Tara: Taken (Sneak Peek)
Captured and enslaved. Will he be able to find her in time? Will she ever return to her homeland?
On an innocent day out with her mother and sisters, Tara is suddenly snatched by Viking raiders. Unable to escape, she soon finds herself on a longship bound for the land of Norowegr and life as a slave. She is certain she will never see her homeland or her family again. Horror engulfs her as she looks to a hopeless future in a land known for its cruelty to slaves.
As a travelling merchant, Erik often visits marketplaces around the land to trade and stock up on supplies. One day as he is approaching the marketplace, a chain of slaves approaches. As they pass, he catches the eye of a stunning woman and right away, he knows that he cannot rest until he learns more about her.
The following day, he goes to the slave auction where he intends to bid for her. But she is beautiful and the bidding is fierce. The price goes above what he can afford and he watches in horror as she is bought by the man who destroyed his village and killed his parents.
Erik is desperate to rescue her from a life of tyranny. But will he be able to find her? Can he set her free without his enemy finding him?
Tara faces a horrifying future as the-slave of a cruel man. Will she ever see her homeland again?
CHAPTER 1
“Today is the day,” Aine declared. “The men will be gone tomorrow and the moon is in the right phase. Today we will collect the plants. Tomorrow, we will start the dyeing process. Tara, go tell your sisters that we will go soon.”
As Tara hurried down the road to her eldest sister’s house, she found herself looking forward to the day. She enjoyed helping her mother and sisters collect the plants they would need to dye the cloth for making their clothes. It was a fun outing with her sisters and their children; she was the only one still at home, not yet married, and she missed the company of the older girls.
Soon they had gathered baskets and pouches and set off across the fields towards the river Tolka. Tara glanced back at her home village of Mullach Eadartha, nestled cozily into the landscape. It wasn’t often that they left the safety of the village, but gathering materials for dyeing cloth was one such occasion. It was true; the finngail were in the area but it was unlikely that they would come so far up the river. No one had seen any of the fair-haired foreigners for some time and the villagers felt safe enough to relax a little.
“Do you think the finngail will find us?” Caireann asked anxiously.
Tara smiled at her niece; of all the children, she bore the greatest resemblance to Tara, with red, curly hair and freckles. “No one has seen any lately,” she said. “We should stay alert but not be worried.” She put her arm around the younger girl’s shoulders. “Worry would just spoil a good day out, would it not?”
Reassured, Caireann ran ahead to play with the other children. It wasn’t often that they got away from the village and they were excited and happy. It was a good day to be alive, and Tara tried to push away the lingering concerns about the finngail. These cruel foreigners were known for raiding and plundering and capturing slaves. No one had ever heard of a person who had been taken ever returning. They vanished, never to be seen again. The villagers were terrified of the finngail, with good reason. They left families bereft of loved ones, looted and pillaged crops and valuables, and acted without mercy.
But today, Tara felt safe. The fields were green, the crops were growing, and the sun was shining. The happy laughter of the children filled the air and she was enjoying the company of her sisters again.
They reached the river and found a large patch of elderberries, perfect for purple dye.
“Look, Mother!” Eachna exclaimed. “Look at the trom! We will be able to make lots of dye from that!”
“You are learning well, Daughter,” Fianna smiled. “Soon you will be able to do some yourself.”
Soon everyone was busy picking, filling baskets and pouches with the dark berries. The older children watched the babies and toddlers while their mothers picked and talked, their tongues moving even faster than their hands. They moved along the riverbank as they worked their way through the large patch of elderberries.
Tara found herself searching for more berries ahead of the group and was surprised when she saw a footbridge leading across the river. Someone had gone to the trouble to make a crossing to the fields on the other side. Without thinking, she jumped lightly onto the footbridge and crossed over, intending to check on the quality and quantity of the berries.
But before she’d had a chance to take more than a couple of steps away from the bridge, strong hands grabbed her from behind and a second later, she was hoisted over the shoulder of a large man. She screamed and struggled, almost faint with horror as she realized that it was the finngail. He slapped her, hard, and she screamed again as he ran along the riverbank with her. He took her around the bend, scampered nimbly down the bank, and dumped her in the bottom of a boat. She screamed again and tried to get up, but he pushed her down and tied her hands behind her back and her feet together, cruel laughter mocking her cries. Then he wrapped a cloth around her mouth and forced her to lie in the bottom of the boat.
Several other men appeared and soon the boat was moving swiftly downstream, towards the finngail settlement of Dubh Linn. Hot tears poured down Tara’s cheeks but it was useless; she was unable to move or speak and her captors were certainly in no mood for mercy. She wondered what would become of her. Would she die? Would they kill her?
“Oh God, have mercy,” she prayed as best she could around the cloth in her mouth. “Save me, please God, I beg of You. Mary, have mercy! Return me to my home, please!”
She had grown up going to Mass in the little church in the next village but it had been her grandmother who had passed on her faith. Móraí had shown her what it meant to serve the God of heaven; she seemed to have a personal friendship with Him. Although Tara couldn’t claim to have His ear the way Móraí had, she firmly believed that He could be entreated for help in times of need. He was her only hope now.
“Here, have this.” A large man with a red beard tossed Tara a blanket and motioned for her to lie down at the end of the longhouse with several other women, all of whom had been kidnapped that day.
Tara was surprised to hear him speak in her language; she had only heard her captors speaking in a foreign tongue. She took the blanket, grateful to wrap herself in its warmth. The men had so far treated them well, giving them food and water and allowing them to use the outhouse. Two large warriors stood guard at the only entrance to the longhouse, making escape impossible, so the women were untied and left to their own devices.
