by Bobbi Smith
“It will take a day to gather the ransom. You will sail day after tomorrow with the news of our agreement. Until then, you are considered a guest in my home.”
“Thank you for your hospitality, Anslak.”
“And thank you for bringing us this news of my son.”
Hereld was thrilled. He was going to be rich. The trip had been worth it.
Later that night, Ulf, Anslak, and Kristoffer went alone to the top of a nearby hill overlooking the fjord to talk in private.
“There is much to plan and little time,” Anslak told them. “How many men can be raised to sail with us, Ulf?”
“Two hundred.”
“Good. Send word to them. Start tonight. We will sail soon after the merchant. We must find my son and bring him home.”
“Where shall we make the exchange?” Ulf asked.
“There is a landing site far to the north of Lord Alfrick’s tower that is near a level and open field. It would be a safe place to make the exchange. We will be able to see if there are any surprises awaiting us from the Saxons.”
“I pray Brage is well,” Kristoffer said solemnly.
“I pray that this is not a trap. We will take one hundred warriors with us, and leave the other hundred on board their longships waiting just off the coast. Should we feel there might be trouble, we will be ready to defend ourselves,” Anslak said.
Ulf and Kristoffer knew their father was right. They were ready to leave immediately to save their brother, but would have to do things according to the Saxon plan. That did not sit well with them, but they accepted it as the only way to rescue Brage.
“I still do not trust them,” Anslak was saying. “We will remain alert until we are away from the coast with Brage safe. Only then will I believe that there is no treachery involved in their plan.”
The following day, Anslak gathered his treasure. Late that evening, he called Hereld to him. The trader had been preparing his own ship to sail, but came at once upon hearing that Anslak wanted him.
“I have the hundred pounds of gold for you,” the older Viking announced, his expression grave as he faced him.
“Good. I’m sure Lord Alfrick will be happy that you agreed to the terms.”
“I am sure he will be, too.” Anslak’s tone was sarcastic. “Tell your lord that I will meet him at the field a day’s march north of his tower in eight days. Tell him that as long as my son is returned to me alive and well, there will be no bloodshed. I will come forward with the gold, and I expect Brage to be there to meet me. If all goes as planned, we will leave immediately.”
“I will relay your message to him, Anslak.”
“I am trusting you to do so, but be warned, Hereld. Any betrayal will be repaid in kind.”
Hereld saw the fierce look on his face and knew he was not a man to cross. “I will tell Lord Alfrick all you have said.”
Anslak nodded and said nothing more as the other man left. He was glad the trader was leaving that morning. It meant they were that much closer to saving Brage from the hands of the Saxon lord . . . if he really was still alive.
Hereld was quite amazed at how well everything had gone. Except for his momentary scare with the big man named Ulf, all had gone just as he had hoped it would. He would stow away the gold, return to Lord Alfrick, tell him the news and then pocket the fee he had promised him. With any luck at all, he could be far away before the exchange took place, and that would be fine with him.
Dynna was just finishing her noon meal when Sir Edmund entered the room. Every time she saw him she was painfully and vividly reminded that her days of freedom were numbered. While she had been nursing Brage, she had been able to concentrate on keeping him alive and not be overwhelmed by the reality of what was about to happen to her. But now, as the Viking regained his health, she had little else to focus on, and so could no longer deny the chilling specter of her impending marriage. The priest could be arriving at any time, and when he did, her life would be over. She trembled at the thought of what her existence would become. Desperate to get away from Edmund, she stood up to leave.
Sir Edmund saw her getting ready to go, and he moved in her direction. He caught her by the arm as she would have slipped out one of the side entrances.
“Do not be so hasty to leave, my lady,” Sir Edmund said as he drew her back to him. “Come join me in my midday meal.”
“I have already eaten and have need to go.” She tried to put him off as she stared pointedly at his hand on her arm.
“Where are you bound that is more important than spending time with your betrothed? Surely you can keep me company while I eat,” he said, sounding blandly entreating, but letting her know by the pressure on her arm that he was serious.
“If only I could, Sir Edmund, but I must see to my patient.”
Edmund’s expression hardened. “It is my understanding that the Viking’s fever has broken, and he is recovering nicely.”
“Indeed, he is much improved from when last you saw him, but he is still weak and in need of my help.”
“I bid you to join me.” His tone brooked no refusal.
“I must decline, for I have things to do that are more important than my being at your call.”
“I said stay, my lady.”
His grip was bruising.
“Your father has bid that I tend to the Viking. You have no power to say otherwise. Your father rules here, not you, Sir Edmund.” Her eyes were flashing fire as she pulled away from him.
Edmund’s hands clenched into fists as he watched her walk away. The desire to throttle her within an inch of her life was strong within him, and he wondered just how much longer it would be before the priest would come.
Dynna appeared to be calm and collected as she moved off. In truth, she wanted to scream. Was there no way for her to avoid the fate that would surely be worse than death? Was there to be no escape? She had tried to run that one time and had been caught. As desperate as she was, dare she try again?
