Dagmar put her hand over the daggers in her belt. Strictly speaking, she should mention them, but he hadn’t asked for them back. She hated being unarmed. ‘Nothing at all. Why?’
He gave her a hard stare. ‘No reason.’
He strode off without a backward glance and she had to run to keep up. They marched along for a little while without Aedan saying anything. Every now and then, he gave her a glower. Dagmar winced as she missed the easy camaraderie that had sprung up between them last night and early this morning.
‘What are you angry about now?’ she asked before he had the opportunity to make good his implied threat and made her try the gown on. ‘I haven’t worn a gown in a very long time. Not for years. Not since I was blooded as a shield maiden. I see no reason to start now. It might give my father ideas.’
Aedan’s mouth became a thin white line. ‘Who says I’m angry about your refusal to wear the gown?’
‘I do. I thought we belonged as a team.’ She tapped her foot on the ground. ‘How can we be one if you go storming off without an explanation? Why do you consider it imperative for me to wear it? I can travel much faster if I’m not tripping over the hem all the time.’
He stopped and put the pack down. ‘You want to be a team? Truly?’
‘I said I did.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I can see how you’d be a handy warrior to have around after the marshes. And Mor’s value is beyond question. I’ve no wish to lose either of you. We’re going to my father’s so that you can win your wager and free your people. After that, we part.’
‘If you seek to bargain with me, simply come out with it.’
‘What are you talking about? What have I done besides refusing to wear the gown in front of my father!’ She crossed her arms. ‘It is really none of your business what I wear when I greet him. The important thing from your perspective is that I am there.’
‘The blasted gown has nothing to do with it! Stop going on about it or I will personally shove it over your head!’
‘Out with it. How have I upset you this time? What little thing besides killing two men who threatened us.’
‘I can see where you secured that dagger, Dagmar. You have made no attempt to return it to me. Nor did you seek to hand me the knife you retrieved from your captor. You never discussed if I felt comfortable travelling with you, fully armed.’
‘You never asked for them! Two knives is not fully armed, not in the slightest.’
‘But you killed two men with only one.’
‘I had assumed you would see the sense in me having them. We’ve no idea what other creatures we’re going to meet along the way.’
‘I asked you if you had forgotten to do anything. You knew the dagger was mine and that I might have cause to need it.’
Dagmar lifted her chin. When he put it that way, she could understand why he was upset. ‘You marched off without a backward glance. How could I know you wanted it back? I assumed that you would prefer me to be armed if we encountered the robbers again. Their gang may even now be massing. You need me armed. I simply gave you the benefit of the doubt.’
An edited version of the truth, but Dagmar knew she couldn’t confess about how vulnerable she felt back in the hut being unarmed, and how much safer she felt with a weapon. Being armed was as natural as breathing.
The hardness of his face increased. ‘A simple request would have done. I’d have said yes. Like you, I am aware of the possibility for further attack. Either we work together or we don’t. A fellowship cannot hold if there are two leaders.’
She scuffed the toe of her boot in the mud. ‘I’m asking now since it obviously means so much to you. Please, Aedan mac Connall, sir, please may I have these two daggers? Satisfied?’
He continued to glare at her with lowered brows as if she were a spoilt child.
‘Can I help it if you were careless with your dagger?’ she added. ‘I’ve learned to take advantage of the opportunities life presents.’
‘Careless? You wrong me.’ He made a disgusted noise. ‘I left it for you to find, deliberately. When I adjusted the cloak, I dropped it for you. There was no time for explanations. I assumed you were intelligent, but that you were no thief.’
Dagmar winced. He had not been stroking her hair or giving her any type of caress. And from his perspective, she had stolen something from him. She held out his dagger. ‘I’m sorry I mistook the situation. I made a grave error in not returning this to you immediately. Forgive me? Please?’
He tilted his head to one side. ‘Why should I trust you?’
‘You’re in no danger from me. Once I’ve given my word, particularly when I’ve sworn on my mother’s shade, I keep it. We’re allies.’ She took the other dagger out of her belt. ‘But if me being armed bothers you that much, you may have them both. Your trust is more important to me than my safety. I will cope somehow if we encounter the robbers. I always do. My mother taught me well.’
‘As long as no one attacks you from behind.’
‘Well, there is that.’
Her heart thumped so loudly that she thought he must hear it. The knot in her stomach had eased when she had the daggers. She hated feeling powerless and alone as she did in her nightmares and as she actually had in the forest when they had departed from her father’s compound and she’d encountered the berserker. And she had the uncomfortable feeling that the unknown warrior in her dream bore a distinct resemblance to Aedan.
He made no move to take the knives from her. ‘If we are allies, then we put more distance between us and that hut, before that boy returns with the remainder of the gang. Before they meet someone who starts asking awkward questions about an escaped shield maiden.’
He started to walk away, but she put a hand on his arm.
‘And the daggers?’
‘Keep them. You are little use to me unarmed. And you are right—I, too, find it hard to trust.’
Dagmar made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. ‘I swear I will never understand you Gaels!’
