Raven needed her curiosity settled. “Why is that? Why does Brynjar hate him so?”
She stared at the cauldron a few moments. “Brynjar doesn’t need a reason. He’s a vile man.”
Her brief hesitation had Raven sensing that the woman knew more than she was saying and she was completely caught off guard with what Greta said next. “Eria is a good woman and not your enemy. You should be kind to her.”
The words flew right out of Raven’s mouth. “Does Eria love Wolf?”
“No. Eria cares for him as she would a friend just as he cares for her as a friend. Their parents arranged their union, wanting to unite two powerful tribes, and both felt it was their duty to submit to their parents’ command. Wolf may be called the Beast, but he is far from one, except, of course, when he battles, then he is more ferocious than a wild beast.”
Fyn came out of his cottage stretching and broke into a smile as soon as his eyes fell on Greta, and she returned the same enthusiastic smile.
“Fyn is a good man,” Raven said.
Greta’s smile grew. “I know. Tait adores him.”
Tait wasn’t the only one who adored Fyn, and Raven was happy for him. He deserved a family, a home, love.
“You all right, Raven,” Fyn asked when he joined them.
That he looked to her first, asked how she was, when he obviously was eager to talk with Greta made her think how dedicated her men were to her. How much they had sacrificed for her. That had another question looming large in her mind. How long did she expect them to sacrifice for her?
The thought startled her and made her realize she had some thinking to do.
“I’m good, Fyn, a bit bruised and sore, but nothing that I haven’t felt before,” she said with a chuckle.
He laughed. “Haven’t we all been there and more than once.”
Raven saw Fyn’s laughter fade along with his smile when he looked to Greta. She had paled and her hand rested on her scar. He hurried to take the woman in his arms and Raven walked away, giving them their privacy. If it was anything she should know Fyn would tell her, though would he if Greta asked him not to?
Change was in the air, she could feel it, smell it, almost taste it. It was inevitable.
Raven headed back to the longhouse wondering over more than her husband and the bargain they had yet to strike.
“One of these mornings I will wake before you.”
Raven admonished herself silently for letting her mind wander and not paying attention to her surroundings. Then she spotted the two warriors off to her sides and realized she’d been followed since she’d left the longhouse earlier. She had to remember that.
“Few stir this cold winter morning,” Raven said and stopped when her husband’s steps brought him to her.
He reached out to snatch hold of her hand. “Come and warm yourself by the fire while we eat.”
“I’m not very hungry,” she said and saw his eyes turn suspicious. Was he thinking her ill due to the possibility of her being with child? The thought annoyed her. “I thought to speak to the two captives again.”
“They’ve told us what they could. What they know. Brynjar trusts few men and even less women.”
“I think they may know more, but fear saying anymore,” Raven said. “They worry what Brynjar might do to their families if he discovers they didn’t die with the other men. It would be good if you could bring their families here. Then they would be overjoyed with the Beast’s generosity and be eager to help him in any way they can. Or perhaps we will find that the men’s tales are just that—nothing more than tales.”
“Plans have been implemented to bring both families here, if they exist. Until then, the two men will be kept imprisoned.”
More and more he was finding they thought alike. He’d never had that strong of a bond with anyone and had only seen one couple who shared a bond like it… his grandmother and grandfather. His grandmother insisted it was their deep love that forged their strong connection. He and Raven far from loved each other. Surprisingly, though, he had found himself growing comfortable with her in ways he never expected. At least it was a start for them to get along and hopefully be friends rather than foes.
“A decision I would have made,” Raven said, pleased they thought the same on the situation. She let her eyes linger on his. They were filled with such power that they could overwhelm if gazed upon too long. It was no wonder they called him the Beast, he was as forceful as one. She turned her eyes away. “I could use a hot drink to warm me.”
He kept hold of her hand as they walked toward the longhouse.