“As it should be.” Helka smiled. “I see that you make him happy.”
She hesitated before continuing. “You know that others have shared his bed.”
My chest tightened. Of course, I was aware, especially after my recent encounter with Bodil. It had been plain, too, from our first meeting—when Eirik had carried me over his shoulder into the Great Hall of my husband and had taunted me before his men. I’d thought he would strip and display me for all to see as he fucked me. Instead, he’d chosen another way, taking me to the chamber I’d shared with my husband until that morning, his blood still damp on the floor.
“Among the thralls, there are few he hasn’t bedded, but there are others too… though their husbands may not perceive it.”
Thinking of the child upon Bodil’s hip and how Bodil had looked at me with such malice, I knew perhaps more than Helka realized. It made me wonder at the purpose of her conversation because she didn’t usually speak in this rambling fashion.
Helka indicated a fallen trunk nearby and, brushing away damp leaves, invited me to sit. “I see that you wish to be more than Eirik’s companion.” She turned to look at me. “You wish to be his only one, his wife?”
I plucked at some soft moss growing on the rotting wood and sat quietly. As the weeks had passed, I’d become aware of my deepening feelings for Eirik. I saw him not as my master, nor captor, but as the husband that I yearned for—the man I wished to father my children. I fell asleep with the smell of him and woke to the pleasure of his kisses and the insistence of his morning desire.
I’d agreed to accompany Eirik to Svolvaen without promise of marriage. I’d asked for nothing beyond what he’d already given me. Nevertheless, it was true; I did want more.
“None has kept his interest as you do, but I say this to prepare you, Elswyth.” Helka leaned forward, touching my arm. “It may never be.”
As kindly as she meant the words, my heart gave a bruised leap. The wind rose at that moment and sent a wave through the branches, rippling the leaves, making it seem that they breathed with rustling sighs.
“His marriage is long overdue and, when it’s made, it should be to a woman who brings not only a dowry but the promise of alliance. Svolvaen is prosperous, but we must grow stronger. As the ruling family, it’s our duty.”
I thought of Asta’s arranged betrothal to Gunnolf. Was there already a woman of noble birth promised to Eirik? My stomach churned at the thought.
Helka drew me closer. “I see that you understand and that it hurts you, for I know the love that you harbour for him.” She took my hand. “It’s best for you to put these feelings aside. Eirik will let you go when the time comes, but he will behave honourably. You’re strong, Elswyth, and will endure.”
It seemed to grow quieter, as if the trees pressed close about were listening to us: not just to our conversation but to the whirl of my thoughts.
“When the time comes, you may continue serving Asta, keeping Eirik’s bed when he desires it, or he’ll find another man to be your husband.”
Helka’s face was all concern. I could see that she took no joy in telling me this. Nevertheless, a surge of heat and anger took hold of me. “And what of you, Helka? Where is your alliance? Your husband is gone, and you have no children. Where is your marriage of duty?”
Her expression grew cold, and she drew back as if I’d attempted to strike her. At once, I regretted my sharp tongue. I knew well enough that she mourned Vigrid, though he’d died a full two years before.
I reached for her, wishing to put right my unkindness, but Helka stood and moved several steps away, presenting her back to me.
My eyes pricked with frustrated tears.
“Forgive me, Helka,” I begged. My disappointment had made me cruel, and I was ashamed. She spoke, I knew, only to warn me—to protect my heart.
It was some moments before she turned again. Her lashes were wet but there was steel in her voice. “You say this because you don’t know…”
I was suddenly small and out of place, sitting among the dark ferns and twining roots. It had grown colder, and I felt myself an unwelcome intrusion in this ancient place. These were not the oaks and elms of my childhood forest, those I’d climbed, and under which I’d hunted for berries. Their shadows fell differently. Even the far-off birdcalls seemed strange to me.
Helka gave a rueful smile. “Vigrid is gone, yet he lies beside me at night. I sense him though I cannot see him.” She looked at me directly. “How, then, can I bring another into my bed?”
I knew not what to say. Though I’d seen my husband murdered in front of me, I hadn’t grieved for him. I’d given him little thought since leaving my village. Helka’s devotion was altogether different, more akin to mine for Eirik. Should I lose him, I would lose part of myself.
“It’s only a feeling…” Helka wiped her sleeve to her face. “There are many things that may be felt, though they pass unseen.”
“There’s no… malevolence?” I asked, suddenly fearful. If my own husband were to return to me, it would be in revenge or anger, not for love.
She shook her head. “I’m in no danger.”
We walked on without speaking for a while, neither of us wishing to return to the subject. Whatever had passed between us, it appeared to have been set aside.
At last, Helka advised that we turn back, for it was growing dim. The autumn was fully upon us, and the light fading earlier each day.
I agreed, but we had gone only a few steps when I saw some funghi growing upon a nearby tree and beckoned Helka back for the use of her knife in collecting them.
