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

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Celtic Mann: A Historical Viking Scottish Romance (Heart of the Battle Series Book 3) Page 10

by Lexy Timms


  "Everything all right?" He glanced down at her. “Kenton asleep?”

  "Yes. Everything is as it should be."

  "Good. Let's go home and get some rest."

  She swallowed and mulled over the thoughts running through her head. Guilt always seemed to be her constant companion. "We could go home and you could make love to me. It's been forever since you've touched me and we’re alone tonight." He hadn’t touched her since before her belly had grown large with baby.

  Luke chuckled and squeezed her hand. "Another night, lass. I'm tired from the long day we've had. Soon... I promise."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Erik

  Panic washed over him as he turned and ran from the grand room, his grief far greater than his anger. Paul had come clean, and thank the heaven's he had, but how long had he held the note? Was it real? Had Marcus found Linzi? What had he done to her? Was she alive?

  He choked back tears as he took to the stairs three at a time. He would kill anyone, everyone, in his way until he made it back. If Linzi was dead at the hands of his cousin, he would massacre his kin and lay his own sword to his chest.

  Another thought crossed his mind. His endless dreams tormenting him to the point of being irrational. What if Marcus had fooled Linzi and tricked her into falling in love with him? His fire woman lying naked, her legs spread for Marcus’ seed, begging him again and again.

  He raced into his room and grabbed a bucket, tossing the contents of his stomach into it.

  It hadn’t happened. His mind was just playing tricks on him

  What if Marcus murdered her?

  Nothing would be viler than to live a life without her. She was all he was counting on... surely the gods wouldn't strip him of that promise.

  "Erik. What's the matter, boy?" Jackson moved into the room as Erik rushed about, trying to gather his thoughts enough to pack a bag.

  "I have to go."

  "Yes, your mother told me you would be leaving soon. I did not realize it was tonight.”

  Erik shoved a few shirts and a pair of shoes and breeches in a small shoulder sack before glancing at his caregiver. "I have to leave tonight. My ship sails in less than an hour. I have to go."

  "Does your mother know?"

  "No, but run along and tell her. Marcus is not dead! He has been planning this since… since…” He threw a pewter candle holder against the wall, the flame of the light dying from the wind. “I don’t know when! The bastard is alive. No one is safe.” He has my Linzi. Erik glanced over at Jackson as he swallowed hard, not wanting to show the torrent of emotions that raced through him.

  Jackson nodded curtly. “Of course, Sire. I'll meet you with a bag of food near the castle entrance shortly."

  "Thank you, old friend." Erik turned and grabbed the older man, holding him in an embrace before rushing to gather his sword and knife. He paused when he was alone, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the ceiling to say a silent prayer. It would take him a month or better to get back to Linzi. If she was with Marcus she was as good as dead. If not already. Erik swore under his breath, he wouldn’t allow himself to think that way. He had to get back to Britain. Marcus didn't take well to women and treated them like the trash under his feet.

  Erik sheathed his sword and grabbed his carved knife. He hadn’t used it in a long time, the memory of Linzi too painful to touch at times. Hope slipped through him as he held the handle.

  Maybe Marcus hadn't gotten to Linzi yet. Maybe there was still time. She was a resourceful woman, maybe Marcus was hanging by a rope in her barn now. Hope would have to suffice, for it was all he had at the moment. Erik finished packing and threw the small bag over his shoulder again before rushing down to the bottom of the stairs.

  His mother stood waiting, her eyes red from crying once more. "Your Paul told me everything." She reached for him and he wrapped his arms around her, hugging tightly.

  He held her tight. “I love you, mother... I have to go."

  "Your secret is safe,” she whispered. “Only a few of us here and the men on the ship know who you are and that you're leaving. I will construct a brilliant story for now." She smiled before her tears. “When the council men hear what I have to say… All will be protected here. Go and do what you have to do. Kill that bastard who called himself my nephew.” Her eyes burned with hatred.

  Paul walked out into the foyer, sadness sitting on him. "I never realized, Mum.” He kept his head down as he stood by the door waiting for Erik. “Marcus made us believe Erik did not want to serve Denmark. His heart was set upon greed, not country."

  Erik did not have time to explain. They had a ship to catch. He hugged his mother one last time. "I will always be in support of our people and their lives. How they determine what's best and isn't, might be another matter, but I am the son of the greatest king Demark has ever seen."

  Paul made a loud noise behind Erik as he hit his chest. "That you are, Sire."

  Erik pressed his cheek to his mother’s. "Pray for me and my lass, mother. Pray that Marcus hasn't found her and that I find him first."

  "I will, son. Make haste."

  Erik nodded to Paul before turning and walking toward the large ornate door at the front of the castle. Jackson called for him and he paused, turning to take the large bag of food from the older man.

  "Would you have me feed every man on the ship?" Erik asked. He tried to keep his parting light, though he struggled with the overwhelming sense of finality that the future was sure to bring.

  "Not unless you need it to bargain with."

  "I'm the King of Denmark. I'm not sure I need anything to bargain with."

