Kaarina: Rejected (Viking Guardians Book 2)

by Kaitlynn Clarkson

  “But he knows not where she is. She could be anywhere.”

  “Bjarke said he overheard Taft talking about his daughter and wanting to force her to return home. Taft is certain that she is in our village.”

  Halvar fell silent. This was a calamity of epic proportions and totally unexpected. He should’ve known that Taft wouldn’t give up. He was too proud to admit defeat.

  “Very well,” he told Torsten. “I will return with you. We will set out tomorrow.”

  Relief flooded over Torsten’s handsome face. “That is heill,” he said. “May Eir1 grant us safety.”

  “I must be going,” Halvar said. “There is much to do and not a moment to lose.” He rose to his feet. “Ahren, would you be so kind as to care for the needs of the young men? They must be ready to leave in the morning.”

  “Of course, my friend. It is grave news they bear. I will do whatever I can to help.”

  “Thank you, Ahren.”

  Halvar strode out the door, grateful for the friendship that had sprung up between himself and his employer. He needed all the help he could get right now. He had to tell Eira of this new development. He knew it would be hard for her to bear and he was glad that she was living with a caring family who would take care of her while he was gone. But first, he had other business to attend to.

  Halvar stood beside Carolus looking across the vacant land a short ride from the village. Snowy pastures gave way to a wooded slope that rose up the mountainside. An icy stream gurgled through the center, flanked on either side by tall trees as it made its way down to the seashore. It was perfect.

  “Why are you selling this land, Carolus?” Halvar asked.

  “I have been using it for pasture for my cows but I have bought a field that’s closer to the village,” Carolus replied. “This one is a little too far for the cows to walk every day.”

  “Well, I like it,” Halvar said. “I will pay the price you are asking for it. And then we will be neighbors!”

  “That suits me, my friend. You will make a fine neighbor!”

  As they rode back to the village, Halvar felt pleased with himself. Now he would own land here and would be able to offer Eira a place to build a home of their own. Perhaps in time, others would join them and create a village much like the one they’d left behind.

  “What brings you here so early in the day?” Eira asked as Halvar entered the kitchen where she had just placed a loaf of bread in the oven to bake.

  He noticed the look of pleasure on her face and his heart smote him as he thought of the news he was about to deliver.

  “Did you see the young men arrive?” he asked.

  “Why, no. I’ve been inside all day doing chores.”

  “Torsten came with the young men.”

  Eira gasped. “At this time of the year? They are fortunate to make it over the mountains!” She shuddered as she thought of the hungry wild animals and deep snow that made the mountains impassable in winter.

  “The snow has started to melt in places,” he said. “But their mission was urgent. Taft is planning to attack the village. He is angry that Kaarina ran away and he thinks she is there.”

  Eira grew still as the implications of this news dawned on her. “Does that mean …?” Her words trailed off as she realized why the young men had come.

  Halvar hated being the cause of the pain and sorrow that crossed her lovely face. He stepped forwards and took her in his arms.

  “I am so sorry, my love,” he whispered, holding her close.

  Tears seeped from her eyes and stained his tunic. “Oh Halvar, that is such a risky journey. And what if Taft …” She couldn’t say the words.

  “I must go, my sváss,” Halvar whispered against her hair. “My people are desperate. Canute is a good village leader but he is a farmer, not a warrior. He would be no match for Taft, especially if Taft has a large force with him.”

  “What shall I do if you don’t return?” Eira sniffed, wiping tears from her cheek.

  “I will return. You have my word.”

  “But there are so many dangers!”

  “Hush, my sváss,” he soothed, then straightened up and looked into her eyes. “When I return, will you marry me?”

  “Oh Halvar, yes!” she exclaimed, a smile breaking over her face.

  He bent his head and claimed her lips in a slow, intense kiss that deepened and brought heat to both of their faces. “I am looking forward to that,” he said, his voice husky. “Would a Christian marriage ceremony suit you?”

