Taming His Viking Woman

by Michelle Styles

  He grasped it and pulled her close. His lips plundered hers. ‘This is how I seal a wager with you.’

  She stumbled away from him, silently cursing that her body thrummed with desire. ‘I will win. Marriage has made him realize his responsibilities.’

  ‘That remains to be seen.’ He gathered up his helm. ‘My men will be ready to greet whoever comes.’

  She tilted her head to one side. ‘You should have told me that you expected my brother to arrive.’

  He lifted his brow. ‘Why? This has no bearing on what passed between us and until it actually happened, I’d no wish to trouble you.’

  ‘It is about trust. You should have said something. I could have allayed your fears. You must believe me. My brother is not like that.’

  ‘Trusting you and trusting are two different matters.’ He inclined his head. ‘My lady.’

  ‘I look forward to proving you wrong,’ she taunted at his retreating back.

  Sayrid retrieved a knife and slid it down her boot. Whatever happened she was not going to be unprotected. She raced out to the assembly area where they always gathered when visitors arrived.

  Hrolf’s men were already there, armed. Hrolf issued a number of low commands. The men obeyed him without question.

  Sayrid shielded her eyes. She could make out a party on horseback. Her stomach triple-knotted. Regin was in the lead!

  She blinked three times to make sure. But with each step the party took, the identity of the lead horseman became clearer.

  Once again she had wagered with Hrolf and lost. She had been so sure that her brother was finally going to repay her faith in him. And if she’d misjudged him on this, what else had she misjudged him on?

  ‘I owe you an apology,’ she said, keeping her shoulders back, but her heart sank lower than her boots. ‘My brother must have changed his mind. There will be a good explanation for it.’

  ‘I look forward to discovering what it is.’

  * * *

  Hrolf struggled to contain his temper as Regin Avilson dismounted. His new bride, reasonably pregnant, rode behind him. Sayrid’s face was now a frozen scowling mask, but her look of complete anguish when she first spied her brother cut him far more deeply than he’d like.

  He tried to push the thought from his brain and focus. Worrying about Sayrid’s feelings was not going to protect her or his lands. Until he knew for certain where Regin’s loyalty lay, he had to treat him with caution, though it gave him no pleasure.

  He moved squarely in the centre of his men with Sayrid on his right. He kept his hand firmly on her back, preventing her from moving and rushing towards her brother. She gave him a furious scowl, but he ignored it.

  When Regin saw his sister, he blanched and nearly fell off his horse. ‘Sayrid! What are you doing here?’

  ‘I could ask you the same question.’ Sayrid’s eyes blazed fury. ‘I understood you were visiting your mother. Did you ask our sister to lie for you? Do you know the trouble you have caused? Auda is now a hostage.’

  Hrolf dropped a casual arm about her shoulders. She stood stiff and unyielding. He tried to read her thoughts, but she’d closed down. Silently he cursed the wager and his arrogance.

  Whatever Regin Avilson was up to, it did not involve his sister. Yet. And if Sayrid had to make a choice? His stomach knotted. He wanted to believe she’d choose him. He wanted to believe that she shared some of his feelings. It struck him then that he loved her in a way which took hold deep down inside and frightened him.

  ‘It can’t be.’ Regin’s eyes darted everywhere but on Sayrid’s face.

  ‘Well, it is, because of your actions!’ Sayrid’s body quivered with anger. ‘Our baby sister!’

  Hrolf silently ground his teeth.

  ‘Easy,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Just because you lost our wager doesn’t mean you need to take out your anger on your brother.’

  She shrugged off the arm. ‘How can you joke at a time like this?’

  ‘I assure you, I am not joking.’

  ‘Regin, what are you doing here with these men?’ Sayrid advanced towards her brother.

  Hrolf instinctively readied his body for a fight.

  Regin went red and then white. ‘That is…well…’ He glanced back at Blodvin, who gave a confident nod. ‘Blodvin knows why. She can explain it better than I can.’

