She tilted her head to the side, confused. “I thought you had no love for your sire. I thought you mentioned being outlawed.”
He nodded. All right, let’s get this somber discussion out of the way and move on to things of an unsomber nature. “All that is true, but one of the last things Toste and I discussed afore his… afore the battle… was returning home to make peace with my father.”
“So, you will do this in honor of your brother.”
Well, that is like a dose of cold water on my randiness. Why must women ask so many questions? Vagn sighed deeply, no longer in such a lustsome mood. “Nay! I will do it to find my brother. If he is alive, he will make his way there.”
She gasped. “Oh, Vagn, you cannot go on believing that Toste survived. ‘Tis impossible. Father said you were the only living Viking he saw that day, and you had been left for dead.”
Do not dash my hopes so easily, m’lady. Do not. “My horse survived,” he insisted stubbornly.
“And because this beast made it through the battle, you believe Toste did, too?” She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.
Vagn decided to change the course of this way-too-personal discussion. “Do not call Clod a beast. It hurts his pride. See how he hangs his head.” Actually, Clod was munching on some oats at his feet.
She smiled at his teasing and made a little curtsy of apology to his horse. Perhaps to him, as well.
He liked her smile. He liked the mouth that formed the smile. He liked what he could do with that smiling mouth… if she would just stop talking. “It is not just Clod that gives me hope,” he said, somber again. “It’s a feeling I have that Toste is not dead.”
“The headaches?”
“That and much more. Toste and I have this connection, like an invisible thread. Each of us can sense when the other is happy or sad or in trouble.” He shrugged, then laughed. “This morning I got a thickening of a sudden, and all I had been doing was shaving off my face hairs.”
“A thickening?” she asked, frowning.
Holy Thor! The lady is twenty and eight years old, and she does not know what a thickening is. He waved a hand toward his nether region, which was hardening even more just at the mention of itself. Well, that should clearly show her where my thoughts dwell.
“Oh,” she said, face flaming. Then she raised her chin haughtily and said, “Surely you two did not share the same… uh, bed pleasures… from a distance.”
He grinned. “We ne’er did in the past, but as sure as snow is cold I felt it this time. My brother is with a woman and enjoying himself. I would bet my life on it.”
“Seems to me that men get… those things… without much provocation, like a belch or a sneeze.”
He grinned. “There is no similarity between a thickening and a belch or a sneeze, believe you me.”
She waved a hand as if to dismiss the disagreeable subject.
It wasn’t disagreeable to him.
“It would be foolish to make the trip now. As you know, the winter freeze hits the Norselands much earlier than here. Even if you could find a ship to travel the stormy seas and ice-covered fjords at this time of year, it would be highly dangerous. Would it not be best to wait till spring?”
Vagn put aside his brush and gave her his full attention. In fact, he began to advance toward her.
He saw the moment that Helga realized she was alone with him in the barn, dark except for two wall torches attached to the horse stall. She backed up till her shoulders hit the wall with a thud.
“And what would I do with myself here all that time? Twiddle my thumbs?”
She glanced down at his one thumb in panic, as if the appendage were a wicked instrument of erotic torture.
Hmmm. It could be.
He stood so close to her he could smell the cold air on her skin and the wet fur of her cloak.