Dynna reached up to brush away the tears that were falling and realized then just how badly her hands were shaking. It infuriated her that she was this terrified. She had always thought of herself as a strong person. It angered her to be trapped, and she desperately sought some way—any way—to save herself.
Nine
On the way up the tower steps, Dynna actually found herself looking forward to going to the Viking’s room. At least when she was with Brage, she was safe from Edmund.
The thought of Edmund upset her again, and Dynna grew agitated. No matter how much she wanted to fool herself into believing that she was out of harm’s way when she was in the tower, there was no place really safe from Sir Edmund. Confronted again by her own helpless state, her anger grew. She was just as much a prisoner as the Viking, except hers was a more insidious kind of captivity. There were no bars on her windows and her door was not locked from the outside. It was the unspoken threat of what he could do to her and the persistent surveillance that left her thwarted at every turn.
Dynna forced a smile as she approached Perkin. “How is he doing this afternoon?”
“He has been quiet, my lady,” he said as he started to open the door for her.
Brage had been using every moment to build himself back up. He had regained almost all the physical movement of his arm and shoulder, and he was able to bear the pain, severe though it still was. When he heard Dynna outside the door speaking to the guard, he quickly ceased his strengthening movements and half-reclined on the bed. He did not want her to find out how much he had improved.
Brage planned to escape the tower at the first opportunity. He was not yet sure how he was going to do it, but he knew he could not stay imprisoned. Death in an escape attempt was far more appealing than remaining here indefinitely—a trophy for Lord Alfrick’s pleasure. The longer his captors thought him weak, the better. They would not be expecting him to try to run if they thought he was still suffering.
Dynna entered the room. “It is good that you are tryin
g to get up. Are you feeling a little better?”
“Some of the dizziness has left me,” Brage answered. He watched her walk toward him, and again was struck by the graceful way she moved. She was wearing her hair down this day, and the thick, shiny mane was glorious to behold. It was then that he noticed a flush to her cheeks and a certain fierce glitter in her eyes. He wondered at her mood. Usually she was the picture of serenity, but he could tell that was not so today.
“Are you angry with me or some other?”
“I am not angry with anyone.” She denied the truth. “But since you say you are feeling stronger, perhaps it is time for you to start moving. You have been lying down too long.”
“There was a time when I would have loved to have spent time abed with a lovely woman watching over me,” he remarked, a gleam in his eyes. A slight smile played about his lips as he saw her color heighten even more. “But lying in bed in a prison cell was not what I had in mind. You are right. It will be good to get around again.” He started to stand.
“No . . . wait! Let me help you.” Dynna insisted, reaching for him and slipping a supporting arm about his waist. She feared he would harm himself if he could not support his own weight. “I do not want to risk you taking a fall.”
Brage chuckled, and Dynna shot him a questioning look.
“Why are you laughing? If you fell, you very well might injure yourself again.”
“Lady Dynna, if I were to lean my whole weight on you, I would break you. Then neither one of us would be walking.”
“But this is your first time up. You are still weak, and you are going to be unsteady.”
Brage said nothing. He could think of worse tortures than having her arm around him. The curve of her body, very feminine and lush, fit softly against his, and the touch and scent of her sent a fierce, unexpected surge of heat through him. He rested an arm about her shoulders for extra support, his hand curving about her arm.
Dynna tensed, almost flinching at his touch. It had been a long time since a man had touched her in gentleness and affection. Sir Edmund’s pawings had left her nervous and unsure of herself. She hated Edmund’s hands upon her, and at the thought of it, she trembled.
“Is something wrong, my lady?” he asked as he felt her shiver.
“No. Nothing is wrong. See if you can take a few steps,” she encouraged quickly, wanting to distract herself.
Brage did as she suggested, taking care not to move too easily. He did not want her to know that he had already mastered crossing the room under his own power.
Dynna could not relax as they walked at a snail’s pace around the chamber. Brage could feel the tenseness in her, and it puzzled him. Stopping, he looked down at her and asked, “Are you sure there is nothing troubling you? If you would rather not do this, I can sit back down.”
It surprised her to find out that he could interpret her mood. Few men she had known gave any consideration to what a woman was thinking or feeling. Warren had valued her thoughts and opinions, but she considered him the exception. Edmund crept unwanted into her thoughts then. “There are many times in life when we are forced to do things we do not want to do.”
Brage frowned, seeing for just a fleeting moment a glimpse of pain in her expression. “Do you want to do this? I can walk on my own if need be.”
“This I have chosen to do. But do not think that you are the only prisoner in this tower.” Dynna knew Brage would eventually be freed to return home to his family, while she would be forced into a marriage to Sir Edmund that she would have to endure until death parted them.
He was amazed by her statement. He turned to face her, her supportive arm slipping from around him. His eyes were shadowed with anger as he spoke. “You speak foolishness. I hardly see a comparison. You have the freedom to go wherever you want. I, however, have been chained to a wall and am now locked in this room.”
“Some chains are invisible.”
“You still have the power to dictate your own future. You can leave if you choose to do so.”
She lifted her gaze to his as she gave a brittle laugh, and for the first time he could see the torment within her.
