The Northmen Series Box Set

by T S Florence

  “For looking out for me,” Rose said.

  “You’re my little sister,” Jack said.

  “We’re twins,” Rose said, straight faced.

  “I was born first, little sister,” Jack said. He nodded to his sister and continued his search for their mother.

  Rose carried her day’s profits in a sack over her shoulder. “The woman was right, you don’t deserve that money, sinner,” A man from across the market said, as she passed him by. He sold vegetables, which made Rose confused. Why should a man who she serves no competition to, be angry with her?

  She ignored his comment and continued on, letting the comment fuel her ambition to keep moving forwards. To gain a place in society where people dared not challenge her. Where she was free to simply live. With a child. Single.

  That night, she made a mutton stew with Torsten and Brenna. They had become close. Torsten and Brenna were now married. Torsten made his own way as Ragnar’s man, but Brenna was working for Rose. She was learning to dye and knit woollen clothing, to sell in the markets.

  Approaching hooves drew their attention to the door.

  Torsten placed his bowl on the table reached for his sword that only a soldier who had faced death in battle countless times could do with such calmness.

  “Go wait in the other room,” Torsten said to Brenna and Rose.

  They did so without question.

  After brief talking, Torsten called to Rose and Brenna “It’s safe.”

  The girls came from the bedroom, to find a man from Isla’s house guard at their front door.

  “The princess would have you as her guest for dinner, tomorrow night,” The guard said.

  “She sent you herself?” Rose asked.

  “Yes,” the guard said.

  “Tell her I accept, and I look forward to seeing her,” Rose said.

  “What do you think the princess wants?” Brenna asked, after the guard had gone.

  “She probably just wants to catch up. I’ve been so busy lately, I’ve hardly had a chance to see her,” Rose said.

  “I should knit her a jumper for you to give her as a gift,” Brenna said.

  “That’s a good idea. Repaying the money she loaned was insignificant, for money means little to a princess. A hand-made gift would be perfect,” Rose said.

  “I have some freshly died wool ready to knit, I will start tonight,” Brenna beamed.

  Torsten was already sitting back in his usual position, eating his food.

  “Ragnar’s clothing is looking a little worse for wear these days,” Torsten said, absentmindedly.

  Rose’s ears pricked up at the name, “Then he should buy some more,” she replied curtly.

  “You know what he’s like. If it’s not a weapon or shield, he’s not very interested in shopping,” he said nonchalantly.

  “I will not make Ragnar clothes that he has not asked for,” Rose clipped.

  Part of her was concerned, however. She had not seen Ragnar since she had taken possession of the farm, and that was almost four weeks ago.

  [TIME STAMP HERE]

  “I’m so glad you could make it,” Isla ran to Rose as she walked through the huge wooden front doors of the castle.

  “I can’t say no to a princess,” Rose laughed.

  “That’s right. Maybe I will ask for you to join me every night,” Isla said.

  “Thank you for the escort,” Rose said, “this is for you. Brenna did all of the work,” Rose handed Isla the brightly coloured, blue jumped.

  “Rose, this is so exciting! It’s just like the one you gave me as a child. It’s so hard to find clothing of this quality, usually we have to wait for merchants from Frankia,” Isla said.

  “I’m glad you like it,” Rose was proud of the work, even though it wasn’t her own work. It was much needed validation that her clothing would sell well in the markets. She held onto the hessian bag with the other, extra large clothes that she had made for Ragnar.

  The dinner was the finest food that could be eaten. Perfectly roasted vegetables and meat, with strawberries and fresh cream for dessert.

  “Have you seen Ragnar lately?” Ivar asked, as they sat back at the large table, watching the courtiers eat and gossip below them.

  “No, he hasn’t come to see me,” Rose said back to Ivar.

  “Have you gone to see him? You did leave him, after all,” Ivar said.

  “I left him? I moved outside the castle walls. When he left me, he left the entire country,” Rose clipped.

  Ivar stretched out, and patted his stomach, clearly satisfied with the night’s food. “You get to know a man in a shield wall,” Ivar said.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Rose asked.

  “Ragnar left without you because there was no way he could have looked after you when he first came here,” Ivar said.

  “He was not worried for me. He was worried about his own glory and reputation,” Rose said.

  “Is that what you think?” Ivar asked.

  “It’s what I know,” Rose said.

  “He was not proud of leaving you in Fyrkat,” Ivar said.

  “He did it anyway,” Rose clipped.

  “It was necessary,” Ivar said.

  “Why?” Rose asked.

  “A man will step on other men, or be stepped on by other men,” Ivar said.

  “What does that mean, exactly?” Rose asked.

  “Ragnar built himself a reputation and wealth, and then he went back for you. No man can take you from him, or anything else, for that matter. His notoriety spreads further than you might think,” Ivar said.

