Defiant in the Viking's Bed
Joanna Fulford
CONSUMED BY REVENGE – AND DESIRE!Captured by his enemy and chained like a dog, Leif Egilsson has one thought in his mind: revenge. He’ll no longer be beguiled by the treacherous beauty of Lady Astrid, and her innocence, which he so craved, will finally be his. On his escape, this fierce, proud Viking is bent on making her pay the price of her betrayal – in his bed!Only Astrid has the heart of a warrior, and she will not be tamed as easily as he believes…Victorious Vikings No man could defeat them. Three women would defy them!
Consumed by revenge—and desire!
Captured by his enemy and chained like a dog, Leif Egilsson has one thought in his mind: revenge. He’ll no longer be beguiled by the treacherous beauty of Lady Astrid, and her innocence, which he so craved, will finally be his.
On his escape, this fierce, proud Viking is bent on making her pay the price of her betrayal—in his bed! Only, Astrid has the heart of a warrior, and she will not be tamed as easily as he believes.…
Victorious Vikings
No man could defeat them. Three women would defy them!
Get swept away byJoanna Fulford’sstirring trilogyVictorious Vikings
No man could defeat them.Three women would defy them!
In
DEFIANT IN THE VIKING’S BED
proud warrior Leif Egilsson is enslaved by his
enemies and vows his revenge on the woman
responsible. Lady Astrid will become his slave—and will pay the price in his bed!
The thrilling trilogy continues with Finn’s story, coming soon
Securing ships and weapons,
powerful Viking Finn must take a bride
in return. The fiery Lara may have to walk
meekly to the altar, but she’ll fight their
unwanted attraction each step of the way!
And concludes with Erik’s story
When adventurer Erik is forced to reunite
with his estranged wife, Katlin, the warrior
will discover all her secrets—including the
passion that still burns strong between them …
AUTHOR NOTE
While researching ninth century Norway I found an invaluable resource in Heimskringla. It’s good for historical background and even better for the larger-than-life individuals who inhabit its pages. Characters like Halfdan Svarti, Gandalf of Vingulmark and the berserker, Hakke, are a gift for the novelist. I’d never have invented better names than theirs, or imagined half the things they actually did.
While I try to be historically accurate, it can be convenient to have leeway where the facts aren’t known. I deliberately departed from the source only twice: Hakke lost a hand and later fell on his sword when the wound became gangrenous. I’ve given him a swifter end, albeit for selfish reasons. The second deviation concerns the spelling of his name. Originally it was Hake, but this seemed too fishy, even for a villain, so I toned it down with the extra letter.
Writing this trilogy was great fun: Vikings have forceful personalities and strong opinions. I’ve learned to listen to my characters and know when to back down. Trust me: it’s a mistake to argue with an axe-wielding berserker who doesn’t like your game plan.
Defiant in the Viking’s Bed
Joanna Fulford
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JOANNA FULFORD is a compulsive scribbler with a passion for literature and history, both of which she has studied to postgraduate level. Other countries and cultures have always exerted a fascination, and she has travelled widely, living and working abroad for many years. However, her roots are in England, and are now firmly established in the Peak District, where she lives with her husband, Brian. When not pressing a hot keyboard she likes to be out on the hills, either walking or on horseback. However, these days equestrian activity is confined to sedate hacking rather than riding at high speed towards solid obstacles. Visit Joanna’s website at www.joannafulford.co.uk
Previous novels by the same author:
THE VIKING’S DEFIANT BRIDE
(part of the Mills & Boon Presents … anthology,
featuring talented new authors)
THE WAYWARD GOVERNESS
THE LAIRD’S CAPTIVE WIFE
THE COUNTERFEIT CONDESA
THE VIKING’S TOUCH
THE CAGED COUNTESS
REDEMPTION OF A FALLEN WOMAN
(part of Castonbury Park Regency mini-series)
HIS LADY OF CASTLEMORA
CHRISTMAS AT OAKHURST MANOR
(part of Snowbound Wedding Wishes anthology)
Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
For my former writing tutor and mentor, Paul Kane,
who set me on my way and regularly saved me
from myself. Thank you, Paul.
I couldn’t have done it without you.
Contents
Chapter One (#u2655d32b-0044-57a0-b7b8-0ed8fc8d7704)
Chapter Two (#ud4f00ff4-cbc9-5ca8-ab84-21a1e36abd36)
Chapter Three (#u294677b3-c809-5cd8-86d0-41fb8e4fd5dc)
Chapter Four (#ue9e3aaa3-4764-5849-a973-584ec255bc46)
Chapter Five (#u0b3bcae4-ca9d-5c1b-aad5-7e383e6327e8)
Chapter Six (#u5792903a-87d9-5815-89bf-4bbd2973d098)
Chapter Seven (#u3dfdfc0f-4870-5dfb-9eaf-d175252d3227)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Leif Egilsson pulled his dagger free and silently lowered the body of the dead guard. Across the wide clearing in front of him he could see a large camp fire around which a dozen men lounged at their ease, laughing and talking among themselves. Their war gear was piled a few yards off. Behind them was pitched an imposing tent, no doubt sheltering the prince and his closest henchmen. Hard by was a smaller shelter with two guards posted at the entrance. Leif noted their presence with satisfaction.
‘That’s where Hakke will be holding her, my lord,’ he murmured.
Halfdan Svarti nodded. ‘We’ll go in fast and hit them before they know what’s happened. In the meantime, you and your men find Lady Ragnhild and keep her safe.’
‘Depend on it.’
The two men retraced their steps into the trees a little way to where fifty armed warriors waited. Halfdan surveyed them keenly.
‘Take no prisoners. This time we end it once and for all.’
They heard him in wolfish anticipation.
Leif met his brother’s gaze. ‘Ready?’
Finn smiled. ‘Does Thor hurl thunderbolts?’
‘He does today.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, Cousin,’ said Erik. ‘Life has grown dull of late.’
Beside them a grizzled campaigner stroked the haft of an axe. ‘You speak true. There hasn’t been so much as a skirmish for weeks. Skull Cleaver is thirsty.’
‘She shall drink her fill, Thorvald,’ said Leif.
The older man laughed softly. It drew answering grins from those who stood nearby. There followed the muted chink of mail and the sinister whisper of blades unsheathed. Leif smiled, tightening his grip on Foe Bane’s hilt, and then briefly touched the amulet that he wore around his neck.
‘Let’s do it.’
They moved forwards to the edge of the thicket. Halfdan raised his sword aloft and then, with a deafening roar, the whole force broke from cover and hurtled upon the enemy.
* * *
Astrid sat bolt upright, her startled gaze meeting Ragnhild’s. ‘What was that?’
‘I’m not sure. It sounded like...’
The rest was lost, swept aside by a deafening war cry and then confused alarm: shouting, running feet and then the unmistakable clash of steel. Astrid leapt to her feet and ran to the entrance of the tent, pushing aside the hangings to peer out. Her eyes widened.
‘Merciful gods! Where on earth did they come from?’
Ragnhild hastened to join her and then she too stared in dismay at the throng of fighting warriors. ‘Whose men are those? Can you tell?’
‘No, but they’re definitely enemies of Prince Hakke, which means...’
‘They might prove friends to us?’
‘Let’s hope so, my lady.’
Astrid prayed that her words were true and that they might not find themselves even worse off than before. It was hard to see how, but then, nothing was certain. This might mean deliverance or doom. Hakke would not yield up his prisoners easily. Indeed, he might rather slay them than lose them. She swallowed hard. They had no weapons with which to defend themselves; even their belt knives had been confiscated when they were captured. Possibly the prince had not wished to leave temptation in their way. He was right: Ragnhild would have used it on herself before agreeing to his demands and Astrid didn’t blame her. Nor would she have chosen to linger among the present company after her mistress’s demise. Some things were worse than death.
* * *
Leif parried the blow aimed at his head and laid on with a will, driving his opponent back several paces. The defender fought desperately, recovered again and came on, his expression a feral snarl. A wicked thrust was deftly deflected. The blades slid and locked. Leif brought a knee up hard, heard a grunt of pain and saw the man stagger. A second later Foe Bane sank deep in his opponent’s gut. Leif tugged the sword free and darted a swift look around. His gaze fell on a familiar figure some twenty yards off; a warrior whose helm bore the crest of a hunting hawk. He was yelling furious orders at his troops. As the latter piled into the fray the warrior looked round and as his gaze locked with Leif’s, anger became malevolence.
‘You!’
‘As you say, Hakke.’
‘This will not be forgotten. Not this, nor the battle at Eid.’
‘I hope not.’
‘All will be paid for, Leif Egilsson.’
Before they could say more one of Halfdan’s men stepped into Hakke’s path, compelling his attention. Other fighting pairs jostled in. The prince spied his opponent and backed off, lost to view behind the mêlée. Leif hesitated, sorely tempted to go after him. However, his promise to the king could not be ignored and reluctantly he turned away. The others would have to deal with it. He had a more pressing mission.
* * *
The sounds of conflict drew nearer and then the view from the tent was entirely blocked by fighting men. There followed a cry of mortal agony and blood sprayed across hempen fabric. Both women gasped, leaping out of the way as the guard’s lifeless body fell through the opening. Then the hangings were torn aside and a tall figure blocked out the light; a figure clad in chainmail and whose fist wielded a blood-stained sword. He was flanked by several other mailed warriors. The two women paled and retreated, brought to bay at the rear of the tent.
As the intruder advanced Astrid stifled a scream, her heart pounding like Thor’s hammer. Her attention flicked from the naked dripping blade to the darkening gore streaked across the chainmail byrnie and thence to the steel helmet that partly concealed his face. He halted a few feet away and for the space of a few heartbeats his gaze swept both women, cool and assessing. Then he lowered the sword.
‘Don’t be afraid. No harm shall come to you.’
The sensation of relief was so strong it made her feel light-headed. With an effort she mastered it and faced him.
‘Who are you?’ she demanded. ‘What do you want with us?’
‘I want nothing, lady, other than to ensure your safety. The rest my lord will explain himself.’
‘And who is your lord?’
‘King Halfdan.’
Both women regarded him in astonishment. Ragnhild’s hand tightened on Astrid’s arm. ‘Halfdan?’
‘Aye, my lady.’
‘Oh, the gods be thanked.’
Astrid too let out the breath she had been holding, hardly able to take in such a swift reversal of their former ill fortune. Turning to Ragnhild, she saw the same expression mirrored in the other woman’s face.
‘The king is here?’ Ragnhild continued.
‘Nothing could have kept him away, my lady. Your safety and well-being are most dear to his heart.’
‘As his are to mine.’ She paused. ‘To whom do I owe thanks for bringing such happy news?’
‘Leif Egilsson, at your service.’
‘I shall remember that name.’
‘My lady does me honour.’
