“Rangvald’s raiding party arrived just before the sun rose. They swept in like a Highland storm. There was no time to even sound the warning bells. I dressed and grabbed my sword before running to my parents’ chamber. My father was already coming toward me, and I remember saying ‘I love ye, Da,’ and he answered, ‘I love ye more, lass.’ Those were the last words we said to one another. I moved on to find my mother to take her to the chapel. There was no doubt Norsemen would not respect the sanctity of the kirk, but there was a place to hide beneath the floor under the altar. The floor was made of stone, and the moveable one fit so snuggly, it was impossible tell it moved unless they already knew. We used the secret passages to enter the bailey, and I covered my mother with my targe as we ran to the chapel. We were to the door, when a giant of a man stepped in front of me. I had never seen such a large man, and all my brothers and my father stood close to six and a half feet. He roared at me then laughed. He tried to push me over as he reached for my mother. I brought my sword down on his arm to sever his hand. He was faster than I expected, even with the injury. He drove his fist into my stomach and grabbed my mother. He slit her throat before I had the chance do anything. I sliced through the arm I had already injured and took his hand from him. I tried to run my sword through him, but a searing pain across my shoulder nearly brought me to my knees. Someone shot me with an arrow. The pain seemed to galvanize me, just as it had the beast in front of me. I swung my sword and aimed the hilt at the man’s head. I landed it against his temple, and he tumbled to the ground. I swung around and prepared to launch my knife at whoever held the bow.
“I will never forget that moment. The most handsome man I ever laid eyes on stood before me. He was just as large as the man I’d just fought, but he was so different. He seemed calmer and less angry than the other warriors. He looked as though he didn’t belong with them because he wasn’t just plowing through victim after victim. He was methodically picking off my clansmen, but there was a grace to him I’d never seen in another man. I snapped the arrow from my shoulder as he turned back toward me and raised his bow. I had already drawn my dirk when he prepared to fire again. He lowered his bow when he saw me, but I threw my knife. He shifted to his left and caught the dirk by the handle. I had never seen any man do that other than my father who taught me how to do the same thing. He stalked toward me, and I was sure he would snap my neck, but he pushed me behind him as he looked past where I was standing. I turned back and found the giant was on his feet again. It boggled my mind how the man I’d severed a hand from and hit in the head was back on his feet, once more ready to kill me. I remember every word of every conversation as though it were happening all over again.
“‘Mine,’ was all the man who now shielded me said. The warrior I’d fought laughed and tried to reach for me with his remaining hand. ‘I don’t think so, little brother. I lead this raid, and I shall claim whatever thrall I want.’ I understood enough of the Norsemen’s language to follow along as they discussed making me a slave. I began to back up when movement caught my eye. I looked toward the battlements in time to witness my brother fall from it with an arrow through his chest. I no longer noticed the two men squaring off over me. I ran through the battle to get to my brother just as my father arrived at his side. My father was more aware of what was going on around us than I was. He thrust his targe over me and received a back full of arrows for it. Before I figured out what to do next, a large arm wrapped around my waist and hauled me back into the chapel. I looked up to find it was the man who had shot me but also defended me. He pointed to himself and said, ‘Rangvald. You?’ in broken Gaelic. I looked at him as if he sprouted a second head, but remembered the Norse our priest taught my brothers and me. ‘I’m Lorna. You shot me and you saved me.’ It surprised him that I spoke Norse, but he put me down and told me to hide. None of the other Norsemen had raided the chapel yet. I ran to the altar and slid the stone aside, dropping into the hole below. I slid the stone over it, then someone stood on it. Moments later, the hoard of men entered, knocking over and breaking everything. Voices floated to me, but I didn’t understand everything. I was positive it was Rangvald who stood above me, and he never moved even when other feet came near him. He issued orders to collect everything of value, but he never left my hiding spot unprotected. It felt like I was down there for a lifetime as I remembered seeing my parents and brother killed. I wanted to hate them all, but I marveled at how one of them chose to protect me. It petrified me that he had claimed me. I was determined to end my life before leaving my keep and clan as a slave. When the noise ended, he moved the stone and lifted me out. I looked around, but they had stripped the chapel of everything, even the altar linens. Rangvald watched me as I stepped toward another stone that had a cross etched into it. He didn’t stop me as I prayed, asking God to forgive me for taking my own life. I realize now that Rangvald didn’t guess what I was doing, but he understood when I drew my dirk and pointed it to my chest. To this day, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move so fast, except for perhaps when the bear attacked Erik. He threw himself at me, knocking me down, and sending the blade skidding across the floor. ‘No, Lorna. No. You can’t kill yourself, not after I’ve saved you three times.’ When he said that, and I realized he had saved me thrice, I only nodded. He rolled off me and helped me to my feet and even handed my dirk back to me. I looked at it then him. ‘I will not leave here a slave. If you make me, I will be dead before we reach your boats.’