  “I know. He’s an Earl now in our home country,” Rose sighed.

  “You know the mad Scots,” Ivar said.

  “Of course I know the wild Scotsmen. We never went further north than Newcastle because of them,” Rose replied.

  “Ragnar’s name is feared throughout Scotland,” Ivar said.

  “Am I supposed to be impressed?” Rose asked.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But I am impressed, and I’m hard to impress,” Ivar said. He paused for a moment, as if weighing Rose in his mind.

  “Everything he has done in his life can be traced back to you. Every man he has killed in battle, every victory he has won for me. He has done it with you at the front of his mind, and you in the back of his mind. He did it knowing where he came from, and who was waiting for him, and he did it with the vision of where he wanted to end up. Although I’m guessing that this current ending isn’t quite what he had in mind,” Ivar said.

  “Who wanted me for dinner exactly? You, Isla, or Ragnar?” Rose said, challenging him.

  “Me,” Ivar said.

  “I did as well, Rose, I even suggested to have you last week but we had to leave the city because of the problem in the North,” Isla said, with a pleading voice.

  “A problem that Ragnar solved for me,” Ivar said.

  “How did he solve it?” Rose asked.

  “By doing what he does best,” Ivar said, “and he’s doing it better right now than ever. So I certainly am not saying this out of my best interests, because an angry Ragnar is a fearsome warrior,” Ivar said.

  “Then why do you do it,” Rose asked, becoming heated.

  “Because Ragnar is not happy. I have seen Ragnar happy, and he has not been happy ever since he heard news of your town being raided by vikings,” Ivar said.

  “And you’re suggesting that his source of unhappiness is my doing?” Rose clipped.

  “No, I’m saying his source of unhappiness is his own doing, but I am certain that if he becomes happy, then it will definitely be your doing,” Ivar said.

  “I’m feeling tired. Isla, thank you for the food. I should be going,” Rose stood from her chair.

  It was a great insult to stand before a royal stood after eating, but neither Ivar nor Isla said a word. Curious faces turned to observe the spectacle, but Isla rose a split second after, to prevent people from talking. Though, in truth, people would still talk.


  “Rose please, I didn’t think Ivar would say all of that,” Isla said, sending daggers to her husband.

  “I just-” Ivar began, before Isla hit his shoulder, ordering him to silence.

  “I’m walking you out,” Isla continued.

  “I’m sorry,” Rose signed, “I just get so worked up when it comes to Ragnar,” she wrung her hands together.

  “I can see that,” Isla said.

  “He makes me furious,” Rose said.

  “Ivar made me furious as well. He still does,” Isla laughed.

  “Truly?” Rose asked.

  “He kidnapped me. I attempted to escape several times. Once, I escaped successfully, but eventually he found me, took me with him, and saved my life,” Isla said.

  “Saved your life?” Rose asked, confused.

  “My uncle wanted me dead. Long story. Anyway, I think that despite your anger with Ragnar, there is a connection that goes far beyond that anger, and that’s more than I had with Ivar, to start. So, I think you should at least consider letting him back in. He’s so awful to be around these days, with his temper,” Isla said.

  “He is not my responsibility,” Rose said, feeling overwhelmed at people trying to take charge of her life.

  “I know that. And I know you. You want him bad. I could tell you were sleeping together,” Isla smiled.

  “I’m not married,” Rose stuttered.

  “Neither was I,” Isla said with a wink. “But be careful, if you become pregnant, you’d best want a husband,” she said.

  45

  Ragnar

  Rangar’s shoulder was still healing from the short exhibition he took up north to quell an uprising. The tip of an arrow had glanced off his shoulder, with his armour taking most of the force out of the blow. His maids had bandaged it up and now crusted blood signalled a healthy injury. It was better than puss and inflamed skin, he thought.

  It was early morning and Ragnar had dressed himself in his war glory, as if preparing for battle, which in a sense, he was. He was going to the Sunday markets. Shortly after his trip to the Sunday Markets, he would be heading south with a convoy of men, to investigate rumours of a raid on a small seaside village.

  But first, he had to satisfy his curiosity, and see for himself how Rose was doing. He went to his stables, where his horse was already saddled.

  “Lucy seems real lonely now that Miss Rose has a new Horse,” the stableboy said.

  “Yes, well Lucy is lucky to have you, lad,” Ragnar said, realising that he had that in common with the horse - they both missed Rose.

  Ragnar hauled himself into the saddle, and started on his way to the markets. It was mid-morning, and the streets were already crowded with people. Most stalls were only four or five feet wide, but when he looked over to Rose’s market stall, it was three times the length of any other stall. It was at least fifteen feet wide, and the whole front of the stall had brightly coloured clothes hanging from a line.

  Rose

  Rose saw Ragnar get down from his horse and walk towards her stall. “You’ve got more space than last time I saw,” he said.

