Celtic Mann: A Historical Viking Scottish Romance (Heart of the Battle Series Book 3)

by Lexy Timms

  Luke was the prime candidate for betrothal, but what if Erik came back? What if things worked out the way they should and she ended up with the man that stole her heart and haunted her dreams?

  Then what? He would arrive to find her married to Luke? Erik would kill the man and most likely have at her for settling, but what other choice did she have? She wasn't getting any younger and having a house full of children was the only hope for surviving her later years in life. She would have to wait. Maybe a year. She would not just agree easily and readily. She needed time to convince herself Erik would never return.

  Luke set a plate in front of her and one in front of her father, the steam from the egg rising up and causing her stomach to growl. He chuckled and walked back to the kitchen, bringing back his own plate and the small amount of cheese they had left.

  Linzi prayed over the food and picked up her fork, her hunger almost overwhelming.

  "Wait. Try this." Luke took the cheese and broke off a small bit, sprinkling it over her egg. She glanced toward him, trying to get a read on what he was up to.

  "Hand me the cheese. I'll have that as well. Linzi's mother always put cheese on my eggs for special occasions." Her father smiled.

  Linzi could wait no longer to eat. She was starving and the smell too delicious to hold off any longer. She leaned over and tried the new dish.

  Linzi had to stifle a moan, the richness of the egg mixing beautifully with the tart cheese.

  Luke watched her with a proud smile on his face.

  "Tell us of the war,” her father asked between bites. “Tell me what you saw."

  She glanced at Luke, trying to discern if he needed saving. Her father was direct and at times too forward with his words.

  Luke glanced up from his plate, a solemn look on his handsome face. "The battle with the Vikings on the day Kenton lost his life was horrific. Men falling on both sides of the line. I can't tell you how many..." He paused and looked toward Linzi. “Apologies. I shouldn’t speak of this in front of a woman.”

  "I'm fine. If it gets to be too much, I'll just excuse myself." She smiled as he continued to watch her, as if she might change her mind.

  Luke turned his attention back to her father and she let herself relax a little. "Their commander was killed that day and their captain, or the man we assumed to be their captain called for a retreat. It was a small victory, but honestly it was all because of the Viking Erik. As much as I hate to admit it, he was the key to striking fear in the hearts of those cruel bastards."

  The mention of Erik caused Linzi’s heart to seize, her body clenching as she prepared for the devastation that would roll over her every time she thought of his rejection.

  "It seemed like a victory that day, but the men that Erik had pulled from the other camp soon took their leave after he did. Once they left and the Vikings regrouped under new leadership, the war continued. They laid waste to our campsite and we had no other choice but to run. I heard there’s a new faction in the north rising up to fight them, but they razed the place from the ground we originally fought on all the way through Wymington forest. My parents, both ill with fever, didn't survive the slaughter." He looked down at his plate, his breathing a little shaky.

  Linzi reached over and rubbed the back of his hand. Luke glanced at her and responded with a sad smile, the stench of death having been his far too many times over the last month no doubt.

  Linzi turned as her father spoke up, pushing the conversation farther. "So, there’s still fighting?"

  "Yes, Sir, but it’s slowed. I'm sure I'll join back up with our efforts soon. I just needed a place to heal and move past seeing my mother and..." He paused again before standing at the table and excusing himself.

  Linzi waited until he had walked out to confront her father. "He's hurting, Da'. Give him space."

  "He's a man. His father isn't here to help him become one, so I will."

  She wiped her mouth with a small cloth on the table and stood. "I'm going to talk to him. He's just arrived. Give him time to move past his losses. You know that more than anyone."

  Her father watched her closely. "You do that, lass."

  Linzi walked out into the early morning sunlight, Luke standing up on the top of the hill just beyond her mother's stone. He paced back and forth, stopping as she approached. His arms were more toned, his shoulders stronger than the last time she had seen him. The battlefield was a place to grow from boy to man and Luke had done just that. He wasn't anything in comparison to Erik, but he had most certainly filled out from the thin farm boy that left with Kenton. "I'm sorry about my father. He hates not knowing what's going on down the road. I think he believes himself to still be a young man." She clasped her fingers behind her back, stretching until she realized the position jutted out her breasts.

  Luke's eyes scanned across her before making their way back to her face.

  Her cheeks burned as if she were still a girl. Time hadn't forced them into maturing, but situation and circumstance had.

  "He is still young at heart, and I'm okay to share." Luke paused and ran his fingers through his blond hair. "I didn't realize how raw it still feels. I was close to my family, so I'm sure I’m kidding myself in thinking it won't hurt forever."

  "I lost my mum a long time ago, and it feels like my heart cracks open and bleeds when I talk about her." Linzi shrugged and reached up to pull her long hair into a messy bun. The sun pressed against her and made standing still a bit uncomfortable.

  “I need to tell you something.” Luke glanced behind her to make sure no one was behind them. “Something I don't want your father knowing." Luke slid his hands into his breeches pockets and leaned toward her a little, the pensive look on his face causing her stomach to tighten.

