The Warrior's Viking Bride

by Michelle Styles

Dagmar gave a small shrug. ‘I have learned that it is sometimes best to simply smile and go about one’s business.’

  ‘I brought you a gown.’ The woman’s cheeks became bright red. ‘Not that there is anything wrong with the one you are wearing but it seems far too fine for every day. And Mhairi said that you normally wore trousers.’

  Dagmar stared at the simple wool gown in disbelief. It was a deep blue, but made of serviceable wool. ‘This is for me?’

  ‘It belonged to my daughter Annis, but she is gone now and unlikely to return.’

  ‘What do you mean gone?’

  A shadow of intense sorrow passed over the woman’s face. ‘She is one of the disappeared. She vanished over a year ago. Right before Lord Aedan returned with the stone cross. Hopefully now he is married, Lord Aedan will stay here. When he is around, the Northmen leave us alone. We begged him the last time to stay but...he wanted to rescue the hostages. Other men could have done that. He should have trusted them and now there are rumours that we are about to be attacked, but I don’t believe it.’

  Dagmar fingered the material. The opportunity she’d hoped for was right in front of her. She had to get the words right, but if she did, the woman might become an ally. ‘I’m sorry for your loss. It will be an honour and a privilege to wear such a gown. I will ask Aedan to search for your daughter.’

  ‘Oh, no, my lady. He has already done that, more than a body should. When he is here, he is a far better lord than his brother, no matter what the others say. She simply vanished. I fear for my other daughters.’

  Dagmar pressed her hands together. An opening. ‘I think I may have a solution. I could teach your daughters to protect themselves. I know how to fight.’

  Two bright spots appeared on the woman’s cheeks. ‘I heard the gossip. From Mhairi...you normally wear trousers so you can fight in battles. The Lady of Kintra can’t...wear such things, you understand? Whatever would Father Cathan say? He does preach powerful sermons.’

  Or do such things?

  Dagmar kept the words back with difficulty. She had known what she was giving up when she agreed to the marriage. She had to think that she could do this. That she could do whatever she set her mind to. ‘I’m not advocating your daughters wear trousers. I want to teach them how to defend themselves in case of a raid.’

  ‘I hate to think what Father Cathan would say about that! It is unnatural, ain’t it?’

  ‘Personally, I would rather have Father Cathan bleating in disapproval and my daughters safe at my side than listening to his consoling sermons after they’ve gone missing.’ Dagmar pressed her hands together and willed the woman to understand.

  ‘And if my girls knew how to defend themselves...’

  ‘They wouldn’t be as vulnerable. No one would have to know except for the surprised raider who encountered more than he bargained for.’

  The woman gave a decisive nod. ‘I like your way of thinking. I think you will be good for Kintra.’

  Dagmar fingered the cloth with its intricate pattern. It hadn’t been as hard as she’d feared. ‘Did you weave this?’

  ‘Aye, my lady. That I did.’ The woman cocked her head to one side. ‘Are you having trouble with that loom? It’s a right pain in the arse, if you will excuse my bluntness. Should have been burnt years ago. Lord Aedan’s mother used to supervise the weaving, but she never actually did any herself. And Lord Brandon’s wife brought her own.’

  Dagmar struggled to keep her face straight. ‘That is good to know.’

  The woman nodded. ‘I will send my eldest girl, Keita, along. She is an excellent weaver. And if anyone can get that loom working, she can.’

  Dagmar laughed. ‘Maybe that is something she can teach me.’

  ‘Aye, if a few hints fall from your lips about this here avoiding capture, I’d be right grateful.’

  Dagmar laughed. ‘Now it is my turn to like your way of thinking.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘A new gown?’ Aedan asked when he returned. ‘I preferred the blue one.’

  ‘This one is more serviceable. The blue one is far too fine for everyday work and it needs to be repaired again.

  ‘Where did you get this one? From your father’s trunk?’

  ‘A wedding gift from one of the women here. Apparently Mhairi has been gossiping about my lack of appropriate clothes and my pretensions of being a warrior and several women saw an opportunity.’ Dagmar pressed her hands against her eyes. Her back ached slightly from bending over the loom. With Keita’s help, she had managed to get started. Keita had proved eager to learn about defending herself and they had agreed to meet tomorrow morning.

