Highlander’s Viking Seductress: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance

by Fiona Faris

  She watched as servants meandered past, all chuckling and sniggering at her expense. She heard many of them whisper. They threw insults towards her for being Norse, chortling at the fact a high and mighty warrior who had dared harm their land had been brought so low.

  She would not let them see their words affected her. Even though she had been fulling for two hours at least, she maintained her vigor. She would not permit her new superiors the opportunity to accuse her of slacking in her duties.

  From the barrel's position in the grass close to the wall, she had a good view down to the harbor of Banff, where she and her kin had battled against the Scots. From this vantage point, she remembered her view from the boat when she stood beside Einarr, admiring its beauty. She watched a ship leave the port, preparing to depart with its load, and realized something. The small port performed a healthy trade with the continent. It had to be - for the servants' food still bore spices not found on Scottish land. It seemed there was a route from the little highland pocket back to her home after all.

  Idunn’s feet slowed as she watched the boats moving, concluding it was a possible path to escape. If she could creep onboard one of those ships and conceal herself below deck, she stood a chance of reaching the continent again and finding her home.

  She could return to Signý, to the life she had in Oslo. She could return to Einarr. The thought of Einarr fighting on the battlefield pushed its way into her mind. The image of his stance, the bearing of his skill made her long to be by his side.

  Does he believe I am dead?

  Einarr’s countenance brought her another unpleasant idea. The handsome Highlander, Gavin, had affected her more than she liked to admit. Especially when he’d taken hold of her waist and placed her on the table in one of the cells. The close proximity to someone so beguiling in appearance had made her heart thump faster.

  Why could I never look at Einarr so?

  “Good mornin’.”

  She snapped her head around at the sudden closeness of the voice. As though he had been summoned by her thoughts, Gavin stood nearby. She did not reply; she was too startled. Instead, she returned with full vigor to her duties.

  “I see ye are enjoyin’ yer new responsibilities.”

  “Your belittling does not make me laugh.” She kept her eyes down but lifted her head again a moment later, revolted by the smell.

  “I dinnae intend to belittle ye. Merely to make conversation.” Gavin moved closer towards her, gesturing down to the barrel. “It is one of the most hated duties here.”

  “I am hardly surprised.” She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the squelch beneath her feet. Neither of them spoke for a moment, not until she opened her eyes again to see Gavin standing uncomfortably nearby. “Was there something you wished to speak of?”

  “Aye.” He shifted between his feet and cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask ye how ye are? Ye continuin’ to recover?”

  “I am.” She looked down, ensuring her thighs and the bandage-covered wound were still blocked from view by her dress.

  “And ye like yer new sleepin’ quarters?”

  She made no reply, only offered one dark glare. The servants all slept on beds of straw in the long room Kenna had shown her. She had to sleep in the doorway with the smallest scrap of straw available to her.

  “How are ye settlin’ with the other staff?”

  She was tired of his conversation and more than a little confused by his attempts to ask after her. She concentrated on stamping her feet against the wool, choosing not to reply.

  “Nae so well, then.”

  What did he expect? I am their enemy. They are not going to welcome me with open arms.

  “Are ye eatin’ again? Maldouen said ye were strugglin’ with yer food.” His constant questions were beginning to rile her. “Why are ye ignorin’ me?”

  Because you did not let me die. I should be at Valhalla.

  “Why are you asking me these things?” The harshness of her words made him look away. “I would have thought a slave was beneath the notice of the son of a Laird. He also has little place in standing so near to a task as horrible as this. Does not the smell of urine upset your gentle nature?”

  “Gentle?” He repeated with a surprise, looking back at her.

  “I have heard the gentry in these parts like to stay in their fine rooms.”

  “Then ye daenae ken these parts well. The whole family does their duty here, and our duties are nae always fair.”

  “Are they as foul as this?” She splashed a foot against the water, immediately regretting it as the liquid splashed up to her knee.

  “Perhaps nae as foul,” he said, smirking slightly, “Will ye answer me questions?”

  “Nei.”

  “As ye wish.” He turned and parted from her, walking across the grass with purpose as he headed back towards the keep. She watched him go, just as the temptation to retch took over her again.

  Many of Idunn’s duties were foul, though none quite as gut-turning as fulling. As well as assisting the crofters and the spinners, she had been instructed by the marshal a few days later to aid the squire for the armoury in his duties. She could see the humor in the marshal’s eyes as he had given her the instruction.

  “A Vikin’ warrior cleanin’ the dirt and her own men’s blood from our armour. Aye, there is some comfort in that.”

  She had not replied beyond the heavy frown she offered him. He had chuckled as she walked away, heading for the soldiers’ tents, limping slightly from what a day’s work had done to her healing leg.

