Sent as the Viking's Bride

by Michelle Styles

  Ragn’s gaze slid away from his. ‘She can travel with us, staying with Trana when we go to court. If your journey is to be a success, you will need proof that you speak for me. I am that proof.’

  ‘You have thought a lot about this scheme.’

  ‘My mind turned it over while I waited for your return. It helped to keep me sane. It helped to keep my mind focused.’ Ragn smoothed her gown and there was a faint tilt of triumph in her look.

  Gunnar clenched his fists. The answer was far too perfect and quick. She had thought long and hard about this scheme. She had planned for this day. The enormity of her betrayal hit him in the gut. ‘We will see what Kolbeinn says.’

  Her eyes flared. ‘That is a sop. You expect him to agree with your assessment. If you want Vargr to stop, you will need my help.’

  ‘It is the best I can offer you. I won’t go against my commander.’ He struggled to hold on to his temper. ‘Why didn’t you remain in Viken? Why didn’t you find a warrior in Viken to help you?’

  She ducked her head and didn’t meet his eyes. ‘What warrior would have helped me over the chance to curry favour with Vargr?’

  ‘Or did you think once you had married that you would be able to cajole or coerce your husband into challenging your brother-in-law? Regaining your husband’s lands?’

  ‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t intend to and it is the last thing you require, but I do. And on that love, I swear, I did not want this. I did not want revenge.’

  The words were like a knife in his stomach. Love? She only spoke of love when he asked her about her schemes to regain her lands. Did she think he was that ignorant that he couldn’t see how she was trying to twist him about her little finger? He was not the sort of person women like her loved. He forced his lungs to fill with air. To think he’d been willing to give his love to her freely and all she cared about was regaining her land. His heart protested he was wrong, but he refused to listen.

  ‘You needn’t worry. I was going to do my duty even without your added sweetening. Love is the one thing I do not require from you. Ever.’

  The words burst from him.

  She winced as though he had slapped her. Before he explained, she straightened her back and her face became carved from stone. ‘I see. I won’t offer my heart again. My sister and I are naturally grateful for your protection.’

  The finality in her voice made something in his chest ache, far worse than it had done when he’d discovered his mother and sisters. He pushed it away. She might have used him, but he could give her her heart’s desire—her lands. Then they would be done. She’d be out of his life and he could return to his solitude and never have to face the consequences of giving his heart again.

  He concentrated on her betrayal. If he could hate her, then the curse he bore would have no power over her. The pain in his chest grew greater. ‘As my wife, you will always have my protection.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gunnar’s words about her falsely declaring her love to get him to back her quest for revenge rang in Ragn’s ears as the boat rocked in the waves, heading inexorably towards Colbhasa. She hadn’t said those words for that reason. She’d said she loved him because she meant it and had wanted to say it out loud just once. But he didn’t want her love and he most certainly did not return it.

  Same old Ragn, same old stupid beliefs in love conquering the hardest of hearts. Her heart protested that Gunnar still wanted to protect her, but she knew the truth—he’d never love her in return, not how she wanted to be loved.

  She forced her gaze to keep on the dark grey waves, rather than searching his face for any softening. This mess was not her fault. No one in their right mind could have guessed that Vargr would send assassins over the sea in winter. She had been convinced he considered her dead.

  Svana had been right about the brooches. She should never have sold them, but then how would they have escaped? She’d made the mistake long before Gunnar had encountered them. Their marriage was over before it had really begun—how could she stay when he despised her for wrecking the peace of Jura?

  With each slap of a wave against the boat’s hull, a small piece of her heart whispered she was wrong.

  The journey to Colbhasa had taken the better part of the next morning as the winter sea was filled with white-capped waves and a harsh rain had started to fall.

  Ragn leant over and pulled the shawl tighter about Svana. Droplets shone on her lashes and the end of her nose, but Svana managed a wan smile. ‘You are getting to be a good sailor.’

  ‘The sea isn’t as rough with Gunnar being the pilot.’

