Nena by Ann Boelter (red white royal blue txt) 📗

water stung her tender womanhood, but the pain was brief, and soon she felt it melting away. She was free. Perhaps not all the way free, but well on her way—the hardest hurdle overcome. And the price had been—she smiled and flushed at the memory—had been more than easy to pay.

As much as she would have liked to stay and enjoy the water, Nena finished quickly. She did not wish him to worry about the length of her absence and have second thoughts about her new freedoms. Everything she did from now on needed to be toward building and maintaining his trust.

“I will need ink,” she said when she returned to the tent.

“I will have Altene find some and bring it to you.” Jarl moved behind her and nuzzled her neck. “You know Altene wished to share you with me, and while I must admit at first the idea intrigued me, I know now, I could never share you with another. Not even a woman could I tolerate seeing bring you to the long moan.”

“You are jealous,” she said and smiled.

“Beyond jealous. You are mine and only mine.”

Until I am gone.

The difference in Jarl was astonishing. He was tender and affectionate, bordering on playful. Throughout the day, his eyes followed her everywhere, as if he feared the previous night had been a dream, and he had to keep verifying it was real. It revealed an almost vulnerable side to him that she had never seen before. Gone was any trace of tension in his face or body. Even when they were interrupted by camp business, his mood remained exceptionally high and his dealings very lenient.

Nena responded in kind. She told herself, as she allowed him to pull her onto his lap and shared wine from his oxhorn cup, that it was to lull him into a false sense of security, and to not arouse his suspicions. But being this close to him was easy. Far too easy.

She expected the camp would pull out after a few days of rest, but when the first scout reported that a potential fourth target had been discovered—one that might be reached from their present location, Jarl was quick to delay their departure. He sent full reconnaissance teams to bring him reports before he made a decision as to the next move.

Altene brought the ink and graciously offered to fill in the circle for her. Nena accepted and bit her lip at the repeated penetration of the inked needle.

At first Jarl hovered nearby, watching the process closely. “Make sure you fill it in plenty dark,” he instructed Altene. “I don’t want there to be any doubt when other men see it. And where will you record my name? Above or below?” he teased. He was full of himself.

Altene laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea before she replied, “Nowhere.”

Undaunted, he persisted, “Perhaps just my initials then. There’s plenty of room for that.”

Altene only shook her head.

“But I thought you said all of a woman’s important life events were recorded,” Jarl persevered.

“And they are; her circle is being filled in,” Altene agreed.

“But no credit given to who was responsible for the feat?” Jarl asked.

“Only when a woman makes the statement of union in front of the village and becomes married is the man’s family line listed there. No one asks a woman who her first union was with. If a circle is filled in and not followed by a husband’s lineage, then it is known that it is something not to be talked about.”

Jarl frowned as he considered her words. There was clearly no way such a statement of union would ever be made. Even if he could convince Nena to say the words, which he realized was a stretch—and at best, a very long way off, she would never stand in front of her village again. Did that mean every Dor who saw her from now on, with the dark circle and no husband marked upon her arm, would assume her first union had been something unpleasant? The thought disturbed him. Even knowing that soon he would take her far away and there would be no other Dor to see it—or that his people would never recognize the significance of a circle with no marks below it, did little to ease his troubled mind.

Nena watched the frown crease his forehead. She knew it meant he was contemplating something very deeply and wondered what he was thinking about. Before he could offer any clues, he left, saying evasively he had business to take care of. Nena wouldn’t have thought twice about it, had his behavior before he left not been so peculiar. She wondered what business he could not attend to in his tent, or what was so important that it needed to be handled now.

Altene shook her head and smiled as he left. Nena was surprised she was not more upset. She wondered briefly if it was Jarl’s unusual boyish behavior affecting her, too, but then quickly discounted it. Altene was happy because her plan was in motion. She was probably already counting down the days before she would return to Jarl’s furs.

“He seems very proud of himself,” Altene commented once he was gone.

“Yes.” Nena nodded.

“And he already allows you to move about unescorted? As we had hoped?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Don’t push it by asking for too much too soon.”

“I know. I won’t.” Nena sat in silence while Altene continued to work on her arm. “Perhaps you could escape with us. I could find a way,” Nena offered.

“Escape?” Altene laughed derisively. “And go where? Back with you to the Teclan? And have them look down on me as you do? My village is long gone. I have nowhere to go.”

“There are other tribes of Klarta.”

Altene shook her head, neither option seeming to please her. “I think not. Do not pity me. Many moons from now when you are gone and lying beneath your grunting Dor husband with his club hands, I will be enjoying Jarl’s