  "What?" She crossed her arms over her chest, not liking at all the direction of the conversation.

  "I came to your father's land looking for familiar faces and a place to stay, yes, but also to make sure you were safe."

  "That I was safe?” What a silly comment to make. “Why would you think I wouldn't be? I mean, I'm not safer than anyone else who's in the middle of this war, but..."

  He stepped up, lifting his hand and touching the side of her face. "When the battle was over, I went into the woods with a few other soldiers and we were captured by the Vikings. They were adamant about getting information on Erik. They wanted details on his whereabouts and how he was still alive."

  "Did they hurt you?" Linzi asked, her stomach dropping at the thought of anyone suffering more because of her. Did Erik know any of this? Surely not. He most likely left the battlefield that day and headed straight for her.

  Aye, to say goodbye.

  "They killed everyone, but me.” Luke’s face turned red before he straightened to defend himself. “I'm the only one that survived. I know you're going to hate me, but the bastards wanted to know if there was anyone that Erik had been seen with."

  Linzi jerked back, fear rolling around in her chest. "Did you tell them about me?"

  "I told them he slept with a woman, but I didn't know anything else. They had a knife at my throat and I had just watched eight of my comrade’s die. I was scared, Linzi. I didn't tell them where you were or who, just that Erik was in love with you."

  "And they let you go after that?"

  "Yes, but several of them followed me to my house."

  "What? How do you know?"

  "They escorted me, Linzi.” Luke began to pace again.

  "Oh no." Linzi lifted her hand to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. "Please tell me that they didn't hurt you further."

  "I escaped, but not before they killed my family."

  "Your family died because you wouldn't lead them here?"

  "My family died because I'm a coward and couldn't keep my mouth shut on the field that day." He took a deep breath and reached up, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, but I'll be here until I feel it's safe to leave. It's my fault they're looking for you."

  "W
hy do they want me? I was nothing but a night for their prince."

  Luke flinched and she wished like hell she could pull her words back. They left her sounding and feeling cheap and used. Like the words Luke had thrown at her before Kenton died. It didn't seem far from the truth.

  "You are much more than that, and for some reason, the Viking who laid into all of us knew that."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Erik

  One Month Later

  They arrived into Denmark on the winds of a large storm, the swells in the ocean making it almost impossible to bring the large vessels into port. Erik worked alongside the deckhands, his men more than willing to step up and assist even when they were exhausted. After several hours of wrestling against nature, they finally emerged from the ships, lightning striking much too close for comfort.

  "I do believe the gods were tired of us playing in their waters." John moved off the ship and tightened his grip on his bag.

  "Aye. I wouldn't want a formidable opponent hanging out in my home too long either." Erik winked and moved down through the knee high water. The small band of Vikings behind him let out a large holler as their feet hit the ground. It was good to be home. The thought of seeing his mother washed over him and he hurried his steps, needing to know that the woman was all right.

  She had been through too much and had no idea if he remained alive or not. If word of lies had reached her that he had been murdered in the fields as many thought, she would be beside herself. How long had she been in her mourning clothes?

  "Make haste," Erik barked out as the men danced around and enjoyed themselves. "You may all find shelter at the castle until tomorrow, then you can return to your homes."

  "I'm going home now." John moved past him and waved, Erik smirking in response to his friend. John had a girlfriend who would wait for him until death came knocking at her door. How much would he give to have the same thing in Linzi?

  Erik sighed. It wasn't fair to wish that upon the lass. He had made the decision that landed them in different countries, facing different lives. There was sweet irony that the end result of their separation was due to honor and family. She would remain true to her father's land and he would do no different.

  Somehow it just didn't feel like quite enough.

  Erik took a left turn as they entered the hamlet, the villagers milling about in common activities. "You there. What day is it?"

  "It's Tuesday, Sir." The young man nodded and took a step back as realization moved across his youthful features. "Valhalla’s armor! Prince Erik?"

  "Yes, boy." Erik patted the kid on the shoulder and moved past him toward the castle, which sat in the center of the village.

  "We thought you to be dead," the boy called after him.

  Erik didn't break stride, but picked up his walk into a slow jog. "You thought wrong."

  "My son, let me look at you." His mother ran her gloved hands over his face, pulling him toward her as if he were nothing more than an apparition.

  "Mother. It's me. The rumor that I died was part of the treachery that took Nathaniel's life as well." Erik pulled her into a hug and let her cry for a few minutes. He turned his face toward several servants who had come to the seating room and nodded toward them. "Be gone and leave us. Close the doors behind you."

  They did as he said. Erik pulled back from the tight grasp his mother held, touching her chin and lifting her face toward his. "I'm home now. All will be sorted." He was happy to see his mother but couldn’t make his voice share the joy.

  "I know, and I'm beyond grateful, but after Nathaniel was murdered in his bed... I feared your life would be taken as well." She moved back, reaching for a small cloth on the liquor cabinet and dotting at her eyes. "And then news came that the Britains had killed you as well. No one can fathom my grief."

  She turned as her face crumpled again. Erik had seen his mother cry once in his life – at his father's funeral. She was the strongest woman he had ever known, save Linzi.