‘I wanted to see what you would do. Did you actually value our alliance or were you merely mouthing words?’ He gave a sudden smile, transforming his face and it was like the clouds parting. ‘Your apology was unexpected, but very welcome.’
Dagmar roughly put the daggers back in her belt and mentally scolded her body for noticing him. There would be so many women panting after him that he would never be interested in anyone like her. ‘Glad to see you have an iota of sense in your head, Gael.’
‘Besides, Mor likes you.’ He shrugged. ‘And I trust her judgement. You are part of this felag but you also must realise that I am in charge. You do as I say.’
Dagmar waggled her fingers at Mor who came and gave them a lick. She gave a quiet smile. There was no must about anything, but he would learn—she only obeyed as long as it suited her purpose.
‘A felag works better with one leader. You appear to know where we are going. I will follow your orders as long as you do not force me to wear a dress.’
Aedan knelt down and spoke to Mor. ‘What do you say, Mor? Shall we give Dagmar a second chance? Do we agree to her terms?’
Mor gave a sharp bark of assent and did a few spins, running between Aedan and Dagmar.
‘You see your dog agrees. Stop testing me. The sooner we arrive at my father’s, the sooner we can both get back to our lives.’
‘Mor likes you. For some reason.’ He gave a smile that warmed her down to her toes. ‘I promise I won’t force you to wear the gown. But I’m sure you will come to the correct decision about that on your own.’
‘You have a slim grasp on reality. I begin to understand why my father decided to wager with you,’ she said loudly. ‘He believes he will gain your land no matter what.’
‘Yet here you are heading towards your father’s within the allotted time.’ A glint appeared in his eyes. ‘Would you care f
or a wager?’
‘I’ve agreed to help because it suits my purpose.’
The dimple appeared in his cheek. ‘About something else.’
‘I won’t be wearing that gown ever.’ Dagmar crossed her arms over her suddenly tingling breasts. ‘You can forget wagering about that!’
The dimple deepened. ‘You do like to make pronouncements about what you will and won’t do. When will you learn that I do enjoy a challenge?’
Dagmar ground her teeth. He was treating her with amused contempt as though she was a young child, instead of a fully grown warrior who had weathered five years of campaigning. ‘I state facts.’
His eyes began to dance. ‘Here I thought you enjoyed issuing challenges. I stand corrected. But for the future, be aware I seldom back away from a challenge, particularly when it’s issued by a beautiful woman.’
Dagmar glared at him. ‘Your eyesight needs improvement.’
His face grew serious. ‘I know enough about you.’
‘Like what?’
‘I know you have led a hard life, harder than most women of your rank could comprehend or endure, that you idolised your mother and that you were right—Thorsten’s shield wall was breaking when Olafr and his allies switched sides. It was your determined leadership that did that. You dispatched those robbers without hesitation or hysterics. You are the sort of warrior I’d be proud to have in my fellowship.’
Dagmar stared at him. Aedan was praising her. He appreciated her skills. And he could have left her in ignorance about why the battle had been lost. She struggled to think when her mother had last praised her beyond a quiet well done.
‘As long as I obey you. As long as I acknowledge your leadership and don’t keep weapons without asking first.’
‘My felag. My rules.’ He gave another smile, this one lighting his entire face.
Dagmar hated that his smile turned her insides to liquid. She had to stop feeling attracted to him before the ultimate humiliation happened, before she started believing he might be the one man who could see into the depths of her soul and understand her inner desires.
She found it impossible to dismiss the notion that Aedan wanted something more than simply winning his wager with her father. Until she figured out Aedan’s game, she’d keep her attraction to him under control. Even though she’d dreamt of being more than just a sell-sword, she could see now her mother was right—she could not afford to be beholden to any man.
Chapter Five
The dangerous oozing mud and squelching moss of the marsh rapidly gave way to scrubland and then strips of cultivated fields, punctuated with small stands of trees and the occasional dwelling. Once they reached a well-travelled road which led vaguely west, Aedan picked up the pace. Dagmar matched him stride for stride, never complaining. He struggled to think of any woman he knew who would do that.
The heavy rain from last night left puddles to be skirted around, but it had become a fine autumn day where the sun held more than a hint of warmth, the sort of day that always gave Aedan hope. Things would work out. Finally he would be able to prove that he was worthy of being King, and he would be able to save the hostages by returning this woman to her father. Once he had done that, she would become someone else’s problem.
Aedan watched Dagmar from under his lashes. Today, she had done her hair in a simple braid which, when she looped it over her shoulder, revealed the slender column of her neck. Aedan returned his eyes firmly to the road ahead and tried to think of Mhairi patiently waiting for her rescue and how grateful she’d be to him. But it was no good, Mhairi held no physical attraction for him. Her dark beauty was the sort his brother had admired. However, for Aedan, it reminded him far too much of Brigid and the mistakes he’d made.
Mor gave a low whine. Aedan glanced over and saw that Dagmar had gone white about her mouth. He gave a soft curse. The woman needed to rest, but stubbornly refused to admit it to anyone, let alone herself. He doubted if he had ever met someone that determinedly stubborn before.