Just then they heard more voices outside, one much louder than the rest, demanding to know Ragnhild’s whereabouts. Moments later the newcomer strode into the tent, a big man, dark of hair and beard, whose face might have been hewn from rock. He paused and as his gaze came to rest on Ragnhild its expression softened. That look was enough. Ragnhild ran to him and was swept into a close embrace.
‘I thought I’d never see you again, my lord.’
‘No man shall ever take you from me.’ He glanced down at her. ‘Did the brute hurt you?’
‘No, I am well.’
‘I thank Odin for it.’
Astrid looked on smiling, her heart full, happy for Ragnhild and for an outcome so different from the one they had earlier expected.
Presently the reunited couple left the tent, no doubt wanting a little space alone for private speech. Halfdan’s men grinned and watched them go; then took themselves off in other directions.
‘A happy turn of events,’ said Astrid. Then she turned to Leif. ‘But for your timely intervention it might not have been. I too am grateful.’
He paused to make use of the door hangings and wipe his sword clean; then sheathed it. ‘No thanks are necessary. It was a matter of unfinished business.’
‘I see.’
‘Now it is done.’
‘Perhaps there will be peace at last.’
He unfastened the chin strap and removed his helmet. ‘Perhaps.’
Astrid caught her breath, wondering for a moment if Baldur the Beautiful had not just assumed human form. A mane of pale gold hair framed a face remarkable for its strong chiselled lines and planes. His eyes were somewhere between blue and grey, like the sea just after a storm, but much harder to read. Realising she was staring, she dragged her mind back to the conversation.
‘If it comes about I shall know whom to thank.’
He smiled faintly. ‘You have the advantage of me, lady.’
‘I am Astrid, companion to Ragnhild.’
The blue-grey gaze surveyed her from head to toe and back again. ‘A pretty name and most aptly bestowed.’
His expression was both hard to interpret and mildly disconcerting. Had he paid her a genuine compliment or had she detected a faintly mocking undertone? Perhaps it was a little of both. Whatever the truth of it she was keenly aware that everyone else had left the tent; that now she had his undivided attention. While male attention was nothing new, it always made her feel uneasy and resurrected unwelcome memories, so she tried to avoid it. This man didn’t make her afraid as Hakke and his mercenaries had done but there was something about him that disturbed her all the same, and on an entirely different and unfamiliar level. She decided to parry.
‘It is I who am fortunate in having so kind a mistress.’
‘Your mistress is about to become a queen or I miss my guess.’
She smiled. ‘I think your guess is accurate, though perhaps not hard to arrive at.’
‘True.’
‘I believe theirs will be a most happy marriage.’
‘That will make them both lucky and exceptional.’
‘Why should it be exceptional?’ she replied. ‘Plenty of marriages are happy.’
‘It may be so but it is entirely outside my experience.’
‘Then how can you judge?’
‘I was referring to the latter part of your statement, not the former.’
‘Oh.’
The conversation lapsed into an awkward silence made more difficult by the weight of that steady blue-grey gaze. A slow flush of warmth crept upwards from her neck and throat. It was time to bring matters to a conclusion.
‘Speaking of my mistress; I should rejoin her.’ She paused. ‘Will you take me to her?’
‘As you wish.’
He drew the hangings aside and stood back to let her pass. She brushed past him and stepped outside. There she checked abruptly, wide-eyed as she took in the number of the slain. The earth was dark with their blood; its thick metallic reek hung on the still air. Mingled with it were other smells, equally rank. She swallowed hard, trying not to breathe too deeply.
‘Battle isn’t pretty, is it?’ he said.
‘Hardly.’
‘And yet you do not scream or swoon.’
‘Is that what you were expecting?’
‘Had you done so, I wouldn’t have been surprised. Now I am.’
She wondered what he would have done if she had swooned. The possibilities were vaguely disconcerting, like his smile now. Quickly she looked away. ‘The reality of battle is worse than I imagined.’
‘One grows used to it.’
‘I think I could never grow used to it.’
‘A woman shouldn’t have to.’
Astrid had no intention of arguing the point. Instead she looked around, seeking Ragnhild, and located her some little way off, in conversation with Halfdan and some of his men.
Her companion followed her gaze. ‘Shall we join them?’
‘Certainly.’
He placed a hand under her elbow to steer her around the worst of the carnage. The touch transferred unsettling warmth through the sleeve of her gown. She glanced up quickly and saw him smile. The previous awkwardness might never have happened. Aware of him to her fingertips, she looked away and tried to fix her attention on where they were going. They joined the others a few moments later.
The king’s expression was sombre. Astrid felt a twinge of apprehension and directed a quizzical look at Ragnhild. Her friend lost no time in explaining.
‘Hakke isn’t here, Astrid.’
‘No, curse him,’ said Halfdan. ‘When he realised he was heavily outnumbered he slipped away in the confusion. We went after him but some of his men had horses waiting nearby; a second string. I should have foreseen that.’
‘Easy to be wise after the event,’ replied Leif.
‘Since we’d left our own mounts back in the wood the fugitives had a head start. The man’s more slippery than a greasy weasel.’
‘But far more treacherous, my lord. We need to put him under ground.’
‘I have men out looking for him now.’
‘He’ll be heading for his ship. The coast is only a few miles off.’
‘My thought exactly.’
‘With your leave I’ll take my own force and join the pursuit.’
Halfdan nodded. ‘Do it; and may the All-Father bring you better luck.’
Leif bowed to Ragnhild and Astrid and then bade them a brief courteous farewell. With that he turned and strode away. As she watched his retreating figure, Astrid experienced an unwonted sensation of regret, knowing she wouldn’t forget him. He, on the other hand, being bound upon his quest, would already have dismissed her from his mind. Not that it mattered. They were unlikely to meet again. Drawing her mantle closer, she followed Halfdan and Ragnhild towards the waiting horses.
* * *
Leif and his companions reached the coast in time to see the ship heading towards the open sea. Anger mingled with frustration, emotions he was not alone in feeling, to judge from the flinty expressions around him.
‘Hakke will return to his lair and lick his wounds awhile,’ said Finn, ‘but he’ll be back.’
‘And in force, no doubt,’ added Erik.
‘Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now,’ replied Thorvald.
The others were silent, each man inwardly acknowledging the truth of that statement. They had ridden hard, sparing neither themselves nor their mounts, only for this. Leif restrained the urge to curse, knowing it would serve no purpose.
Eventually Finn glanced his way. ‘It’ll be dark soon. What do you want to do?’
‘We’ll make camp here tonight.’
‘I was hoping you’d say that. My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.’
‘Looks like Hakke’s crewmen were before us,’ said Erik, eyeing the charred remains of a fire on the strand beyond. ‘He really had every eventuality covered, didn’t he?’
Thorvald followed his gaze. ‘They were certainly waiting awhile. They’ve even left us some wood.’
‘Thoughtful to the last,’ replied Finn.
‘No, they probably pissed on it before they left.’
In spite of himself Leif grinned. ‘Most like. Even if they didn’t it won’t be enough to keep a fire alight for more than half an hour.’ He turned to the others. ‘Aun, Harek, Bjarni, Ingolf and Trygg—start looking for some more wood. The rest will take care of the horses.’
As the men moved to obey he went down to inspect the abandoned campsite. Contrary to suspicion the remaining firewood was dry. However, when he tested an ember in the makeshift hearth it was barely warm. They were going to have to start again. Brushing a smear of soot from his fingers, he straightened and went off in search of kindling.
* * *
Within an hour they had another fire going and a pile of wood to feed it. The company settled down to eat, breaking out cold rations from the saddlebags. However, conversation was muted, the result of fatigue and disappointment that their quarry had escaped and, once a guard detail was organised, most of the men elected to turn in.
However, although he was tired, Leif found sleep elusive. Hakke’s escape was a serious blow, and likely to have far-reaching ramifications. It might have been prevented had it not been for the need to safeguard the women. He sighed, knowing the thought unjust. They were not to blame and certainly did not deserve to be left to Hakke’s mercy. Lady Ragnhild was an acknowledged beauty, daughter of a jarl and a queen in the making. However, it was not she who lingered in his thoughts.
He couldn’t have said exactly why Astrid should have left a deeper impression. True she was pretty, yet he’d seen other young women as fair; women who had tried much harder to please. He smiled, but its mockery was directed inwards. He couldn’t detect anything remotely flirtatious in her manner. On the contrary, he suspected that her gratitude towards him was in no way influenced by liking. Nor could he entirely blame her. She had been courteous: he had been...abrupt. The subject of marriage was one he avoided when possible since he found it impossible to be impartial. Such discussions always awoke his cynicism, but then, he had nothing to go on except personal experience. Nevertheless, it occurred to him that, since Halfdan’s marriage to Ragnhild was a foregone conclusion, both he and Astrid would be bidden to the feast. That aspect at least was not displeasing. Perhaps he could make amends...
The idea gave him pause. His contact with women in recent years was about money for favours rendered. Astrid fell outside that category which made things potentially tricky. It surprised him that he should even want to see her again: usually his female acquaintances didn’t linger in the mind. The fact that she had might be due in part to the circumstances of their meeting. In part. There was something about her that he couldn’t quite explain, some quality that drew him in spite of himself. Her presence at the feast would make the occasion more interesting and, he decided, much more enjoyable.
Chapter Two
Lady Ragnhild’s marriage to King Halfdan was a splendid affair attended by music and feasting. Both bride and groom looked blissfully happy and had eyes only for each other. Astrid, looking on, thought that was how it ought to be, even though it rarely was. Too often marriages were made without any thought for the personal inclination of the participants. It made her glad for Ragnhild. So fair and kind a lady deserved the love of a good man. Halfdan would treat her well. Having almost lost her, he would know how to value what he had.
The only thing to mar events was the news of Hakke’s escape to Vingulmark, the seat of his power. He still had strong support there, including that of her uncle. A wily politician, he must be gnashing his teeth over recent events, as must the prince. Robbed of a bride and defeated in battle, his anger would be great indeed. He would seek revenge for that, and for his brothers’ deaths. Hysing and Helsing might have fallen in battle but their passing was the excuse that would fuel another uprising, sooner or later. Unless Halfdan pre-empted it...
‘You seem preoccupied,’ said a voice behind her, ‘though I have no expectation that your thoughts were of me.’
Her pulse quickened as she turned to see Leif at her shoulder. The chainmail byrnie was gone now, along with the dirt and gore of battle, and he was clad in a tunic of dark green wool richly embroidered with gold thread at the neck and wrist where the linen of his shirt was just visible. Round his neck he wore an amulet in the likeness of Thor’s hammer. The tooled leather belt round his waist held a fine dagger. He was altogether a most imposing figure.
‘No, they weren’t,’ she confessed.
‘I am crushed.’
She laughed. ‘It would take more than that to crush you, my lord. However, I am sorry to have dashed your hopes.’
‘I’m not convinced that you are sorry.’
