In Bed With The Viking Warrior. Harper St. George
hardly alone. I brought my sword.’
He didn’t want to say how the sword hadn’t saved her from the Dane.
‘You think I couldn’t have handled him.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘I think he was more than twice your size. Do you have no man to protect you?’
The question made her step falter, but then she continued onward without looking at him. ‘Nay, I do not need a man.’ Her jaw clenched as she stared ahead.
What would make a woman so young think she didn’t want a man in her life? The question was interesting, but he didn’t press her further. Instead, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other without falling, his gaze scanning the forest for any sign of warriors. They walked in silence for a while, her softness fitting so naturally against him that he allowed himself to relish it. Apparently it had been a while since he’d enjoyed the nearness of a woman. Finally she stiffened beneath his arm, becoming more alert, meaning they must be getting close to the village.
Pulling away from her earned him a puzzled frown, but he wouldn’t let anyone else know the true extent of his injuries. He couldn’t count on anyone to keep him safe, though he believed the woman would try. He trusted her.
‘Your village?’ he asked, spotting a break in the trees far ahead. A wall made of earth and wood rose up tall on the far side of a clearing. The thought that it was easily scalable teased the edges of his mind. His memory might be gone, but his warrior instincts were intact.
The straw of a thatched roof could be seen just above the edge of the wall. It would make an excellent target for an archer with an arrow dipped in pitch. Trying to be mindful of his head wound, he turned his head left, then right to look for the sentries who must have seen them by now and saw no one. Though the movement caused black spots to dance before his vision, making him stumble with the next step, almost toppling the poor woman beneath him.
She stifled a cry of surprise and he did his best to land on his other side, jarring his bruised ribs and grimacing as his head roiled with pain. It was a moment before the roaring in his ears died down and he could hear her speaking to him. It was a moment more before he could concentrate enough on her strange words to make sense of them. The grey at the edges of his vision cleared enough that he could see her lovely face as she stared down at him, her brow furrowed in concern.
‘Please don’t die. Please don’t die. Please don’t die.’ She spoke the words like a mantra.
He couldn’t say why she reduced him to a grinning fool, but the smile spread across his face just the same. It was as if now that he was so close to death, the complexities of life had ceased to matter. Somehow his hand found its way to her cheek. He saw his thumb caressing her cheekbone before he actually felt the sensation of her silken skin. ‘I’ll not die. Not yet.’
Her smile was mesmerising in its beauty. He wondered if he’d found a nymph intent on leading him to his death, but he admitted that he’d happily follow her. He’d already followed her this far into the unknown.
‘That’s my village.’ She nodded towards the wall, though her gaze never broke with his. ‘It’s only a little further.’
‘I’ll stay here. If there are others after me, I won’t lead them to you in the village. It’s not safe.’
She frowned. ‘We’ll be safer inside the walls.’
Shaking his head, he grimaced at the inevitable pain and stilled. ‘It’s close to the stream. There are no fortifications. Nothing stands between you and danger.’
‘There is a wall.’ She frowned. ‘We’re not that close to the stream and there are men always posted on lookout.’
‘It’s too low—that wall is no match for determined warriors. If there are sentries, they should have seen us already.’
She chewed her bottom lip and gave him a searching glance. She was wondering how he’d know that and he couldn’t blame her. The need to run niggled at the edge of his mind, but it failed to give strength to his body and clarity to his vision. There was no help for it. He was at the mercy of her warriors, which was why he wouldn’t go inside the walls.
‘We’ve only approached through the back way and I know where they hide, so I avoided them.’ He glanced at her face at that admission and she gave him a shy smile. ‘I thought it might be best if others don’t know of your presence right away.’
‘Am I in danger from them? A danger to you?’
‘I vow no one will harm you while you’re in my home.’ Their eyes met and held and Aisly had to struggle to take a breath. Something about this stranger affected her more than it should. She didn’t know him at all, but she felt safe inviting him into her home. The danger in that would come from the elders, not the man himself.
He broke the stare, looking back towards the wall of her village. ‘I believe you, fair one. It’s not my intention to make things difficult for you, but it’s best I stay outside. I’ll be on my way after the meal you’ve offered. If you could just bring it out, I’d be grateful.’
She ignored the casual endearment and the fact that she liked it. ‘My name is Aisly. And I fear you won’t be going anywhere for a while in your condition.’ Whether he realised it or not, his wound was grievous. She was amazed that he’d made it two whole days without falling into the deep sleep that could sometimes claim people after such an injury. That sleep usually led to death and it would happen to him soon if she couldn’t figure out how to get nourishment into him quickly. Even that might not be enough. If only the warriors would see things her way and allow her to care for him before they tried to determine if he was a threat to the village.
‘I just need a short rest. I’ll recover quickly.’ He grinned at her.
Typical warrior, refusing to admit to his weakness even when it was to his detriment. Even through the layers of his tunic and undershirt, the heat from his body had been unnatural and a touch to his temple confirmed her fears. He was feverish and wouldn’t last more than another day on his own, and that was if more of those rebel Danes weren’t after him.
‘You need sleep and a meal. Stay here. I’ll go and get you some food and a dressing for your wound.’
He agreed and reached for the sword strapped to his back. When his face twisted in pain, she reached around to unfasten the scabbard so that he could lie back. He smiled at her again as he sat back against a tree trunk and held the sword tight to his chest with both hands. The way he looked at her, so intense, so admiring, made something flutter deep in her belly.
‘Many thanks, fair one.’
She opened her mouth to remind him again that her name was Aisly but decided to let it pass. Rising to her feet, she gave him one last lingering glance. ‘Please stay here. Don’t try to go.’
‘You have my vow.’ His eyes were already half-lidded, making her wonder if that deep sleep would claim him before she could get back to him.
Turning abruptly, she hurried through the woods so that she could approach the gate from the front. It wouldn’t do to have anyone wondering why she was meandering around behind the village, just in case someone got suspicious. She’d tell them about the stranger later, after she had done the minimum to help him.
Pausing a moment at the tree line, she smoothed a hand down her headrail and then her skirt to make sure she didn’t look as harried as she felt. A quick glance at the sun confirmed it was nearing midday. A glance to the left showed movement in the fields. Men and women would still be there for a bit, so it’d be less likely for anyone to question her coming and going. Taking a breath, she took off at a sedate pace across the field towards the open gates. A warrior leaned back against one of the doors that had been blackened from a skirmish with the rebel Danes. He’d been one of the men who had served under Godric but hadn’t been at the settlement that deadly day just over two months ago. She gave him a smile and he nodded before turning back to the warrior at