  Blodvin swiftly slid off the horse and curtsied low to Hrolf, totally ignoring the usual protocol and not even acknowledging Sayrid. Hrolf schooled his features. They might be Sayrid’s relations, but he’d encourage them to depart as swiftly as they came. Then maybe Sayrid and he could continue to enjoy each other. And he could keep her from being hurt.

  ‘I felt unwell and wished to return home.’ Blodvin ran her fingers over her growing stomach. ‘I worried about my precious babe.’

  For good measure she batted her lashes as if she expected him to become a puddle at her feet. Hrolf silently thanked whichever god had been looking out for him when the proposed marriage to that ill-mannered witch had been interrupted and he’d encountered Sayrid instead. Sayrid with her good sense was what he needed, but he still had to wonder whose side she’d choose in a fight. His or her brother’s.

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘It is the truth,’ Blodvin declared hotly. ‘Tell him, Regin, tell your new brother. We had barely gone a few miles when I suddenly knew that I had to come here until the baby was born. My baby who will be born in his father’s hall.’

  Sayrid’s brother stammered and looked everywhere but at Sayrid. ‘It is like Blodvin says. I thought it best to return here. Our babe should be born in the hall of his fathers.’

  ‘It is my hall now.’

  Sayrid stepped forward. ‘What Hrolf means is that you are welcome to rest here while one of the outlying farms is made ready for you.’

  ‘I want one with a good aspect,’ Blodvin declared. ‘Tell them, Regin. Only the best for our child.’

  Hrolf felt sorry for the man. He was under his wife’s thumb and the marriage had barely begun. He was one of those who hid behind his wife’s skirts.

  ‘You expected Sayrid and me to remain with Kettil,’ he stated flatly. ‘Any particular reason?’

  Regin scuffed his toe in the dirt. ‘It crossed my mind that you might have duties there, but obviously I was wrong.’

  ‘And your travelling companions?’ Hrolf asked, keeping his voice smooth and ignoring Sayrid’s sudden intake of breath. ‘Were they on their way here?’

  ‘Men we met on the road,’ Blodvin answered, coming forward with a distinct sway to her hips. She allowed her cloak to gape open. Her blouse exposed a little more flesh than strictly necessary. ‘They needed a place to rest. One must offer hospitality.’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘What is wrong with that?’ Blodvin allowed her cloak to open a little more. ‘Why are you trying to make out that we have done something wrong?’

  Hrolf schooled his features. It irritated him that Blodvin considered he’d be distracted by such obvious measures. He glanced between his wife and the woman he had nearly married. There was no comparison. He had to wonder what he’d ever fleetingly seen in Blodvin and why he’d ever considered that she might be the correct sort of wife for him.

  ‘Hrolf,’ Sayrid said with a sharp edge to her voice. ‘Do you have proof that these men mean to cause harm? And my brother?’

  ‘While you rest under this roof, I will have your swords,’ Hrolf replied, inclining his head towards the leader of the band. ‘I will vouch for your protection while you are within my walls.’

  He motioned to his men who formed a barrier behind him. ‘I assume you mean us no harm.’

  The men exchanged glances and with the briefest of hesitations began to lay down their wide variety of arms. Hrolf regarded each in turn. The second to the last reminded him of one of Lavrans’s men, but he couldn’t be sure. He wished Bragi was there as the man’s memory for faces was unsurpassed.

  The last one stood in front of t
he weapons pile and bared his teeth. He looked Sayrid up and down as if he were mentally undressing her. ‘Your wife?’

  Hrolf curled his fists. ‘Is there a problem with that?’

  The man gave a little swagger. ‘No, no, I had heard the Shield Maiden had married. What does it feel like to be married to a Valkyrie? Or is she too wild for you?’

  Hrolf heard the swift intake of breath echo around the yard. Sayrid went rigid next to him and her eyes were fastened on a distant point.

  ‘You are a guest in this house. I suggest you behave like one.’ Hrolf fixed the man with a deadly gaze. His fingers itched to draw his sword, but the man was unarmed. And right now he did not want to give anyone a pretext.

  Silently he gave thanks that Sayrid had chosen not to react. Any other woman would have demanded his head, but Sayrid simply stood still. Hrolf’s heart unexpectedly panged. She had clearly suffered this sort of behaviour many times before.