‘In truth, not very,’ she replied, ‘but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings as well.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘I suppose I asked for that.’
‘I was thinking about Prince Hakke and what he might do next. I feel sure we have not heard the last of him.’
‘I’m afraid you’re right.’
‘Will he be able to raise another army?’
‘I’m sure he’d like to but, in reality, I think it unlikely. King Gandalf’s force took a hammering at Eid. The survivors will not seek another confrontation with Halfdan if it can be avoided.’
‘So we’re safe.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far; at least not while Hakke lives.’
‘It was unfortunate that he managed to escape.’
‘Yes, most unfortunate.’
Astrid’s eyes widened a little. ‘I did not mean to imply blame.’
His lips twitched. ‘I am relieved. I should not like you to think less of me.’
‘Oh, I could not think less of you.’ As soon as the words were out she winced inwardly, wondering if her tongue had suddenly become disconnected from her brain. She hurried on, ‘What I meant was that I could never be induced to think less of you, because of the great service you have rendered my mistress and me.’
He eyed her askance. ‘I am relieved.’
Astrid could hardly fail to miss the note of irony and wondered if he were really offended.
‘Forgive me. I expressed myself badly.’
‘My pride will doubtless recover—in a month or two.’
Unable to help it, she smiled. ‘Oh, I think it will be much sooner than that, my lord.’
The smile was both mischievous and unwittingly beguiling, like the look in those big violet eyes. All at once Leif found himself staring, realising that she was a lot more than pretty. Intelligent too. It was a rare combination. Perhaps that was why she aroused his curiosity. He took two cups of mead from a passing servant and handed Astrid one.
‘Tell me how you came to be into the queen’s service.’
‘My uncle placed me in her father’s household five years ago. Sigurd Hjort was an ally back then. It was an advantageous situation for me, given my mistress’s connections. She and I subsequently became good friends.’
‘Your uncle?’
‘He is my guardian now. My father died some years ago.’ She sighed. ‘My uncle was ever an ambitious man and it suited him to have a foothold in two camps.’
‘Two camps?’
‘Vestfold and Vingulmark.’
‘I see. Well, he isn’t the first man to hedge his bets thus.’
‘No. In any case I was glad to be out of the way. He is not an easy man to be around.’
‘Do I know him?’
‘Possibly. He is Jarl Einar of Ringerike.’
Leif’s cup paused in mid-air. He had miscalculated; he had supposed her to be of good birth, though possibly a poor relation placed in an advantageous situation. He could never have guessed that her family was among the foremost in Vestfold.
‘An influential man,’ he said.
‘He has influence,’ she agreed, ‘and wealth, and yet it seems the more he has the more he wants.’
‘It’s a common complaint.’
‘So I believe. At all events he holds jealously to what is his. Most of his lands lie just beyond the territory ceded to King Halfdan. Tensions remain high in the region.’
‘I know it. I too have lands there.’
‘You have?’
‘They were granted by the king in recognition of my family’s service to him.’
‘I see.’
‘It makes us near neighbours in that sense.’
‘I have not returned there since and have no wish to do so. Nor do I share my uncle’s political sympathies. My loyalty is to Queen Ragnhild.’
‘That’s understandable in the circumstances, but it may not be an easy position to maintain.’
‘By that I suppose you mean that I am technically still in my uncle’s control.’
‘Just so.’
‘He is too busy to concern himself with me. He resembles my late father in that respect. Only sons were of real interest.’
‘But daughters are useful for strengthening alliances. Nieces too.’
It was the bald truth and unwelcome withal. ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I reach it.’
‘Does the thought displease you?’
‘In principle, no. However, much would depend upon the man.’
‘Of course.’
‘Are you married, my lord?’
His expression changed. ‘No, I’m not married.’
Astrid was aware of having made a false step, and that he might have interpreted it to mean that she had an ulterior motive in finding out. Mortified, she retracted hurriedly. ‘I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It was said out of curiosity alone.’
‘It is no matter.’ He paused. ‘As it happens I did have a wife at one time but the marriage was not a success and it ended a year later.’ To say that it was not a success was a massive understatement, he thought, and the mere mention of it threatened to curdle the wine in his stomach. The spectres of the past were best left alone.
Divorce was not uncommon but she could well imagine that it wouldn’t be easy either. ‘That is unfortunate.’ She paused. ‘Do you have any children?’
‘Not any more. My son died in infancy.’
Gods, this was getting worse. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It was long ago. Now I follow the whale road.’
‘The call of adventure?’
‘Something like that. At all events it suits me well. I shall not take another wife.’
The reply was lightly spoken but it also held a warning, one she would do well to heed. At the same time, and for reasons she could not explain, it saddened her too.
‘However,’ he continued, ‘that does not mean I am incapable of enjoying the company of a beautiful woman.’
‘I’m sure you must have known many such.’
‘Some.’ He paused, surveying her steadily. ‘What of you? Are you betrothed?’
‘No.’
‘Why not? There can have been no lack of suitors.’
There were several answers she might have given, all concerned with deep inner reservations and each more complicated than the last. Instead she sought refuge in evasion. ‘My uncle has more important matters on his mind.’
‘He is remiss.’
‘Perhaps he is holding out for a king, and I shall make as splendid a match as my mistress.’
Although the tone was flippant, she wouldn’t have put such a notion past her uncle. Indeed she wouldn’t have put anything past him.
Leif’s eyes gleamed. ‘What king in his right mind would refuse such an offer?’
‘Kings marry for political advantage. I fear I cannot offer any such.’
‘Kings are still men. Leaving politics aside, it seems to me that you have much to offer.’
Astrid swallowed a mouthful of mead. This conversation was straying into dangerous territory again. ‘You exaggerate my appeal there.’
‘I was speaking for myself.’
‘I regret that I can offer nothing, my lord.’ And particularly not to one who was clearly not over the loss of his wife and had just said he had no intention of remarrying.
‘Not so.’
Before she could reply, another man appeared at his shoulder. Facially he bore a startling resemblance to Leif, although his hair was a little darker. They were much of a height too. Evidently good looks ran in the family.
The newcomer acknowledged her with a bow and then murmured something to Leif. She saw him frown.
‘Pray excuse me for a moment.’
Relief washed over her. ‘By all means.’
As the two stepped aside for private speech, Astrid saw the opportunity to extricate herself and took it, slipping away into the crowd of revellers. The tenor of the recent conversation had left her in no doubt that it was a wise move. Leif was both handsome and charismatic, a dangerous combination and one that had not failed in its allure since she knew perfectly well that she wasn’t indifferent to him. It was also quite clear that what he sought was a little light amusement. She guessed that such a man would have plenty of willing takers too. However, she wasn’t going to be one of them.
* * *
When Leif turned round a minute or so later Astrid was gone. Swiftly he scanned the crowd but could discern no trace of her. At once he was conscious of both disappointment and regret. After the recent conversation he did not suppose it had been done on purpose to increase his interest. All the same, it had, and to a degree that surprised him. However, it was evident that she would not fall easily into his arms either. This evading action was an unwitting challenge, and one that would be met.
‘Pretty girl,’ said Finn. ‘Who is she?’
‘The queen’s companion.’
‘Thor’s teeth, she is out of the usual field. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’
‘I always know what I’m doing.’
‘Even so, it’s dangerous ground, Brother. You risk getting burned.’
‘I’m grateful for your concern, but you of all people should know that your fears are unfounded.’
‘It’s because I’ve been through the same mill that I mention them.’
Leif returned a wry smile. ‘I know.’
‘Someone has to watch your back.’
‘There’s no one I’d rather have at my back. However, this challenge I handle alone.’
‘Ah, like that, is it?’
‘It is.’
‘Well, well. She has lit a fire under you, hasn’t she?’
‘Mind your own business.’
Finn merely laughed. ‘I take that to mean yes, then.’ As he eyed Leif his expression grew speculative. ‘Never tell me the lady is proof against your good looks and charm. I won’t believe it.’
‘She likes me well enough, although she doesn’t know it yet.’
‘I have every confidence in your powers of persuasion. In the meantime, there are other, more willing subjects present. The dark-haired beauty over there hasn’t taken her eyes off you all evening.’
Leif followed the direction of his brother’s gaze and located the woman in question. She returned an inviting smile. He studied her a second or two longer and then looked away.
‘I leave that one to you.’
‘Don’t say later that I didn’t offer you the chance.’
Finn left him and headed across the room. A few minutes later he was deep in conversation with the object of his attention. Leif watched them for a little while and then drank down the rest of his mead, wondering at his own behaviour. The dark beauty had been ripe for the taking, but he felt only indifference—even though, just a few days ago, he would have considered her worthy of his most assiduous attention. He turned away and went to look for another cup of mead.
* * *
Astrid lay awake for a long time, unable to shake off the implications of the discussion that evening. Far from attempting any amorous subterfuge, Leif had made his position quite clear. His interest in her had nothing whatever to do with marriage. If she offered him any encouragement now it would result in her being a mistress, not a wife. Not that she had the least desire to be either of those things. Once, long ago, the thought of marriage to such a man would not have displeased her. Since the married state was inevitable, all girls wanted a handsome, virile bridegroom. Back then it would never have occurred to her to question any of that. Now she did question it. Not that her doubts would carry any weight even if she had voiced them. In any case pleasing her would be the very last consideration when her uncle eventually found her a husband, and nor would she be consulted. Her husband could be old or ugly or cruel, or all three, and it would make no difference to Jarl Einar. He would see her wedded and bedded regardless, and by force if necessary.
Old resentments woke and she tried to imagine a world in which a woman might be free to make her own decisions about such things; a world where she wasn’t subject to the will of powerful men. It was an agreeable fantasy. In the meantime, any dalliance with Leif would be disastrous. They had already spent longer together than was wise and she didn’t want him to take that for encouragement. Moreover, she never wanted him to think of her in terms of a possible conquest. His opinion shouldn’t have mattered. They were mere acquaintances and parting wouldn’t be long in coming once the festivities were done. The knowledge was attended by relief, but mixed with a twinge of regret. Leif was handsome and personable and somehow larger than life. She suspected that he wouldn’t be easy to forget.
Chapter Three
Two days later the first group of guests departed. Now that the wedding celebrations were over the rest would be gone soon enough and life would settle back into its familiar routine. Once Astrid would have felt content with that, but now it induced very different thoughts. Chief among them was restlessness. It had no apparent cause but it was no less strong for that. Perhaps it was a natural consequence of the recent excitement and festivity; one felt the lack when it ended.
She turned away but, unwilling to return to the hall or the bower, headed in the opposite direction instead. A walk might help dispel her present mood. She was so absorbed in thought that she didn’t notice the man until she was almost upon him. When she realised who it was she would have retraced her steps—but by then it was too late.
Leif smiled. ‘This is a pleasant surprise.’
