CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Och, would ye look at that, Erik’s about tae lose an arm.”
Isolda’s attention snapped to Claricia from where the three of them sat on a stone bench overlooking the sparring grounds—Claricia with young Thorsten drowsing against her shoulder, Ada cradling a sleeping Astrid.
The morning had dawned surprisingly mild for Uist, the grey clouds parting just enough to let thin sunlight through. It caught on the warrior’s blades as they moved through their drills.
“He’s nae goin’ tae lose anythin’,” Ada said without looking up from adjusting the blanket. “Magnus says Erik could be half-asleep and still best most.”
“Aye, but Ivar’s gotthatlook about him.”
Isolda followed Claricia’s gaze to where the Raven circled the Wolf with predatory focus, his blade testing, probing. Erik barely moved, yet met each strike with a precision that came from years of survival.
“What look?” Isolda asked.
“The one that say’s he’s about tae dae somethin’ that’s either foolish, unexpected, or both.”
Ivar feinted left, then spun right with a speed that seemed impossible for someone his size. His blade whistled toward Erik’s ribs, but Erik’s sword met him an inch from contact, the clash echoing across the yard.
“That’s me man!” Claricia clapped her hands.
Isolda found herself smiling despite herself. Being there, watching the men train, listening to Claricia and Ada trading tales about their husbands felt almost normal.
Could this friendship be real?
The thought crept in, unbidden and dangerous in its hopefulness. She’d never had female friends before and the possibility that these two women’s warmth might be genuine terrified her almost as much as it tempted her.
“Where’s Magnus?” Ada asked, scanning the yard.
“There. With Ragnar.”
Isolda’s gaze found him without effort. He stood near the far end, speaking with Magnus and Freyr and the morning light caught the gold of his hair. Even from that distance, she could see the focus in his stance, the way his attention never fully left the warriors even while discussing other matters.
I shouldnae make a habit out of watchin’ him.
She knew she should be looking anywhere but at him, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“Och, he’s quite braw,” Claricia said, pulling Isolda’s attention back. “If ye like that sort of thing, I suppose.”
“I was only observin’—”
Ada’s tone was innocent. “Strange how ye only seem tae observe when he’s in view.”
“That’s nae?—”
“‘Tis fine, Isolda.” Claricia’s smile held understanding. “I spent me first weeks on Skye pretendin’ I didnae notice Erik. Didnae work—he’s a bit impossible tae ignore.”
Despite herself, Isolda felt her lips twitch. “What changed?”
“I decided tae stop lyin’ tae meself about it.” Claricia’s eyes found her husband, her expression softening. “Made everythin’ simpler.”
Isolda looked away, uncomfortable with how easily those women read her.
“He watches ye too,” Ada noted quietly. “When ye’re nae lookin’.”
Isolda’s fingers tightened on the forgotten book in her lap. “Och… he’s just… keepin’ an eye on his… investment.”
“Is that what ye think ye are?” Claricia said, surprised.