Page 60 of Haakon's Fate
“Hungry now?” he asked, nodding to the table, where the modest feast she had assembled the evening before lay untouched.
“Famished.”
He smiled. “So am I. Let’s eat then.”
The silence between them was comfortable, like between old acquaintances. Once the bread and cheese had been reduced to crumbs, there was no other alternative but to stand up and leave the shed.
“Haakon—”
“Gytha—”
They spoke at the same time. Then Haakon gestured that she should talk first. As she had no idea what she’d been about to say, she felt herself blush.
“I… Just…wanted to thank you. For last night. For not mocking me. For showing me pleasure. For everything.”
“I think I should be the one thanking you. For trusting me. For giving me pleasure. For everything.”
Her heart melted and she knew she wouldn’t have the courage to say more.
After one last heated glance, they made their way to the horses, which were already saddled, as she had guessed. Soon, they were underway.
They rode hard, as planned, barely exchanging any pleasantries, each lost in their own musings, which she didn’t dare hope centered around the same thing. At this speed, they might well reach their destination before it was dark. And indeed, as the light began to fade, they spotted the Norsemen village in the distance. Though she was reassured they wouldn’t have to spend the night out in the open, Gytha felt they had arrived too soon. She could have ridden alone with Haakon for days.
To add to her distress, they were coming home empty-handed. How would they face Matilda, tell her they had no idea where her daughter was? In her purse the heart-shaped rock seemed to weigh as much as an anvil. Her own heart was heavy and beating a dull rhythm. Her head seemed to have been stuffed with cloth and her chest felt strangely hollow. Dear, oh dear, what was happening to her?
Haakon turned to her. His face was a mask of anguish and suddenly she knew he was about to tell her what he had meant to tell her that morning. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it.
“Gytha, I?—”
“It’s all right. I never asked for anything more.” She had asked to be taken. And he had indulged her. He didn’t need to feel guilty for not offering her any sort of commitment afterward. “But I do feel…odd all of a sudden.”
More than odd, actually. The words she’d just spoken echoed into her skull. And why was the light so bright? Wasn’t it supposed to be dusk?
“Is it because of what happened between us?” Haakon sounded stricken—and very far away.
“No. My head is pounding and I’m cold.”
“Cold?” The incredulity in his voice and the worried look on his face when he peered at her told her that it was far from cold. Indeed, though it was late, he was wearing only his undershirt. “Come. The sooner we reach the hut, the better. I think you need to lie down.”
Yes, lie down and close her eyes.
Haakon was getting increasingly worried.At first Gytha had managed to ride normally but she was now swaying in the saddle. Her face was flushed, even though she had complained of the cold and her eyes were barely open.
At this rate he wondered if they would reach the hut before she needed assistance. How long had she been feeling poorly? She should have told him earlier she was not well. Hell,heshould have noticed something was not right. Why, oh why had he paid so little attention to her during the day? Because, coward that he was, he’d been embarrassed, and all too glad to travel in silence. In his haste to get back, he’d pushed her too hard.
And here was the result.
What was ailing her? She had seemed hale and hearty that morning and it had not been overly cold today. It had not even rained. Had she caught something from the musicians or in that damned filthy village? He didn’t know, and it hardly mattered. What he needed to know was not where she had caught the fever but how to get her better.
By the time they reached his hut night had almost fallen and Gytha could barely sit straight. Haakon jumped down fromSleipnir, and nodded to her to do the same. She slid off the saddle without a word, weak as a kitten. Had he not been there to catch her, she might well have fallen in a heap on the ground. But he was here, so he swept her into his arms. She didn’t protest or comment.
“Torsten, over here!” he called out, sounding slightly panicked.
His friend lived in the hut next to his and would see to the horses while he took care of Gytha.
“Ah, Haakon, you’re back. Aife and I were just saying we had— What happened, is she hurt?” Torsten ran up to him, the smile on his face vanishing at the sight of the woman in his arms.
“No. But she’s ill. See to the horses, will you, and go get Helga.”