She eyed him askance. ‘A surprise, my lord?’
‘All right, I admit I followed you. Or rather I watched to see which way you were going and then took a short cut.’
‘Why?’
‘I missed your company.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘It’s true. Besides, we never got to finish our conversation the other night.’
‘I believe we did.’
‘If I have offended you I’m sorry for it.’
‘Forget it.’
‘I wish it were that easy. As it is I’ve thought of nothing else.’ He paused. ‘We need to talk, Astrid.’
Her pulse quickened. ‘Everything needful has been said.’
‘No, it hasn’t.’
He surveyed her steadily, waiting. She sighed. Since he wasn’t going to be dissuaded the quickest way to end this might be to let him say his piece. ‘Very well.’
‘I apologise if my manners have seemed rough; it is the result of having spent too long among fighting men. I am out of practice when it comes to gentler speech.’
‘Yes, you are, but it is no matter.’
‘Well, some things are best spoken directly.’
‘Speak, then.’
‘In a few days’ time I leave for my estate in Vingulmark. The place has been left in the hands of a steward and there are many matters requiring my attention.’
The news created a flood of unexpected emotions. After this they really would not meet again. She realised she was going to miss him rather more than she’d thought. ‘Yes, I can see that.’
‘Come with me.’
She stared at him. ‘What?’
‘Come with me, Astrid.’
‘You must be crazy.’
‘Perhaps. What I do know is that I don’t want to leave you behind; that I want you with me.’
His arm slipped around her waist and then he was very much closer. She could feel the warmth of him, breathe his scent. The pulse became a drumbeat. She felt his lips brush hers, light, tentative. The touch sent a shiver through her that was not entirely to do with fear. The kiss became a little more assertive, more seductive, coaxing her mouth open, allowing his tongue to tease hers, persuasive and infinitely more dangerous, awakening sensations she had never known existed. His hold tightened and the kiss became intimate. She could feel the start of his arousal. Desire was replaced by something very like panic and she tensed, turning her head aside.
He drew back a little to look into her face. ‘What are you afraid of, Astrid? You cannot believe I would hurt you.’
She shook her head, not in agreement but in denial, knowing instinctively that he had the power to hurt her very badly. She wasn’t the woman he really wanted.
‘Well, then, what is it?’
‘I won’t go with you to Vingulmark.’
‘Why not?’
‘How can you ask that?’
‘You know how I feel about you, and I think you are not indifferent to me.’
‘You’re wrong.’
‘You’re a poor liar, Astrid.’
‘It’s not a lie.’
‘No? Then look at me and tell me you feel nothing.’
Her gaze met his and yielded. ‘I confess I do like you, and I have enjoyed your company, but there is no future in this. You know that as well as I.’
‘All I know is that I haven’t been able to put you out of my mind since first we met. When I’m awake I think of you; when I sleep you fill my dreams.’
‘I cannot do what you’re asking.’
‘You have no reason to be afraid. I would treat you well; whatever you desire you shall have if it be in my power to give it.’
‘Will you offer me honourable marriage, Leif?’
‘In my experience there is precious little honour to be found there, and I will not deal in false promises.’ His gaze never wavered. ‘I have already intimated as much.’
‘So you did, and I am grateful for that honesty.’
‘I don’t want your gratitude, Astrid. I want you, but I would not have any pretence between us. If you come with me it will be with your eyes open.’
‘They are open and I’m not coming with you.’ You love someone else, she thought.
‘You don’t have to make up your mind now. Take some time. Think it over.’
‘There is nothing to think over. I will not be any man’s whore.’
With that she stepped away from him and hurried away down the path. For a moment or two he watched her go, strongly tempted to fetch her back and at the same time knowing he wouldn’t. What he wanted from her could not be compelled. It still surprised him that he did want her that much. His offer had been an impulse and yet he couldn’t regret making it, even if she had turned him down flat. Realistically he ought to have been better prepared for that. It was also ridiculous to feel quite so disappointed by her refusal.
* * *
Astrid reached the buildings a short time later, barely registering the lathered horses or the group of men outside the hall. She had no wish to see anyone until she had recovered her composure so she ducked around the corner and headed for the bower. The encounter with Leif had left her shaken for many reasons, not least because he was right; she was not indifferent to him. His kiss lingered still. The strength of the attraction she had felt in that brief embrace was profoundly shocking and it could only lead to disaster. Thank all the gods that good sense had prevailed.
On reaching the bower she bathed her face and tidied her hair, by which time she was calmer and better able to face the world. She was about to leave when the door opened to admit Ragnhild. When she saw Astrid she smiled.
‘I hoped I might find you here.’
‘Forgive me. I went for a walk...’
‘Then you will not have heard.’
‘Heard what, Highness?’
‘Your uncle is but lately arrived.’
Astrid stared at her in dismay. ‘My uncle? What is he doing here?’
‘I imagine he will tell you that himself. He wishes to speak with you.’ Ragnhild paused. ‘I wanted to prepare you first.’
‘I thank you. It was a kind thought.’
‘He is in the hall.’
* * *
Astrid paused on the threshold, surveying the newcomers uneasily. There were half a dozen of them, all slaking their thirst with ale. However, she had no problem locating the burly figure of her uncle. Although only just above the average height, he was powerfully built, reminding her of nothing so much as an old bear. Foreboding grew. Then, taking a deep breath, she went in.
Her uncle failed to notice her until his companion gave a discreet cough alerting him to her presence. He looked round. Cunning dark eyes subjected her to a cool and thorough appraisal. Then he nodded in grudging approval.
‘Well, well. The cygnet has become a swan.’
She dropped a polite curtsy. ‘Your visit is an unexpected surprise, my lord.’
‘No doubt.’
‘May I ask what brings you here?’
‘You do.’ He drained his cup and tossed it to a servant. ‘I am come to take you back to Vingulmark.’
Her stomach lurched. ‘My lord?’
‘I have found a husband for you. You’re to be married.’
It was like being punched and, for a moment or two, speech was impossible. The piercing gaze fixed her.
‘Why do you stare at me, girl?’
There were many things she might have said, all of them angry and all of them unwise since their utterance would only create a public scene. Instead she strove for self-control.
‘Forgive me. I...I was just taken by surprise, that’s all.’
He grunted. ‘No doubt. Possibly you thought I had forgotten the matter entirely.’ Without waiting for a reply he continued, ‘I will admit it should have happened sooner, but I have been occupied with other things. However, it has turned out well enough. Your future husband is connected to the most influential family in Vingulmark.’
Astrid licked dry lips. ‘May I know his name?’
‘Of course. You are to marry Jarl Gulbrand.’
She controlled resentment and a sensation of rising panic. Her uncle had spoken the truth. Gulbrand did indeed have a noble name: he was related to the royal house. He was also Prince Hakke’s cousin and, like his cousin, he had an unsavoury reputation, on the battlefield and off it.
‘When is this marriage to take place?’
‘Next month.’
‘But that’s barely two weeks away.’
‘Time enough. We leave tomorrow.’
‘I cannot go so soon. I have duties here.’
The dark eyes narrowed. ‘Your duties here are over. Be ready to leave first thing in the morning.’
It was dismissal. Astrid made her escape from the hall, her mind reeling. Ragnhild caught up with her outside.
‘I’m so sorry, Astrid. It has come as a shock to me too.’
‘Is there no way this can be prevented?’
‘I wish there were, but your uncle is your guardian, not I.’
‘Might not the king intervene?’
‘He has no more jurisdiction in this than I do.’
Astrid blinked back angry tears. ‘Then I am well and truly lost.’
* * *
When Leif looked around the hall that evening he could see no sign of the one he sought. He wondered if she were avoiding him but then decided it was unlikely, since Ragnhild wasn’t present either. No doubt Astrid was keeping her company. All the same, it was frustrating and, if he were honest, disappointing too. Her absence cast an unexpected pall over the proceedings. Until then he hadn’t realised how much he had been hoping to see her; to speak with her; to try and persuade her...
‘What in the name of Tyr One-Hand is he doing here?’
Finn’s voice roused him from his reverie and he followed his brother’s gaze across the hall. Seeing Jarl Einar, he frowned. The jarl’s estates in Vingulmark might be close to Leif’s own lands, but that was the sole extent of their neighbourliness. While there hadn’t been open hostility as such, it was well known that many of Einar’s associates were connected with the royal house of Vingulmark. The defeat at Eid must have come as a blow. He could not have foreseen that, or the subsequent turn of events, when he placed his niece with Sigurd Hjort and his family all those years ago.
‘Good question,’ he replied.
‘I doubt it bodes any good.’
‘He won’t start any trouble here, be assured of that.’
‘All the same,’ said Finn, ‘he’s not a man I’d choose to turn my back on.’
‘You were wise not to,’ replied Erik. ‘All the same, Leif is in the right of it. Einar isn’t here to cause trouble. He’s come to fetch his niece.’
‘Fetch her where?’
‘Back to Vingulmark. Seems she’s to be married.’
Leif was suddenly still. ‘Married?’
Erik nodded. ‘That’s right.’
‘How would you know?’ demanded Finn.
‘Ingolf heard some of Einar’s men talking.’
Finn glanced at Leif. ‘It looks as if your hopes there are dashed, then.’
Leif casually reached for his cup. ‘It does rather, doesn’t it?’
‘Never mind. Plenty more shingles on the roof, eh?’
‘As you say.’
Erik eyed him speculatively. ‘Fancied her yourself, did you?’
It was an understatement, but Leif wasn’t about to confide the fact. Instead he shrugged. ‘You win some, you lose some.’
‘True enough. Besides, Finn’s right. The world is full of pretty women.’
Finn smiled. ‘Do you remember that redhead in Alfheim who...?’
Leif barely heard him, his mind still trying to assimilate what he’d just heard. He hadn’t seen that coming. Nor would he have anticipated his own reaction. He had hoped to have more time to achieve his goal; that Astrid might somehow be persuaded. Not only was he out of time, but the goal was unattainable as well. It engendered a series of unwonted emotions. He smiled in self-mockery. He’d lost. It happened. He just hadn’t expected it to matter quite as much.
* * *
The following morning Astrid left with her uncle and his retinue. Leave-taking had been hard, particularly from Ragnhild.
‘I shall miss you, Astrid.’
‘And I you, my lady.’
The queen embraced her and, lowering her voice, murmured, ‘If ever you need me you know where I am. Don’t forget that.’
‘I won’t forget.’
Ragnhild stepped back and smiled. ‘I wish you a safe journey. May the gods be with you.’
With that the departing group left the hall. Outside, in a cool grey dawn, the horses were saddled and waiting. With a heavy heart Astrid mounted and, having settled herself in the saddle, looked around her, committing the scene to memory, certain that she would never see this place or her friend again. It was then she saw Leif. He was some yards off with a group of other casual bystanders. For a brief interval the blue-grey gaze met hers and she saw him incline his head in acknowledgement. Her present resentment was displaced by sadness and a strange and fleeting sense of loss. Summoning up the shreds of self-control, she replied with a like greeting. The courtesy didn’t pass unnoticed.
