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The Northmen Series Box Set

Page 49

by T S Florence


  “Where would I go?” Rose asked, certain that she would not be accepted into her family’s home, and not wanting to ask Isla for any more charity.

  “With your mother,” Ragnar said, unhelpfully.

  Rose scoffed, but rather than answer, she started to drag the chest from the room. Ragnar moved towards her and lifted the chest effortlessly.

  “Show me where you want it, then,” Ragnar said.

  Rose walked him to a room on the opposite side of the house, with no other room being any further.

  “I’m going to pay rent,” Rose said.

  “Don’t be stupid, I’m not a land owner charging you rent to set up shop” Ragnar sighed.

  “I’m going to be storing wool here as well, so I will pay rent,” Rose said.

  “Why would you be storing wool?” Ragnar looked at her cautiously.

  “I’m going to sell wool. I want independence from you, Ragnar. I will not marry you. Not now, not ever,” She said, as she pushed him towards the door.

  She did not stop to look at the expression on his face before she closed the door, shutting him out. She listened to his footsteps as he walked down the tiled hallway, before she crawled onto her bed and sobbed quietly to herself. Rose had been through a lot of turmoil and tragedy in her life, but one thing she had never felt before was rejection by loved ones. It was more painful than the long, cold trip across the ocean she was forced to take when she was just a child, before being sold as a slave. It was more painful than being left by Ragnar when he went to go and fight in other men’s wars. Even then, she didn’t feel rejected by him. Abandoned. But not rejected.

  A knock at the door caused her to wipe her eyes with the linen blanket.

  “Who is it?” Rose called.

  “It’s me,” Brenna said, in her unmistakable Norse tongue.

  “Come in,” Rose said.

  “What’s the matter?” Brenna looked at Rose’s red, puffy eyes.

  “I just thought it would have been a little easier coming back here, that’s all,” Rose said, quietly.

  “I don’t mind the place,” Brenna surprised Rose with her reply.

  “Is that because of a certain Torsten that is also here?” Rose laughed lightly.

  “He might be a small, or big, part of it,” Brenna lay back on Rose’s bed. “I still have your coins by the way,” Brenna referred to the gold coins that Isla had given her the night before.

  “Where to start,” Rose said, staring at mosaic the ceiling.

  “Peasant farmers,” Brenna said.

  “We will need a cart,” Rose said.

  “Your brother is a blacksmith, ask him to make you one,” Brenna replied.

  “I think it’s a carpenter I need for a cart,” Rose laughed.

  “Hmm, the stable boy might know somebody, or otherwise I can speak to Torsten. You don’t want to ask Ragnar?” Brenna said.

  “Definitely not. I’m doing this so he doesn’t have so much influence over me. I want this to be mine. Everything I’ve ever had since knowing Ragnar was technically his. I want this to be mine,” Rose said.

  “I can understand that,” Brenna said.

  [TIME STAMP HERE]

  “You can get ‘em real cheap miss, I can go ask some friends for ya,” The stable boy said, as he worked on a mare’s hoof.

  “That would be greatly appreciated, thank you,” Rose smiled as she handed the boy several coins for his effort.

  “Miss,” the boy said with wide eyes, “this is more than my monthly wage.”

  “You’re doing business, sometimes you earn more doing a single thing in business for yourself than you do in a month working for someone else,” Rose winked at the boy.

  “I don’t understand, anyway, I’ll go speak to me friends,” The boy said earnestly.

  Within a day, she had a cart stored in the stables. The cart had spokes from the wheels missing, which the boy said he could replace himself, with fresh wood. Some of the planks in the body of the cart were missing too, with rusted nails pointing through the floor. Again, the boy offered to fix these. The boy had taken a liking to Rose, likely because of her generosity in paying him for his services.

  After the boy mended the cart, it would be big enough to carry all the wool she could find. Ragnar had been growling at her for the last two days, ever since she shut the door in his face, telling her that she was a woman and that women don’t do business. But she ignored him. She told him that she would prove him wrong, but only if he would let her use one of his mares.

  “You haven’t asked any other time you’ve taken one of my horses, including my own war horse, why do you decide to ask now?” Ragnar laughed at her question.

  “Because I will be using it for business, and I will pay you,” Rose said, as she fidgeted with the small bag of coins.

  “If I wanted your money I would take it from you,” Ragnar said eyeing the bag.

  “I know,” Rose rolled her eyes.

  “Use the damn mare,” Ragnar had growled.

  “Payment, for the first month,” Rose handed the bag towards Ragnar.

  “I don’t want your money. We will still be married eventually, and taking your money would not be husbandly,” Ragnar said.

  “We are not getting married,” Rose’s nostrils flared.

  “We will. You have no father who will give you away, so I will take you,” Ragnar said, moving closer to her.

