Page 60 of Alliance Bride
At the end of the first hour, one man from Aevar’s team left the field clutching his shoulder. Another limped off not long after. Runar sighed. Wordlessly, he stood from where he’d sat down by Inga and shed his layers.
As he strode onto the field, Eadlyn caught the way Inga’s face glowed with appreciation. Ranvi noticed as well, and they shared a giggle.
Inga lifted a brow at them. “What? Admiring your husband is not just for young women.”
When Runar joined Aevar’s side, Erik called it cheating. Aevar shouted back that they were still down a man, and the game continued.
It stretched into the afternoon, the sun arcing overhead. More players hobbled off, none seriously hurt, but not unscathed either. Alys and Nesta brought a basket of cheese and berries, which the women shared under the shade while the men paused only to drink from a water bucket before returning to the fray. Eadlyn never touched her weaving, unable to tear her attention from the field.
By the time the sun began brushing the mountaintops with gold, Aevar’s team pulled ahead by a single point, ending the game with cheers and laughter and more than a few bruises. Eadlyn clapped, breathless as she sank back in her chair. Her heart pounded as if she’d played right alongside them. As the men grouped together in a sweaty, muddied cluster, she scanned the crowd and found Aevar. He caught her gaze and sent her a grin—one that saidsee, I survived—and then vanished into the others as they headed for the fjord.
Inga rose. “Well, we best go prepare the bandages and salves so we’re ready when they get back.”
Eadlyn bent to gather Aevar’s tunic, making sure his hammer pendant did not fall. She ran her fingers over the knotwork ridges and breathed a prayer of thanks to God for His protection over Aevar today and asked that one day he would seek the truth. Putting them in her basket, she joined the women as they walked back to the longhouse.
Along the way, Ranvi leaned into her. “You enjoyed that.”
“No.” The denial sprang from Eadlyn’s lips. The people of Essix would be scandalized to think of their princess enjoying such a violent sport. And yet, she couldn’t deny that her own bloodstill thrummed with the thrill of watching Aevar play. She tried to stifle a smile, but it broke out anyway. “Well, maybe a little.”
Back at the longhouse, Alys and Nesta fetched fresh water while Inga set baskets of healing supplies on one table. Though it took a while for the men to arrive, their rowdy voices reached the hall before they did. It sounded like Braan and Kian still argued about whether it was cheating for Runar to have joined mid-game, but they were grinning as they came through the doors.
Eadlyn eyed them now that they’d washed the grime away. Bruises and abrasions darkened their skin in places, along with some fresh blood. Aevar’s hair was wet, and a thin line of blood traced down from a cut near his hairline. She tried not to stare at the way water beaded on his chest. However, she remembered what Ranvi had said and allowed herself a longer look.
The men took seats along the benches for the women to examine them. While Eadlyn had never cared for any serious wounds, she had tended both herself and Edward many times after their father’s drunken rages, so she knew what to do for simple cuts and bruises.
When Aevar sank down, a wince crossed his face. She could only imagine how sore and exhausted he must be after so many hours of intense game play, but he gave her a sort of lazy smile that made her insides flip. She reached for a bowl of water and a clean cloth.
Across the table, Kian heaved a loud sigh. “I guess I’ll languish here with no wife to tend me.”
Inga lightly cuffed him on the side of the head as she passed. “Be patient. I’ll get to you.”
Everyone laughed, and Eadlyn focused her attention on Aevar. She started with the blood on his face, memories returningof when she’d done the same during the Gathering. Had there been something between them even then?
“So all these heroic scars I thought came from battle, are they actually from playingknattleikr?”
He chuckled. “Not all. But this will be the second one Braan’s given me.”
His brother snorted. “He had the first one coming.”
Eadlyn scanned the collection of scars on Aevar’s face. “Which one?”
He touched a scar on his chin.
She glanced over at Braan. “And how did that happen?”
“Well, thisveslingrtried to creep up behind me while I was practicing and got a sword to the chin.”
“I was eight,” Aevar muttered.
“Old enough to know not to sneak up on a man while he’s practicing.”
“Not sure I would have called you a man.”
“I was thirteen. Close enough,” Braan shot back.
More laughter rose from the group, and Eadlyn kept working. She moved to a patch of raw skin on Aevar’s shoulder, cleaning it gently before reaching for a small jar of salve. As she smoothed it over the wound, his fingers skimmed along her arm.
She froze. Her heart skipped a beat and fluttered on. This was the first time he’d touched her affectionately. When she looked up, he was watching her, waiting. There was no mistaking the intent this time. The flowers, the attention, the way he’d interacted with her lately—they weren’t just friendly gestures. He was seeking more. While she had harbored the fragile hope that someday they would share a deeper relationship, this new possibility of it caused butterflies to erupt in her belly. She felt a tentative smile slip outand dropped her attention back to her work, though she found it much harder to focus now.