  She sat amongst the pile of dirtied armour from the battle, some still blood-stained, others caked in sand and dirt, trying to clean each piece until it shined. She had a bowl of vinegar and sand, designed to buff the armour with a small grey cloth. The vinegar made her eyes sting, and made her turn away from her task in disgust. A few hours into her chore and her clothes were covered in the dirt and specks of dried blood. She knew there were dollops of wet sand on her cheeks and in her hair, but she hardly cared.

  A good day’s work would mean good food, and she needed to stay strong if she were to have her chance of escape. Her place in the armoury offered her another advantage in designing her plan. In the corner of the armoury tent, she could see where the soldiers returned their weapons following practice. She found the swords, pikes, and shields, all laid out proudly across wooden racks.

  If she was to travel far in her escape from the castle, then pilfering from the store would be essential to her survival. She was debating which sword she would take, frustrated that she could not see her own sword that Gavin had taken from her amongst the weapons, when someone interrupted her thoughts.

  Gavin walked into the tent, returning some weapons to the racks. His face and arms were dappled with the sheen of sweat; the sight made Idunn’s gaze linger on him, admiring his figure. Cursing herself for the attention she was giving him, she looked down at her task and dropped one of the armoured shoulder plates against a piece of chain mail. The sudden clatter drew Gavin’s attention.

  “Ah, I see ye have been given another one of the castle’s horrible duties.”

  She was aware of him moving closer towards her across the room, though she kept her gaze down on the armour. She buffed the metal plate in her hand as hard as she could, making her wrist and arm tired with the exertion.

  “Do ye intend to ignore me every time I speak to ye?”

  She looked up to him, raising a single eyebrow as her only reply. She did not care he was the son of a Laird and probably unused to being treated so, she disliked what he had done to her too much to care for respect.

  He stood before her with his arms folded across his chest. He wore a dark tunic, wrapped with tartan, all close-fitting to allow him to move well in battle. Finding her eyes drawn to his figure, Idunn forced her gaze back down to the metal plate in her hand.

  “If ye are to ignore me and everyone else here, ye will have a very lonely existence, laoch.”

  The rea
lity of his words hit home more than she cared to admit, and her hands stilled in their duties.

  “Do you expect me to lead a happy life as your slave?”

  “I would have thought ye would have made the best of a bad situation.” He shook his head and walked past her, looking towards another rack of weapons.

  “The best?” she scoffed, stunned by the prospect, “I am nei more than your prisoner.”

  “Ye are nae a prisoner. Ye are a slave. We give ye work and food.”

  “It is demeaning.”

  “Aye, but it is better than death. Are ye nae grateful to be alive?”

  “Nei.” The sharpness of her word made Gavin flick his head round from his appraisal of the shields. “I wish ye had let me die. Let that soldier behead me on the beach.”

  “I couldnae do that.” Gavin shook his head, holding her gaze with his own. “Is that why ye refuse to speak to me? Because I saved yer life?”

  She tore her gaze from his; it was difficult. The basil green color was quite enthralling. With the finished metal plate in her hand, she walked past him to replace it on the racks of armour, but he followed close behind.

  “I cannae believe this,” he was standing behind her as she set the armour in place. “Ye are angry at me because ye still breathe?”

  She turned around and recoiled away, surprised to find him so close.

  “Or do ye treat all me staff with the same disdain ye show me?”

  She tried to walk past him, but he put an arm in the way – with a hand on the racks behind her head, he blocked her path. She looked back to his face, their close position making her a little breathless. Quickly realizing – Idunn knew she could not escape without a reply. He had blocked her path, but being so close allowed her a better view of his handsome features. The dark auburn hair curled around his ears, tousled from battle practice. The angular jaw and nose were almost regal in their bearing.

  Aye, he has something to him Einarr never had.

  “Speak to me, Idunn.”

  “You cannot force me to like this life.” She looked away from him, down at her feet in anger.

  “I daenae ask ye to like it. I expect ye to make the best of it, as I said before.”

  His words only left her feeling hollow.

  She pushed past him, colliding her shoulder with his arm to move him out of the way. He relented easily, allowing her to move back to her station amongst the dirtied armour. She sat with her back towards him, her attention on the bowl of sand and vinegar.

  She listened as his feet retreated out of the tent. Only when he was gone did she return her gaze to the racks of weapons. Her escape would be soon; it had to be. She just had to choose which weapon to take.

  Chapter Ten

  Gavin caught sight of the river leading down the hill. It was raining beyond the castle window, dappling the river water with small splashes. Amongst the grey was a figure he had come to know all too well. Idunn was wading through the water with her tunic tied around her knees. She was walking towards a particularly marshy section of the water, known well as a good place for leech collecting.

