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She leaned back against him, but his rigid leather chest plate jabbed against her spine.

“Hand me your dagger,” he said. “I want nothing between us.”

She did and heard him cutting the laces on the armor behind her. He threw both front and back plates to the ground, returned her knife to her, then put his arm around her waist and pulled her back against the hard rippling muscles of his chest.

“Much better,” he whispered.

Nena settled in close to him. With his cheek pressed against her ear and his arm tight around her waist, she reveled in the warm strength of the man behind her and the energy of the horse beneath her. She sighed deeply, surprised at how, when her future was still so uncertain, she could feel so utterly content. “Where will we go? Where will we live?” she murmured, not really caring what his answer would be, wondering if he even had one.

“As long as we’re together, we are home, and I intend for us never to be apart again.” He paused. “That being said, I have an idea, and I think you’ll like it.” Jarl turned the stallion down the trail toward the cliff gates.

CHEERING MEN RACED out to meet them, converging on them and surrounding the horse in the middle of the no man’s land. “Jarl, you are alive,” Tryggr exclaimed.

“And properly accompanied,” Gunnar noted with a huge smile on his face.

“Did you kill the bastard then?” Tryggr asked, then continued without waiting for a reply. “I knew you would. When she said you were injured, I was worried, but then she said the injury was to your head and I knew you’d be fine. No one is more hardheaded than Jarl, I said.”

“I did not kill anyone.” Jarl smiled. “But all is well. Let’s go have a drink and I’ll tell you about it briefly. Then you’ll need to have the men start breaking camp. If you march straight back to port, you should still have plenty of time to make it home before the rivers freeze.”

“What about you? You’re not coming?” Tryggr asked.

“Nena and I have a few things to take care of here. Then we’ll meet you at the ships. As you know from our trip down here, she can travel quite a bit faster,” he said ruefully. “So we should arrive at about the same time.”

“Where will we sleep? Or not sleep?” Jarl asked, and nuzzled the side of her neck as they arrived back at the outskirts of the Teclan village. “I would offer to share my hut with you, but the accommodations there are fairly sparse,” he teased.

“I don’t know for sure,” Nena said. “Exanthia and I have been staying with Jalla.”

“Well, that won’t do,” he said.

“No, it won’t,” she murmured in agreement.

“The weather is fair; we could sleep outside, but I would prefer for your people not to see what I have planned for you,” Jarl said.

Nena flushed and felt her stomach flip as she imagined what that was going to be. “No. That won’t work either. I’ll come up with something.”

“Make it fast.”

“I will.”

Nena directed him to her aunt’s tent. After handing him back the bag of his belongings and weapons she had held balanced on the horse in front of her, she threw one leg over the stallion’s neck and dropped to the ground. Exanthia came out at that moment carrying Nena’s sleeping furs. She looked nervously at Jarl, then at Nena.

“You do not need to fear him, Exanthia,” Nena reassured the girl. “Jarl is Teclan now—as you are.”

Exanthia nodded. “Jalla has set up a tent for you, this way. All of your things are already there. It is her gift to Jarl for becoming Teclan. I do not have a gift yet,” she confessed in Dor.

“Don’t worry about that. This was all very unexpected.” Nena turned to Jarl.

“My aunt has a gift for you.”

“I have another gift in mind right now, and it does not in any way involve your aunt.”

Nena smiled. “It is your own tent.”

“Then lead the way.” Jarl returned her smile and slid from from the horse’s back. As his feet hit the ground, he stumbled. He grimaced and paused, holding on to the horse to steady himself for a moment.

“Are you alright?” Nena asked, worried.

“Yes.” He nodded. “Just a little stiff and sore. I’m fine. I’ll follow.”

“It is not yet ready,” Jalla informed them as she looked them both over. The insides of both of their legs were covered with dried sweat from the horse. Jarl was covered from head to toe in blood and dirt. “You have just enough time to go to the baths while I finish,” she offered, though her tone let them know it was more than a suggestion. “Exanthia has already placed a clean dress for you in the women’s bath, Nena. Apologies, Jarl, I had no Northman clothes, so there are Teclan clothes for you in the men’s bath.”

“Gratitude for the thought and effort, but I brought a clean change of clothes back with me,” Jarl said. He turned away so the women could not see his face as he dug into his bag, his teeth gritted against the pain.

“Come,” Nena said to Jarl. “I’ll show you where the men bathe.” She led him to a large clay and thatch structure, similar to the cell, but larger, then stopped at the doorway, pointing inside.

“Will you not join me?” he asked.

“No,” she replied with a smile and a small shake of her head.

“Why not? We’re married now.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She glanced around, thankful to find no one close enough to overhear them. “Men and women do not bathe together.”

“Never?” he asked, incredulous.

“No, it is forbidden,” she whispered.

Jarl smiled and shook his head. “That is something we will have to remedy one day. I will take great pleasure in introducing you to a shared man and woman bath.”

Nena flushed and lowered her voice. “You must not say such things where

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