Sent as the Viking's Bride

by Michelle Styles

  ‘It is good that you will be going north in the spring. You have worked too hard on this hall to risk losing it for the want of a little thing like a bride.’

  His eyes flickered to the stone man. ‘The bride I choose, not one which is foisted on me by well-intentioned friends.’

  ‘Did I say differently?’ She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the tightening of the knots in her stomach. ‘When you go north, you will leave this place empty. You need someone you trust to look after it. A caretaker to ensure it remains in good order.’

  ‘Eylir remains in the north.’

  ‘I meant me. I know how to run an estate. My husband used to leave me in charge when he went...when he went away.’ Ragn watched the glowing embers.

  ‘When your husband was off warring.’

  ‘That and other things. He served the King and was required at court.’

  ‘At court without you?’

  ‘Someone had to ensure the smooth running of the estate.’ She forced a placating smile. She needed to keep this conversation away from her past for both their sakes. ‘If you give my sister and me a place to stay, we will have every reason to be loyal.’

  ‘When I return, will I find my hall standing? The scarring on your limbs makes me believe your last hall burned to the ground.’

  Ragn kept her chin up. ‘We were the only ones to escape the inferno. My servants...the loyal ones...perished.’

  ‘You carried her, shielded her.’

  She fingered the indentations on her neck. The burns no longer hurt as they had done when they’d sheltered in that barn, but they still sometimes pained her. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘Simple enough.’ He moved closer and his breath brushed her cheek. ‘Your hair is short while Svana’s remains long. You have scars. She doesn’t. Her right foot twists inward. She moves quickly enough so I’m guessing she was born with it, but outrunning flames would be beyond her.’

  Ragn bowed her head. ‘The fire took hold quickly. A few more breaths and we would have died.’

  He nodded. ‘How far did you carry her?’

  ‘A tale for another day. I ensured she survived. That is all you need to know.’

  ‘Quarrels with your husband? You must tell me the truth if you wish to stay here. Trust me.’

  Ragn drew a shuddering breath. Where to begin and what to leave out. ‘My late husband quarrelled with his brother over his inheritance. My brother-in-law became determined to win at all costs. When his petition to the assembly was refused, he had my husband murdered and sought to take the lands. When I defied him and refused to leave the hall which had been my childhood home, he had it burned, leaving us for dead.’

  ‘Does he still consider you dead?’ Gunnar asked quietly.

  That question had circled around her brain for days. ‘I must believe so. No one searched for us after the first night. Once I’d healed enough to walk, we made our way to Kaupang. Trana was the first person I encountered there and she offered a way out. It was better for everyone that we go.’

  He tapped his fingers together. ‘Don’t you care about regaining your lands?’

  ‘I learned that day that the people you love are more important than any land. He is welcome to all of it—the part that was his father’s and the greater part which belonged to my family.’ She leant towards him. ‘I can keep this hall safe, better than safe. I can make this hall a place your bride will run towards instead of running from. Give me a chance to prove it.’

  His eyes narrowed and for a horrible heartbeat she worried she’d overstepped. ‘Why here? What is special about this hall?’

  ‘I trust my sister’s instincts much as you trust your dogs’. She is convinced she will see a nisser. It will give her a chance to regain her strength and put meat on her bones.’

  He nodded. ‘Fair enough.’

  The breath whooshed out of her. He had not questioned her more about Svana and why she’d been incapable of running beyond her foot. Maybe he would never need know about the affliction she’d caused Svana. Maybe he would not need to know about Vargr and the power he now enjoyed as one of the King’s closest advisors. All those things happened a world away. It was the present which was important, not the past.

  ‘Then we may stay? Beyond tomorrow morning?’

  ‘I expect you to work hard.’

  ‘Hard work was never my problem.’

  His eyes skittered to where the stone man perched. It appeared as if the man was grinning broadly. The firelight flickered and the expression disappeared.

  ‘You may stay until I bring my chosen bride home. I won’t have her displaced.’

  She held out her hand. ‘Done.’