  “Oh yes, Halvar! I do not want to wait for all the rituals that must take place before we wed the way our people do! The Christians’ way will be perfect.”

  “That settles it, then,” he said, satisfied. “Our friends here will be happy to know of our decision. This way of doing things is new to us but it is not so strange to them. They will rejoice with us.”

  Halvar kissed Eira again, lingering over her lips with his. “I will remember these kisses,” he said. “The memory will keep me warm at night until we can be together again.”

  “The days will go slowly,” Eira said. “I will spend them thinking of you, my love.”

  Halvar reached into his pocket and drew out a small object wrapped in cloth. “This is for you,” he said.

  Eira carefully unwrapped the cloth to reveal an intricately carved, silver bracelet.

  “Oh, Halvar, this is friðr!” she exclaimed, holding out her arm.

  He took it from her hand and slid it over her wrist. “I am glad you like it,” he said, pleasure on his face.

  “I shall treasure it. Whenever I am missing you, I will look at this lovely baugr and remember your words.”

  “Now I must leave to prepare for the journey,” Halvar said, kissing her again. “I will return in the morning to say goodbye before we leave.”

  CHAPTER 4

  T aft looked around at the men he’d gathered to help him defeat the village of Myrkvior Fjall. They were mostly younger men but there were enough battle-hardened warriors among them to put the fear into any enemy. He smirked. Finally, he was about to take revenge on Halvar. He would be rid of the loathsome man once and for all. And no daughter of his was going to get away with the kind of defiance that Kaarina had shown by running away. She was in for the beating of her life when he caught her. He, Taft, would be undefeated and no one would dare to challenge him again.

  “We must be ready to leave at daylight,” he told the men. “Njǫror2 has smiled upon us and sent warm weather to melt the snow.”

  That night, he and his men camped close to the boundaries of Myrkvior Fjall in a disused barn.

  “We will strike the village at daylight,” Taft told the men. “Remember, we want to take Kaarina alive and kill Halvar. If we need to, we’ll burn them out.”

  Before daylight, the men crept towards the unsuspecting village on foot. Horses would be too noisy and might alert the villagers to their presence. As they reached the edge of the forest, Taft paused and they stood there in complete silence. Nothing stirred in the dim light and Taft felt rage mixed with a savage desire for revenge as he gazed upon the place that had led to his humiliation. A grim smile of satisfaction spread across his face as he pictured victory over the man who had defeated him the first time. He motioned to the men and they spread out in a noiseless advance upon the sleeping village.

  “TYR3!!!”

  The shock of the war cry shattered the village forever. Canute leapt to his feet and grabbed his weapons on the way out the door but it was to no avail. Within minutes, three men were dead outside their homes and horrific screams pierced through the din of battle as the village burned and the villagers tried to escape.

  “Where is she?”

  A huge hand seized Canute and he whirled around to face his attacker, axe about to strike.

  “Taft!” he exclaimed in surprise.

  “Where is she?” Taft demanded again.

  “Kaarina?”

  “Yes, you fool. Answer me before I kill you!�
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  “Kaarina is not here. Halvar took her away where she would be safe.”

  Taft roared with rage and shoved Canute so hard that he fell to his knees.

  “Where did they go?” he yelled.

  “That I know not,” Canute replied. “If you have killed our men and destroyed our village in the search for those two, it has been in vain.” He rose to his feet and spat in disgust.

  Taft was shaking with rage. “That little whore is no longer my kin,” he roared. “I reject the bikkja completely!” He stormed towards two warriors who were standing over a man on his knees, axes raised to strike the fatal blow.

  “Knud! Sten!” he bellowed.

  The two men looked up from their murderous task.

  “Leave that worthless pig alone. Go and round up as many young women as you can. We will sell them at the slave market.”

  “As you wish, Taft,” one of the men replied.

  “We are wasting our time here,” Taft spat in disgust. “Halvar and his whore are not here. We will take the slaves and return to our village. At least we will get some money for them.”