“That is what I was doing when your men caught me.” There was a catch of raw emotion in her voice.
Brage frowned at her confession. “You were running away that day . . . I had wondered at your disguise. Was it a situation you were running from or a man?”
“A man. Sir Edmund. I am promised by order of Lord Alfrick to marry him soon.”
“You are too good a woman to be wife to a man like that,” Brage said.
Their gazes locked. His regard was as solemn as hers was troubled. With utmost tenderness, he lifted his hand and touched her cheek.
“I am sorry that my taking you captive ended your bid for freedom. I would never want to hurt you in any way.”
Dynna stared up at him, seeing him as a man and not a Viking prisoner. Desire flared in his gaze; and she knew Brage was about to kiss her. She told herself to move away from him, to escape the magnetic pull of his attraction, but she didn’t.
Brage gazed down at her, thinking her the most beautiful woman in the world. He saw the uncertainty in her gaze and wanted to be gentle with her. With the utmost care, Brage bent to Dynna and brushed her lips with his in a tender-soft kiss.
Dynna gasped at the sensations that swept through her at the touch of his mouth on hers. She was no stranger to desire. She had enjoyed the gentle lovemaking she had shared with Warren. But this . . . this was different. This feeling was like nothing she had ever experienced before, and it was all from that one simple touch of his lips on hers.
When Brage drew back, Dynna stared up at him. From the dark slash of his brows over his brilliant blue eyes, to the hard masculine line of his jaw, Brage was the most strikingly handsome man she had ever known. She had thought him intimidating when she had first seen him, with his full beard, wearing his helmet. But now, clean-shaven, hair trimmed, healthy, he was not only powerful but devastatingly handsome. She cautioned herself that Brage was a danger to her; yet, she could see no threat in him.
A sense of her own vulnerability overcame Dynna as she realized the power of her feelings. She took a step back, needing to put a distance between them.
Her deliberate movement away from him forced Brage to give himself a mental shake. He would never have dreamed that one chaste kiss could have ignited so many fires within him. Lady Dynna was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had known she was brave from the beginning, and now he knew she was one of the kindest and most generous women he had ever encountered. Her kiss had stirred him as no other before. He stared down at her, trying to judge her mood and read her thoughts.
Dynna stood before him, unnerved by the feelings that were overwhelming her. “I think you must be regaining your health quite nicely, Sir Viking. It seems quite obvious that you are feeling better.”
“I am feeling much better,” he replied in a low voice, but there was laughter in his eyes.
Dynna saw his amusement and took another step away from him. “Then I think you can walk better than I suspected. Perhaps you should try to go lie down under your own power.”
Brage was smiling as he turned and walked to the bed. The inviting look he gave her as he sat down spoke volumes.
Dynna had an instant image of herself on the bed with him—touching him, not in healing, but in passion; caressing him, not to cool him, but to heat his desire. She turned and fled toward the door with all the dignity she could muster. As she escaped into the hall, she could hear Brage chuckling behind her.
Dynna exited the room calmly, for she could not betray anything to Perkin. She headed back down the stairs, even more confused and upset than she had been when she had climbed them earlier. Everywhere she looked she was surrounded by trouble. First, there was Edmund, and now Brage . . .
Dynna longed to be home, where her mother would counsel her and help her. But there was no returning to those days of love and family. Her futu
re stretched before her bleak and cold.
Dynna knew there was only one source for help now. She passed her own chamber on her way downstairs and hurried to the chapel to pray. God was her only hope.
The chapel was plain and darkly shadowed. Only a few candles on the small altar offered any light. She knelt in fervent prayer, begging for divine guidance, pleading for rescue from her doomed fate as Edmund’s bride.
Dynna remained on her knees for a long time. This attraction to Brage unsettled her. She had never known such promise in a kiss . . . Was it to be her destiny to marry a man she despised? Was there to be no peace in her life? She had hoped for some divine insight to help her decide her future. To her heartbreak and dismay, all she got was silence in answer to her eloquent pleas.
When she finally got up to leave the room, Dynna felt as abandoned as she had when she had first entered. It was as she had suspected all along—she was alone. She would have to save herself, if she was to be saved at all.
As she was reaching for the door handle, she heard voices outside in the passageway. She recognized one as Edmund’s and stopped cold. She desperately wanted to avoid him. Seeing him once that day had already been too much. She stepped back into the shadows and waited for him and his companion to pass. She could hear his voice clearly as he strode by the door.
“Things are working out almost too perfectly, my friend,” Edmund was saying.
“How so?”
“Both Father Corwin and Father Osmar have just arrived in the village. Now that they have returned, my marriage to the princess will take place. I have already spoken to Father Corwin, and he has agreed to perform the ceremony within the week.”
“She is a lovely one, your brother’s widow. I understand your eagerness to make her your bride.”
“When I am made lord here, she will make a beautiful lady for our people.”
Dynna’s stomach lurched at what she had just overheard. The priests were back! The wedding would be within the week! She had thought prayers would help her, but it seemed her fate had only been sealed. She started to tremble at the news.