  “What if I don’t want to marry you?” Rose said back, her insides warming at the feeling of his body warmth.

  Ragnar’s lip twitched at Rose’s comment. “Do you?” He growled.

  “No,” Rose said, matter of factly.

  “Then you can buy your own freedom,” Ragnar said, as he took the bag of coins from Hilda’s hand.

  “Excuse me?” Rose snapped.

  “I never officially freed you,” Ragnar said.

  “You never officially bought me, either,” Rose felt her face beginning to go red from anger.

  “Yes I did, on the shores of Fyrkat,” Ragnar said.

  “Your father did, not you,” Rose said.

  “And I inherit all from my father. His property, by extension, is my own property. And he never freed you either,” Ragnar was now standing so close that Rose was backed against a wall, her head to turn upwards, just to meet his eyes.

  Even despite his harsh words and his physical intimidation, Rose couldn’t help but notice his devastating looks, his hard, blue eyes, the scar that ran down his face, lining his battle hardened expression like a picture frame. Picture perfect.

  Grab me. Take me. Rose thought to herself, as her breath began to turn ragged. Ragnar took a hand and put it between her legs, as if testing a piece of fruit in the markets, a peach, to see if it was soft enough to eat.

  “And you want me, still. But you don’t want to marry,” Ragnar said, eyeing her.

  “I would not marry you without Elder Ragnar’s blessing. So go to your hell and drink with your stupid gods,” Rose said, suddenly embarrassed.

  Ragnar let go of her more quickly than he had grabbed her, and turned on his heel, leaving with the payment for his mare.

  “I’m doubling the payment of the mare. This is the first two weeks’ payment only,” Ragnar called out, his baritone voice echoing out through the halls.

  “Bastard,” Rose said, under her breath.

  [TIME STAMP HERE]

  “He doubled the payment of the mare, after he already took your money,” Brenna gasped, “does he need the money?” She asked, confused.

  Her question almost caused Rose to laugh, but her anger, still present from the exchange, managed to take priority. “It isn’t about money. A man like Ragnar does not think about money. If he needs something, he takes it,” Rose huffed.

  “Then why would he make you pay if he loves you?” Brenna asked.

  “He doesn’t love me. It’s about control. Power. He is regretting his choice to free me, so now he is saying that I need to buy my own freedom. He doesn’t like
that he can’t control me now. Not that he did before. I have always been in charge,” Rose said, rolling her eyes.

  “He wants to control you?” Brenna said, scratching her chin.

  “I doubt he even understands what he’s doing. Anyway, I’m going to pay Ragnar, and then watch him suffer when he no longer has any control over me” Rose said. “And don’t tell Torsten,” Rose said, taking Brenna’s hand.

  “But we tell each other everything,” Brenna said, looking into Rose’s eyes.

  “Brenna, he will tell Ragnar immediately. He is one of his blood warriors,” Rose pleaded.

  “Very well. I suppose this is more your secret than it is mine,” Brenna said, smiling. “But,” Brenna began.

  “What?” Rose half sighed, half laughed.

  “Your anger seems a little, I don’t know. Is this just about Ragnar, or is it something else?” Brenna asked.

  “It’s Ragnar. It’s all Ragnar’s fault,” Rose said, looking at the floor.

  [TIME STAMP HERE]

  “I cannot believe he does not trust us to go alone,” Rose fumed, as they sat at the front of the horse-drawn cart.

  “Rose, please, he’s not exactly annoying us,” Brenna sighed, looking back at Torsten, who followed them from ten paces away.

  “We aren’t going to run into trouble out on sheep farms,” Rose laughed.

  “I don’t mind that he’s here,” Brenna said.

  “I know that,” Rose laughed again.

  Despite Ragnar sending Torsten to protect-spy on Rose and her business, she couldn’t help but let her excitement bubble over, at the prospect of buying her first round of wool from the local sheep farmers.

  “I could teach you to colour the wool and make clothing. I would pay you, ” Rose said to Brenna, as they approached the first farm.

  “I don’t want your money. Torsten will provide everything once we are married,” Brenna smiled as she looked ahead at the farm.

  “You would be happy to simply be married to Torsten, with no control over any money or freedom?” Rose asked.

  “Marrying Torsten is my freedom. I do not want to live my life any other way,” Brenna said, quietly. “We are just waiting for the spring, when his family will arrive on the boat, so they can witness our marriage,” Brenna said.

  Well, Torsten wasn’t like Ragnar, Rose thought to herself. Torsten wasn’t Brenna’s slaver, Torsten didn’t want all of the power in the relationship. They were different. Ragnar and Rose. It sounded right in her head. They would never be accepted.

  Ragnar

  Ragnar beat down on his training partner’s shield, causing him to step back.

  “What’s gotten into you today?” Ivar said, as he backed off from Ragnar.