  ‘Done.’ His fingers curled about hers, strong and safe. The warm liquefying of her insides that she’d had when she returned the amulet increased. Her breath left her with a gasp. She stumbled forward. His mouth loomed large over hers and his arms came about her.

  She rapidly pushed against him before her bones completely melted into him, before she begged him to kiss her and make her feel desirable. Before she made a fool of herself. ‘We agreed—marriage between us will not happen.’

  Her voice was far too breathless for her liking.

  His arms fell to his side and the cool air rushed between them. ‘Is there harm in sharing a kiss? I have shared many pleasurable kisses and remain unmarried.’

  Ragn schooled her features. Hamthur’s taunts about her passion-killing abilities reverberated in her brain. ‘I know where such things can lead, particularly in the night. I refuse to jeopardise our agreement by adding coupling into it.’

  ‘Is it Eylir? Are you waiting for him?’ He stroked his chin. ‘Aye, I can understand that. Commendable even, but Eylir is a flighty man, constantly falling in and out of love.’

  The lie trembled on her lips. Eylir was pleasant looking, but he was not the sort of man who made her blood run hot.

  ‘Eylir?’ She rapidly shook her head. ‘No, it is not him.’

  His eyes were hooded. ‘Then what is it? A kiss to seal our bargain will not lead anywhere...unless you want it to.’

  Ragn tightened her shawl about her shoulders and kept her chin up. ‘I refuse to become a warm body in the night where there is no marriage in the offing. I refuse to play some sort of seduction game with you where I can only lose.’

  ‘And marriage is the only situation in which you will consider a man in your bed?’ His voice purred, making her knees go weak. ‘You are resolved to make a stand?’

  Ragn hastily backed up and her cheeks became hot. In her mind she repeated the reasons why starting anything with this man would be a mistake. ‘I have my principles to keep me warm.’

  He made a bow. ‘I will abide by your principles...until you change your mind.’

  ‘Do women often change their mind about inhabiting your bed?’

  ‘I’ve never notice a shortage in past.’ He gave a husky laugh. ‘Eylir claimed bed-sport is the only use I have for women.’

  Ragn lifted her chin and met his dancing eyes, eyes she happily drowned in. ‘I look forward to demonstrating to you that women have a use beyond the bedchamber.’

  Gunnar raised her hand to his lips. The hot pulse which travelled up her arm gave a lie to her words of not being attracted to him. ‘I always enjoy discovering new ideas.’

  Chapter Four

  The sound of the cockerel’s crow dragged Ragn from her fitful dreams. She rapidly dressed, placing the couvrechief over her shorn hair. She froze. Last night’s offer to allow them to stay instead of removing them to Ile could not be some terrible dream. She rushed to the kitchen, saw the little man sitting on the mantel and breathed again.

  When she returned to the bedchamber, Svana had snuggled into the warm place Ragn had vacated, her face smooth instead of scrunched up. Best of all, her limbs remained relaxed, not the restl
ess twitching Ragn had witnessed every morning since the fire.

  ‘A good night’s sleep can cure much,’ she whispered. ‘Mor-Mor was right.’

  Ragn blinked to clear the prickling tears. Perhaps she should have said something to Gunnar last night about the blow Svana had taken when he asked about why she’d carried Svana. She would do after she had demonstrated how much use they both could be.

  ‘Ragn?’ There was no mistaking the panicked note in Svana’s voice. ‘Are you there? I dreamt you disappeared. Have you?’

  ‘Time to get up, Sleepy Bones.’ She made her voice bright to keep from worrying Svana. ‘Much to do today.’

  ‘You mean travel again. No, thanks.’ Svana burrowed deeper in the furs. Ragn smoothed Svana’s hair from her forehead. After one night’s rest, her eyes seemed straighter and her skin less like parchment. Ragn struggled to remember when Svana had last looked this well.

  Ragn put her hand on Svana’s shoulder. ‘We stay here if we work hard. Gunnar Olafson agreed to my proposition.’

  ‘When? What proposition?’

  ‘We remain here as housekeepers until Gunnar returns with his bride from the north. No uncertain future in Ile. You can heal here.’

