Sold to the Viking Warrior

by Michelle Styles

  Liddy tightened her grip on Coll’s collar. The large Northman with strange pointed teeth no longer frightened her. ‘Good to know.’

  Sigurd was the first to emerge. He wore his tunic and carried his sword. Someone threw him a shield which he caught easily. In the sunlight, his hair gleamed gold and he moved with a great purpose, like one of the angels in church come to life. Her breath caught. It was hard to believe that he had actually kissed her.

  ‘I was simply the nearest woman and he’s a Northman with different beliefs,’ she whispered to Coll. ‘That was the reason.’

  Coll opened one eye and gave a low growl of disapproval.

  * * *

  Sigurd banged the sword against the shield. All his muscles had tensed. It was good to be out in the open, good to be doing something, rather than skulking in the shadows. ‘Thorbin. I am waiting. We are all waiting. Are you a warrior or a coward?’

  Thorbin came out of the hall, dressed in a finely wrought tunic and tight-fitting trousers. In his right hand he carried a gleaming sword and in his left a highly polished shield.

  ‘Is this how you dress for battle?’ Sigurd roared, not bothering to control his anger at the contempt Thorbin showed him. ‘You will rip your trousers and show your bare arse to the world before you take five steps.’

  ‘Maybe that is all I will need.’

  ‘You will need more than that, Thorbin, as you well know.’

  ‘I would have a deputy fight for me. Do you wish to nominate someone as well?’ Thorbin gave an ice-cold smile. ‘A courtesy as we share a father. Blood will out, even if one has the blood of a whore.’

  Sigurd glared at him. Trust Thorbin to bring up their heritage. Thorbin had been the legitimate son, the one with all the advantages. Thorbin’s mother had made sure of that. ‘Under the terms our mutual overlord has set, it is not permissible for either of us to have a deputy.’

  ‘King Harald...’

  ‘Ketil Flatnose has decreed no deputies in fights of this nature.’ He dug into the pouch and withdrew a rune stick. ‘We thought you might attempt this.’

  Thorbin took the stick and read it with a curled lip. He tossed it away.

  ‘I had no wish to kill my brother, but you will keep returning.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Sigurd retorted. ‘I have not considered you my brother for years.’

  ‘I have no idea why the fates spared you, Sigurd,’ Thorbin sneered. ‘But it will be my pleasure to cut your life thread and then take the woman you desire. Like old times, Sigurd the Tender Hearted.’

  Sigurd damped down the rage. He had used Liddy to get in here and owed her something for that. That was all. So why did it bother him that Thorbin could get under his skin in this way? He barely knew the woman. Women were not part of his existence. He used them when necessary, but mainly he focused on his vow and regaining his honour. His belief in love had died the day of his mother’s death. And yet, his lips still tasted of Liddy’s sweetness.

  ‘Your pathetic attempt to unsettle me does you no credit, Thorbin. I only met the woman yesterday. A means to an end.’

  ‘Then you know nothing of her past or her family. Why do you seek to protect her?’

  ‘I have my reasons.’

  ‘We could end this now. There are opportunities for men like you if you pledge your loyalty to me.’

  Sigurd struggled to contain his temper. He would barely last a day before he encountered a knife in his back. ‘I will pass. Shall we begin?’

  ‘Your funeral.’

  ‘Your meeting with destiny.’

  Sigurd lifted his sword and drove forward. As he expected, Thorbin easily blocked it with his shield and tried to rain a blow of his own. Sigurd lifted his shield with plenty of time to spare.

  ‘Getting old?’ he asked, mocking his half-brother.

  Thorbin shook his head and made a furious stab forward. This time the sword was harder to block.

  Sigurd concentrated and began to fight in earnest, matching blow for blow and drawing on all the skills he’d learnt during his time as a sell-sword.

  * * *

  The crowd roared with encouragement every time Thorbin landed a blow and catcalled Sigurd. Liddy’s stomach twisted. Even if Sigurd won, would he really be able to command these men?