  He moved closer, putting his arm around her and retracting it as she wrinkled her nose at him, a soft laugh leaving her in the midst of her tears. "You smell wretched."

  "One minute you're crying over me and the next bitching at me to bathe." He chuckled as she swatted at him.

  "You're home now. No more of that barbarian speak in the presence of our people. Your father would never have allowed it."

  "Of course, mother. I’m going to clean up and then let's talk. I need you to understand what has happened. We have decisions to make about Denmark and those who might think it wise to continue to come against us."

  "You have decisions to make. You’ll be crowned King."

  "Mother..."

  "I'll not wait another minute, Erik. This place has been in political disarray since your father passed. Your brother tried to usher in peace here while maintaining a strong arm overseas and he's not here to tell you of his successes, nor his failures." She dotted at her eyes again. "Go bathe and do not cross me in this. I haven't the strength to do this alone anymore. Send in Zach. I will have him gather the people and make an announcement. We’ll plan the ceremony and in a few month’s time, we honor you, the new King of Denmark."

  There were more stairs to gain access to the second floor of the castle than Erik remembered. He slowed as he reached the top, his stomach on fire for food, his muscles screaming for rest. His legs still thinking they were at sea. He would have to stand before the countryside in a few hours and placate them with an acceptance speech to prepare for the ceremony. He didn't want this – wasn't prepared to rule a country. His father had been the politician and Nathaniel pretended to be one, simply because the soft boy couldn't fight.

  Erik had always been aggressive and physical, his desire to lead the army only forged in the fact that he had one of two choices – rule the country or lead the troops. The option to marry a beautiful copper-haired lass and live out his days with his kids running around him in vast green pastures had never been an option.

  He walked into the bathing room, the water having already been drawn for a bath. He would much prefer the lake outside Linzi's small home, but those days were long gone. He needed to move past thinking about her so often. It scarred him deeper the more he allowed himself to ponder on the what-ifs. It had been several months since he last touched her, but if he closed his eyes, he was right back in the moment with her.

  He stripped bare and lifted the large basin of water, making a mess on the floor as he emptied it into the tub, not giving a damn. He climbed into the tub and sunk down into the lukewarm liquid, leaning his head back and letting out a long sigh.

  A knock at the door had a growl leaving him.

  "What?"

  "Master. The queen has sent me to attend to you." The voice of a young maiden slipped under the closed door and surprised him. As a boy he had been attended to by his keeper, Jackson. As a man he was out fighting far too often to enjoy any of the pleasures of palace life.

  "Come on then." He closed his eyes and leaned back again, not caring what the lass looked like. He wasn't interested in anything beyond a douse of hot water and some soap to clean his skin.

  "I have warm water in this pitcher. Would you like me to pour it in now?"

  "Aye." He opened his eyes and moved his legs to give the girl room. She was no girl, but a woman. Her long brown hair was twisted atop her head, her gaze remaining on his face, but he could sense curiosity in her. She was pretty, but no one had a chance of comparing to beautiful anymore.

  "Would you like me to wash your back?"

  "No.” He sighed. “Yes, and then leave. I'm tired and I don't want to entertain anyone's questions, as simple as they may be." He sat up and bent forward, pressing his face to the water as he splashed it over his head and neck. His hair had grown again and the blond curls needed a wash to rid themselves of the salt from the waters he had returned home on.

  Her hands were soft as she worked the suds into his back, her fingernails scratching him from time to time. He
worked hard not to moan as his imagination turned her from a timid virgin to the full-figured woman he’d left waiting for him in Scotland.

  "Anywhere else?" Her voice shook as she moved to the side of the tub, her eyes wide and bottom lip trembling slightly.

  "No. Be gone." He reached up, taking the soap from her and flicked his wrist at her.

  She nodded politely and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

  He stared at the door. What had his mother been thinking? Send the youngest, most inexperienced girl up to wash his bits and he might sate himself with her?

  Perhaps his brother liked his women timid and scared. Erik couldn't fathom taking a girl like that, but he was wasted on his dreams and desires. Hopefully one day those would die and he would be able to look again without comparing every poor soul to Linzi.

  He lay back against the tub. He’d let himself wonder one more time and then shut his feelings off for her forever. What would she be doing now? Working the land?

  No, it was too late in the autumn for that. The harvest would have come and gone. Was she round with his babe? Was the witch right? Had her breasts grown with the child inside of her?

  He groaned as his body hardened. The desire to be with her during this time, to watch the beauty of her own development for the purpose of bringing life into the world was overwhelming. He was in love with the girl beyond anything he might imagine healthy, and yet he had left without telling her why.

  The promise of him returning had been empty, and they both knew it. The distance was too great and the need of his people overwhelming, only able to be resolved by someone in his bloodline.

  He slid his hand down the firm swell of his abdomen, grabbing onto the full length of his manhood and stroking firmly as he groaned again. How badly he needed her. How painful it was not to be able to take her into his arms and bury his body deep inside of hers.

  He stroked again, his hips lifted as he shuddered with need.