Page 39 of Ravager
Chapter 17
Erik
“The good news is that the men have stopped poking fun at you,” Knut said glibly, but Erik barely heard him. They were both sitting at breakfast, staring at Cherine and Rolf as they walked past the dining hall and toward whatever adventures the two of them had planned for that day. It had been three weeks since that fateful night between Erik and Cherine in her chambers, three weeks since he’d been able to say one word to her, three weeks of her being at Rolf’s side for everything.
Not that he knew what to say to her if he could. Every glance he stole of her, he couldn’t decide if she looked happy or not. Oh, she smiled at Rolf, a beaming, beautiful smile that made him feel sick to his stomach. But when Rolf wasn’t looking—and when Erik was—she looked alone and lost in her own head. He had no real idea how Rolf was treating her, and though her face remained pure and unscathed, he occasionally spied bruise marks on her arms. He knew Rolf liked to play rough in the bedroom; he just hoped, for her sake, it wasn’t too rough. Cherine was a lot more vulnerable than she looked.
“So they stopped making fun of me. Good to know,” Erik replied to Knut absently. Ever since Rolf took Cherine, the other men had been calling Erik names and insulting his masculinity. Erik could care less what they thought, though. He had a plan, and Knut was privy to it.
Erik waited until Cherine and Rolf were gone before looking around the room. They were out of earshot from the rest of the men, men who were, once again, growing restless with Rolf’s decision to stay at the manor until the French king made his first move.
“Did you have a chance to talk to Karst?” Erik asked quietly, leaning forward.
Knut nodded. “I did. You have his loyalty, I promise you. He wants to return to his wife and children more than anything.”
“And what about you, young Knut? What are you returning to Norway for?”
Knut blushed, and in that moment, he looked more like a boy than warrior, his black curls framing his pale face and cheeks tinged pink. “Don’t tell the rest of the men, but I miss my mother. She’s getting older, you see, and since Papa died…”
Erik nodded at him. He understood. His own mother was one of the reasons he was going back. He wasn’t worried about her, since his uncle lived nearby, but he missed the normalcy of family just the same. He just hoped that the plan would work.
The idea was that, in three days, he, Knut and Karst would travel in the middle of the night, heading back to Criolium. It was a gamble. Even though they would be leaving while everyone else was asleep, they still needed a cart for their supplies for the sea voyage back to Norway. Part of those supplies included gold and jewels stolen from the manor. While returning to Norway was the secret dream of many Vikings, the monetary gains insured they’d follow through and stay silent.
That was what Erik was most worried about. If they didn’t get caught leaving, they’d have an eight-hour head start on Rolf and the rest of his crew—if they figured out where they were heading. Erik hoped Rolf would think differently, but he was a sharp man and would know soon enough that Erik was heading home. Even with that, however, they could still make it.
No, Erik was afraid Knut or Karst would blab to someone else and ruin the plan. Surprise was the only element they had on their side.
Then, the three of them would either convince the men who had been left at Criolium to guard the longships to go with them, or they’d have to kill them. They’d take the smallest longship, and if the sea conditions were right, they’d be back to Møre and Bergen in less than a month.
In less than a month, he’d be eating breakfast of herring at the base of a beautiful fjord. He’d be home, and Erik the Axe would be gone for good.
He exhaled slowly, letting out the flutter of nerves building up. If they left—whenthey left—he knew he’d be making an enemy for life out of Rolf. And having a potential duke as your enemy was no small feat. Erik could only hope Rolf would stay put. One would think the man wouldn’t give up his stronghold just so he could punish a deserter, but Rolf could be stubborn and vindictive beyond reproach, and being abandoned or betrayed by his oldest friend and right-hand man would be the sort of thing that would push Rolf over the edge.
The most likely scenario would be that Rolf would send an assassin to Norway, exacting revenge on Erik. He knew he’d have to live the rest of his years constantly looking over shoulder, but that was the price he was willing to pay. That was the price of freedom.
“Are you going to miss her?” Knut asked, and it took Erik a moment to realize he was talking about Cherine.
He gave him a small smile and a slight shake of his head. He was lying, and Knut knew it but let it slide. There were too many secrets in this moment; there was no use in another one being uncovered.
Chapter 18
Cherine
Ihadn’t gotten far on my walk before it started snowing. Though early snowfalls weren’t uncommon this time of year, I was completely unprepared for it. It was a shame, too, because the low clouds gave the surrounding forests and meadows a haunting look. I felt like I could relate, and now, with the sparkling white flakes floating down like confetti, everything looked far more beautiful than I felt.
I pulled my coat tighter around my face and decided to turn back. I’d told Rolf I’d be gone for at least an hour, something he seemed rather happy about, but I figured I could occupy myself with something else. Needlework always bored me, but it seemed the lady-like thing to do—something I needed to embrace, since I was set to become a duchess.
Of course, nothing had happened yet with the King of France, but Rolf was confident it was just a matter of time. The French would be a nervous wreck waiting for his next move, and eventually, they’d decide to cut their losses and make a deal with him. His confidence was catching, and slowly, it started to sink in that the life I’d only ever dreamed of could actually be mine.
But there was one problem, I thought as I kicked a large stone down the lane: the marriage. We weren’t betrothed yet, and I wasn’t sure if Rolf even believed in it, especially after losing his wife. But I knew the king would make things official in the eyes of the Lord. Growing up, I’d always known I’d have to marry someone I didn’t love; my only hope had been that he’d be kind. But now that I’d had a taste of freedom, I found myself thinking more about Erik than anything else.
I knew it was ridiculous. I didn’t love Erik any more than I loved Rolf, but at least with Erik, I’d felt some kind of connection. Rolf was kind during the day and brutal at night. Our sex had become rough and wild to the point where I was starting to dread it. Sometimes, I’d have time to come; sometimes, I wasn’t even allowed. His obsessive need for control had gone too far. Erik had been abrasive when he needed to be, but it was just the right amount. I found myself wondering how things might be different if I was a duchess beside him instead of Rolf.
But there was no point in dwelling on what couldn’t be changed. Though Rolf was fickle and cantankerous at times, he was a leader, a ruler, and I would rule beside him. I’d have money and the finest things life had to offer. I would have a life that would erase my old one and make all the wrongs right again. Besides, I still found Rolf incredibly sensual, even when he was riding me like a horse or whipping me with rope. As long as he didn’t start doing anything too outlandish, I could live with the hedonistic beast as my husband.
I had to.
I entered the gates of the village and strolled up to the manor’s door, where the guards parted for me. I glanced around, hoping to spot Erik. We’d only seen each other from afar, and he was always watching me. I wanted to think he was looking out for me, but the way things had been left between us the lasttime we were intimate made me question everything. What did he think of me? Did he care that I was with Rolf? Had Erik ever wanted me for myself, or had he only been with me because Rolf ordered him to?