“Rangvald made me an offer that changed my life in a way not even the raid did. Had my family lived, my father would have arranged a marriage for me. He would have set a price for my hand and then let lairds bid on me either for themselves or their sons. He loved me, but he was responsible for the clan. Alliances protected us from one another, even if they weren’t able to protect us from the Norsemen. Rang promised me I would be a free woman. I would be no one’s thrall, and he would allow me to come and go as I pleased. I impressed him with my Norse because I followed what he was saying. I was honest and told him it frightened me to go, but he was kind when he reminded me I had no one left. All my family was now gone, and the Norsemen had wiped out most of my clan. He was as gentle with me as possible as I considered everything he said. He was right; I had no real reason to stay. It would be more dangerous to stay than to go. ‘What do you expect of me?’ I was afraid of his answer. I expected him to say I would become his concubine or servant, but instead he said, ‘I expect you to live.’”
“He watched over me the entire voyage back to Stjordal, making sure none of the men tried to molest me. He somehow convinced his brother Harold not to kill me for amputating his hand, and he threatened to geld him in his sleep if he claimed me as a thrall. I should have known then that Rang was not cruel like his brother, but he was also not a man to underestimate. When we arrived at their homestead, Rang was true to his word. He ensured I was a free woman. But that was all that he did. He turned me over to his mother, who detested me from the beginning, and carried on with his life. He was polite when he noticed me and kind when others taunted me. He stood up for me more than once, but otherwise, he left me alone. I watched him with more women than I can stomach remembering. I hadn’t any false hopes that he would find me as beautiful as I found him handsome, but it hurt to be abandoned. I knew no one there, and I had left at his suggestion. I had no one at home in Scotland, and no one in my new home. As a free woman, I was permitted to come and go as I wanted and allowed to carry weapons. After I had been there for three months, I was lost, unwanted, and useless. I’d seen the other women train, and I envied them their freedom, their purpose, and the respect they received. I decided I had had enough of being ignored by Rang and everyone else. I was in the training yard the next morning before anyone else. I was warming up when men and women began to show up. They laughed at me as I swung my sword in wide arches. I hadn’t done much with it for almost three months. It was the longest I had gone without training since I was a young child. Rang and Harold arrived, wonde
ring who was being taunted. Harold laughed when he realized it was me, but Rangvald was ready to intervene when I launched my knife at his foot. I pinned the tip of his boot to the ground, just like I had done to the boy when I was a child. He looked up at me in shock then narrowed his eyes, fury beginning to turn his face red. ‘Ungrateful,’ he snarled in Gaelic. ‘Scared?’ I taunted back. He pulled the dirk from the ground and sent it hurtling toward my heart. Unlike he had in the bailey of my home, I did not step aside. I reached out, grabbed the hilt before it reached me, spun it around and charged at him. My targe was on my back, so he was unprepared for me to roll it forward and use it to ram his chest; he had expected either my sword or my knife. He staggered backwards but caught himself, but I was already moving through thrusts and slices that I had been doing since I was ten. One of his men tried to step forward, but he received the hilt of my sword to his nose. Rangvald ordered them all back. We circled one another as I spewed all my pent-up grief and anger at him. ‘You brought me here. Convinced me it would be a better life. What do you do the moment our feet touch the ground? Abandon me to a woman who despises me. Abandon me just like every other person in my life.’ I didn’t even realize what I was saying as the words came out a mixture of Gaelic and Norse. I stunned the crowd, with both my aggressive but skilled fighting and my knowledge of their language. I only used Norse words for the ones I was sure he wouldn’t understand in Gaelic.
“Rang understood me better than I realized. He allowed me to vent my spleen. I said horrid things to him, things to this day I wish I could take back. I called him weak, a man whore, a coward, anything that came to mind that even touched on the truth. He was neither weak nor a coward, though I did think him a man whore. I said them because he was not fighting me like he should have. Our sparring ended when we disarmed one another and held each other in headlock. He had the chance to snap my neck, but I grabbed his groin. After that day, they welcomed me in the training yard. Rang sparred with me and only gave me partners he trusted. He watched for weeks before he was comfortable sparring with someone else while I partnered elsewhere. I appreciated his acceptance and the way he made others accept me, but I would leave the training field alone, just as I had arrived, when everyone else came and went with friends or lovers.