‘We will rest and eat here.’ He gestured towards a flat rock that overlooked a small pond just to one side of the path they had been following. ‘We’ve put enough distance between us and that gang of murdering thieves. We missed breakfast.’
Her bottom lip jutted out. ‘I can go further. No need to stop on my account.’
He recalled her screams in the night, begging someone to wait for her. How many times had her mother refused to stop until Dagmar ceased to listen to the demands of her body? She might idolise her mother, but Aedan wanted to shake the woman.
‘Stop flattering yourself. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my empty stomach. We stop when I say—my felag, remember?’
Dagmar gave one of her smiles which lit her eyes and took his breath away. ‘I’m in no mood to fight you for the leadership. We can stop and eat.’
‘There has been enough fighting for today.’
‘I so agree.’ She sank down on to a dry rock and gathered her knees to her chest. Her plait looped over one shoulder and pointed to the shadowy vee where her skin met her tunic. Unable to stop, he watched how her chest rose and fell. Her breasts seemed more curved than he remembered. Did she have to bind them?
Aedan scratched his nose and tried to ignore the way his body tightened in response to his thoughts.
‘What a perfect spot,’ she said arching her back and causing her chest to jut out more. He’d be willing to wager that she did bind them.
‘It is rather beautiful.’
‘No, it is the perfect spot to rest without fear of being attacked.’ She leant forward. ‘Getting the best ground possible is the first requirement to winning a battle. Although sometimes you have to make the best of what you have.’
‘Do you ever think of things beyond warfare?’
‘Is there something wrong with that? It is how I have lived my life.’ She tilted her chin. ‘It saves me having to think about the past or the future.’
‘Life is more than such things. Life is about enjoying sunsets over crystal-clear bays, finding the first buds of spring after a hard winter, and a good meal with fresh clothes on your back with a solid roof over your head and a roaring fire in the hearth. It is about being with the ones you love and knowing that they love you back.’
‘You are a man of simple tastes.’
‘Try it. Try talking about something which isn’t war or strategy.’
Dagmar was silent for a long heartbeat. ‘My belly aches from hunger. We neglected breakfast.’
Aedan burst out laughing.
‘What? What is wrong with that? That is something different than war and battle.’
Aedan cast his eyes heavenward. ‘I can’t promise how fresh the cheese and hard bread are.’
‘It will fill a hole. Simple pleasures, yes?’
She bent her head and he could see the long sweep of her neck. She was daintily boned. It seemed almost impossible that someone who was so exquisite would be a deadly killing machine whose sole interest appeared to be the art of warfare. He blamed her mother who had trained her that there was no other way to survive except as a sell-sword. She had kept Dagmar as a tightly closed bud rather than allowing her to flower and develop as a woman and Aedan loathed her for it.
Someone else would ensure the full flowering happened. When she arrived at her father’s, there would be many warriors waiting for the favour of her hand, even if she’d had a face like a rocky cliff and was the size of a small hut. The fact that she possessed a smile which could light up the darkest of days, translucent skin and hair like a golden cloud, would mean even more warriors eager to vie for her hand. A stab of jealousy shot through him.
Kolbeinn had made it very clear—he wanted an excellent marriage for his daughter. He would use her as a counter in his quest to gain ever more power. When he’d departed, his ears rang with the warning fro
m Kolbeinn’s latest mistress—Kolbeinn would not take kindly to a Gaelic warrior with a minor kingdom worming his way into the daughter’s affections; Kolbeinn had big plans for her.
He’d have to find another way to keep her bad dreams at bay. This morning could not be repeated for the sake of his people and kingdom. They’d suffered enough because of his failings. He’d nearly brushed her dawn-kissed mouth with his.
Even now as she thoughtfully chewed the last of the hardened bread, she only had to give him a sideways look and his body which, since he had learned of Brigid’s betrayal and subsequent death had felt encased in ice, responded. He was worse than a youth who’d just discovered that girls were a very different proposition.
Once they reached a village, he’d use some of the gold he’d liberated earlier to get swift horses for them both. The sooner she was safely installed in her father’s household, the sooner he could get the hostages released. Redemption was within his grasp if he could only control his desire.
‘Are you going to tell me what is troubling you? You appear very serious suddenly,’ Dagmar said, dusting her fingers on her trousers and inadvertently tightening her tunic across her chest again.
‘Is something troubling me?’ he said pushing the image of freeing her breasts from his mind.
Her little laugh sent a ripple of warmth down his spine. ‘You wear your fierce expression. It always seems to be a sign of trouble. Has Mor heard more travellers?’
‘I’m trying to figure out how long it will take us to get to where I left my boat,’ Aedan said, opting for a half-truth. ‘Your father will enforce the exact terms of the wager and I don’t want to be even a heartbeat too late. You take after him in some ways.’
‘Take that back!’ Dagmar clenched her fists. ‘I’m nothing like my father. I am entirely like my mother.’
‘Two people made you, Dagmar.’
She ducked her head. ‘Two people may have made me, but only one cared for me.’
‘Now that your mother is dead, your father requires you.’
The Warrior's Viking Bride Page 8