‘What is your interest there?’
Astrid started, hearing her uncle’s voice and then annoyance temporarily superseded sadness. She controlled it.
‘I have no interest there. I did but acknowledge an acquaintance.’
It was a lie on both counts, she realised. However, it seemed to satisfy her uncle. He grunted and turned his horse’s head.
‘Come. It’s time to go.’
With that the cavalcade rode away.
Leif watched them go, his face impassive. The men beside him followed suit.
‘Seems like everyone’s leaving all of a sudden,’ said Harek.
Bjarni grinned. ‘The fighting’s over. The feasting’s over. There’s not much to stay for, is there?’
Leif silently endorsed the point, though for rather different reasons. Harek eyed him quizzically.
‘So, what now, my lord?’
‘We leave for Vingulmark,’ replied Leif.
‘Right. When?’
‘As soon as we’ve collected our gear. Tell the others.’
As they took themselves off to do his bidding, Leif lingered a few moments more. The riders were almost out of sight now. He permitted himself a wry smile and then turned away. Bjarni was right: it was over. Now it was time to move on.
Chapter Four
Astrid recalled little of that journey afterwards, only the increasing sense of isolation and dread of the future. Along with that was anger. Was it wrong to want to control her destiny instead of being used in the furtherance of political ambition? Was it wrong to resent being used as a brood mare by a total stranger? Jarl Gulbrand’s reputation and that of his kin did nothing to allay her doubts.
The only bright spot in the gloom was Dalla. The servant woman had looked after her when first she was brought to her uncle’s hall six years earlier, prior to her attendance on Ragnhild, and was the only person to have shown her any kindness there. Apart from the addition of a few more wrinkles, Dalla was unchanged, greeting Astrid with unfeigned pleasure and helping her settle in.
‘I know you’ll not be with us long, my lady.’
‘No, not long,’ replied Astrid. ‘More’s the pity.’
Dalla eyed her shrewdly. ‘Well, I trust we can make you comfortable while you are here.’
‘I’m sure of it and I’m so glad to see you.’
‘And I you, my lady. Who’d have thought it, eh?’
‘Who indeed?’
‘I felt certain that Lady...forgive me...Queen Ragnhild would have found a handsome husband for you by now.’
For no good reason Leif came to mind, the memory vivid and disturbing. Astrid sighed. ‘Unfortunately the queen is not my guardian.’
‘I’m sure there was no lack of willing suitors. You’ve grown to be a beauty and no mistake.’
‘Much good may it do me.’
‘There now. All may yet be well.’
Astrid wished she could share that optimism.
* * *
As Leif had anticipated there was much to occupy him on his arrival in Vingulmark, starting with a thorough shake-up of the existing regime. In the absence of a controlling hand the steward and some of the servants had grown slack. Leif had swiftly disabused them of the notion that matters would continue that way. With Finn and Erik to back his plans, along with thirty others used to a life of action, the old regime was swept aside overnight. When they understood that retribution followed carelessness and sloppy work, the slackers fell quickly into line. Moreover, no one knew when their master or his kin might appear and were thus unwilling to take chances. Within the space of a few days the place became as active as an anthill.
Leif lost no time in familiarising himself with the whole estate. For part of each day he rode out with Finn or Erik, accompanied by a few of his men. While much of the land was arable there was a large area of woodland too, a fact which Finn noted with approval.
‘The hunting ought to be good hereabouts. With your leave I’ll take some men tomorrow and investigate.’
Leif nodded. ‘Be my guest. We could do with some fresh meat in any case.’
‘My thought exactly. Do you want to come along?’
‘Not this time. I’ve got other things to attend to.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Finn.
‘Incidentally, be sure to hunt within our boundary lines. We don’t want trouble with the neighbours.’
‘Jarl Einar?’
‘Amongst others.’
‘As you wish.’ Finn followed his brother’s gaze to the stream that marked the northern limit of the estate. ‘Speaking of Jarl Einar, do you suppose he’ll send us an invitation to his niece’s wedding?’
Their companions grinned.
‘I seriously doubt it,’ said Bjarni. ‘Anyway, would you really want to stick your head in a hornet’s nest?’
‘Not even for a free drink,’ replied Ingolf.
‘Quite right. We’d be about as welcome as pox in a whorehouse.’
The men laughed and, as the group rode on, the talk turned to other things. Leif took no part in it, being otherwise preoccupied. His brother’s facetious question had proved oddly unsettling. In spite of being kept busy from daylight till dusk ever since his arrival, Leif still hadn’t been able to put Astrid entirely out of his mind. She lingered there on the edge of consciousness, only to return in force at those odd moments when he was forking hay or mending a fence and he had let his thoughts drift. She returned at night too after he’d retired, her violet eyes holding sleep at bay. Then he’d remember that brief stolen kiss and the scent and taste of her...
‘Are you all right?’ asked Finn.
Leif looked up quickly. ‘Of course. Why?’
‘You seemed miles away.’ His brother grinned, jerking his head towards the northern boundary. ‘Miles that way, perhaps?’
The reply was succinct and deeply insulting. Finn laughed out loud.
* * *
Astrid avoided her uncle as far as possible and, for the first few days after her return, kept to the bower and immediate environs. However, confinement grew tedious and she began to take a walk each day, re-familiarising herself with the place. Her uncle permitted these excursions but there were always a couple of his men in sight too. His trust only extended so far. It did nothing to improve her mood. Preparations were already underway for the wedding: her uncle was planning a great feast in honour of the occasion and, no doubt, to impress the noble guests who would attend. Three whole hogs were to be roasted, along with haunches of venison and dozens of chickens. The slaughterers were already busy. Her uncle’s fish traps would provide carp, tench and pike. The bakers had been ordered to make scores of loaves; the brewers gallons of ale and mead.
However, it wasn’t the thought of all the food which made Astrid feel queasy. It was the wedding night that preyed continually on her mind and the thought of that unwanted intimacy. She closed her eyes, seeing the barn, the empty stall and her cousin with his breeches open to reveal the swollen jutting spear within. She had stared at it in horrified fascination. He grinned. ‘Wouldn’t you like to feel this inside you?’ Appalled, she had shaken her head and backed away but he grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Come now, you know you want to.’ Swiftly she’d bent her head and sank her teeth into his hand. He cursed but his hold slackened and she tore free of him and ran. She never spoke of it afterwards. It would have caused uproar and it would have been her word against his in any case. All the same, she avoided her cousin whenever possible and when it wasn’t she made sure they were never alone. Disgust was harder to shake off, but as time went on, the incident was relegated to the back of her mind.
She wasn’t entirely sure why it had returned now, except perhaps that, like her marriage, it had involved coercion. She was a grown woman who knew the facts of life, and marriage was one of them. That was all very well when there was mutual consent, but being treated as a chattel was something else, and every instinct rebelled against it. Not that her uncle would care for that. He had the authority to determine her fate and he would make her submit one way or another. She would be forced to marry Gulbrand. There was no other choice now.
No other choice? For perhaps the hundredth time she relived that last conversation with Leif. If you come with me it will be with your eyes open. Having taken a high moral stance over that and spoken about honourable marriage, the same institution was about to be used by her uncle to prostitute her to Gulbrand. How amused Leif would be if he knew. Tears prickled behind her eyelids. He would not promise what he wasn’t prepared to deliver and, possibly, their time together might have been fleeting. I follow the whale road. All the same, she suspected now that a few months with him would be worth a lifetime with Gulbrand. If she had to choose again...
The sound of distant hoofbeats brought her back to reality and she stopped in surprise to see a column of horsemen approaching. There had to be fifty at least. They were too far away for her to make out details but their presence made her uneasy. Could Gulbrand have arrived early? While she didn’t much care for the implications, it was important to find out. Stepping into the lee of the brew house where she could watch unnoticed, she waited.
The column drew nearer, light glinting off helmets and spears. This was the retinue of a nobleman, and one of some importance. It had to be Gulbrand. Astrid’s stomach knotted. The sound of horses’ hoofs and jingling harness grew louder and details began to come into focus. She frowned, her gaze fixed on the man in front. Hakke! Despite her relatively secluded position she stepped back quickly, not wishing to attract his notice. What in the name of all the Aesir was he doing there? She wasn’t naïve enough to suppose it was merely on account of her forthcoming marriage to his cousin.
As the leading riders drew rein in front of the hall Hakke dismounted and Jarl Einar hurried forwards to meet his guest. The two men exchanged a few words and then went inside together. Feeling much disturbed Astrid stayed out of sight and took the long route back to the bower.
She was passing the back of the weaving shed when a servant stepped out in front of her. Astrid checked mid-stride to avoid a collision. The man bowed.
‘Beg pardon, my lady.’
Her heart leapt towards her throat as she recognised the voice. It couldn’t be. She must be imagining things. Her startled gaze scanned the plain homespun garb but the face under the hood was unmistakable like the smile greeting her now. She returned it, albeit somewhat tremulously.
‘Leif! What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see you.’
She glanced furtively over her shoulder, hoping they were not observed. ‘You must be mad.’
‘Perhaps. All I know is that I can’t get you out of my mind. I had to come.’
‘You took a terrible chance.’
‘Not so terrible.’
‘How on earth did you know where to find me?’
‘I’ve been watching the place for a couple of days, waiting for an opportunity to speak with you.’
‘It’s too dangerous for you to be here.’
‘Would it be a matter for concern, then, if I were caught?’
‘Of course it would. How can you ask that?’ She took another swift look around but there was no one else in evidence. Relief mingled with a raft of other emotions.
‘I needed to know.’ He stepped closer, letting his hands ride her waist.
Her heartbeat accelerated. ‘Please, just tell me what you came to say and then get out of here while you still can.’
‘Do you want to marry Gulbrand?’
‘My wishes were never consulted when my uncle arranged this match. The alliance is dear to his heart.’
‘You haven’t answered the question.’
A lump formed in her throat and she looked away.
‘Astrid?’
‘No, I don’t want to marry him.’
‘Then don’t.’ He paused. ‘My offer still stands.’
‘This isn’t fair, Leif.’
‘Fairness doesn’t enter into it, not with men like Einar and Gulbrand. They’ll have you bound fast—if you allow it.’
‘You make it sound like a simple choice.’
‘It is a simple choice, but only you can make it.’
She took a deep breath, trying to order a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts, torn between fear and wanting. Not so very long ago she’d believed this chance lost for ever, and regretted her decision—yet now he’d come back to offer her a lifeline and she was hesitating. It made no sense. Either she was going to trust him or she wasn’t. He had been honest with her so far. Now she needed to be honest with herself.
‘Then I choose you.’