  Svana scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Gunnar is going to marry you after all? I knew once he had a proper look at you, he’d see how truly lovely you are with your black hair like a raven’s wing and the way your eyes shine, not to mention your excellent figure, sleek and elegant. Not at all lumpy like...like...’

  ‘Stop spinning idle tales,’ Ragn said before Svana mentioned Hamthur’s final mistress, the one whose body had been found next to his. ‘My hair burnt to very nearly my scalp. My one beauty, as Mor-Mor used to say, is gone. It is prickly and more than a bit itchy, not at all like it was.’

  ‘You are beautiful to me. You always have been.’ Svana caught Ragn’s fingers. ‘You saved my life. You carried me out of the hall and then for ages and ages with the dogs howling all around.’

  ‘A life which will not be worth living if we don’t prove how industrious we are.’

  ‘But you remain beautiful. Your skin glows this morning. Something else happened.’

  Ragn quickly shook her head. Last night’s near-kiss with Gunnar was because of the time of night rather than because of any physical attraction he felt for her. Hamthur had been like that after she’d lost the baby, using her when he couldn’t find one of his mistresses. She’d kept very still and thought about the housekeeping. It had been easier than resisting, because then Hamthur used his fists.

  ‘He liked my stew, something you only picked at.’

  Svana scrunched up her face. ‘If not as his bride, what are you?’

  ‘The potential caretaker of his estate.’ Ragn held out Svana’s over-gown for her to slip into. ‘I will stay here and run his house until he has time to fetch a bride back from the north next spring. He wants to choose his own. But first he needs to know I can look after this estate and run it well.’

  ‘No bride could be better than you. You’ll see. He will return empty-handed, take you into his arms and proclaim his love.’ Svana’s eyes shone. ‘I can see it happening. Then there will be a large wedding. I’ll cry and blow my nose repeatedly because you look like the Sun Maiden in your gold crown and shimmering new dress.’

  A vision of her standing next to Gunnar with their hands entwined, saying their vows like they meant them, rose in Ragn’s mind. She frowned at the way her heart beat faster. Obviously, she had slept worse than she considered as she wanted to believe in impossibilities. She made a little shooing motion with her hands. ‘You’ve romance on the brain. Worse than Trana.’

  Rather than Svana smiling back at her, her face took on a stubborn cast. ‘I will have to do it tonight, then, saying my wish over the porridge. The nisser will see to it that Gunnar Olafson behaves as he was supposed to. I’ve faith...even if someone else has given up.’

  Ragn silently cursed as she fastened the brooches which held Svana’s apron up. Her campaign to get Svana to stop believing in the impossible thus far was a dismal failure. ‘Gunnar and I are not getting married. Ever. We will be leaving once he has obtained the bride he wants. Do not mention the possibility again unless you want to leave on the next boat to Ile. He remains determined to choose his bride without any help from Eylir or you or even me.’

  Svana’s face crumpled. ‘Did I do it wrong again?’ She lifted her chin. ‘I will be brave. Today. You will see. I won’t flinch at all if the dogs come into the kitchen.’

  ‘You already have been very brave.’ Ragn drew the girl into the circle of her embrace and pressed her lips against her hair. It bothered her that Svana blamed herself. She wished she could have her confident little sister back, rather than the girl who seemed to blame herself for all the bad things which had happened. ‘You’ve nothing to do with his decision about not making good on his friend’s promise. But you need to help me keep my promise while he searches for the right bride.’

  ‘Maybe he does want to marry you and just doesn’t know it. Men can be funny that way. Trana told me! He brought the furs in for you.’

  ‘He brought the furs in because he thought we might be cold and end up sickening.’ Ragn was aware the heat on her cheeks increased and was glad of the murky light. And if Svana knew Gunnar had tried to kiss her to seal the bargain, there would be no stopping her vivid imagination.

  ‘Once I ask the nisser, it will happen. Like that.’ Svana snapped her fingers. ‘I want to stay here. I feel safe here.’