  Before he had thought through his actions, he hurried down the rest of the spiral staircase to the bottom of the tower that housed his chamber. Finding Kenna stood with some of the wool spinners outside in the yard, organizing their work for the day, he tried to slip by unnoticed, but she saw him and called for his attention.

  “Gavin?”

  “Aye?” He came to a stop by the inner curtain gate, looking back at her.

  “Where are ye goin’? I thought ye were practicin’ with the archers today?”

  “Aye, soon.” Gavin’s feet took him away, continuing through the gate. “First, I need to see the stables. One of the horses took ill yesterday.”

  “Ill? Which one?” Kenna stepped forward as though to follow him.

  “It is nay concern, Kenna, I will see to it,” he gestured for her to stay, eager that she would. She appeared to relent a moment later, turning back to the spinners.

  “As ye wish, inform me later if the horse’s condition worsens.”

  “Aye, I will.” He hurried out of the castle walls towards the stables, but just before he reached the stable door, he dived down to the right of the building and continued towards the river. He constantly checked over his shoulder to see if Kenna had followed him, but she had not.

  He found himself doing this more and more. Any opportunity to see Idunn - he would invent a new responsibility or new problem that required his attention, and off he would go to see her. As he reached the riverside, he came to a stop under a yew tree to shelter from the mist-like rain. Through the drizzle and haze, Idunn was wading through the marsh, splashing in the murky brown shallows.

  “How are ye today?” His words startled her. She jumped in the water, darting her head round to find him. She brushed her blonde braid, now damp from the rain, over her shoulder and watched him with those blue eyes. “Maldouen tells me he has removed yer bandages.”

  “Já,” she replied before returning her eyes to the water, wincing from the leeches attaching themselves to her bare legs.

  He urged her to speak again, desperate to have one decent conversation. Yet, no matter how many times he orchestrated a meeting between them, she would either ignore him or throw insults. He would have hoped her disdain would have cooled his ardor for her. Yet he was not so fortunate and was still very much bound to her.

  “Ye shouldnae stay out here too long; the leeches can leave ye faint.”

  She waded through the water, moving towards the riverbank where he stood beneath the yew tree. By his feet was a bucket she was using to hold the leeches. He peered inside to see the bucket was already half full from her endeavor.

  “I am unsure which task I detest the most,” she said as she stopped by the riverbank, bending over and lowering her hands to her legs. By moving into the shallows, she had revealed more of her pale calves and knees. The shape and clear tone of muscle made Gavin’s mouth dry. She started to peel off the black leeches that had clung to her skin. “Fulling or leech collecting. One is sickening, and the other,” she winced, “painful.”

  Relieved she spoke without throwing insults, Gavin offered her a hand to climb out of the water.

  “Come, ye have worked hard enough here. Anymore and ye will be hazy.”

  She looked between the bucket and his outstretched hand, apparently nervous of accepting.

  “I can continue a little longer.” She stepped back into the shallows, and he lowered his hand again, watching her churn up the river bed with her bare feet. As another leech latched onto her skin, she hissed in pain. “I…” She went to speak but hesitated. He stood on the side of the bank, desperate for her to continue. “I see your soldiers perform their drills and practice every day.”

  “Aye, they do.”

  “Do you ever train beyond the castle walls?”

  “Aye, frequently,” he eyed her with suspicion. She was finally speaking to him, yet her questions were strange. “Ye are interested in me soldiers?”

  “I was a warrior,” she shrugged, flicking up a momentary gaze to him, “Such things interest me.”

  “Ye fought well in the battle.”

  “Thank you.” She almost slipped in the water but regained her footing, flinching as more leeches attacked her. “It is strange to not be in training myself.”

  “How often did ye train?”

  “Every day,” she pulled at some of the nearby reeds, rustling more leeches up from their slumber, “Now me skill will wither away.” She clutched onto one of the reeds to help her stand, blinking madly.

  “Ye are growin’ hazy, I can see it.” He moved down the bank, nearer to her. “Come on, Idunn. Ye must come out of the water.”

  “I need to finish the duty.”

  “Ye have already done plenty. Come out.”

  “Nei.”

  “If ye daenae come out, then I will have to go in there after ye.” He gestured with his hand, earning th
e smallest smile from her.

  “I would swim away from you.”

  “I would catch ye.”

  “I could be the faster swimmer.”

  “Ye would lose, I would wager any sum on that,” he chuckled.

  “You would? Now, there is a challenge you have laid down for me.”

  “I am both stronger than ye, and I am nae hazy, as ye are from leeches.”