  Ragn’s heart squeezed. Svana was always brave and it was clear she hero-worshipped Gunnar. And because of her thoughtless words, she was going to ruin her sister’s life again. ‘Yes, I trust Gunnar to get us there.’

  The two prisoners lay in the bottom of the boat, shackled, while Ragn and Svana sat near the steering board with Gunnar. Gunnar had left most of his men guarding the hall in case of a repeat attack.

  The boat was serviceable for travelling on the sea roads in the Westerns Isles, but there was no way it would be equipped to make the long journey northwards.

  * * *

  When Gunnar manoeuvred the boat into the mouth of the harbour, Ragn rubbed her eyes. The sheer number of longboats had to be equal to the longboats which were stationed in the harbours around Kaupang in the winter. She had not appreciated the amount of resources King Harald expended in the west.

  ‘Where is your longboat?’ she asked. ‘Is one of these yours?’

  ‘I sold my ship when I acquired my land and retired from active campaigning.’ He pointed towards a ship with an intricate red dragon on the prow. ‘That one used to be mine. You can see where I rammed Thorsten, the leader of the Northmen, from the Black Bay’s lead ship the summer before last if you look at the bow just above the water line.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘That was a battle and a half. I swore five times I thought I’d be in Valhalla before the night fell.’

  ‘Were you victorious?’

  He gave a barking laugh. ‘I’m here next to you and the other boat lies at the bottom of the sea. The battle helped to convince Kolbeinn that I deserved land.’

  Several men ran up to help pull the boat to shore, calling out to Gunnar and preventing him from continuing the story. Ragn noticed with a frown that they did not offer any refreshment. However, Kolbeinn’s compound resembled a small city rather than a simple homestead and the rules of hospitality were different.

  ‘Who is this woman?’ one of Kolbeinn’s guards asked as she was helped ashore.

  ‘This woman is my wife, Ragnhild,’ Gunnar called. ‘I expect you to honour her as such. And don’t tell me that Maurr the Forkbeard kept that morsel of gossip to himself!’

  ‘Your wife?’ The man rubbed the back of his neck. ‘For once Maurr spoke true. I had wondered if he was telling one of his far-fetched tales when he babbled on about the mead, the wondrous hospitality and above all the kindness of your woman. But this woman does not appear to be your sort at all.’

  The entire quayside went quiet. Ragn wanted to hide her face in shame, but Gunnar put his arm about her shoulders and drew her close. ‘That is because I never had a wife before. Would any deny her suitability to my face? Her beauty?’

  Ragn stared straight ahead. She wanted to hate him on the voyage over, then he did something like that and her heart sighed. In her head she knew he was saying this because the men’s words had irked him and that it had nothing to do with his feelings towards her, but her heart refused to listen.

  The men on the quayside glanced at each other and awkwardly shuffled their feet.

  ‘I only meant to say that she appeared far too fine for the likes of you. Maurr said that she could read runes and her cooking is God-inspired.’

  ‘We thought it a joke when Maurr proclaimed it,’ another fina
lly admitted. ‘We never expected you would marry and not to a beauty such as this one either. I understand she keeps an excellent table. Should she come to her senses, I will happily vie for her hand.’

  The others echoed the remarks while Gunnar glowered. Ragn shook her head. Hamthur’s insidious whispering fell silent in her mind. Gunnar had defended her. With Gunnar’s arm about her, she felt beautiful and accomplished.

  ‘What is mine, I keep. Be aware of that and treat my wife with respect.’

  Ragn’s heart twisted. His touch was impersonal. It was about him gaining respect. It had nothing to do with feelings for her. She carefully wrapped the tattered bits of pride about her heart and kept her back straight as they walked to the large meeting hall where Kolbeinn was keeping court.

  The hall was splendid, equal to anything she had seen in Viken—rich tapestries lined the walls and Kolbeinn sat like a king on a raised dais. Everything about him screamed power and prestige, a man who owed his allegiance to the King. Would he be willing to go against Vargr, one of the King’s closet advisors, and jeopardise all this luxury?

