Sent as the Viking's Bride

by Michelle Styles

  A dank musty smell pervaded the hut as it had not been used since the early summer. He immediately opened the small window and lit a fire in the hearth. Svana curled up on a straw pallet next to the dogs and went to sleep while Ragn sank down on a bench.

  ‘The smell will improve soon,’ he said. ‘The walls are solid. It will keep the rain off our heads for tonight.’

  ‘Do you think Kolbeinn will allow you to go?’ she asked, rather than commenting on the condition of the hut. ‘Or will he simply ignore the request, deciding on reflection Vargr is too powerful a man to risk alienating him?’

  Her voice lacked the sparkle that he was used to. He narrowed his gaze—her eyes were red and her skin blotchy as if she’d spent time crying. His heart lurched. He wanted to draw her into his arms and tell her that all would be well, but the lie refused to come.

  ‘You never know with Kolbeinn,’ Gunnar replied truthfully. ‘If he wishes to settle scores with Vargr, he will send me northwards. However, he might not give me enough men to accomplish the task.’

  ‘And if not?’

  ‘He will send us to Lord Ketil, but I will find a way.’

  She wrapped her arms about her waist. ‘Why? Why would you do that for me?’

  ‘Because I swore an oath to protect my land, land I have given my blood for. Vargr will continue to send men until he has what he wants. I refuse to let him win. Do I need another reason? Did I ever need another reason to do what is right?’

  She flinched like he had struck her. ‘I see. I misunderstood the situation. I would like to join you wherever this journey takes you.’

  His heart leapt. She wanted to come. He ruthlessly stamped it down. She and Svana would be better here where he’d arrange for their protection.

  ‘How well do you fight?’

  ‘I left that to others.’ She fluttered her lashes. ‘But I would have used that poker.’

  ‘If you can’t fight with a sword, what use are you?’ he ground out.

  ‘Vargr Simmison is my brother-in-law. My fight. I will play my part. I’m asking to come, but I will find a way to stow away if you attempt to leave me behind.’ The fierceness of her expression warred with the sweetness of her face. ‘Please, Gunnar. I beg you. I may be of some small use.’

  He shook his head. ‘You have little idea what you are asking.’

  ‘He has taken everything from me. I will not allow him to take everything from you, too.’ She held out her hands. ‘I’ve earned that right, Gunnar. Teach me how to defend myself.’

  He picked up a wooden stick and handed it to her rather than drawing her into his arms. Keeping her with him would ensure he’d keep her safe. ‘If you are coming with me, you need to know how to defend yourself. Luck was on your side on Jura.’

  ‘I don’t believe in luck. I believe in hard work. I will show you that I am worthy of a place on your felag.’

  Her eyes sparkled for the first time since he’d discovered her standing with the poker. The anguish in his chest eased. He’d missed that sparkle so much that it physically hurt. Sensibly he should tell her to stay and trust his sword arm, but she’d become as necessary to him as breathing.

  ‘Your training begins now.’ He handed her the stick. ‘You will be ready for whatever happens, Ragnhild. But remember, I am the leader of the felag. You obey me. You don’t try to manipulate or use me again.’

  ‘I understand. Do you think it will come down to violence?’

  Rather than answering her, he lifted his stick. ‘Every day until we know Vargr is dead, you will train with me. We start with sticks and then we move to proper swords.’

  A loud knock drowned out her reply. ‘Enter!’

  Dagmar stood in the doorway with a determined expression on her face.

  ‘My father’s wife counsels him to send you to Ketil and let him deal with it,’ Dagmar said without waiting for the usual pleasantries. ‘But Lord Ketil will try to sweep everything under the rushes. He has his own reasons for wishing to appease a man like Vargr Simmison.’

  ‘That would be a mistake,’ Ragn retorted and then dropped a curtsy. ‘Forgive me, Vargr will continue to disrespect these lands if he is not stopped. It will be the start of a feud.’

  ‘A feud is what Sif wishes to avoid,’ Dagmar said. ‘I have come to tell you this because you were in my felag, Gunnar. You were loyal to me once.’

