriddance.
“Thank you.” Andri watched the bigger man go, then gave her a troubled look. “I won’t let him trouble you again, mistress. My word onit.”
“As much as your word is worth,” she saidpointedly.
He actuallycolored.
Haakon and Andri she could manage, for they were bound by some sense of common decency at least. But the look in Magnus’s eyes left her cold, for he had seen her as nothing more than a common whore, a worm beneath his heel. Something to be used anddiscarded.
All of a sudden, she couldn’t help the rise of shame that filled her. All three men knew what had happened to her in thedreki’slair. She had not felt shame until then. What had happened between her and Rurik had been both wondrous and private; a memory to last a lifetime and to warm her on cold, lonelynights.
For she knew now she would never make such a choiceagain.
Fifteen
FREYJA WOKETHE next morning to a rose on herpillow.
At midafternoon, she found a book on her windowsill, covered in red leather with gold embossed writing on the spine. It contained Scandinavian fairy tales, and reminded her of her mother. Freyja shut it with a snap and put it in the pile of gifts she was determined to return to herdreki, even as her heart gave an unexpected twinge. She’d been forced to sell most of her mother’s books, and it had been years since she’d had the pleasure—or time—toread.
A bottle of wine greeted her at dinner. There was an extravagant ham waiting for her on the table for breakfast the next day. Freyja stared at it for a good ten minutes before deciding there was no point in wasting it. Both she and her father were hungry. The ham would spoil if she took it back to Rurik, and she couldn’t in good conscience allow a pig to die for nothing. So she made a thick and hearty soup with it, cursing him with every breath, even as she stirred thepot.
What did he want fromher?
Forever,whispered his voice in hermemories.
“Goodness, Freyja,” her father exclaimed when he took his first taste. “This is absolutely delicious. Is that ham? I haven’t tasted ham inyears.”
Freyja’s eyes stung with tears as she watched him devour the bowl. Then another. How could she harden her heart to this? She wanted to thank Rurik for this gift, even as she knew it took her down a dark road where she would only end with her heartbroken.
