Page 28 of Haakon's Fate
That he was an idiot.
Heart heavy, Haakon looked through the window. It was starting to get light outside. A new day was just dawning, and he was already feeling drained.
Why had he come? Sven had offered to deliver the message to the reeve in his place but he had refused. Fool that he was, he had not wanted to miss the opportunity to see Gytha.
And this was the result. In less than an hour, he’d found himself under a man intent on assaulting him, he’d been denied the thanks he was owed for coming to the woman’s aid, and worst of all, he’d been accused of wanting to take advantage of her himself.
This was hopeless, and only went to show he’d been right to vow to stay away from fickle, ungrateful Saxons. Associating with them only lead to disillusion.
“I’m leaving,” he said, his voice flat. He refused to let Gytha see how much she had hurt him with her accusations. “Tell your father to come see me and Wolf at the village as soon as he can. I will not wait for him. After all, whether he finds out what happened today or three days hence makes little difference.”
Something like panic flashed through Gytha’s eyes. She caught him by the arm before he could move and glanced back to her room. “Wait. Aren’t you going to help me with Oswald?”
Oh, now she wanted him!
“No. I already helped you and all I got for my pains were accusations about my intentions. I think you can deal with him on your own. He’s not that heavy.”
With those words, he turned around and walked to the end of the corridor. The main hall was deserted, and once again he wondered why the house was left unguarded at night. He would have to have a word with the reeve about that.
It was only when he walked through the front door and felt the damp earth on the soles of his feet that he realized he didn’t have his boots on. Damnation! Now he was going to have to go retrieve them, and watch Gytha smirk at him.
Was he destined to appear ridiculous in front of this woman? It appeared so.
For a moment, he considered leaving barefoot, then he refused to let her win. The boots were a present from Rowena. They were almost new, and fitted him well. He didn’t see why he should have to leave them behind or risk injuring himself just because of an ungrateful minx.
Slamming the door, Haakon retraced his steps and entered the corridor once more.
“You bitch!” The snarl coming from Gytha’s room froze the blood in his veins. There was the sound of a slap, then a cry, then silence.
That silence was what spurred Haakon into action. He ran to the door. The sight meeting his eyes would haunt him for weeks to come. Oswald was towering over Gytha, who was crumpled on the floor, cradling the left side of her face.
“You knocked me cold when I came to you earlier,” the man was saying. “You’re going to regret it.”
With those words he made to grab her by the hair. Everything within Haakon leaped. He ran to the man, seized him by the tunic and slammed his back against the wall before he could touch Gytha.
“She didn’t knock you unconscious,Idid, you maggot,” he snarled in his face. His whole body was trembling with anger. Never in his life had he been more furious. “And I’m going to do it again. Only I might not stop there this time. I might slice your throat while you lie on the floor like the limp sack of shit you are. Or I might stick something you don’t want up your?—”
“Please! Have mercy.” Oswald could hardly talk.
“Why should I? Isn’t that what you meant to do to Gytha, just because you happen to be stronger, get inside her? Well, I’m stronger than you and I might want to amuse myself with your body, make it mine regardless of what you think. How would you like that? Or would you prefer to be awake so you could feel everything? Pain, is that what you like?”
The man only whimpered.
Haakon could not stand his pathetic sounds a moment longer. He raised his fist. For the second time that day, Oswald was knocked cold. Only this time, it was on purpose and Haakon seriously considered inflicting further damage.
Only the fact that Gytha was in the room with him prevented him from giving the man what he deserved. The last thing he wanted was to show her the worst side of himself.
“Come. We need to leave.”
He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the hall. Neither of them wanted to see Oswald’s prone body for a moment longer. He took her as far away from her room as possible, and sat on the mighty chair at the end of the equally massive table. She felt so small in his embrace, almost like a child. He never wanted to let go of her.
“Wait, let me look at you,” he said after a while, drawing back so he could examine her. How badly had she been hurt?
She wasn’t bleeding, he was relieved to see, but her whole left cheek was red, and a purple shadow had already formed on the cheekbone. There would be a bad bruise, pain and discomfort that would linger longer than he wished to consider.
Anger sent white-hot shards to the base of his skull.
“Did he hit you anywhere else?” He had not left her alone for very long, so he didn’t think so, but he had to make sure.