  However, very quickly the crowd became silent as it was obvious Sigurd was the better fighter and Thorbin was quickly tiring. Thorbin made one last attempt and forced Sigurd to his knees.

  A scream echoed round and round the crowd. Liddy realised with a start that it was her voice.

  She hid her eyes, unable to watch. Coll nudged her with his cold nose and she peeked through her fingers.

  Somehow Sigurd had managed to twist and Thorbin’s thrust forward missed. Sigurd half-pivoted and crashed his shield down on Thorbin’s outstretched arm.

  The sword dropped to the dirt as Sigurd brought his sword down onto Thorbin’s neck. Liddy risked a breath. Sigurd was going to win. He was going to live. She quickly amended it to her father and brother were going to be freed. Whether a Northman lived or died meant nothing to her.

  She fingered her lips. She could almost feel the imprint of his mouth. He’d kissed her voluntarily. It was almost enough to make her believe Brandon’s mistress had lied when she said that no man would voluntarily touch her.

  She pushed the thought away. Passionate encounters belonged to women who were made differently than she was. After today, she would never encounter him again. All she wanted was for him to keep his promise and free her family. Then maybe people would say her birthmark brought luck rather than shame.

  * * *

  Sigurd became aware of distant noises as the fog of battle cleared. He had done it. Thorbin was at his mercy. But he also knew that it had been Liddy’s cry that had given him the extra surge of strength he needed.

  He had fought better because Liddy believed in him. And that scared him more. Since his mother’s death, he’d been alone, caring for no one but himself and the men he fought with. Finer feelings and tenderness had no place in his life. He barely knew her and already she was under his skin. She’d be returning back to her lands with her father. Liddy was not going to be part of his life. And the fact made him annoyed.

  ‘You cut my ankle,’ Thorbin whined, bringing him back to the reality. ‘Unsporting.’

  ‘Do you surrender?’

  Thorbin made a noise.

  Sigurd kept the point of his sword touching his half-brother’s neck. For many years he had anticipated the pleasure he’d have when he killed this man, but now that it came to it, he found the desire vanished. Something deep within him revolted at the thought of killing his brother, even though he knew Thorbin would not have had the slightest hesitation.

  ‘Louder, so all can hear. I am wise to your tricks.’

  ‘I surrender.’ His face showed real fear. ‘I can’t rise, Brother.’

  ‘Louder!’

  ‘You have won, Sigurd!’ Thorbin screamed. ‘You have defeated me!’

  The silence was deafening. Sigurd knew the majority of the crowd expected him to drive the sword home. He was well within his rights.

  ‘Let Ketil decide what to do with you!’ He tossed the sword aside as he motioned to Hring who stood next to Liddy. The warrior had obeyed him in his fashion.

  The colour had rapidly returned to her face. He hated that something twisted in his gut, a reminder to keep people at a distance. Allowing them to become too close risked losing everything that he’d worked for. He’d seen it before.

  After he dealt with Thorbin, they would say their goodbyes. It was how it had to be. He kept no one close. Beyla had taught him that lesson. Women were self-interested and their protestations of love meant nothing in the clear light of day.

  The big man came forward, withdrawin
g the chains from the pouch he carried. Sigurd clamped the irons on to Thorbin’s wrists and then shackled his ankles.

  ‘You had best hope Ketil is in a forgiving mood.’

  Thorbin paled. ‘A misunderstanding. I can explain everything. You know what he will do to me. How I will suffer. I want a quick death, Brother.’

  ‘You should have considered that before you cheated Ketil Flatnose, before you sent his representative back in a barrel.’

  Thorbin grasped his ankle. ‘Blood flows from me! I’ll never walk again. I might die on the voyage. End my life now. Show me some mercy.’

  ‘You might die of your wounds, but I doubt it.’ Sigurd shook his head. ‘Did you show my mother mercy? Did you show anyone mercy? You will suffer, Thorbin, as your victims suffered and no one will care.’

  ‘I have a child.’ Thorbin’s face showed real fear. ‘The child is Beyla’s, Sigurd. Just over seven years old. For pity’s sake.’