  Gunnar led the two prisoners towards where Kolbeinn sat. As he approached, the hum of voices in the hall fell silent. A finely dressed young woman with a Celt by her side stood at Kolbeinn’s right and to his left stood an older plump woman. Kolbeinn’s blond hair was shot with silver, but he retained an air of command.

  Gunnar’s step faltered slightly as he noticed the couple, but then his expression of grim resolution returned. Ragn motioned to Svana to stay at the back of the hall with the dogs. Svana gave a tremulous nod and followed Ragn’s request.

  ‘Who is the younger couple?’ she asked in an undertone to Gunnar once she had reached his side.

  ‘Dagmar Kolbeinndottar and her husband,’ Gunnar said in a low voice. ‘I had not expected them to be here. They must have arrived early for Jul and then will return to Ile in time for the Christmas celebrations. Dagmar converted to the new religion when she married her husband. She once was my commander and a very able one as well.’

  Ragn stared at the woman. While she knew women warriors existed, most never commanded. Dagmar did not appear to be the sort of woman anyone dismissed lightly.

  ‘Will it help our cause she is here?’

  ‘Kolbeinn remains the one in charge. He will make the decision, not his daughter.’

  A stab of envy went through her when she saw the woman’s husband bend towards his wife to whisper something and how she put a hand on his forearm. The private look in public proclaimed that they were in tune with each other. For a heartbeat she wished just once Gunnar would look at her with half that much love in his eyes.

  She shook her head. Gunnar did not require her love. She’d offered it and he’d thrown it back in her face. He thought she’d used him.

  ‘Gunnar Olafson, you have arrived before you were expected and bearing gifts.’ Kolbeinn nodded towards the gagged prisoners. ‘Is something amiss?’

  Gunnar rapidly explained the situation, giving vague details about exactly how Ragn came to be his wife.

  ‘These men made an unprovoked attack on your wife?’

  ‘And my wife’s sister. Their brother-in-law lays claim to their inheritance and wishes them ill. What I want to know is did you give permission for these men to attack me and my family in your territory?’

  Kolbeinn tapped his fingers together. ‘Who do they serve?’

  ‘Vargr Simmison, one of the King’s advisors.’ Gunnar removed the ponytailed-man’s gag. ‘You may ask them if you like. They still have tongues in their foul mouths. I value my gold too much to wish to pay any blood money for these pieces of filth.’

  ‘Is what he says true? Did you go to his lands with the intention of harming his family?’

  Ponytail bowed and made an ingratiating smile. ‘I serve Vargr the Fleet-Footed who is a great friend of the King’s and sits at his right hand after his speed saved the King’s life in battle. Their wives are close. I must protest about this action which is not worthy of any who calls himself a Viken and owes his allegiance to the King. Perhaps Ragnhild Thorendottar would care to explain her actions.’

  He preened a little after saying his words. Ragn curled her hands into fists and wished she’d done away with him when he’d first arrived. It would have made things much simpler.

  She cleared her throat to begin her defence.

  ‘I would not even give Jaarl Vargr Simmison the time of day! Snivelling little coward!’ Kolbeinn thundered, turning purple before she uttered a sound. ‘Let alone give him the right to attack the hall of one of my men. His father helped himself to my lands in Viken. Vargr helped to ensure I was cheated!’

  All colour drained from Ponytail’s face. ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘Once a man behaves like that, he is ever likely to behave that way again, particularly against a widow as Ragnhild was.’ Gunnar spoke softly, but his voice carried to all parts of the hall. A murmur of agreement rippled around the hall.

  Ragn pulled Svana closer. For the first time since the pair of assassins had appeared, she allowed herself to hope Gunnar would succeed without losing his life or his lands.

  She wanted to silence the bubble of hope, but it rose in her breast. Kolbeinn would have to send men to Harald. They would be safe as Vargr would not want to anger the Jaarls of the Western Isles. The dispute would be settled amicably. She bowed her head and prayed to any god who might be listening.

  ‘What say you, Far?’ Dagmar asked in the silence.

  ‘I remember the grave insult. I fully believe him capable of attempting to usurp lands.’ Kolbeinn stroked his goatee beard. ‘You did well, Gunnar, bringing these men here. I have long wished for a day of reckoning.’