“He found me one day near the fjord. I was sitting looking out at the cliffs and water. I had been crying, but my tears had dried. He took a look at me and understood. He sat down beside me, picked me up, and plopped me into his lap. He didn’t say anything. He looked out at the water just as I had. I stared at him, then turned back to the water. He wrapped his arm around me, and I leaned back. We sat like that for a few hours. Neither of us spoke. Finally, the sun began to set, and the temperature fell. When I shivered, he wrapped his cloak around me. He was the first one to say anything. ‘I know it’s been six moons to the day since you arrived here. You’re unhappy, and that isn’t what I wanted for you. Do you want me to take you back?’ I looked at him, and it was like my chest was caving in. I had fallen in love with him, but he never looked at me the way I watched him look at other women. I was convinced he never would. I was an outsider. But then, I would be too if I returned home. A cousin of mine would be laird now, having come from our outlying land. ‘There’s nothing to go back to. I have no more a home there than I do here. I don’t belong in either place.’ Rang was silent for a long moment before he began to speak. ‘Before I met you, I fought and whored, just as you’ve accused me. I had little reason to do more. I am not my father’s eldest son. I don’t get along with Harold very well, so I avoid him. When I met you, something changed. I caught you attacking Harold when he blocked your escape with your mother. I witnessed the damage you did, and I was obligated to defend him as his brother, so I shot the arrow at you. But he taunted you as he killed your mother. He taunted you to torment you, and something inside of me screamed that this was wrong. You had been valiant and brave, but we outnumbered you. If it hadn’t been Harold, it would have been someone else. When you ran to your brother’s side without care for your own safety, I realized that you would sacrifice yourself repeatedly for your people, for the ones you care about. Then I watched your father do the same, and I understood where you got it from. Thinking you might die where so many other bodies laid was unbearable, along with imagining any man raping your or making you his bed slave. That’s why I hid you. When we arrived here, I wanted you to see I’d told you the truth about being a free woman. I gave you space because I didn’t want you to ever wonder if I meant to trick you or force you to pay for your freedom. I also didn’t want anyone to ever accuse you of being my whore. You needed to grieve, but I know now you haven’t done that, have you?’ I shook my head as I listened to him, unsure of why he was saying all of this. ‘Lorna, you’ve seen what I wanted everyone else to see. You’ve seen the Rangvald that people expect, but I’m not what you assume. When we arrived, I tried to go back to my old life. I tried to pick up where I left off, drinking and wenching. I know you saw that, but it lost all appeal each time I caught sight of you and how lonely you looked. Lorna, I haven’t been with another woman since within a moon of your arrival. I’ve paid more than one woman to keep quiet about me sending them away.’ I remember shaking my head, so confused. ‘I don’t want any of them. I don’t want any woman who isn’t you. But I never wanted anyone to speak ill of you, saying you are my bed slave or concubine. I didn’t want them to claim you bewitched me if I tried to woo you soon after we arrived. I wanted to give you time to adjust. I did all the things I was sure people expected me to do when all I ever wanted were moments like this.’ And he kissed me.”
Lorna paused for the first time in her story to wipe tears from her eyes and to swallow several times.
“Rang admitted he was in love with me, just as I was in love with him. We coupled there for the first time, looking out to where the fjord met the sea. I had never felt more special and cared for than in those moments. He walked me back to the homestead afterwards, and I returned to the small hut I lived in to prepare for the evening meal. When I arrived at his parents’ longhouse, I found him seated with a woman in his lap. He was laughing with her and had his hand on her hip. His mother stepped next to me and informed me that the woman was Rangvald’s companion now. They had been bedding each other for months, and she told me I should never have come. I was one more mouth to feed and should live like the thrall they intended me to be. I didn’t look anywhere but straight ahead, and I said nothing until she walked away. When I looked over, I realized Rangvald was watching me. I had never in my life or since then held such hatred as I did for him in that moment. I felt abandoned all over again, and I despised myself for being a fool, for trusting him. I left the longhouse and ran to my hut. I gathered the few meager belongings I had brought with me and the few things I’d gained since I arrived. I knew my way to Lena and Ivar’s homestead from conversations I’d overheard many times as the marriage between Rang’s sister, Inga, and Ivar was being planned. I slipped out of my hut without being seen since it was dark. I’d seen the hidden gate in the wall, and it was easy to leave the homestead unnoticed. There were risks to stealing a horse, but I did it anyway. My life was forfeit already. It took me four days to ride to Ivar and Lena’s. I’d never met either of them before, so everyone was a stranger there. I was more willing to risk becoming a thrall than stay there to watch Rang paw at some other woman when I’d confessed I loved him.”
Lena reached out a hand and grasped Lorna’s. Lena continued the story as tears began to fall down Lorna’s cheeks.
Tyra & Bjorn (Viking Glory Book 3) Page 3