  Sigurd paused. Beyla had a child with Thorbin? ‘Does Beyla live? Is she still your wife?’

  ‘She does.’ Thorbin shook his head. ‘She screamed your name when she gave birth. I’ve brought up the child as mine. They are on their way here. Please, Sigurd, on what we once shared—give me an easy death. You can claim her as your own then.’

  Sigurd’s gut tightened. Beyla had screamed his name as she gave birth. It signified nothing now. That boy belonged to Thorbin. He would share Thorbin’s disgrace and dishonour. ‘What was between us once was finished long ago. The boy is yours. You sealed his fate.’

  ‘Your mother!’ Thorbin’s voice cracked with desperation. ‘I was the one. I was the one who took her from behind. The old woman hadn’t given her enough potion. She knew what was happening to her. Did you know that?’

  Sigurd concentrated on retaining his last vestiges of control. ‘I know that now.’

  Thorbin jerked his head towards where Liddy stood. ‘I swear I will come back and do the same to that one. I bet she’d like it.’

  A red mist descended over Sigurd. Thorbin had been the one to rape his mother, making her scream like a demented creature, screams which haunted his dreams for years. And he threatened to do the same to Liddy. His promise to Ketil be damned. He reached for his sword.

  ‘Go to the gods,’ he said. ‘Make your peace with them.’

  Chapter Four

  Liddy gasped in horror as Sigurd brought down his sword, ending Thorbin’s life and his rule. When he had called for Thorbin to be chained, she thought Sigurd might be different, but then he killed Thorbin in cold blood. A cacophony of cheers intermingled with boos and catcalls broke out.

  She struggled to breathe easily. Thorbin could no longer hurt her or her family. But who was the new Northern jaarl?

  ‘It would appear our mutual friend has trouble following orders despite his oath to Ketil,’ Hring remarked.

  Liddy stared at Hring. ‘You knew Sigurd planned on doing something like this.’

  ‘I suspected as much. Ketil Flatnose took me into his confidence. He wanted to mete out his vengeance on Thorbin himself. He dislikes being thwarted. A death in battle is fair enough, but this went beyond his orders. Sigurd will have to face the consequences.’

  Sigurd raised his bloodied sword to the sky.

  ‘I, Sigurd Sigmundson, defeated Thorbin Sigmundson in lawful combat,’ he roared. ‘Will any challenge me for the right to lead? I will take on all comers! Speak now or swear allegiance!’

  The crowd of warriors began to chant his name. Softly at first, but louder and louder until everywhere rang with it. He turned round and round, accepting the acclamation.

  ‘He’s done it, Coll. He’s really done it.’ Liddy dug her hand into Coll’s fur. ‘A new start for the island. He will be a different jaarl. He will uphold the law. I know this in my heart.’

  Her eyes searched Sigurd’s face for any sign of injury, but beyond the grazing on one cheek and bruising on his jaw, he appeared fine. Her throat closed. Was it bad that she had received more tenderness from him than she had ever received from her late husband? But would Sigurd have been so quick to offer tenderness if he knew what she’d been responsible for? asked a little voice in the back of her brain. Causing the death of two innocents by her own arrogance? Liddy tried to silence it.

  Coll slipped from Liddy’s grasp and bounded towards where Sigurd stood in the centre of the other Northmen. To Liddy’s horror, the dog jumped up and put his paws on Sigurd’s shoulders, giving his face a wash.

  ‘Bad dog!’ Liddy cried and pulled him off. She stopped and was aware everyone was looking at her. ‘I...I mean...he...wanted to make sure you were unhurt.’

  Sigurd gave a heart-stopping smile. ‘It is good to know your dog cares about me. Thorbin landed a few blows and I will be sore in the morning, but I’ve survived. This land is mine.’

  He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her against him. Liddy stood for an instant, revelling in his nearness and the fact that he was alive. Then she realised where they were and that people were staring. Belatedly she covered her telltale mark.

  ‘It’s the Lord of Kintra’s widow! I spotted her birthmark!’ a voice shouted. ‘Bet Aedan mac Connall did not know of this!’