  Aedan gave a soft laugh. ‘Pretensions, really? I wish all my warriors had those sorts of pretensions.’

  ‘I’m pleased you find it amusing.’ Dagmar concentrated on her small piece of weaving. ‘Mhairi is going to be trouble.’

  ‘Give her time. Mhairi has suffered greatly.’

  ‘She expected to marry you.’

  ‘Hardly her fault, but I married someone else.’ His jaw jutted out. ‘Before she volunteered to be a hostage, I would never have considered her. She can be judgemental, but she does want what is best for Kintra. Give her time. Give everyone time. They will realise how lucky they are to have you as their Lady.’

  Dagmar nodded, believing him about his relationship with Mhairi, but she also knew in her heart that Mhairi had to have had a strong reason for volunteering in the first place. It had to be more than thinking Aedan would marry her. ‘She is going to make my task of winning over the women more difficult.’

  ‘Not everyone approves of her. Concentrate on them first.’

  ‘Like Annis and Keita’s mother. She gave me the gown and sent Keita to help thread the loom. It was a kind thing to do.’

  Aedan’s face became grave. ‘I searched for Annis, but there was no sign of her. Since Sigurd became the Jaarl of Ile, the raids have mostly ceased.’

  Dagmar concentrated on the loom. She should confess about teaching Keita, but Aedan might forbid it. There was a raid coming, she could feel it.

  ‘How are the defence preparations going?’

  ‘Slowly.’ Aedan ran a hand through his hair. ‘My people distrust anything new, something it would appear Father Cathan has encouraged. There are a thousand other disputes they want sorted first.’

  ‘And yet Father Cathan’s stance is new because he has only recently arrived.’

  He gave her a sharp look. ‘You offer a unique perspective.’

  She inclined her head and made a decision. There was little point in adding to Aedan’s troubles. After she had demonstrated that Keita could learn, then she’d confess. ‘I try.’

  He reached for her. ‘And I know what I would like to do. What I was thinking about all during my cousin’s dreary lament about the state of the fishing nets.’

  ‘Maybe it was the same thing I was thinking about.’

  She gave her mouth up to his because it was easier than explaining about her scheme and risking rejection. If only he could see it in operation, then he’d understand why she felt so strongly about it. Begging forgiveness rather than asking permission was by far the better option in the circumstances.

  * * *

  One more day, then she’d confess to Aedan about her training some of the young girls in self-defence. Keita had a natural flair for it. Once she could demonstrate that it could be done, then she was certain that most everyone else on Kintra would want to follow. Keeping the women and children safe was one of the most important parts of running an estate.

  ‘Are you certain that this is the best way to escape from a raider?’ one of Kieta’s friends who was watching the lesson asked. Dagmar had been quietly pleased that the other girls had come to watch.

  ‘Swords are heavy and you may not have one to hand should you be attacked. However, most p
eople carry a knife and if you know how to get your attacker off balance, you can use those precious few heartbeats to run.’

  ‘But please can we try the sticks? I heard you used to be a warrior.’

  ‘I am your lady now.’

  The girl instantly went quiet. ‘No offence, my lady. We have never met a real warrior woman before.’

  ‘Mhairi said that you weren’t a real warrior, that you just liked pretending to be one,’ Keita said. ‘And my second cousin said that all this extra work is not about providing a defence, but because Lord Aedan had given our fishing rights to your father.’

  Dagmar attempted to control her temper. Of all the wrong-headed gossip! In the end all she could do was laugh. ‘Well, your second cousin would be wrong.’

  ‘But you are not really a warrior,’ the girl persisted.

  Dagmar glanced over and saw Mhairi standing in the shadows, watching the exchange with a smug smile on her face. Anger flowed through her veins. She gestured towards Mhairi. ‘Come here. Join in. Do not just lurk in the shadows, sending your deputies into battle. Let us speak honestly with each other.’