  ‘A simple question.’ The man raised his hands. ‘Curiosity got the better of me.’

  ‘Do not allow it to get the better of you again.’ Hrolf inclined his head. ‘The lady is my wife and will have your respect.’

  The man blanched, clearly understanding the threat. ‘I most humbly beg your pardon, Shield…my lady.’

  ‘My husband is a more than able opponent as I discovered to my cost. Provoke him at your peril.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘You have this warning because you are our guest. But these warnings are only given once.’

  If possible the man went even paler and he stumbled away.

  ‘Sayrid, if anyone makes any more remarks, you will let me know.’

  She stared straight back at him. ‘I fight my own battles. Without assistance.’

  ‘Attack you and they attack me.’

  Sayrid opened and closed her mouth several times. Finally she shrugged. ‘As you wish, but I can defend myself. I’ve never sheltered behind anyone and I’m not about to start.’

  Hrolf struggled to keep his temper. He knew that physically she could defend herself more than adequately. But he knew how vulnerable Sayrid was behind the fierce mask she wore. The way he felt about her was far too new to be shared.

  ‘Remember who won the wager!’

  She contented herself with crossing her arms and scowling. ‘If you wanted a compliant wife, you married the wrong woman.’

  ‘Best do as he says, Say.’ Regin gave a smug smile. ‘Upsetting a sea king is a bad idea. He obviously has set ideas on how a woman should act. Pity.’

  He gave Regin a hard look. The man delighted in causing mischief. ‘Put your weapons in the pile as well.’

  ‘I’ve no wish to fall out with my new brother-in-law,’ Regin said, making a mocking bow after he’d placed his sword on top of the pile, a sword so shiny Hrolf doubted if it had ever been drawn in battle. It took all of Hrolf’s training not to punch him, particularly when he thought about the scars Sayrid bore and the battered sword she had used in their fight.

  Blodvin bleated excuses before they both fled.

  ‘Your brother has seen sense,’ Hrolf said between gritted teeth. ‘A pity.’

  ‘What is going on?’ Sayrid asked as she struggled to control her temper. First Regin appeared with a group of strangers who appeared more inclined to rob than to trade and then Hrolf appeared to want to demonstrate his ownership of the lands and her. Just when she had thought they were getting on better. ‘Why are you baiting my brother like that? What great wrong has he done you other than being related to me?’

  Hrolf’s jaw became even more set. ‘Your brother is a guest under my roof. He must abide by the same rules. It is fair.’

  ‘He lives here. He has always done.’ Sayrid pointed towards where Hrolf’s men stood with their swords clearly visible. ‘Are they to lose their weapons in the interests of fairness?’

  ‘They are pledged to me. I would trust them with my life and the lives of my family. Most women would never question their husband in this fashion.’

  Sayrid stared at him in disbelief and growing frustration. ‘I married you, but I didn’t suddenly become ignorant. You ought to be listening to my counsel, instead of just bedding me.’

  He massaged her back. ‘Bedding you is more pleasurable.’

  She ignored the warm tingle which accompanied his caress. He seemed to think that all he had to do was touch her and she’d go along with his plans. ‘Do you want Regin to swear an oath to you?’

  Hrolf shrugged. ‘It is a matter for him, but I only want warriors who are prepared to fight.’ His eyes hardened. ‘It must be his decision, Sayrid, without your help.’

  ‘You are a hard man.’

  ‘But I’m alive. What is mine, I keep safe, and that includes you.’

  When the last of the weapons were deposited, Hrolf’s men led the group off to the hall.

  Hrolf and Sayrid remained standing in front of the pile of swords, axes and assorted knives. Sayrid kicked one of the swords with her foot. Hrolf had warned her about the wager, but she’d been so certain. And now she’d lost any chance to train with the men. She had a bad feeling about these guests.

  ‘Your considered opinion?’ Hrolf asked, catching her elbow. ‘Before you retire to the kitchens to look after the food and ale.’

  She started. He was actually asking her opinion. ‘I thought you were only interested in one thing from me.’

  ‘Our guests have retired.’