For a moment he was quite still. If she hadn’t known better she would have said he was surprised. Then he bent and kissed her, a gentle salute that set every nerve tingling. ‘I am honoured.’
‘What now, Leif?’
‘Now I must make arrangements to get you safe away from here.’
‘Where will we go?’
‘To my estate in Agder.’
‘Overland?’
‘Only as far as the coast. We’ll take a ship from there.’
‘If we are overtaken...’
‘We won’t be. Your uncle will have no idea where you’ve gone.’
‘It isn’t just him, Leif. Prince Hakke arrived today, along with a large escort.’
He frowned. ‘Hakke, here? Are you certain?’
‘Quite certain. I’d know him anywhere.’
‘That’s something I could have done without.’
‘I don’t like it either. The wedding isn’t for another five days yet. Why should he be so early?’
‘Keep your ear to the ground and see what you can find out.’
She nodded.
‘As soon as all the arrangements are in place I’ll get word to you,’ he continued. ‘Two days at most.’
‘I’ll be ready.’
He stayed just long enough for a parting kiss and then left her. Astrid watched until he was out of sight among the trees. Then the enormity of the decision she had just made set in. It felt terrifying—and yet, oddly, it also felt right. If she were offered a chance to retract and change her mind she wouldn’t do it. Her imagination didn’t extend quite as far as sharing Leif’s bed. She would cross that bridge later.
* * *
When Leif returned to his own hall he lost no time in finding Finn and Erik. First and foremost he needed to take them into his confidence. They heard him in silent astonishment.
‘You’re planning to steal Gulbrand’s bride?’ said Erik.
‘That’s right.’
Finn regarded his brother in grudging admiration. ‘I’ve got to hand it to you, Leif. When you think of a wild idea there’s no limit to your imagination, is there?’
‘There will be nothing wild about it. On the contrary; it will need to be planned and executed with meticulous care.’
‘More likely we’ll be the ones executed with meticulous care.’
‘Why so?’
‘The royal house of Vingulmark is still smarting over its defeat at Eid and the deaths of two princes of the blood. Hakke is robbed of a bride and now you propose to do the like to Gulbrand.’ Finn paused. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Never more so.’
‘I thought you’d given up on this one.’
‘So did I but, as it turns out, I can’t.’ Leif still didn’t know exactly why and so further explanation was impossible.
Finn sighed. ‘I don’t suppose there’s anything that I can say to change your mind, then?’
‘Nothing.’ Leif paused. ‘I’ll understand if you want no part of this.’
‘I’m your brother. I’m already part of it.’
Erik nodded. ‘We’re kin and kin stick together. Besides, we swore an oath as sword brothers.’
‘That we did,’ replied Finn. ‘So if you have a plan whereby we can sneak past Einar’s men, snatch the woman, defeat Hakke’s fifty guards and get away to Agder with a whole skin we’d really like to hear it.’
Leif gave them a wry smile. ‘As a matter of fact I’ve given some thought to that.’
‘Oh, good. For a while there I was afraid we’d have to improvise.’
Chapter Five
Much to Astrid’s relief she was not bidden to attend her uncle or his guest that day or the next and the two men remained closeted together for much of the time. It suited her well enough. Since her conversation with Leif she had been living in a state of suppressed nervous tension and dreaded that her uncle might intuit something amiss. Let him think she was resigned to the match with Gulbrand. If things went according to plan she would be away and clear before anyone knew she was gone.
She hadn’t let herself think further ahead than that; to try and imagine what her life might be like afterwards. If anyone had told her that one day she would be a kept woman, and by choice, she’d have been shocked beyond measure. Now it seemed the only possible course of action. If she had to belong to a man then she would choose Leif and trust that her faith wasn’t misplaced.
When she had given her consent to this she had half expected a triumphant smile from him but it hadn’t happened. His reaction was not of a man taking a whore into his keeping but rather of a nobleman paying court to a lady. Would he treat her with the same consideration in bed? This was a part of the agreement that her mind had glossed over but reality was about to catch up. She would have to give herself to him and, possibly, feign enjoyment. That last sat ill with her because she didn’t want to practise deception with Leif. Perhaps time would help there. Perhaps when she became accustomed to him and her new role—
Her train of thought was broken as the door opened to admit Dalla. ‘Here’s such a to do, my lady. More of Prince Hakke’s men arriving and the servants running around like witless chickens.’
Astrid’s stomach lurched. ‘More of the prince’s men?’
‘Two ships’ crews just sighted. They’ll be here in minutes.’
‘Is Gulbrand with them?’
‘I don’t know, my lady.’
‘Can you try and find out?’
‘Of course.’ Dalla shook her head. ‘It looks as though your uncle intends this wedding to be memorable.’
Astrid frowned. Her uncle never did anything without a reason, and even a wedding didn’t seem to account for such a huge influx of men. The impression was reinforced when, ten minutes later, the newcomers arrived. She and Dalla watched from a distance as the column approached. It bristled with spears. Every man there wore mail and was armed to the teeth besides.
‘Mercenaries,’ murmured Astrid.
‘What are they doing here?’
‘I don’t know but I’d be prepared to swear it has nothing to do with the wedding celebrations.’
‘I’m inclined to think you’re right.’
Astrid watched with misgivings as row upon row of warriors marched in. No green boys these, she decided. They were men grown, seasoned fighters by the look of them, the kind who’d kill without a qualm. She estimated at least a hundred. Their leader was a burly hatchet-faced individual whose dark beard was plaited and interwoven with a strip of red cloth.
‘That’s Steingrim out in front,’ said Dalla. ‘The one-eyed brute on his right is Thorkill. They’ve been here before.’
‘Not the sort you’d want to meet on a dark night.’
‘Not the sort you’d want to meet at all, my lady. Their kind will kill and maim because they enjoy it.’
Hearing the servant give voice to her former thought Astrid’s frown deepened. ‘With these and the men Hakke brought with him before he’s got a small army. What’s he up to?’
‘Nothing good, I’ll wager.’
‘See what you can find out, Dalla.’
* * *
It was late afternoon before the servant returned. Her expression only increased Astrid’s apprehension.
‘What did you learn?’
‘You were right; their arrival has nothing to do with the wedding. They’ve been brought here for a hall burning.’
‘What?’
‘Some of them were openly talking about it earlier. They were virtually straining at the leash.’
The feeling of foreboding increased. ‘Whose hall, Dalla?’
‘Leif Egilsson and his kin. It seems the prince intends to settle a score.’
Astrid paled. ‘When?’
‘Tonight.’
For a second or two Astrid was speechless. Such a possibility had never occurred to her. Only now was the extent of Hakke’s malice apparent. It filled her with disgust. Mingled with that was concern for Leif, and it went deeper than she’d realised.
‘This mustn’t be allowed to happen.’
‘How can you stop it, my lady?’
‘By getting a message to the intended victims first.’
Dalla raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s quite a risk to take for a group of strangers.’
‘Leif Egilsson once did me a service and I am not one to forget such things.’ It was a partial truth only but it would have to serve. The rest was too complex to explain, even to herself.
‘If the prince or Jarl Einar found out...’
‘They won’t find out, not if the matter is handled with care. One man could slip away unnoticed and take a message.’ Astrid paused. ‘All I need is someone who can be trusted.’
‘I know of one person—the stableman, Ari. He keeps himself to himself but he’s reliable. He might be prepared to go.’
‘There’s no time to lose. Go and ask him.’
As the maid hurried away, Astrid glanced through the open doorway where afternoon was merging into early evening. She let out a long slow breath. She had to keep calm. Nothing would be served by panic. If she could get a message to Leif all might yet be well. It would mean some disruption to their plans but surely that was not insurmountable, unless of course he decided to cut his losses and leave without her. That was a possibility. He didn’t seem to be the kind of man to renege on a promise but it was a question of risk. It would be simpler to save his skin rather than hers. After all, it was nothing to him if Astrid had to wed Gulbrand. A man like Leif would have no trouble finding another mistress either. She bit her lip. Would he keep faith with her? Would he come for her?
* * *
Twenty minutes later Dalla returned. In response to Astrid’s quizzical look she nodded.
‘He’s agreed to go.’
Relief rose like a tide. ‘The gods be thanked. I’ll make sure he’s amply rewarded for this.’
‘Let’s hope the warning arrives in time,’ said Dalla.
* * *
Leif reached for a loaf and broke off a sizeable chunk. A day in the open air had given him a keen appetite. Quite apart from the usual chores, he’d also had to put his other plans in train as well. That he’d been able to do so was due in no small part to his brother and cousin and a well-trained crew. If anyone was surprised by the suddenness of their forthcoming voyage it was never mentioned, and the men set about their preparations with a minimum of discussion and the speed born of long practice. Arrangements had also been made to leave a few reliable men in charge of the estate. Everything was in place. All he had to do now was fetch Astrid.
Her decision to come with him still carried with it an element of surprise. He had been quite open about what the relationship would be but she had still elected to go with him rather than marry Gulbrand. It was a courageous choice in many ways. It also raised interesting questions. Was this just the lesser of two evils? He preferred to think that wasn’t the case, that he hadn’t imagined the spark between them. The answer would be evident soon enough, a thought that filled him with a sense of anticipation. He couldn’t recall anything he’d wanted half as much. Did a woman’s value increase in proportion to the risk involved in winning her? If so, their relationship was likely to be a protracted affair.
The torches flared in a sudden draught and he looked up as the oaken door of the hall swung open to admit Trygg.
‘A messenger has just arrived, my lord. Man by the name of Ari. Says he brings important news.’
Leif frowned and lowered his cup. ‘Admit him.’
‘What in Hel’s name does a messenger want at this hour?’ demanded Finn.
‘Good question.’
The question was uppermost in other minds too and around the table conversation died as their shield companions exchanged quizzical glances. Before anyone could say anything more Ari came in and hastened across the hall to the high table.
‘My lord, I am sent by Lady Astrid to deliver a warning.’
‘What warning?’
‘That Steingrim and a large contingent of men are on their way here.’
Conversation died and all eyes turned towards the speaker. Leif’s expression lost all traces of good humour.
‘Steingrim comes here?’
‘Aye, my lord. They mean to attack tonight and to kill all they find.’
The men remained silent and for several moments the only sound was from the crackling logs in the hearth.
Leif’s eyes glinted. ‘How did your mistress find out about this?’
‘Steingrim’s men were openly discussing it.’
‘How many men has he got?’
‘Two ships’ crews of his own, my lord, but Thorkill has brought a third.’
The news elicited murmurs of angry disbelief. Leif’s jaw tightened as he assimilated the implications. In that he wasn’t alone.
‘Hakke doesn’t give up, does he?’ said Finn.
Erik frowned. ‘We should have killed the treacherous bastard when we had the chance.’
‘We’ll get another,’ replied Leif. ‘If not we’ll make one. In the meantime, we’re going to be outnumbered five to one.’