“What are they going to do with us, do you know?” Tara whispered to a girl about her own age.
“I know not. But I would rather die than be subject to them.” Even in the dim light inside the longhouse, the girl looked fierce and proud.
“If we cooperate, perhaps they will treat us well,” Tara said.
“I will never cooperate with those pigs!” the girl spat.
“Sshh! Let us listen! They are speaking our language!” Tara hissed.
“We have enough,” she heard a man say.
“Then we shall leave in the morning. We are ready.”
Leave? Where were they going? Did this plan somehow involve the women? Would the men molest them during the night? Tara wished she knew the answers to those questions; she was determined to stay awake, but after the long and harrowing day, she couldn’t keep her eyes open and despite her resolve, was soon sound asleep.
“Wake up!”
Tara awoke with a start to find the large man with the red beard prodding her with his boot. She shook her head, disoriented. Then the horror of the previous day came flooding back and she covered her face with her hands, trying to stem the flow of tears that came with a tsunami of terror. What would happen to her today?
The girl she’d spoken to last night sat up and swore at the large man. He responded with a swift kick to her thigh. Th
e girl screamed and stood up, ready to fight, but the man grabbed both of her hands and tied them together, muttering something in his own language.
“You will learn to obey,” he told the girl. “There will be more punishment if you do not.”
After breakfast, the finngail gathered up their belongings and left the longhouse, returning a short time later.
“We are leaving now,” Red Beard said. “You will come with us.”
He and two other men marched the women down to the water, where a much larger boat was waiting. Its sails were folded, but men were loosening the ropes in preparation for the journey. Tara was desperate to know where they were going.
“Where are we going?” she timidly asked Red Beard.
“To Norowegr,” he answered shortly.
Norowegr? Where was that? She had no idea.
“Are these women the last of the slaves?” another man asked Red Beard.
“Yes. Once they are on board, we can leave,” he replied. “The tide is right so let us waste no time.”
Slaves? They were to be slaves? Horror engulfed every fiber of Tara’s being and it was all she could do not to burst into an uncontrollable fit of screaming and weeping. But she knew enough about the finngail to stay silent. Displays of emotion were seen as weakness by these cruel, hardened raiders. She was far likely to receive better treatment if she remained quiet.
Soon they were settled in the boat and Tara realized that she would never see her beloved homeland again. She had stood on its shores for the last time. She would never again gaze at its green fields or rolling hills. Tears blinded her eyes as the boat pushed off, a stiff breeze catching the sails, traitorous in its efforts to carry her away from her homeland. She looked back as long as she could but soon the land of her birth was a speck in the distance. She put her head down in her hands as tears rolled down her cheeks, wishing she could die.
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When Halvar takes his younger sister Freja to the festival of the Disting, he expects her to be on her best behavior. After all, she’s supposed to be finding a husband.
But Freja cannot help herself. Wild and free-spirited, she is a skilled archer and a keen competitor who ignores the rules for women in her society. She finds a way to join the men-only archery competition and her talent catches the eye of a jarl, who decides he must meet her.
Freja’s mind is as sharp as her aim and she eagerly engages in the discussions surrounding the politics of the land. The jarl has never met a woman like Freja and he cannot stop thinking about her.
But with trouble looming in the form of a new king, the jarl must do his best to keep his people safe and he is forced to attend to political matters. When the crisis passes, the jarl’s thoughts turn to Freja. Is the difference in their social status too great? Can they be together? Or must the jarl bow to the will of the people and take a wife who will offer a political advantage?
This sweet and clean novella is set in the days of Norway’s King Haakon the Good, a time when the Vikings left their homelands to raid and plunder; when Christianity was making tentative approaches and kings fought for the right to rule.
MORE TITLES BY KAITLYNN CLARKSON
Eira: Banished. Book 1 in the Viking Guardians series.
Eira has some unusual talents. Unfortunately, they land her in so much trouble that even her father, a mighty warrior, cannot save her. She finds herself alone, banished to a village that doesn’t want her and facing hostile strangers with nowhere to go.
Things go from bad to worse and Eira is certain that her end has come. But when Halvar, the village chieftain, comes to her rescue, she’s safe. Or so she thinks.
When fresh trouble finds her, she is forced to flee into the forest for her own safety. Will Halvar be able to find her in time to save her life? Can she trust him with her heart?
This sweet and clean novella is set in the days of Norway’s King Haakon the Good, a time when the Vikings left their homelands to raid and plunder; when Christianity was making tentative approaches and kings fought for the right to rule. It can be read as a standalone or enjoyed as the first of a series.
CRESCENT HEAD SERIES
Meet Me At Crescent Head. This is Book 1 of the Crescent Head series.
Madison Allan isn’t looking for love. She’s peacefully enjoying a holiday with her family. But when a good-looking surfer falls at her feet in the most adverse of circumstances, she starts to think about it. Greg is not only handsome, but he’s also thoughtful, funny and generous. But when a misunderstanding arises, it triggers painful memories of the past and threatens to tear them apart forever. An unexpected encounter forces Madison to be honest with herself – but can she be honest with Greg?
ABOUT KAITLYNN CLARKSON
Kaitlynn Clarkson writes sweet, mostly Christian romance stories with the intention of making her readers feel good. She loves to make people smile. She writes both contemporary and historical fiction.
When she’s not engaged in sunshiny activities or writing feel-good stories, Kaitlynn is dealing with the real world. This includes life on a farm on the Mid North Coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she lives with her husband and two children. She loves to play the piano and trombone in her spare time.
You can follow Kaitlynn on Facebook. You can also find her on Goodreads and Bookbub.
Sigrid: Spurned (Viking Guardians Book 4) Page 9