  ‘Vargr is a bully and the only way to deal with bullies is stand up to them,’ Ragn retorted before Gunnar had a chance to speak. ‘Your father might consider Vargr a minor annoyance or irritant, but ambition consumes my brother-in-law. Soon he will have to act. It is far better if your father acts before the threat becomes too great. Others waited and lost their lives.’

  Dagmar’s eyes danced. ‘I see you married a woman unafraid to speak her mind, excellent. About time. Eylir chose well. Even if I expect it took you some time to see it.’

  Gunnar stared open-mouthed at his former warlord. He should have guessed that Dagmar would have had a hand in this mess. ‘You knew!’

  ‘I made it my business to know,’ the woman answered with a tiny smile. ‘It was far past time you were married and settled down. What is the point of having lands if you do not have heirs to inherit?’

  ‘Did you give Eylir the benefit of your wisdom as well?’

  ‘I may have said something before he left. He asked if I considered it a good idea.’ A faint smile played on Dagmar’s lips. ‘Can I help it, Gunnar, if I do still feel some responsibility for your worthless hide?’

  Gunnar shook his head at her presumption. He would have been cross if Dagmar’s actions had not helped to bring Ragn into his life. ‘What was Maurr’s mission about? Had he gone to take my lands?’

  Her robust laugh rang out. ‘My father didn’t expect you to be married. He anticipated a different outcome.’

  ‘Me losing my lands?’

  Dagmar sobered. ‘After your display of talent last Jul, who would bet against you? He wanted a fight with the King or rather his advisors, but did not want to be the one to start it.’ She waved her hand. ‘My father is very predictable. He wanted to show the King that the decrees like that one will not cause peace and what better way than to irritate one of the King’s former comrades. I told him not to do it, but my father has his own mind.’

  ‘Your father has the fight he longed for. Vargr is one of the King’s chief advisors.’ Ragn clapped her hands together. ‘Kolbeinn must give us permission to take the petition to the King.’

  ‘A woman after my own heart. Your luck continues to astonish me, Gunnar.’

  Gunnar put his arm about Ragn and drew her against his chest. ‘My wife wishes to go with me.’

  ‘I have the right,’ Ragn said with a quiet firmness, leaning her head against him.

  ‘They were the focus of the plot, that much is clear.’ Dagmar tapped her finger against her mouth. ‘Maurr has just returned. His wife died in complications of childbirth five days ago and the baby did not last much longer. He and his men might be persuaded to volunteer.’

  Gunnar clenched his fists. ‘Maurr—is that the best I can hope for?’

  ‘The man has just lost his family, Gunnar,’ Ragn said, putting a hand on his arm. ‘He has a boat and we can’t afford to be picky. If Kolbeinn is presented with a firm plan, he will be more likely to agree.’

  Dagmar gave a husky laugh. ‘Remind me not to play tafl against your wife. Ragnhild thinks far too many moves ahead.’

  ‘But Maurr! Isn’t there anyone else?’

  ‘It depends on what is more important to you—achieving security for your family or your pride.’

  Dagmar’s brows lowered. Gunnar’s heart sunk. He’d offended her.

  Ragn asked after Dagmar’s children before he explained. To Gunnar’s surprise, Dagmar seemed genuinely pleased to be asked and launched into a long explanation about t
he perils of children cutting their teeth. Their conversation continued for a little while before Dagmar left without answering his question.

  ‘Why did you do that?’ he said as Ragn closed the door.

  Ragn counted slowly before she answered. When she had her temper under control, she turned to face him.

  ‘Do you intend on huffing and making enemies of all those who would assist us? Is your pride really that important? Maurr has reasons to go across the seas. Let him escape his demons and help us.’

  ‘I will keep my lands safe, Ragn, from all who would harm them. Maurr would have taken those lands. I must consider him an enemy.’

  From all who would harm them. The words echoed in her brain. If she had never accepted Eylir’s offer, Gunnar and his men would be safe. She would never have known him, never have experienced happiness in his arms. And she knew she could not wish that. She held out her hands. ‘I endangered your lands.’