  ‘What did I tell you about pretend games? In any case, nissers are trickier than Loki, especially at Jul time,’ Ragn said a bit more sharply than she intended, but the last thing she required was Svana starting clumsy matchmaking attempts.

  ‘Where will we go when his actual bride arrives?’ Svana used her very soft voice.

  ‘Somewhere we can live without fear of Vargr following. Iceland is a long way across the sea. Vargr hates travelling over the water. The witch woman told him to be wary of sea voyages.’

  Svana bit her lip. ‘Not another sea voyage. I hate the way the boat rocks. I can never get dry. Please, Ragn, for my sake. Closer.’

  Ragn shook her head. Svana was incorrigible once a notion took hold. Like herself as a child. Ragn firmed her mouth. Svana was not going to be like her, she was going to be better. ‘We will worry about that when it happens. Right now, I can smell porridge. I’ll race you to the kitchen.’

  ‘Sometimes stories become real,’ Svana whispered. ‘I’ll not stop believing, just because you tell me to. Not ever.’

  * * *

  ‘You’re up,’ Gunnar said, coming into the kitchen just after Ragn took the porridge off the fire.

  His rough tunic moulded to his body, revealing the breadth of his shoulders. Her pulse leapt at the memory of how those arms had held her. Ragn inwardly sighed. She had half-hoped her reaction to him had been because of exhaustion. But at least he’d agreed to respect her principles. He would not try to steal a kiss again.

  ‘Good timing.’ She turned back to the fire and gave the porridge a vigorous stir. Some of the mixture slopped over and fell with a sizzle on to the fire. ‘The porridge with cloudberries is ready.’

  ‘Normally I don’t bother with porridge as it is too much trouble to make and then eat when I have a thousand other jobs to be getting on with. But the addition of cloudberries makes all the difference.’ His voice flowed over her like warm honey.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Svana go rigid. Then the dogs came trotting in. One sniffed her skirt before going to sit by Gunnar with a hopeful expression. Svana ran over to Ragn and hid her face in Ragn’s skirt.

  ‘Svana, what is this? We cannot have this every meal. Gunnar’s dogs mean you no harm,’ Ragn said before disaster struck.

  ‘Child, do you know where the woodpile is?’ Gunnar asked,
cutting across her words.

  Svana peeped out from Ragn’s skirt. ‘I think so.’

  ‘That fire needs some more sticks.’

  ‘I can get them,’ Ragn said, putting a restraining hand on Svana’s shoulder. ‘The dogs frighten Svana. You witnessed it last night. She has to walk past them to get to the door.’

  ‘The dogs will stay here with me. Quick about it now, Svana.’ He put his hand to the side of his mouth and said in a loud whisper, ‘My mother claimed nissers were fond of woodpiles. It may be that he has slept in today.’

  A broad smile crossed Svana’s face and her eyes shone. ‘A woodpile is a good sort of place to hide.’

  She ran past the dogs without a second glance. Gunnar resumed eating his porridge, his expression smug.

  Ragn put a hand on her hip. ‘What are you playing at?’

  ‘Watch and learn. See what happens when your sister returns.’ He nodded towards the stone man. ‘I take it she hasn’t spied that. I plan to use it in the next stage.’

  ‘You should have asked me if your scheme was appropriate. I am the person responsible for my sister.’

  He pushed the empty bowl away. ‘Last night you asked me to trust you, to leave my hall in your hands.’

  ‘It will be. Svana is a good girl. Very helpful. She is a bit nervous about dogs, that is all. She will settle.’

  ‘I will solve this problem this morning.’ He took another bite of the porridge. ‘Watch. Learn something new.’

  ‘I know my sister.’ Ragn whispered prayers to any god she thought of, but all she thought about was the looming disaster.

  * * *

  Svana rushed in as Gunnar was scraping the last of the porridge from his bowl. Barely giving the dogs a glance, she dropped a pile of sticks in front of the fire. ‘No nisser in the woodpile. But he could sleep there.’

  ‘Look up,’ Gunnar said as a surge of triumph went through him. Svana was indeed like his sisters.