  Rose couldn’t stop her wide-eyed expression; the shock was too much. Her hand went to her stomach, feeling the baby kick, for the first time, but moved her hand to her side not wanting Ragnar to catch on.

  “Yes. Yes, we’ve been doing quite well,” Rose said.

  “I’ll be camping out for a couple nights. I need a blanket,” Ragnar said, his eyes moving down to her stomach. She knew that she looked bigger than last time he’d seen her. But only in the stomach. Would he notice?

  Rose packed a large, dark blanket into a hessian bag.

  “Either you’ve been eating very well in the last couple months, or you’re eating for two,” Ragnar said.

  Rose’s nostrils flared, and her hand went instinctively back to her stomach.

  “I knew it,” he said. “When were you going to tell me?” He asked.

  “When were you going to see how I was doing, living out on a farm?” Rose shot back.

  “I know how you’re doing,” Ragnar said.

  “Your loyal man Torsten reporting every word back to you, is that why he hasn’t been going on any exhibitions with you lately?” Rose clipped.

  “Yes,” Ragnar smiled.

  Rose shoved the bag into Ragnar’s chest. “Free of charge,” Rose said.

  “I don’t want the mother of my child to go hungry,” Ragnar said, pulling gold out of his saddlebag.

  Most men were far more cautious when they carried gold, and they certainly didn’t pull it out in crowded places so brazenly. But most men weren’t Ragnar the Destroyer, Earl of Fyrkat. He handed her what would have been fifty times the price of the blanket, but Rose refused to put her hand out and take the coins.

  He smiled, and put the coins on the counter. “I think I’ll bring some sheep back from down south and start up my own wool shop,” Ragnar said.

  Rose took the coin, her face red, and her brows furrowed. “You wouldn’t dare,” She said.

  “No, I wouldn’t want to put my future wife out of business,” Ragnar laughed.

  “Excuse me?” Rose said, her voice low.

  “It won’t be long before you’ll need a husband to go with that baby, and no man will be game to marry you if they know you’re mine,” Ragnar laughed.

  “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man left in the whole of England,” Rose clipped.

  “You’re not going to have much choice,” Ragnar said, his bear paw like hands on the counter of her market stall, his face, inches from hers. He withdrew, keeping his eyes on her, as he mounted his horse and slung the hessian bag over his back. People cleared a wide path, careful not to catch his attention.

  Rose focused on slowing her heart as she watched as Ragnar’s horse slowly trotted through the busy marketplace, a stream of disciplined, savage warriors followed closely behind.

  Despite her anger, she felt so much lust, so much yearning, that she struggled to contain herself. She wanted to pull him down from his horse and take him behind her market stall, on a bed of soft wool.

  Ragnar

  That was definitely now how he wanted the interaction to go. He knew he had made it worse than before. He cursed as he kicked hard into his horse, and rode at a break neck speed down the muddy streets of Newcastle. A couple nights under the stars would do him good.

  [TIME STAMP HERE]

  Too many rumours and not enough fighting, Ragnar thought, as he watched the silhouette of Newcastle come into his view. He looked to the left and saw Rose’s farm in the distance. People were working in the field. Don’t go there, not again, Ragnar thought. But then again, she did complain that he had not gone out to see her. He didn’t want her to use that excuse again. He took a left in the fork of the road, and headed towards Rose’s farm.

  Torsten’s red dreadlocks could be seen before the sheep, for the red was a stark contrast to the rolling green fields. Ragnar thought that Rose could sheer Torsten’s head and make a blanket out of those, too. A disgusting, lice ridden blanket, but a blanket nonetheless. Brenna would probably like it, he thought.

  “Ragnar,” Torsten shouted, his grin a wide as his shoulders. “Did I miss anything,” he shouted.

  “Only four days of riding and a peaceful village that had not seen a single raid in the last decade,” Ragnar said.

  “Still sounds more exciting than these damned sheep,” Torsten said. Ragnar felt bad for making him stay behind, but he needed a man that he could trust close to Rose. And Torsten being with Brenna made him the perfect man.

  “Any news?” Ragnar asked.

  “Aye, nothing you would like, though,” Torsten said.

  “What is it?” Ragnar said.

  “She gets some unwanted attention in the marketplace,” Torsten said.

  “How so?” Ragnar asked.

  “Her belly is becoming visible. And her “husband” is never around. People are becoming suspicious that she’s a husbandless mother. A
sinner,” Torsten said.

  “Is she in danger?” Ragnar asked.

  “Not that I can see. She will not tell you any of this, she tries to play it down. She thinks that it will just take time for the people to accept her. But she’s more one of us than she is English, these days. They don’t see her as English. They see her as a North woman at best, and a traitor at worst. The fact that she’s pregnant doesn’t help that,” Torsten said.