  He slowly shook his head. ‘You are not my enemy, but we live with the consequences.’

  ‘Changing the past is beyond me,’ she whispered. ‘I want to make it right as soon as possible. If Maurr’s boat is the only option, then I say we take it. If we get there before Jul ends, we can petition the King. It is the custom for the King to listen to petitions in the last week of Jul.’

  * * *

  The cold air encircled Gunnar the instant he stepped out of the door and did nothing to improve his mood. Maurr was the last man he wanted to be beholden to, but Ragn appeared determined to undermine his authority.

  As if his thoughts were able to conjure him, Maurr stepped out of the mists. Harsh new lines were etched on his face. ‘Gunnar, I heard of your trouble.’

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss. Losing your family in that fashion makes your heart sore.’

  The man started. ‘You never knew her.’

  ‘Nevertheless.’ Gunnar thumped his chest. ‘I once lost my family and the only thing which stopped me from going mad was to find the next fight.’

  ‘The whispers are you plan something suicidal.’

  ‘Word travels fast, but then I suspect I know the source of the rumours.’

  ‘Kolbeinn has a very intelligent daughter.’

  ‘She was one of the most able commanders I ever served under.’

  ‘You need to get there before Jul is out, before your adversary can make another move.’

  Gunnar stared at the man. ‘Why would you of all people help me?’

  ‘When I stayed at your hall, I saw how you adored your wife. It made me wish I had had that.’

  Gunnar pressed a hand to his temple. Maurr had been jealous of his relationship with Ragn? Gunnar had spied something that he’d been too afraid to admit. Even then, he had had feelings for Ragn.

  ‘Ragnhild is a special woman,’ he said carefully.

  ‘Less than a half-day after I left you I knew I had to return to Ljot, despite Kolbeinn’s orders to visit every one of the newly gifted lands and discover if the warriors were married.’ He slammed his fists together. ‘We had precious time together before she died. And I owe your wife for that.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘If you say no, because I am cursed, I will understand. Or otherwise, I say we men of Jura stick together and vanquish those who would harm our lands.’

  Gunnar started in surprise. Maurr considered himself cursed.

  ‘I welcome cursed men. They have little left to lose.’ He leant closer. ‘But as one cursed man to another, it is what you do after you are cursed that determines the course of your life. It took me many years to learn that.’

  Maurr gave a half-smile. ‘Your lady taught you that.’

  ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘She is a good woman, Ragnhild. I will help you for her sake.’

  * * *

  ‘Maurr will sail northwards?’ Ragn stared in disbelief at Gunnar when he returned to the hut. She had fixed the fire and their living quarters were now comfortable if a little cramped. Svana had fallen asleep in front of the fire again, after making her wish on the nisser’s porridge. ‘What did you offer him?’

  ‘It was your earlier hospitality that did it. Because of it, he had time with his wife before she died.’ A small smile touched his mouth. ‘That and it’s the first fight he can get his teeth into after his future dreams vanished.’

  ‘But what about Kolbeinn and sending the prisoners to Ketil?’ Ragn asked, turning it over in her mind. She’d expected Gunnar to return and announce that he’d tried, but Kolbeinn had refused.

  ‘Maurr offering his ship makes all the difference. Kolbeinn could not order men out on the seas at this time of year. But Ketil and Kolbeinn have wanted an excuse to move against the jaarls who hover around Harald like bees about a honeypot. Harald may be tightening his control in the north, but Ketil is determined to keep our traditional freedoms.’ He put his hands behind his head. ‘There will be an ending to it. You are not going to suffer any more.’

  Ragn swallowed hard. ‘You are going into battle. How will I not worry?’

  ‘I wanted permission and I have it.’ Gunnar’s eyes gleamed in the firelight. ‘This is not me on my own and subject to blood-money claims. This is me standing against injustice.’

  Ragn nodded, beginning to appreciate Kolbeinn’s political manoeuvrings. ‘A risky strategy.’