‘Unpromising odds. What are we going to do?’
‘We’ve got no choice but to go.’ Leif thought rapidly. ‘We’ll split up though. Steingrim can’t follow without dividing his force.’
Finn nodded. ‘That’ll make it easier to take them on when we’re ready.’
‘We’ll each choose the time and place for that,’ replied Leif, ‘once we’ve recruited extra swords.’
As the implications sank in, the faces around him were expressive of quiet appreciation.
‘I’ll round up my men and head for Alfheimer,’ said Finn. ‘We have friends there.’
‘I’m for Hedemark,’ said Erik. ‘King Sigelac owes us a few favours. It’s time to call them in.’ He shot a look at Leif. ‘You?’
‘My estate in Agder.’
‘Agder? But didn’t you once say you’d never...’
‘I know, but needs must. I’ll find swords enough there.’
‘No doubt.’
‘Send word when you can.’ Leif paused. ‘In the meantime, let’s arm and make ready to depart.’
Leaving the remains of the meal on the table, the men hastened to obey. Finn paused, looking round the hall, taking in every detail from the carved pillars to the smoke-darkened rafters, his expression compounded of anger and resentment. ‘This place was hard won, yet Steingrim will burn it to the ground in one night.’
‘A hall can be rebuilt,’ said Leif, ‘and we’ll live to fight another day.’
‘When we do, I’ll cut Steingrim’s throat myself.’
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
With a short space of time the company was armed and ready to ride. Leif embraced Finn in a bear hug and then did the like to Erik.
‘Go well, Cousin. We’ll meet again soon if the gods so will.’
Erik nodded and clapped him on the back. ‘May Odin smile upon our endeavours.’
He and Finn mounted their horses and, raising a hand in salute, rode away. Leif turned to his shield men. ‘Go and ready the Sea Serpent. Take her round the headland to Gulderfoss. I’ll meet you there.’
His men regarded him in surprise.
‘Where are you going?’ demanded Thorvald.
‘There’s something I have to do first. I won’t be long.’ He looked at the messenger. ‘Ari, you come with me.’
With that he turned his horse’s head and rode away into the darkness. Thorvald stared after him for a moment; then looked at the others.
‘All right. You heard him. Let’s get going.’
* * *
Leif reined to a halt and surveyed the looming shapes of the buildings that made up Jarl Einar’s holding. Most were in darkness save for the great hall illuminated by flaming cressets. Ordinarily he would have expected to hear the sound of carousing from within but tonight the place was unnaturally quiet. He looked at his companion.
‘Find Lady Astrid and tell her to meet me in the usual place.’
Ari looked round furtively. ‘It’s dangerous, my lord. If you’re found here...’
‘This is the last place anyone will be expecting to see me. Besides, the inhabitants are otherwise engaged tonight.’
‘But, my lord...’
‘Do it, and be very discreet if you value your life.’
As the servant rode away in the direction of the buildings, Leif dismounted and tethered his horse to a tree. Then, loosening his sword in its sheath, he took a circular detour and made his way towards the rear of the weaving shed, making use of deep shadow for concealment. The quiet intensified. The place might have been completely deserted. Hakke must have sent every available man to accomplish his mission tonight. Had he gone with them? Had Jarl Einar? Somehow he doubted it, which meant that the two of them were holed up somewhere waiting for Steingrim to report back. Leif smiled grimly. Unwittingly they had just made it easier to get Astrid out. By the time anyone knew what was happening the birds would have flown.
* * *
As Ari briefly reported the success of his mission, Astrid felt intense relief. Hakke’s plan had failed. At most his men would burn an empty hall. Leif and his men would live to fight another day. However, the leaving had other, more immediate, implications. With an effort she controlled her voice.
‘Did Jarl Leif send any message for me?’
‘Aye, my lady. He’s waiting to speak with you now. In the usual place, he said.’
Her heart leapt. He hadn’t abandoned her. He’d kept faith. Handing Ari a small pouch of coin, she dismissed him with her thanks. Then, taking a swift look around to make sure the coast was clear, she hurried towards the weaving shed. She reached it a short time later and stole silently along the wall to the far corner.
‘Leif?’
The word was scarcely more than a murmur but it did not fail in its effect. A tall figure detached itself from the depths of the shadows.
‘I’m here.’
Pale moonlight gleamed softly on mail byrnie and silver arm rings. The relief at seeing him there was so strong it almost hurt. Mixed up with that was heart-thumping excitement. ‘You did come.’
‘Did you doubt it?’
‘I hoped you would but I didn’t know if it would be possible.’
‘I always keep my promises.’ He paused. ‘Besides, I owe you a debt of gratitude for the timely warning. You took quite a chance.’
‘I’m just relieved that it arrived in time.’
‘Time enough. My men are safe away.’
‘I’m glad of it.’
‘Now we must be gone too.’ His hands came to rest on her shoulders. ‘Do you still want to come with me?’
The touch thrilled through her. His closeness diminished fear. ‘Of course.’
‘It isn’t too late to change your mind.’
‘I won’t change my mind.’
‘Then let’s get out of here. My horse is tethered in the trees behind the barn.’
He took her hand and led the way, retracing his original route. As they passed the bower Astrid felt a fleeting regret that she hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Dalla, but there was no time for delay now. Every moment they lingered carried an element of risk so she hurried along beside Leif, occasionally looking round to make sure their flight was undetected. The holding was silent, almost eerily so. She shivered, just wanting to be away from the place now.
Leif paused in the shadow of a building and glanced down. ‘Are you all right?’
She nodded. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Come, then.’
They ran across the intervening space to the edge of the trees. Astrid breathed a sigh of relief. Leif squeezed her hand, a strong warm clasp that reassured and excited too.
‘Not far now.’
A voice behind them said, ‘Far enough.’
Astrid’s heart leapt towards her throat and she cried a warning as half-a-dozen armed men detached themselves from the shadows. Leif whipped round, reaching for his sword hilt. The blade had barely cleared leather before the first club swung at him. He ducked. The blow aimed at his head connected with his shoulder instead, jarring the length of his arm. He struck out and heard a grunt of pain. One of the attackers reeled backwards. The rest closed in, clubs swinging. He defended himself valiantly but there were too many of them.
Astrid screamed in helpless horror as he went down beneath a rain of blows. He hit the ground and lay still. Appalled, she stumbled towards him, dreading what she would find. Before she reached him strong hands seized hold of her, pinning her arms. She fought it struggling furiously wanting only to get to Leif, but the grip was unyielding. Then she heard the same voice speak again.
‘Take him to the hall. Bring the woman too.’
Chapter Six
Astrid continued to struggle but resistance was futile; her captors were roughly twice her size and strength and the hands that held her might have been made of steel. Half carried, half dragged, she was propelled across the open ground towards the hall. The doors opened to a blaze of torchlight that revealed the group of men inside. The feeling of sick horror increased and she estimated thirty at least; thirty who had never left and had never intended to leave.
Conversation stopped as the newcomers entered and the weight of attention turned their way. The two captives were dragged before the high table and Leif flung to the floor. He lay still. In the light of the torches Astrid could see the wound on his head and the blood darkening his hair and running down his face. Had they killed him? Anger mingled with fear and again she tried to free herself but the grip on her arms was inflexible. Thirty pairs of eyes looked on in amusement. She ignored the grinning faces. There was only one man here whose opinion she had to worry about: with pounding heart her gaze went to the high table where her uncle sat.
Jarl Einar surveyed the unconscious form on the floor for a moment and then turned to the man beside him.
‘Well, well. You were right after all. In truth, I didn’t think he’d come.’
‘You should have more faith, especially since the trap was so well baited.’
Astrid’s attention flicked to the speaker, seated at her uncle’s right hand. A cold lump formed in the pit of her stomach as she recognised Hakke. Like many of those present he was physically impressive with the lean muscular build of the warrior. However, the richness of his clothing set him apart. Garnets glowed like blood in the gold brooch that held his cloak. Black hair fell over his shoulders. He might have been handsome, save for the thin-lipped mouth and steel grey eyes. Their gaze rested on Astrid for a moment.
‘Very well baited indeed.’ He smiled but the expression stopped well short of his eyes. ‘I am in your debt, my lady.’
Astrid glared at him. ‘Tell these oafs to let me go.’
He ignored that. ‘Pray come and sit next to me.’
The words were not an invitation. Astrid’s captor escorted her to the designated place and shoved her on to a chair. Her cheeks flushed with indignation and she threw him a venomous look. His smile widened. She’d have liked to slap it off his face but knew better than to try. Losing her temper would achieve nothing and might make things worse for Leif. She threw another anxious glance his way. Still he didn’t stir. Misgivings grew. How badly was he hurt?
Hakke looked at the prisoner and spoke to his men. ‘Remove his weapons and mail shirt. Then strip him to the waist and bind him fast.’
The task was performed with ruthless efficiency.
‘Fetch a bucket of water and bring him round.’
Jarl Einar regarded his companion in surprise. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to leave him unconscious?’
‘No, I want him to be fully aware of what’s happening to him.’
Although he smiled, the prince’s tone sent a shiver through Astrid. Nor was there any trace of compassion in the steely eyes. The churning sensation in her stomach grew stronger and her hands clenched on the arm of the chair.
Moments later a man returned with a bucket. He dashed the contents over Leif. The injured man groaned and stirred. Astrid bit her lip, torn between anxiety and relief that he wasn’t dead. She darted a look at the men who stood around him. She didn’t recognise any of them—they weren’t attached to her uncle’s retinue. Nevertheless, it took no more than a second to know what they were: sea wolves who fought only for gain and whose loyalty was to the highest payer. Their attention was currently on the prisoner, their expressions feral, each face lit with cruel anticipation.
* * *
A second bucket of water brought Leif to consciousness. For a moment or two he was disorientated, unaware of anything save a crashing headache and pain in his face and ribs. Slowly he became aware of more details: the soiled rushes pressed against his cheek, the smell of stale food and dogs. He tried to move his limbs but couldn’t.
‘Get him up on his knees.’
The voice sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. Then calloused hands seized his arms and hauled him up. He winced as his injuries protested.
‘It’s good to have you back with us, Jarl Leif,’ the voice continued. ‘I should hate you to miss any of this.’
Leif frowned, and looked in the direction of the speaker. With a jolt of recognition he knew who it was.
‘Hakke.’
The prince smiled. ‘Indeed. May I say I’ve been looking forward to this for some time.’
‘We all have,’ said Jarl Einar.
Leif’s gaze flicked that way and his gut tightened as the implications began to dawn. Then, with a sense of shock, he saw who was sitting next to Hakke. For a moment his gaze locked with Astrid’s. She looked pale but, as far as he could tell, she seemed unharmed.