  Sayrid assessed him under her lashes. He was playing some sort of game with their guests. But it was her chance to demonstrate her knowledge and make him see that she could do more than simply supervise the women. ‘Far too many. And two kept knives down their boots.’

  ‘What else?’

  Sayrid studied the axes. ‘They are from the East. Known to you.’

  A dimple played in the corner of his mouth. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘You had best tell me what you know. Keeping me in the dark serves no good purpose.’ Sayrid put a hand on his arm. ‘I hate begging.’

  ‘I shall remind you of that later. Sometimes begging can be fun.’ His voice dropped to husky note and there was a distinct gleam in his eye.

  Her gaze dropped and she saw the evidence of his arousal.

  Her face flamed and she glanced over her shoulder. Two of Hrolf’s men hastily pretended to be doing something else. ‘You delight in speaking nonsense.’

  He raised her hand to his lips. ‘Only when it brings colour to your cheeks.’

  Her heart skipped a beat. She hated that she wanted the unpleasantness of this morning to go. He’d been right about her brother arriving here, but she knew in her heart Regin would never do anything to harm her. ‘Hrolf, trust me to do the right thing.’

  Hrolf’s brow knitted. ‘Something is wrong. It is too much of a coincidence. First the sabotage on my ship and then your brother shows up here with a war band, expecting these lands to be undefended. He is the traitor, Sayrid. All the evidence points to it. I’m sorry.’

  She pulled away from his grasp. All the heat leached out of her, leaving her cold. He was deliberately using her attraction to him to bend her to his will. As if a simple touch would make her forget her duty towards her family.

  ‘Trust you to jump to the wrong conclusion about my brother.’ She poured scorn into her voice. ‘This is all about Blodvin changing her mind about meeting my stepmother and getting cold feet. Blodvin can be very impetuous and only thinks afterwards.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘I have some sympathy with her plight as my stepmother is a strong-minded woman and will be less than pleased that Regin married without a dowry.’ Sayrid gave a shrug. ‘I suspect she was trying to get Regin away before he actually caused problems and then realized what she was getting into, once Regin sobered up enough to remember what his mother can be like.’

  ‘I wonder what it will take before you see matters how they truly are. Your brother does you no favours.’

  Sayrid’s mouth went dry. Here she had thought Hrolf m
ight actually care for her, but in reality he had been trying to bind her to him.

  The reason for leaving so quickly now became clear. He had expected Regin to behave in this fashion. She didn’t know who she wanted to shake more, Hrolf for being willing to believe the worst or Regin for falling into the trap.

  ‘My brother would never do anything to jeopardize the hall or these lands. They are in his blood.’

  ‘But they no longer belong to him. He had an expectation if you died without marrying, but now nothing.’

  ‘He would never make an alliance with Lavrans.’

  ‘Many men have done worse for less.’

  ‘He knows the vengeance Lavrans has sworn against this family. Why would he side with our sworn enemy?’

  Hrolf’s eyes glittered. ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’

  ‘Except in this case you are wrong. Regin knows you are far from the enemy. He knows you have an alliance with Kettil.’ Sayrid crossed her arms and stared at the pile of weapons. Hrolf was right. There were far too many for peaceable travellers. And even Regin would have been much more wary about picking up travellers. ‘He does have brains.’

  Hrolf sighed. ‘Your brother has a history of doing ill-considered things which you then have to clean up. You are far too soft with him.’

  ‘I should have behaved more like my father?’ Sayrid enquired in a low voice, clinging to her temper. More than ever she wished that she had not hesitated. Hrolf had no right to lecture her in that way.

  ‘There comes a time when a man has to stand on his own two feet.’

  Sayrid wanted to hit something hard. Hrolf knew nothing of the history of what Regin had suffered. He should have guessed from her scars.

  ‘You know much about my family.’

  ‘I know more than I did at this time yesterday. People will talk with the right persuasion.’

  ‘You bribed people to learn about my family?’ She blinked rapidly.

  ‘It is amazing how many people wanted to speak up. They all have the same sort of conclusion.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘You have done much to bring about the present prosperity this house currently enjoys and your brother rather less.’