  “We could not find any young women,” Knud reported to Taft half an hour later. “They have been killed by the fire or have run away.”

  “Then we shall leave,” Taft ordered.

  As they disappeared back into the forest, Taft turned for a last look at the fiery ruins of the village. Several bodies lay in front of the burning longhouses and flames leapt from the barns. It was gratifying to know that he’d destroyed the home of his enemy and made it uninhabitable. It didn’t matter to him if the villagers starved; they deserved their fate. They should never have supported Halvar as their leader. Taft might not have achieved what he came to do but the destruction was satisfying nonetheless. Halvar would have to wait for another time.

  Halvar’s horse stumbled through a snowdrift as he and the young men climbed the last ridge before descending to their home valley. It was getting late in the day and he was looking forward to being back at his old home. The journey had been long and arduous, with patches of deep snow lingering in the shadows. The rivers and streams were swollen with meltwater and several crossings had been almost impassable. He planned to stay and defend the village from Taft and his men until the weather was warmer and the journey back to the coast was more manageable. Recent warm weather had made the snow start to melt earlier than usual; perhaps they would have a warm summer this year.

  “It will be good to be home,” he said to Torsten as they rode side-by-side.

  The younger man nodded. “It will,” he agreed. “It has been a long journey and I am looking forward to sleeping in my own house tonight.”

  They started the descent towards the valley floor and Halvar could almost smell the home fires cooking the evening meal. His stomach rumbled as he thought of sampling the cooking of the women of his village. Even the food from his birthplace tasted like home.

  But as they neared the edge of the forest, his stomach clenched with anxiety. Something was wrong. Terribly, awfully wrong.

  As they reached the clearing, the entire group stopped and stared in horror at the scene before them. Most of the village was in smoldering ruins. Several bodies lay among the wreckage and a handful of people wandered aimlessly through the ruins, one clutching his arm and moaning in pain.

  “NOOOO!!!” howled Halvar, urging his horse forward. “NOOOO!”

  Surely he wasn’t too late. Surely he would awaken from this nightmare with fear, his heart pounding and his hands sweaty. His mind refused to comprehend the awful sights that his eyes were seeing. It couldn’t be true.

  But when he reached the first body, the truth hit him with all the force of Odin’s hammer. “Harald!” he shouted, leaping from his horse and bending over the lifeless man whose eyes stared at the sky. He started to sob as he realized that the kindly older man would never speak to him again.

  “Revna!” Torsten shouted. “Revna!” He started to run towards the end of the village, searching frantically for his betrothed.

  The other young men ran to the remains of their homes and tried to search the rubble but the ruins were still hot and smoldering.

  Halvar left the lifeless body of Harald and went to check on the next body. It lay crumpled in a strange position in front of what had been his own longhouse. He couldn’t tell who it was; a blow to the face had wiped out its features, leaving a gaping, bloody hole. He shuddered and smothered the urge to vomit.

  “I can’t find Revna,” Torsten gasped, desperation and fear in his voice. He covered his nose with his hand, trying not to gag on the stench of blood and smoke.

  Halvar looked at him with sorrow. “We were too late,” he said dully. “Taft got here before we did and our people paid the price. I should never have left.”

  “I found Helga and Gertrud,” Leif said, walking up to Torsten and Halvar. “They are too stunned to speak. I cannot get them to tell me what happened or who remains.”

  Halvar thought of the two elderly widows whose homes now lay in ruins. He shook off his own shock and despair as he realized that his people needed him to help them and right away.

  “Are there any buildings left?” he asked Leif.

  “Only the two barns at the far end of the village. One of them has oxen inside.”

  “Well, they will have to do for tonight. The people that remain need shelter. Leif, please check how many people are still here,” Halvar ordered.

  “Of course.” The young man turned and walked away, trying not to look at the bodies as he walked past. They were people he’d known all his life and he hadn’t yet had time to process the enormity of what had happened.