  Mhairi reluctantly came out of the shadows. Her face appeared tinged with green. ‘I always speak the truth, even when it pains me.’

  ‘Do you know how to defend yourself should the Northmen come calling?’

  ‘Me?’ Mhairi said, straightening. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I do. I am an excellent fighter. I just don’t feel the need to swagger about. In any case, your father will protect us. It is why Aedan married you and not me.’

  Dagmar reached down and picked up two sticks. ‘Let me see. After all, what can be the harm, since I don’t really know how to fight?’

  The woman grasped the stick awkwardly and Dagmar immediately knew that Mhairi had lied, that she had never been properly taught.

  ‘Right, you fight back. Land a blow on me.’

  Mhairi made a few half-hearted attempts. ‘This is nonsense.’

  ‘This nonsense can mean the difference between life and death. Or being captured. Or being forced against your will.’ Dagmar landed a gentle blow on Mhairi’s shoulder. ‘Come on, you are making this too easy for me.’

  Fury sprang from Mhairi’s eyes. ‘You don’t belong here. You don’t belong anywhere. You never will. You are a freak. You should go. Nobody wants you here, least of all Aedan.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘He told me that he had to marry you!’

  Dagmar lowered her shoulder and flipped Mhairi on her back. She put the wooden stick against the point of Mhairi’s neck. ‘No, I am good at what I do and I don’t need to depend on a man to do it or to get me out of trouble. And whatever the circumstances, Aedan married me and I am now the Lady of Kintra, not you.’

  Mhairi let out a bloodcurdling scream.

  ‘What is going on here?’ Father Cathan came running, his cassock flapped behind him. ‘This is an outrage! Let this poor innocent woman up at once!’

  Dagmar lifted the sword from Mhairi’s neck. An odd calmness settled over her. ‘An outrage? I am merely demonstrating what happens when unwelcome visitors come to call. Women who cannot defend themselves perish or get taken as slaves. Or would you rather give sermons to empty pews?’

  The priest stood in front of Mhairi, spreading his arms wide. ‘Our Saviour will provide protection. Strike me and you will see.’

  ‘You should ask Father Alcuin if the raiders spared him!’

  ‘The noise could be heard down in the practice yard,’ Aedan thundered as he came running. ‘What is going on?’

  Father Cathan went red with fury. ‘Blasphemy is what is happening here. This dear child has been cruelly and unjustly attacked. If I had not intervened, she would be dead. See how she lays on the ground, injured.’

  Aedan’s gaze flickered between Dagmar and where Mhairi lay groaning on the ground. Dagmar clenched her jaw. There was no way she had hurt her.

  ‘It is true, Aedan,’ Mhairi called out from where she lay. ‘Your wife attacked me. Unprovoked. You have married a mad woman. You must put her aside...for all our sakes. Immediately.’

  ‘That’s right. That’s what I saw,’ Father Cathan proclaimed. ‘She attacked poor Mhairi without cause. She is wild. For the good of everyone, you must put your wife aside.’

  Dagmar clenched her fists. ‘If I had wanted Mhairi dead or injured, she would be. I used a blunt wooden stick to demonstrate how easy it is to disarm someone and why every woman must learn the art of self-defence. Despite what Father Cathan believes, it is needed. I would have told you, but the girls are not ready. They needed to feel confident, rather than humiliated.’

  Aedan’s brow furrowed. ‘We’d best discuss this inside, Dagmar.’

  ‘I am doing what is needed.’ Dagmar stalked off.

  Mhairi gave a smirk. ‘I always knew Dagmar would revert to the savage she is.’

  Aedan struggled to keep his temper. It was quite clear what he had witnessed and that Mhairi was in the wrong. ‘Get up. You deliberately provoked my wife! You challenged her to a fight. If she had wanted to, she could have hurt you. I believe Dagmar showed remarkable restraint.’

  ‘The poor woman is injured,’ Father Cathan bleated.

  ‘I doubt it.’

  Mhairi rolled about on the ground. ‘I am going to lose the baby and it is all her fault.’

  ‘Whose baby do you carry because it certainly is not mine,’ Aedan roared.

