Leif lost no time in familiarising himself with the whole estate. For part of each day he rode out with Finn or Erik, accompanied by a few of his men. While much of the land was arable there was a large area of woodland too, a fact which Finn noted with approval.
‘The hunting ought to be good hereabouts. With your leave I’ll take some men tomorrow and investigate.’
Leif nodded. ‘Be my guest. We could do with some fresh meat in any case.’
‘My thought exactly. Do you want to come along?’
‘Not this time. I’ve got other things to attend to.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Finn.
‘Incidentally, be sure to hunt within our boundary lines. We don’t want trouble with the neighbours.’
‘Jarl Einar?’
‘Amongst others.’
‘As you wish.’ Finn followed his brother’s gaze to the stream that marked the northern limit of the estate. ‘Speaking of Jarl Einar, do you suppose he’ll send us an invitation to his niece’s wedding?’
Their companions grinned.
‘I seriously doubt it,’ said Bjarni. ‘Anyway, would you really want to stick your head in a hornet’s nest?’
‘Not even for a free drink,’ replied Ingolf.
‘Quite right. We’d be about as welcome as pox in a whorehouse.’
The men laughed and, as the group rode on, the talk turned to other things. Leif took no part in it, being otherwise preoccupied. His brother’s facetious question had proved oddly unsettling. In spite of being kept busy from daylight till dusk ever since his arrival, Leif still hadn’t been able to put Astrid entirely out of his mind. She lingered there on the edge of consciousness, only to return in force at those odd moments when he was forking hay or mending a fence and he had let his thoughts drift. She returned at night too after he’d retired, her violet eyes holding sleep at bay. Then he’d remember that brief stolen kiss and the scent and taste of her...
‘Are you all right?’ asked Finn.
Leif looked up quickly. ‘Of course. Why?’
‘You seemed miles away.’ His brother grinned, jerking his head towards the northern boundary. ‘Miles that way, perhaps?’
The reply was succinct and deeply insulting. Finn laughed out loud.
* * *
Astrid avoided her uncle as far as possible and, for the first few days after her return, kept to the bower and immediate environs. However, confinement grew tedious and she began to take a walk each day, re-familiarising herself with the place. Her uncle permitted these excursions but there were always a couple of his men in sight too. His trust only extended so far. It did nothing to improve her mood. Preparations were already underway for the wedding: her uncle was planning a great feast in honour of the occasion and, no doubt, to impress the noble guests who would attend. Three whole hogs were to be roasted, along with haunches of venison and dozens of chickens. The slaughterers were already busy. Her uncle’s fish traps would provide carp, tench and pike. The bakers had been ordered to make scores of loaves; the brewers gallons of ale and mead.
However, it wasn’t the thought of all the food which made Astrid feel queasy. It was the wedding night that preyed continually on her mind and the thought of that unwanted intimacy. She closed her eyes, seeing the barn, the empty stall and her cousin with his breeches open to reveal the swollen jutting spear within. She had stared at it in horrified fascination. He grinned. ‘Wouldn’t you like to feel this inside you?’ Appalled, she had shaken her head and backed away but he grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Come now, you know you want to.’ Swiftly she’d bent her head and sank her teeth into his hand. He cursed but his hold slackened and she tore free of him and ran. She never spoke of it afterwards. It would have caused uproar and it would have been her word against his in any case. All the same, she avoided her cousin whenever possible and when it wasn’t she made sure they were never alone. Disgust was harder to shake off, but as time went on, the incident was relegated to the back of her mind.
She wasn’t entirely sure why it had returned now, except perhaps that, like her marriage, it had involved coercion. She was a grown woman who knew the facts of life, and marriage was one of them. That was all very well when there was mutual consent, but being treated as a chattel was something else, and every instinct rebelled against it. Not that her uncle would care for that. He had the authority to determine her fate and he would make her submit one way or another. She would be forced to marry Gulbrand. There was no other choice now.
No other choice? For perhaps the hundredth time she relived that last conversation with Leif. If you come with me it will be with your eyes open. Having taken a high moral stance over that and spoken about honourable marriage, the same institution was about to be used by her uncle to prostitute her to Gulbrand. How amused Leif would be if he knew. Tears prickled behind her eyelids. He would not promise what he wasn’t prepared to deliver and, possibly, their time together might have been fleeting. I follow the whale road. All the same, she suspected now that a few months with him would be worth a lifetime with Gulbrand. If she had to choose again...
The sound of distant hoofbeats brought her back to reality and she stopped in surprise to see a column of horsemen approaching. There had to be fifty at least. They were too far away for her to make out details but their presence made her uneasy. Could Gulbrand have arrived early? While she didn’t much care for the implications, it was important to find out. Stepping into the lee of the brew house where she could watch unnoticed, she waited.
The column drew nearer, light glinting off helmets and spears. This was the retinue of a nobleman, and one of some importance. It had to be Gulbrand. Astrid’s stomach knotted. The sound of horses’ hoofs and jingling harness grew louder and details began to come into focus. She frowned, her gaze fixed on the man in front. Hakke! Despite her relatively secluded position she stepped back quickly, not wishing to attract his notice. What in the name of all the Aesir was he doing there? She wasn’t naïve enough to suppose it was merely on account of her forthcoming marriage to his cousin.
As the leading riders drew rein in front of the hall Hakke dismounted and Jarl Einar hurried forwards to meet his guest. The two men exchanged a few words and then went inside together. Feeling much disturbed Astrid stayed out of sight and took the long route back to the bower.
She was passing the back of the weaving shed when a servant stepped out in front of her. Astrid checked mid-stride to avoid a collision. The man bowed.
‘Beg pardon, my lady.’
Her heart leapt towards her throat as she recognised the voice. It couldn’t be. She must be imagining things. Her startled gaze scanned the plain homespun garb but the face under the hood was unmistakable like the smile greeting her now. She returned it, albeit somewhat tremulously.
‘Leif! What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see you.’
She glanced furtively over her shoulder, hoping they were not observed. ‘You must be mad.’
‘Perhaps. All I know is that I can’t get you out of my mind. I had to come.’
‘You took a terrible chance.’
‘Not so terrible.’
‘How on earth did you know where to find me?’
‘I’ve been watching the place for a couple of days, waiting for an opportunity to speak with you.’
‘It’s too dangerous for you to be here.’
‘Would it be