Nena by Ann Boelter (digital book reader txt) 📕

up the jar from the tray and returned to her position behind him. She knelt and parted his hair, then began to apply the salve.

“He’s wrong you know,” Jarl said. “We are not so different.”

Nena didn’t respond, just finished dressing his wounds before taking the jar to the tray and returning with the waterskin.

“Why did you run?” he asked, his voice low.

“I had to.”

“Do you carry our child?”

Nena looked at him, surprised he would ask that. “No.”

“Did you…ever?” He seemed almost afraid to ask the last part.

“No.”

He seemed both disappointed and relieved at the same time. She offered him a sip of water.

“Why did you think that I might be with child?” she asked.

“Besides the obvious reasons?” He smiled. He wanted so badly to touch her. “Altene said you asked for herb to shed the baby.”

Nena frowned.

“Is that not true?” he asked.

“No.”

Jarl swore under his breath.

“It is not without all truth,” Nena admitted. “It was Altene’s idea for me to choose you to facilitate my escape. If I would do it, she agreed to give me the herb to keep your seed from taking. But when I ran out the day before the battle, she refused to give me any more. She was worried I had changed my mind and would not leave you.”

“Is that why you ran?”

“No. I had already made plans to escape during that battle. You were taking so many of the men, I knew the camp would be poorly guarded.”

“Well, I must thank Altene—if I see her again, at least for giving you that initial suggestion.” He paused and looked deep into her eyes. “Though if I had it to do over again, upon receipt of that gift, I would cancel all further raids and return immediately to the ships.”

“Does Altene await you then, in the camp outside the cliff gates?” Nena asked.

The question seemed straightforward, but something in her tone made Jarl careful with his reply. “Altene travels with the group, but she is not with me.” He could see Nena was unconvinced. Like Tryggr, Nena did not believe a man would travel with a woman, especially a woman like Altene, if not for his comfort. “Even during the great storm that battered us while we tracked you, she took shelter in Tryggr’s tent, not mine.”

Nena looked at him, her eyes searching his face for the truth.

They were interrupted by heated voices outside. The door swung open. A warrior who Jarl recognized as the one who had volunteered to go find Nena when he was first brought to the council tent, stepped inside. He glanced around the room, his eyes first taking in the tray on the table, then the two of them. He stood in the open doorway, not saying a word.

Nena looked up at him slowly, her gaze hard. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see him, in fact seemed very annoyed. They exchanged a long hard stare. Jarl wondered if he was some personal bodyguard to her father who had been sent to watch them. It would explain their familiarity and her annoyance.

“You have given him word of his fate?” Gentok asked.

“Yes,” Nena replied.

He glanced at the jar. “And dressed his wounds?” he noted, his jaw tightening.

“Yes.”

“Then you should give him the food and leave.”

Nena glowered at him, but he crossed his arms over his chest, clearly not leaving until she did. She moved to the table, picked up the tray of food and set it next to Jarl. “I will return in the morning with more food and water,” she said, then stood and left, brushing past the warrior without acknowledging him.

With a final disgusted glare at Jarl, the warrior turned and followed her.

After a night of fitful dozing, Nena arose early and began preparing another tray for Jarl. She wondered if Gentok would be waiting for her at the cell. Well, if he wanted to sit and listen to them, then so be it; she would not let him run her off again. She pushed the galling memory from her mind and returned her focus back to the tray. She took more care this time to add things Jarl would like: two fresh plums, a pear, and her portion of the venison strips sauteed with mushrooms and onions that Jalla had made the night before—normally one of her favorites, but she’d been unable to eat a single bite.

A courier arrived with the message that her father had called a council to announce his decision on the Northman’s fate. Nena thanked him but didn’t follow. He had not said her father requested her, and she already knew what his announcement would be. Instead she looked around for anything else she might add to the tray.

“What are you doing?” Jalla asked, sleepily. The arrival of the messenger had awakened her, but Exanthia still slept.

“Taking food to the Northman,” Nena replied.

“Why?”

“Because he needs to eat. Or do we not feed prisoners now?” Nena snapped at what she perceived to be Jalla’s criticism—still fuming at Gentok ordering her from the cell the night before, like she was an errant child.

Jalla cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, clearly taken aback by Nena’s hostile response. “I only meant, why you?”

“Who else would do it? I am the most appropriate.”

“Given your history, I would disagree and say you are the least appropriate.”

“It is something I must do.”

Jalla considered that, then nodded. Nena knew Jalla mistook her words to mean she was doing it to face her fears, but she did not correct her. Facing her captor to show she was unafraid and fully recovered from anything that had happened to her was acceptable—even worthy of admiration.

“Will you not attend the council to hear his fate?” Jalla asked.

“I already know his fate. I was with Father last night when he decided.”

“And?”

“He is to face Lothor in trial by combat.”

Jalla nodded. “When?”

Nena frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Then you should go and hear.”

Nena hesitated. She didn’t want to know, but knew that Jarl would. She nodded and