  Mhairi glanced at Father Cathan, who went bright red again, this time in embarrassment. Aedan suddenly realised what had happened and that Mhairi’s volunteering might have had an added dimension. ‘I would rather not say.’

  Aedan fixed the priest with a hard stare. ‘It is just as well that Father Cathan is not a tonsured monk then.’

  ‘I... I have ambitions,’ the priest bleated. ‘The bishop...’

  ‘Not with my people,’ Aedan retorted. ‘No one uses and abuses my people. I suggest you consider doing the honourable thing, Father.’

  Without looking back, Aedan walked into the hall, but his footsteps echoed. The hall was empty and cold. ‘Dagmar?’

  There was no answering sound, not even a knife whistling past his ear or her boots hitting the door as she took aim at his arrogant head. He’d have deserved that. He should have trusted her. He should have listened to her reasons before acting. She’d tried to tell him about Mhairi’s designs and he’d refused to listen.

  Aedan stood still. She could not have simply left him! Not before he’d attempted to make things right.

  ‘Mor? Where are you? We need to find Dagmar.’

  There was no answering bark. He should have realised that something was wrong. Over the past few days, Mor had chosen to stay with Dagmar, rather than shadowing him, behaving precisely like Liddy’s dog had done when Brandon had been alive. Mor knew he had been an arse. He’d been too blind and wrapped up in his own self-importance to see it.

  At the shore a variety of coracles and currachs were drawn up on the shore, waiting for the tide to come in. Even his currach stood in the exposed mud. Dagmar could not have departed that way. But she was perfectly capable of marching away, abandoning him, and she’d take his heart with her if she did so.

  In the space of a few breaths, the world had become an empty and desolate place. How could he have worried about this land and these people when she had become his entire world? Without her in it, his life would cease to have any meaning.

  He rapidly retraced his steps and went up another path towards the cemetery. Of course, Mor had led her there. The dog was doing what he should have done in the first place—taking Dagmar to his hut, to the place he’d built as a refuge.

  He rounded a bend and there on a grassy knoll with a frown that made his heart sink sat Dagmar with her head bent, examining the sole of her boot.

  ‘Dagmar,’ he
called softly.

  She scrambled up. The look of despondency was instantly replaced with a scowl. ‘That priest was making trouble.’

  ‘I know. He admitted to being the father of Mhairi’s unborn child.’

  ‘He did? What is going to happen?’

  ‘I have sorted it. If he has any sense he will marry the woman.’

  ‘If she has any sense she will refuse him.’

  He went over to her and gathered her hands within his. They were ice-cold. Proof if he required it that she was upset. He could have taken her fury, but not this quiet sadness.

  She gave a half-hearted attempt to pull away, but he tightened his grip.

  ‘We need to talk,’ he said.

  ‘Talk?’ Her eyes blazed, but he could see the pain they tried to mask. ‘Or maybe you will kiss me again so that I forget to ask questions. I am not sorry about trying to protect your people, Aedan.’

  She pulled away and started off down the path with Mor following at her heels.

  ‘Dagmar! Wait!’

  Dagmar picked up her pace and ignored Aedan’s cries to stop and listen. That Mhairi had confessed about how she had tried to undermine Dagmar. Her brain kept humming—her mother was right after all—she was unsuited to marriage. She had allowed her temper to get the better of her and she might have hurt Mhairi.

  Sex with Aedan had been indescribable, but what she really missed was that feeling of belonging and comradeship they had shared on their travels and she had no idea how to get it back.

  Dagmar stumbled over a root. She fell sprawling and the sole of her boot came off. Several gold coins spilled out. She gave a loud curse. She had not fastened it properly earlier.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ Aedan asked, reaching her before she had time to replace the gold and repair the boot.

  ‘Only my pride. I was going too quickly.’ She dusted the dirt off the trousers and hoped he’d wouldn’t notice the soft gold pieces gleaming. A fight about that was now inevitable and she would not give them up. Not now, not when there was every possibility that she might have to flee.

  ‘What is that?’ He bent down and picked up a coin and her scrap of parchment.