stars showing in the remains of the sunset.
“Psst!”
His head snapped round to see a tuft of light brown hair peeping round the side of a house. It quickly moved out of sight.
Hastening over there, he jumped behind the house to find Lini, as he’d expected, waiting for him.
Without speaking, he pushed him back against the wall and kissed him. They were in shadow between houses and there was no one about.
The hot taste of Lini was a release and his senses leapt into awareness as he pressed himself against the lean body of the amber smith. Kissing each other as if they’d never kissed before, it was a while before they could stop for breath, panting.
“We better not spend too long out here,” said Kjartan, and Lini smiled ruefully.
“We’ll have to wait a bit before we go back in.” With a giggle, he indicated the bulges in their trousers.
“How terrible.” Kjartan kissed him again but eventually they forced themselves to stop, knowing the consequences if anyone caught them. They sneaked back into the hall separately, making sure no one saw them together.
Lithasblot continued , the music and dancers merging into a blur as the guests drank more ale and mead, no-one aware of the lovers meeting outside. Then again, blots were always times for secret trysts.
At the end of the night, Kjartan staggered home to his wife, merriness tempered with regret, soothed by his time with Lini and the knowledge he could see him any time.
Lini carried his son home and Halldora carried their daughter. No one had guessed his secret; he’d been well fed and watered and had a taste of his lover without any repercussions. Perhaps they were indeed magically protected from harm.
* * *
One evening, however, Kjartan went back to his home for supper, and the house was deserted.
“Your wife’s at her aunt’s. She’s having your baby,” said the next door neighbour, pursing her lips disapprovingly. Kjartan slammed the front door and hurried off.
When he reached Aunt Ymma’s home, he heard pained groans from inside and bit his lip. How selfish he had been, spending all his time making love to Lini while Mildrith needed him more.
He paced up and down outside until eventually he heard a baby’s cry and murmured voices.
The door opened and a midwife looked out. “There you are. I hope you’re proud of yourself. S he was scared stupid.” She glared at him . “You should have been there, t hen I could have come round and she could have had the baby in comfort in her own home.”
“Sorry. I was - it’s none of your business where I was.” He pushed past her to see his wife lying in bed nursing a tiny, wet-haired baby. Mildrith looked pale and drawn, but smiled weakly when she saw him.
He flung himself down to kneel next to her.
“I’m so, so sorry. I should have helped you.” He gazed in awe at the baby’s tiny fingers.
“It’s a girl. We’ll call her Dalla.” Mildrith was too tired to argue so Kjartan nodded guiltily.
* * *
The new baby kept her parents awake every night for the next few weeks. They felt tired all the time , with no respite, even though the midwives visited every day to check up on mother and daughter. Kjartan was helping with the crop harvest now, which meant long days working dawn until dusk. Then , when he got home , his sleep was always broken by the crying baby, but at least as she grew, she cried less each night.
And the endless stream of visitors tired the couple even more.
“It’ll get better,” said Aelfwyn reassuringly, with her brood of three children round her ankles. Alvi was one winter and two summers old and Kjartan found it hard not to shout at him as he threw everything onto the floor.
“Yes,” said Ragnar, holding one of his twin baby daughters, Asta, while Bebbe, their adopted daughter, held Signy. The babies were nearly one winter old. “She’ll sleep better in a few weeks’ time.”
Kjartan sighed. Was this what he really wanted?
“Psst!”
His head snapped round to see a tuft of light brown hair peeping round the side of a house. It quickly moved out of sight.
Hastening over there, he jumped behind the house to find Lini, as he’d expected, waiting for him.
Without speaking, he pushed him back against the wall and kissed him. They were in shadow between houses and there was no one about.
The hot taste of Lini was a release and his senses leapt into awareness as he pressed himself against the lean body of the amber smith. Kissing each other as if they’d never kissed before, it was a while before they could stop for breath, panting.
“We better not spend too long out here,” said Kjartan, and Lini smiled ruefully.
“We’ll have to wait a bit before we go back in.” With a giggle, he indicated the bulges in their trousers.
“How terrible.” Kjartan kissed him again but eventually they forced themselves to stop, knowing the consequences if anyone caught them. They sneaked back into the hall separately, making sure no one saw them together.
Lithasblot continued , the music and dancers merging into a blur as the guests drank more ale and mead, no-one aware of the lovers meeting outside. Then again, blots were always times for secret trysts.
At the end of the night, Kjartan staggered home to his wife, merriness tempered with regret, soothed by his time with Lini and the knowledge he could see him any time.
Lini carried his son home and Halldora carried their daughter. No one had guessed his secret; he’d been well fed and watered and had a taste of his lover without any repercussions. Perhaps they were indeed magically protected from harm.
* * *
One evening, however, Kjartan went back to his home for supper, and the house was deserted.
“Your wife’s at her aunt’s. She’s having your baby,” said the next door neighbour, pursing her lips disapprovingly. Kjartan slammed the front door and hurried off.
When he reached Aunt Ymma’s home, he heard pained groans from inside and bit his lip. How selfish he had been, spending all his time making love to Lini while Mildrith needed him more.
He paced up and down outside until eventually he heard a baby’s cry and murmured voices.
The door opened and a midwife looked out. “There you are. I hope you’re proud of yourself. S he was scared stupid.” She glared at him . “You should have been there, t hen I could have come round and she could have had the baby in comfort in her own home.”
“Sorry. I was - it’s none of your business where I was.” He pushed past her to see his wife lying in bed nursing a tiny, wet-haired baby. Mildrith looked pale and drawn, but smiled weakly when she saw him.
He flung himself down to kneel next to her.
“I’m so, so sorry. I should have helped you.” He gazed in awe at the baby’s tiny fingers.
“It’s a girl. We’ll call her Dalla.” Mildrith was too tired to argue so Kjartan nodded guiltily.
* * *
The new baby kept her parents awake every night for the next few weeks. They felt tired all the time , with no respite, even though the midwives visited every day to check up on mother and daughter. Kjartan was helping with the crop harvest now, which meant long days working dawn until dusk. Then , when he got home , his sleep was always broken by the crying baby, but at least as she grew, she cried less each night.
And the endless stream of visitors tired the couple even more.
“It’ll get better,” said Aelfwyn reassuringly, with her brood of three children round her ankles. Alvi was one winter and two summers old and Kjartan found it hard not to shout at him as he threw everything onto the floor.
“Yes,” said Ragnar, holding one of his twin baby daughters, Asta, while Bebbe, their adopted daughter, held Signy. The babies were nearly one winter old. “She’ll sleep better in a few weeks’ time.”
Kjartan sighed. Was this what he really wanted?
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