  Halvar turned to Torsten. “Can you ask Arne, Erik and Sten to come to me?”

  “Of course.”

  Halvar looked at him with pity. “Then you may continue your search for Revna. I hope you find her.”

  A few minutes later, the young men stood before Halvar.

  “I need you to help me secure the dead,” he told them. “They deserve respect. If we leave them out here, wild animals might come for them.”

  Erik scrunched his fist into his eyes. “My father is among them,” he said quietly. “I will take revenge.”

  “Now is not the time for revenge,” Halvar said. “The people need us.” He looked at Erik with sympathy. “Your father was a fine man,” he said. “Valhalla will welcome him with open arms.”

  They paused for a moment to gather their emotions together.

  “We must stay strong for the people,” Halvar said. “They need us to lead them. Has anyone seen Canute?”

  “No. Maybe he perished in the fires.”

  “Arne and Sten, go fetch the oxen in the barn and harness them to that cart over there.” He pointed at a wooden cart that had escaped the flames. “We will load the bodies into the cart and cover them tonight. Tomorrow we will bury them.”

  Arne and Sten walked towards the barn, their heads bowed. In one moment, everything they had known all their lives was gone.

  Halvar turned to Erik. “While we are waiting for them, let us check around the longhouses for any dead or wounded. We won’t be able to get close to them yet. They are still too hot.”

  They walked around the first longhouse. Near the rear was another body, this time a woman’s. It appeared that she had escaped the flames only to die of her injuries. Halvar turned her over.

  “Revna!” he gasped.

  Her beautiful features were blackened and her clothes burned to tatters. Halvar felt rage welling up inside him towards the men who had done this. Revna was just entering the prime of her life. She should be about to marry Torsten and live a long and happy life with lots of babies. Instead, they would bury her tomorrow. And someone had to tell Torsten. Halvar wished he could bring his axe down upon the head of the person who had done this. Revenge would be the most satisfying thing he could do right now.

  Several hours later, the dead had been collected and stored in three carts and the
survivors had gathered in the barn. They were fortunate that the owner had enough food stored in the barn that they would be able to survive for a little while. Some of the older women had managed to rescue their blankets and some clothes before the flames claimed them and the young women had returned from their hiding place near the stream.

  “How did you escape?” Halvar asked Thyra.

  “As soon as we realized what was happening, we ran,” she replied. “Liv called us together and told us to run to our hiding place. She knew that we might get taken as slaves.”

  “Revna is dead,” Leif told her.

  She gasped. “I haven’t seen her all day. I was hoping that she got away somewhere else.”

  “We put her in the cart with the others. Torsten is outside, guarding it. He will stay with her all night.”

  Tears gathered in Thyra’s eyes and she turned away silently. On a day when she’d already lost so much, her best friend’s death was another loss that was too much to bear. She slipped outside to be alone.

  Halvar looked around at those that were left. Pallavi was not among them; it was likely that the old woman had been unable to escape the fire. He felt sick as he imagined her, alone, afraid and trapped.

  “What of Pallavi?” he asked. “Did anyone see her?”

  “No,” they replied, one after the other.

  Halvar knew it was a question that they would ask many times as they began to realize who was no longer with them. He counted the survivors and came up with forty people. Forty bodies that needed clothing and feeding with the meagre resources that remained. It was a daunting thought.

  CHAPTER 5

  K aarina felt a sense of satisfaction as she added another woven cloth to the pile to go to the spring markets. She and Emiline had been hard at work all winter, weaving cloth and making leather belts and bags.

  “We will have plenty to sell this year,” Emiline remarked cheerfully as she surveyed their wares. “Thanks to you, I’ve been able to produce more than I usually do.” She stopped and looked thoughtfully at Kaarina. “After we buy more of the materials that we don’t make ourselves, there will be profit. I think it would be fair if you kept half of it. After all, you’ve worked hard and I have far more to sell than I normally do. Yes. That shall be how I pay you.”