The focus of his attention didn’t go unnoticed. ‘You have good taste, my lord, I’ll say that for you,’ said Hakke. ‘But then, a big fish requires special bait.’ He smiled at Astrid. ‘You have played your part to perfection, my dear.’
She opened her mouth to speak but Leif was before her. ‘What part? What are you talking about?’
‘Your interest there hasn’t gone unnoticed. A beautiful woman is a reliable lure, in this case outstanding. Well done, my lady. Without you we could not have brought him here.’
Leif frowned, his gaze locking with Astrid’s. ‘What does he mean?’
She paled a little more. ‘It means nothing, I swear it.’
‘It means you have been tricked, my lord, and easily too,’ said Hakke. ‘Still, you are not the first to fall for a pretty face and I don’t suppose you’ll be the last.’
Leif glared at him. ‘It’s a lie!’
‘And yet here we are.’
The outwardly pleasant tone belied the enormity that lay behind those words. It fuelled Leif’s anger. Such treachery was impossible, inconceivable. He looked again at Astrid.
She shook her head. ‘You mustn’t believe him, Leif.’
Hakke raised an eyebrow. ‘You are too modest, my lady. After all, it was your message that brought him here tonight.’
Her face went as white as bleached linen as the extent of the game became apparent and, along with that, her unwitting part in it. Her anguished gaze met Leif’s. In it she read anger and something frighteningly like doubt. Surely he couldn’t have swallowed those lies? He must know she would never have done such a thing; that they were using her for their own ends.
She shook her head. ‘That’s not—’
‘Not what he was expecting,’ interrupted Hakke.
Leif’s head thumped painfully. His mind was in turmoil, fighting against Hakke’s words. Astrid could not have done this. She wanted to leave; to escape an unwelcome marriage. There had to be another explanation.
‘Your presumption with regard to the Lady Astrid will be dealt with in due course,’ Hakke went on. ‘In the meantime, I have other bones to pick with you, my lord, beginning with the deaths of my brothers.’
‘They fell in battle,’ replied Leif, ‘and died with swords in their hands.’
‘They fell because of Halfdan Svarti’s greed. He wants Vingulmark and doesn’t care what he has to do to take it.’
‘Had you and your brothers not ambushed him and tried to kill him he might not have been so eager for that confrontation.’
‘We did but defend what was ours.’ Hakke’s eyes glinted. ‘Speaking of which, you have lately robbed me of my bride.’
‘The bride you kidnapped and intended to force into wedlock.’
‘Ragnhild was mine.’
‘Yet she was only too happy to be saved from that fate,’ said Leif.
Hakke’s gaze grew colder. ‘Nothing is going to save you from yours, I promise you.’
‘Then kill me and have done with it.’
‘I have no wish to kill you, my lord. Far from it. I wish you to live for a long time yet, and each day that you live you will think of me.’
The knot in Leif’s gut tightened. ‘What do you mean to do?’
‘I am delivering you into Jarl Einar’s safe keeping, as his bondsman.’
‘Never!’
‘Perhaps we need to put you in the right frame of mind for your new role.’ Hakke snapped his fingers. ‘Fetch the shears.’
A servant returned with the blades. They were the type kept for clipping sheep, sharp-edged and with wicked points. He handed them to one of the men standing guard over Leif. Hakke nodded.
‘Crop his hair in the manner befitting a slave.’
The words were greeted with a mocking cheer that drowned out Astrid’s cry of protest. In rage and desperation Leif fought his bonds but they yielded not a whit. Seconds later his captors flung him face down on the floor and a boot between his shoulders held him there. A large hand grabbed hold of his hair, yanking his head back. Then the shears went to work. By the time they had finished all that remained of the flowing mane was an inch of golden stubble. The audience thumped the table in approval.
Hakke nodded. ‘Now the collar.’
‘No!’ Again Astrid’s voice was drowned out. She tried to rise but a strong hand on her shoulder pulled her back again. Through welling tears she watched as the thick leather collar was fitted around Leif’s neck and riveted shut.
Hakke rose from his chair and strolled across to his prisoner. For a moment or two he surveyed him in silence. Then, unhurriedly, he threw back his cloak and reached for the coiled whip at his belt, shaking it free. The onlookers whistled and cheered.
Astrid turned to her uncle. ‘Stop this, I beg you.’
He eyed her coldly. ‘I’ll do no such thing. His punishment is more than merited. Besides, it will help you to understand what it means to cross me.’
The whip descended, leaving a bloody welt across Leif’s naked back. He writhed but made no sound. Astrid’s knuckles whitened.
Hakke delivered a dozen more strokes and then paused, surveying the man at his feet. ‘If it were solely up to me I’d flog you until your bones showed through your flesh,’ he said. ‘However, Jarl Einar wants you fit for work tomorrow.’ He cast the whip aside and looked at the waiting men. ‘Chain him in the kennel with the other dogs.’
They hauled Leif to his feet and dragged him from the hall. Astrid looked on, her face ashen. Jarl Einar turned to the man behind her chair.
‘Take her to the women’s bower and put a guard on the place.’ Then he looked coldly at his niece. ‘I’ll deal with you later.’
* * *
Leif’s captors shackled his ankle to a great wooden stake and then departed, locking the gate behind them. Several large hounds growled at him but he ignored them, gritting his teeth against the pain in his back and ribs. The bruises on his face were tender now, and one eye was half closed. Cold struck up from the earthen floor where the stench of hound vied with urine and faeces. For a while anger held it at bay but as time passed the chill grew more pronounced, along with a growing sense of dread as the true extent of his predicament hit home. His men would be concerned by now. They would likely guess where he’d gone and why, but, even suspecting something had gone wrong, they couldn’t do anything to help him. Their numbers were too few. The longer they delayed the more precarious their own position would become. When Steingrim found the hall and farm abandoned he’d head for the anchorage. The only sensible choice for Leif’s crew was to sail without him. That way they could escape the intended slaughter and go to Agder to raise the force they needed. Of course, that would take time. Mentally he visualised it all. It would take weeks, perhaps months, to organise, and that was before they liaised with Finn and Erik, always assuming Finn and Erik were successful in their mission. If not... Leif let out a ragged breath. He ran a hand across his shorn head, feeling congealed blood among the stubble. Anger surged and his fingers closed on the rim of the leather collar. Exerting all his strength, he tried to force the ends apart. The rivets held fast. Eventually, with a curse he gave it up.
It occurred to him then that this was just a taster of what his enemies had in store for him. In his mind he could hear Hakke’s mocking voice: I wish you to live for a long time yet, and each day that you live you will think of me. He would do all in his power to prevent any chance of rescue. Nor would it be too hard. Hakke still had numerous allies, men who would be only too pleased to witness the downfall of an enemy. All he had to do was to move his captive elsewhere and keep on moving him at regular intervals so that the trail grew cold and was lost. Leif felt a chill in the pit of his stomach and for the first time experienced something close to fear.
He closed his eyes and suppressed the emotion. It wouldn’t help him. He had to think. His enemies had set a clever trap, but to do it they had needed information. How had they got it? Astrid’s image loomed large at the forefront of memory. Only the two of them had been privy to his plans, unless she had told someone else. Had the scene in the hall been an act on her part? The thought of possible duplicity in her cut like a blade. You mustn’t believe him, Leif. As though in response he saw Hakke’s mocking smile. And yet here we are. Someone was lying and, like it or not, all the evidence appeared to be pointing one way. Doubt flickered into being. Leif’s jaw tightened. In that moment he knew that, no matter what it took or how long, he was going to discover the truth. And if Astrid had been complicit in this there was going to be a reckoning.
Chapter Seven
That night was the longest Astrid could ever remember. All she could think about was Leif, about his rage and pain, and his possible belief that she had been involved in the plot against him. Somehow she must show up the prince’s lies for what they were. In the meantime, Leif must be suffering physical and mental torment. Such a cruel and public humiliation smote at the heart of a man, especially one who was proud and strong. He would not take easily to his allotted role; he would have to be starved and beaten into it, diminished by slow degrees until he lost all will to fight and his spirit was broken. The very idea broke her heart too. Hakke’s revenge would not be swift, but it would be thorough.
Astrid shivered. Her mother’s brother, Jarl Einar, had been a shadowy figure in her life, more often spoken of than seen since he was often away, fighting in various wars. It wasn’t until after the deaths of her parents that he had come to play a larger role. She and her older sisters had been removed from their home and taken to his hall. Magda and Gunnhild were twins, then fifteen years old, and he lost no time in finding them husbands from among his political allies. Nor had he offered them any choice in the matter. Tears and pleas availed them nothing. Both were married off regardless, to older men whose first wives had died and who were certainly not averse to young and attractive replacements. Thirteen-year-old Astrid was alone.
‘You will make a better match than either of your sisters,’ Jarl Einar told her, ‘for you are prettier than they. When you are older I shall marry you to a prince or a king.’
A few weeks later he placed her in the care of his ally, Sigurd Hjort, where, under the tutelage of his lady, she would learn about wifely duty. It was there that she had met Ragnhild. The two had become fast friends. Being both beautiful and spirited, Ragnhild had had many admirers, among them Hakke of Vingulmark. When his suit was refused, he kidnapped her, thinking to wed her by force, only to be robbed of his prize. Leif had played a leading role in that episode. Now Hakke intended to make him pay. Astrid shivered. No matter what happened she must protect Leif. Protect him and help him escape.
* * *
It seemed that others had anticipated her thought. The following morning Jarl Einar sent one of his men to summon her to the hall. Astrid made no demur, being quite certain that her burly escort had been told to use force if necessary. Besides, she needed to find out what her uncle was planning. She might even get a glimpse of Leif. The thought filled her with hope and painful longing.
In the end it was a disappointed hope. There was no sign of Leif anywhere and she reached the hall a few minutes later. Save for a few servants, her uncle was alone. He watched in silence as she approached. Taking a deep breath Astrid looked him in the eye.
‘How did you know Leif would be here last night?’
‘I didn’t know for sure; I guessed, based on information received.’
‘From whom?’
‘You’ve been kept under close watch since your arrival, and my men are vigilant. They do not tolerate traitors either.’ His hand closed round her arm and he drew her with him out of a side door, marching her across the open area of ground beyond. In front of them was an ancient oak tree. As the distance narrowed and Astrid saw the figure hanging from one of the lower branches the bile rose in her throat.
Her uncle had no trouble reading her expression. ‘I see you recognise the traitor.’
‘Ari was no traitor. He was guilty only of doing what I asked him.’
‘And by his actions he betrayed me,’ replied Einar. ‘He has paid the price.’
She looked away, sick to her stomach, understanding now just how naïve she had been, and knowing the guilt of it would never leave her. In that instant she also understood the meaning of hatred.
‘The only reason he was given a relatively quick death,’ he continued, ‘was that he helped deliver Leif Egilsson into my hands.’
Astrid looked up quickly. ‘What have you done with him?’
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