  ‘For Kolbeinn, no. For me, yes, but I would have gone without permission. No one threatens one of my own.’

  One of his. Her heart lightened. There might be hope for them, even if he had refused her love. ‘When do you go?’

  ‘We leave tomorrow. Maurr has promised that his boat will be ready in time. He has no wish to stay here for the Jul celebrations.’

  ‘That soon?’ Ragn asked, drawing her knees to her chest. ‘It will be dark for most of the journey and the seas stormy. Svana nearly died on the last crossing.’

  Gunnar expelled a long breath. ‘Svana stays here. Kolbeinn’s orders. There is no other way. I am sorry, Ragnhild.’

  ‘Because Maurr considers her unlucky?’ she asked around the lump in her throat.

  Gunnar shook his head. ‘Because Kolbeinn wants a hostage, a surety that I will return. We agreed that Svana is the best person in the circumstances as you threatened to stow away.’

  Ragn regarded Svana’s sleeping form. How could she abandon her sister? She leant forward to retrieve the covering Svana had kicked off. Svana’s lips were softly parted. ‘My sister has suffered enough.’

  ‘I spoke to Dagmar and to Kolbeinn’s wife. Both are willing to host Svana. She will be treated as a member of the family, rather than as a prisoner.’

  ‘They are?’ Ragn paused in her straightening of Svana’s covering. ‘How much did you tell them?’

  ‘You sound surprised. Both Sif and Dagmar are good people.’

  Ragn rocked back on her heels. ‘I have seen how others turn away from her because of her eyes and you know she has fits. Not as many as she did, but there are times when she has a faraway look in her eyes.’

  ‘They are fools and idiots—something that neither Sif nor Dagmar can be accused of. The dogs will stay with Svana as well. Neither Kolka nor Kefla is a good traveller. Why I ever let you talk me into bringing the dogs, I’ve no idea.’

  Ragn gave a half-smile. He might grumble, but the dogs were the best protection for Svana. ‘I’d like to see anyone get past those two and they do seem to be good for her. She’d be distraught if they were separated.’

  He put a heavy hand on her shoulder. ‘Then it is agreed. You go with me and leave Svana where she is safe.’

  She covered his hand with hers. She wanted to ask him to hold her tight and whisper words of desire that she might pretend were affection, but he pulled his hand out of her grasp.

  ‘I understand,’ she whispered. ‘But you have done far more than expected. You won’t reg
ret it.’

  He gave a grunt. ‘Be ready for the morning tide.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  A winter solstice hush hung over Kaupang, the principle town of Viken. Here and there Gunnar saw chunks of light in the buildings. He had to admit that Maurr was an excellent sailor and a fine captain. The winds had been kind and they had arrived during the dark days when the sun never rose. The Sun Maiden was truly in the belly of the wolf, waiting for her rescue, so the King would be in his newly built shining hall with his courtiers.

  A thick blanket of snow lay on the ground, piled against the various wooden buildings which comprised the market town, but the harbour itself remained remarkably clear of ice.

  Gunnar asked at the quayside and quickly discovered Eylir’s whereabouts. He had not decamped to one of his family’s estates, but had remained in Kaupang, apparently in the employ of another family. Trana’s father, Ragn explained in an undertone when she heard the name.

  Gunnar frowned. His friend should have little need to be a sell-sword.

  Gunnar pounded on the door, calling out for Eylir.

  ‘Gunnar Olafson, as I live and breathe!’ Eylir exclaimed, opening the door. ‘What brings you here? I thought you safely cocooned in your new hall.’

  ‘After what you sent me, do you think I’d remain on Jura?’

  Eylir took a step back into the house. ‘Didn’t you like your Jul present? Is that why you are here? To complain? May Loki take your hide.’

  Gunnar kept his face still. Eylir knew what he had done and why. But this time, it was his turn to tease. ‘I brought her with me.’

  Eylir’s face drained of colour and glanced over his shoulder. He lowered his voice. ‘You are returning her to the north? How could you, Gunnar? You of all men. Did you see the scars she bears?’

  ‘Do you presume to know what my taste in women is?’