Free By Love Enslaved by Phoebe Conn

“I’ll take the falcons out at first light and then see to the horse.” He knew his offer was a reasonable one, but he also had the nagging suspicion that his eagerness to return Sleipner might just be an excuse to see Berit again. That was ridiculous, of course, as he could scarcely encourage tomorrow the friendship he had rejected today, but the haunting memory of Berit’s stricken expression as he had rebuffed her attentions had made him feel guilty all day.
    “Erik?” Dana prompted, thinking the obstreperous slave was the cause of his pensive frown. “You’ll have to take Brendan the clothes right away.”
    “Why? He’s not going anywhere.”
    “I did promise someone would take him to the privy.”
    “I can’t trust that task to one of the servants,” Erik realized instantly. “The belligerent oaf might harm one of them. I’ll see to him myself after supper.”
    “Just remember to take him the clothes so he doesn’t get cold. It would be just like him to fall ill and die on us.”
    Erik couldn’t help but laugh at that dire prediction. “Not even Brendan is that obstinate, Dana. He’d not die just to spite us.”
    Dana’s lovely violet eyes narrowed as her gaze swept over her handsome half brother’s amused expression. “Oh, yes, he is, and I don’t want Jørn coming to me demanding I pay him what he spent on the man.”
    “All right, I won’t forget the clothes, but there must still be enough furs handy for him to keep himself warm until I get there.”
    Dana had completely forgotten about the furs remaining in the storehouse and now felt very foolish she had stopped for even one instant to consider Brendan’s health. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a shrew.”
    Erik leaned forward to plant a light kiss on her cheek. “You never do, dear sister, never.”
    While she feared that wasn’t true, Dana returned his kiss without argument, and the problems Brendan presented solved for the moment, they discussed Soren’s punishment and decided to forbid him to ride for a week. As always, Erik’s level-headed sensibilities calmed Dana’s frayed nerves, and she felt up to returning to the house when they parted a few minutes later. She realized Erik had such a soothing effect on everyone. He was a very competent young man, and while Brendan had provoked him to anger, she was certain the obnoxious slave would have the same disastrous effect on any other man.
    Taking a deep breath, Dana promised herself she would not lose her temper again. No matter what disgusting thing Brendan said or did, she would not react with anger. Instead, she would remain firmly in control of her emotions. She was the mistress and he was the slave. She would not forget that fact nor allow him to disregard it either.
     
     
    With her family seated on either side of the hearth located in the center of the long room, Freya could not help but cast frequent glances toward Haakon’s empty place at her side. As master and mistress of the home, they normally shared one of the wide benches placed between the four central posts which supported the roof. Ornately carved, the columns marked not only the center of the house, but the heart of the family as well.
    Freya missed her husband terribly, and not simply at mealtimes but at every hour of the day and night. She missed the sound of his deep voice and hearty laughter, and longed to again feel the exquisite sensation of his loving touch. They were so close a couple that when he was away she felt only half alive. As a young bride she had learned to focus her attention on her children when Haakon traveled, and that was exactly what she did this night. When she found not only Soren, but Dana and Erik unusually quiet, she encouraged Thora to talk about her day.
    The vivacious ten-year-old finished spreading butter on a thick slab of bread as she began an enthusiastic account of how she had given Brendan a haircut. “His hair is every bit as thick and curly as yours,