  “What?” Ragnar growled.

  “Did you come here to spar with me just because you knew you could use more anger?” Ivar snapped.

  “All the other men are weak as chicken piss,” Ragnar said.

  “So you come and try to kill your king in some friendly training?” Ivar said.

  “You would know if I was trying to kill you,” Ragnar said, turning away.

  “What’s the matter with you man, is that girl sending you Crazy?

  “That girl has a name,” Ragnar growled.

  “Which one, Hilda or Rose?” Ivar said, provoking him.

  “You know damn well,” Ragnar said.

  “Why don’t you just marry her,” Ivar said.

  “I tried. She is refusing,” Ragnar said.

  “What? Why?” Ivar asked.

  “She sees me as her owner. She does not want me as her husband,” Ragnar said.

  “You’re wrong, you just don’t know how to act like a normal person with her,” Ivar said.

  “What does that mean?” Ragnar said, his temper cooled as he gained interest in some possible advice.

  “The men love you. Isla loves you. They love you because you’re a good man. You make people happy. Do that with Rose,” Ivar said.

  “It is more complicated than that,” Ragnar said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Ivar said.

  “You had to kidnap your damned wife before you told her you loved her,” Ragnar said.

  “That was a little different, and you know it,” Ivar said, growing serious.

  “Your wife tried ran all the way into Scotland to try and escape you,” Ragnar continued.

  “And she came back,” Ivar said.

  “She didn’t come back. You made us capture her, and we lost Magnus in the fight,” Ragnar said, low and slow. “So don’t give me your sage advice on how to woo a woman,” He said.

  “Go home and cool off, viking,” Ivar said, as he sheathed his sword and took a deathly serious tone.

  “Can’t find any good training partners today anyway,” Ragnar said, as he stormed through the gates and took the reigns of his war horse.

  Ragnar was riding at a break neck speed on the way home, but slowed his horse as he approached the smithy’s shelter.

  “Jack,” Ragnar boomed, as he tied his horse to the front post.

  “Jack,” Ragnar shouted again.

  The Englishman’s pale face and straw-like blond hair emerged from the smoky shelter.

  “What is with the shouting? Jack asked.

  “What are you doing?” Ragnar asked.

  “Hitting metal,” Jack replied.

  “Of course. It’s your job,” Ragnar said.

  “That’s right,” Jack said.

  “Very well,” Ragnar said.

  “Ragnar? What is it? You don’t normally do something or go somewhere unless there is a reason,” Jack said.

  “I can’t come and see a friend on a fine day?” Ragnar became defensive, not wanting to admit that he was speaking to the one person who was closest to Rose.

  “Of course you can, but that doesn’t mean you normally do,” Jack said.

  “Well today I am,” Ragnar said.

  “And where is my sister?” Jack asked.

  “She is out with Brenna, buying wool,” Ragnar said.

  Jack’s expression turned to one of surprise at this information. “Buying wool?” He asked.

  “She wishes to become a wool merchant,” Ragnar said.

  “Like father,” Jack said, almost to himself. “She always did have a mind for commerce,” He said.

  “I know that,” Ragnar said.

  “She was always more like father. And me, well me not so much. I was more interested in swords,” Jack said.

  “What about your mother?” Ragnar asked.

  Jack’s face changed again. “Well I don’t think either of us turned out so much like her,” Jack said. “But she hasn’t had it easy,” he finished.

  “Why hasn’t your mother come to see Rose?” Ragnar asked, intrigued.

  “Rose didn’t tell you?” Jack said, before he could stop himself.

  “Tell me what?” Ragnar’s voice became a growl.

  “I’ll say no more,” Jack said, his voice firm.

  “Say no more of what?” Ragnar barked.

  “It is none of my business what my sister and you discuss,” Jack said.

  “Jack,” Ragnar took a threatening step forwards.

  Jack laughed. “It is clear you are in love with Rose. I doubt you would hurt her brother. Besides, we’re old friends,” Jack said, slapping Ragnar’s boulder-like shoulder.

  “Little bastard,” Ragnar said, even though Jack was not little.

  “Speak to my sister, if you want to find out our family history so badly,” Jack shouted. He had already walked back into his sweltering shop.

  What did everyone know that he did not, what was going on in Rose’s family that Ragnar did not know about. Was her mother dead as well? Was everyone refusing to tell her, or him, or both of them?

  Ragnar walked his horse into his stables, handing the reigns to the boy. The cart was unavoidable. It was full, almost overflowing, with wool.

  Ragnar walked into the palace courtyard, where he saw Brenna an
d Rose talking excitedly.

  “Hello Ragnar,” Rose said, turning to him with a sly smirk on her face. “I should be able to pay a full year’s payment for Lucy after I’ve sold this load of wool at the markets tomorrow,” he said.

 

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