  Liddy went rigid. Should this get back to him, the last thing she needed was another lecture from her brother-in-law about how she needed to retire to a convent in Ireland. Rather than seeing her actions as the only way to rescue her family, Aedan would consider this as another insult to his sainted brother’s memory. He’d chosen to see Brandon as the bright and shining warrior who vanquished his foes, the boat-maker whose boats did not capsize in rough water and the devoted family man who had plenty of time for his children, instead of seeing him as he was. Far too late to worry about Aedan’s reaction now.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Sigurd’s voice rumbled in her ear.

  ‘Coll wants more dried meat and has worked out that you are the man to give it to him. That’s all.’ Her voice sounded far too breathless for her liking.

  Sigurd reached down and stroked Coll’s ears and seemed oblivious to the shouts for him to give her a kiss. ‘I will arrange for some.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Liddy pressed her hands together. Sigurd might say that he was not injured, but he moved his left arm as if it pained him. She knew how perilously close he’d come to losing. ‘Thank you for everything. You must see to your injuries. Ignoring them can lead to complications. Having just won your jaarlship, you’d hardly want to lose it swiftly.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘I’ve looked after myself for a long time, but thank you for the advice.’

  Liddy’s heart sank. The finality in his voice rang out. She had served her purpose and their alliance had ended.

  ‘When will I see my father and brother?’ she asked, once again trying to hide her birthmark. ‘When will you keep your end of the bargain?’

  ‘The prisoners will be released unconditionally. If they are on Islay, they will go free.’ All the warmth had leached out of his voice. ‘They will be down by the harbour. You can wait for your father and brother there if you wish.’

  ‘About earlier...’ she began, twisting her hand about her belt. She should go, but once she did the strange connection she felt with this man would vanish for ever. ‘I am not usually like that—kissing men I hardly know...even for luck.’ Her voice faltered as his brow darkened. ‘I’m explaining this badly. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for releasing them in case we never encounter each other again.’

  ‘Go wait for your father and brother. If the fates allow, they will be alive.’

  * * *

  ‘Is that what you were sent to do?’ Gorm asked Sigurd after he swore his oath. ‘Kill Thorbin? I understood Ketil wanted him alive.’

  Sigurd pursed his lips. It was intriguing that Ketil’s wishes should be
the first thing Gorm mentioned. ‘If at all possible is how the orders went.’

  Sigurd concentrated on the ground. He refused to think about the ice-cold rage which had filled him when Thorbin spoke of raping Liddy the same way he had raped Sigurd’s mother. He had guessed years ago about Thorbin’s involvement in the night. His mother’s screams had haunted him for years. He had known then his father’s gods were false and his mother’s god had forsaken her. He had controlled his anger, but it had spilled over when Thorbin mentioned Liddy. He might not have been able to save his mother, but he could save Liddy.

  ‘Ketil...’

  ‘Ketil is pragmatic. I’ve no doubt you will inform him of your recollection of events in due course.’

  ‘Yes, my liege. I have always been Ketil’s man.’ Gorm thumped his chest. ‘He had sent word to be prepared. It is why I allowed you into the fort. Spotted you straight off. Be sure to tell Ketil that.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Sigurd kept his face carefully blank. Gorm was playing a dangerous game, but it made sense that Ketil had a spy. Both here and in his own felag. Hring also would be reporting the events to Ketil. The key to remaining jaarl was finding the missing tribute. After that he could put other parts of his plan into action, like obtaining a wife whose family would help him advance still further. The slave girl’s son would rise. ‘And the gold Thorbin kept from Ketil? Don’t even think about lying, Gorm. Your ears go red. They did just now when you said you helped me to get into the fort. I know who was responsible for that.’

  Gorm retreated backwards. ‘I was not a member of his inner circle. He said repeatedly that we would be rewarded if we followed him, but we haven’t seen a single gold piece. I heard a whisper that he has used it to entice Ivar the Boneless as a counterweight to Ketil. I have no love for that particular son of a sea serpent after he murdered my brother and cousin.’