  Ponytail scuffed a foot on the ground. ‘I wasn’t there. That’s all ancient history. I was only obeying orders.’

  ‘Pity you were so diligent,’ Gunnar said. ‘Most men would have found a reason to postpone such a mission until after Jul, but you went straight away. You hungered for it.’

  ‘The King will hear of this.’ Ponytail stamped his foot. ‘I demand compensation for the manhandling of the King’s messengers.’

  ‘What message did you bring from the King?’

  Ponytail pressed his lips together. ‘This man had no respect for my person. That is all I am saying.’

  The hall erupted in a cacophony of rude laughter, oaths and mutterings. Ragn hugged her waist. Against all her expectations, they were siding with her and Gunnar. She sobered. But what would happen when Vargr sent the next assassins and the next ones?

  ‘Why did you not kill these men, Gunnar?’ Dagmar asked in a firm voice which carried to all parts of the hall. ‘The provocation was great. And you would have stopped his tongue.’

  ‘I can find a way to stop your tongue.’ Ponytail gave a leer. ‘You should allow your betters to speak, girlie.’

  The former woman warrior lifted a brow and the hall became hushed. Somewhere in the back of the hall, a sword fell to the ground with a great clatter.

  Dagmar waited for the shocked murmurs to subside before she gave a pointed cough. ‘Forgive me, Far, for my forwardness, but Gunnar Olafson used to be pledged to my service. I feel compelled to ask questions before leaping to conclusions. May I question him?’

  Kolbeinn inclined his head. ‘Answer my daughter, Gunnar. Why have you behaved in this fashion? Why have you brought these men here instead of killing them? You can afford the blood money.’

  Gunnar made a bow. ‘Because such men are more useful alive than dead. In my lady’s service, I learned it is better I confront the heart of the snake rather than one of its fangs.’

  ‘Vargr the Fleet-Footed has grown more powerful in recent months. That much is true. I have heard rumours of this from others,’ Dagmar said, drawing her brows together. ‘He may feel that will save him from any dispute, particularly from on
e of Harald’s far-flung territories.’

  ‘Are you saying we should ignore the insult, my lady, because the man giving the insult is too powerful?’ Gunnar asked. ‘I can’t and won’t do that.’

  ‘He has been no friend to my father over the years. We should tread carefully and make sure the damage can be contained.’

  ‘Vargr sent men into Lord Ketil’s and your father’s territory without asking permission. That gives us the right to strike back,’ Gunnar said, slamming his fists together. ‘He should have sought permission from the overlord of these islands. From your reaction, Kolbeinn, I take it that he disrespected you in the past and you overlooked it. Who is to say what else he will do in the future? How else will he disrespect you and Lord Ketil?’

  Kolbeinn made a grunt, but Ragn noticed a gleam in his eye. He approved more of Gunnar’s words than his daughter’s cautious ones. She whispered thanks to the gods.

  The woman nodded. ‘There are ways to do things. Acting like thieves in the night goes against our law. Gunnar has done the right thing, Far, bringing these men in front of you rather than murdering them. He owes no compensation to them.’

  The entire hall murmured its approval of her words.

  ‘What should I do with them?’ Kolbeinn thundered.

  ‘Think of them as a Jul present.’ Gunnar bowed. ‘From a loyal member of your felag. I wish to renew my oath to you this evening and then ask leave to travel northwards and right the insult done to you and this felag.’

  The entire hall gave a cheer as Kolbeinn beamed.

  ‘We will talk after you make your oath, Gunnar Olafson,’ Kolbeinn said. ‘Meanwhile, leave these men with me. Disrespect of my authority will certainly not be tolerated.’

  * * *

  ‘That went better than expected,’ Gunnar said as he led the way to the small hut he maintained on Colbhasa. His neck and shoulders were lighter. It was easier to concentrate on the things which needed to be accomplished to get Ragn’s lands back rather than to keep finding reasons to hate her. He wanted to hate her. He knew he should hate her for what she’d done, but he couldn’t, he cared about her too much.