“An unnecessary eye,” Raven argued.
“I do as Wolf tells me,” Hagen said. “And Wolf does what is right. He protects his wife.”
“He’s got you there,” Brod said with a chuckle.
Raven walked away from them both, shaking her head.
Brod kept his eye on her as he spoke. “You know she can lose you anytime she wants.”
“So I’ve been told, so it might be good to have a few more eyes on her,” Hagen said.
“I’ll tell the others and we’ll talk with you later.”
“Wolf will be glad we work together,” Hagen said and hurried off after Raven.
Raven ducked into the longhouse for a hot brew after spending an hour with her husband and Gorm. Nothing more had been found in the surrounding area where the dead man had been discovered, but then the snow hadn’t helped in the search. There could be clues buried beneath some of the mounds of snow but until it melted, they had nothing. However, it had given her time to discuss her ideas about some tree perches and she was pleased that her husband and Gorm had been receptive to her ideas. Gorm even appeared enthusiastic about it and Wolf had told her to work with Gorm on it.
She was pouring herself another hot cider when Greta entered the common room. “Join me,” she offered, the young woman appearing pale.
Greta gripped the tankard Raven handed her.
“You’re upset. Did you find something that disturbed you?”
“No,” Greta said and took a sip of cider before continuing, “I know that death is part of life, but some deaths trouble me more than others. It appears you were right. The dead man froze to death and it wasn’t necessary.”
“What do you mean?”
“His garments tell us he’s a Northmen and Northmen know how to survive in a snowstorm. I can only assume that this man thought he could reach his destination before the snow and cold captured him. It could mean that he knew he’d be welcome here.”
Raven said her thoughts aloud. “So he was friend not foe or he wanted us to believe that or” —she paused in thought— “he had an urgent message for Wolf and fought the snowstorm to make it here.”
“Then he was a brave soul,” Greta said, tears shining in her eyes.
Fyn entered, a dusting of snow covering him. “George is with Tait and Eria. I’ve come to escort Greta back to the keep before the weather worsens.” He rushed to her side when he saw the tears in her eyes that had yet to fall and took her in his arms. “What’s wrong?”
She buried her face against his chest, shaking her head.
“I think everything has been a bit much for her,” Raven said. “You should get her to the keep and let her rest.”
Greta eased away from Fyn and shook her head again. “No, I am good, lack of sleep last night and worries over my son’s nightmares, that’s all. I’m the healer and need to be strong even when I don’t feel strong.”
“You have my strength to lean on,” Fyn said, worry in his eyes for her.
“I so appreciate that, Fyn. And right now I can use some of it since I need to tend some people in the village before I return to the keep.”
“I’ll go with you,” Fyn said, then cringed as he looked to Raven. “I’m supposed to meet with the others and Hagen and Leif as well.”
“Are you now?’ Raven asked with a quirk of her brow.
Fyn realized his mistake, letting her know what they were up to.
“Go with Greta, she needs you more than the others. I’ll send Ida to them with a message.”
Fyn went to speak.
She saw how torn he was, loving the woman in his arms yet feeling as if he abandoned the woman who had once saved his life.
“Go, Fyn, with my blessing,” she said as if releasing him from any responsibility for her. He hesitated. “Hurry, before the snow turns bad and Greta is unable to get back to her son.”
“Aye, we must hurry, Fyn,” Greta said.
Fyn sent her a smile before rushing off with Greta, and Raven smiled as well, knowing he realized she had mentioned her son on purpose to get them both moving.
Her smile grew at the thought of the men who had become her family growing, of them all becoming part of a bigger family, and the happiness it would bring them. Her smile faltered. That was if Brynjar didn’t steal it from them. She had enough of family being taken from her, she wouldn’t let it happen again.
She grabbed her cloak and left the longhouse. She wanted to retrieve the knife she had seen in the dead man’s boot. It might reveal something about him. Could he have been a messenger with an important message for Wolf that had him anxious to take a chance in the snowstorm? But who sent him? Or had he been a foe who had come to plant himself in Wolf’s tribe? But then why would he rush to get here?