  "This is true. Make haste, Erik."

  Erik slipped out into the night, a large stallion waiting at the edge of the castle gate for him. John stood, holding the beautiful beast's reins, his smile dropping as Erik approached.

  "I heard what happened. Be careful."

  "You're not coming with me?" Erik laughed, but the sound fell flat.

  "You know I am. This is your fight and I sure as hell want to watch it! Let’s go kill the bastard and take your woman to bed."

  Erik’s eyebrows rose at the comment.

  “Damn, Sire. I meant, I’m coming to watch you kill the bastard and take your woman to bed.”

  “Really? I’m still your king, John." Despite the seriousness of the moment, Erik grinned.

  John tugged at his horses reins. “I promise I’ll not watch you bed your woman. Apologies, Sire.”

  Erik worked to secure his bags to the black horse before hoisting himself up. “I'll see you again here or one day in Valhalla."

  "Damn right you will." John nodded. “We are coming back here.”

  Erik didn’t respond. Instead, he kicked his horse into action, with John and Paul at his heels as they rode hard and fast to the edge of the water where several large ships sat.

  The largest ship, a merchant vessel, belonged to a lord from somewhere in England, but the captain was more than accommodating to allow Erik to bring his horse on board. Several men took the animal and secured him with several others that they were taking back to England with them. Erik spent time going over the trip with the captain and talking with his small band of men. Hours later, his homeland no longer in view, only water surrounding him in every direction, he finally made his way to a bunk and crawled in it. The sun would be surfacing soon and he was beyond tired.

  Three Weeks Later

  The storms for the last few weeks had been horrendous. Several times in the midst of the lightning and thunderbolts Erik thought he might meet his end. The food supplies were running out and the coast had yet to come into view.

  "It's the fog. Surely we're almost there." The captain of the ship moved up next to Erik as he stood looking out at the never-ending body of water.

  "I've seen fog like this before. On the battlefield it was always present. As if the ghosts of the dead walked among us, waiting to add more to their hoards."

  "I've heard that before." The
captain's mouth lifted in a smile, the older man smelling quite stale and coughing a bit too often. "There. Land AHOY!"

  The men around them rushed to the front of the ship and crowded around as the fog began to dissipate enough to see the green coast."

  The rolling hills and rugged mountains were not what he expected to see. "I thought we were going to the southern tip?" Erik turned and lifted his eyebrow. Certainly the land in front of them belonged to the Scots, the rich color giving credence to Erik's thoughts.

  "We are, but the winds have blown us off course and we need food.”

  "My journey ends here."

  "You know where we are?”

  “Oye.”

  “Then it seems as though you are just beginning your journey." The captain laughed and patted Erik on the back.

  It took everything within him not to jump into the water and swim for the shore. He was almost there and could make it to Linzi within a day traveling on his steed. He turned and pushed through the crowd, rushing down to his bunk to gather his things.

  He was almost home to her... would she still be at her father's? Would her life be whole and right? Had Marcus beat him to finding her?

  Sickness rolled over him as he pressed his hand to his stomach, fighting back a wave of nausea. The ship surged forward, his breakfast rising in his chest higher. He focused on the task at hand and gathered his things before moving quickly to the horse stalls.

  John and Paul were waiting for him there.

  “Tell the men when they disembark to find somewhere to lay low. When we need them, we will send for them.

  John nodded. He glanced at Paul, distrust clear in his eyes. “This bastard stays with me. I’ll not leave him alone with you, especially when you find Marcus. It may all still be a plot.”

  Erik did not care. All he could taste was the closeness of almost finding Linzi. He wouldn’t ever let her go again. “Take the men and stay with them. Keep Paul at your side at all times. I’ll send for you when I need you.”

  John looked like he wanted to argue but pressed his lips tight. Erik was his commander but also still his king.

  The horses whined as the ship began to slow from the sand beneath it.

  Erik leaned down and pressed his face to the side of his animal, rubbing her thick neck and whispering in her ear. "Be ready to go girl. Race like life depended on it. Yours is secure, but I have no idea what may become of mine."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Linzi

  She had nothing to say, nor could she argue.

  Luke had once again rejected her advances, and as with each time, she promised herself it would be the last. No way could she survive in a world where she forced herself to desire the touch of a man, and yet the one man that had the right to reach for her, refused to.

  "You all right?" Luke asked as they approached the house.

  "Yes, just not sleeping so well.” She racked her brain to come up with something to explain away why. “I guess the chill of this early winter has me on edge." Since the baby had been born, Luke had taken to sleeping in her brother’s old room. She kept the babe close to her during the nights.

  Luke paused at the doorway of the house, turning and reaching out to touch Linzi's face. "You know I care deeply for you, right?"

  "I do, and I care about you." She forced herself to remain focused on his gaze, not wanting the truth of her heart to spill out over them.

  They watched each other for a moment in a too-comfortable silence. He hadn't admitting to loving her in a long time. He cared about her from what she gathered, but he didn't love her. If there was no love between then, then why was Luke willing to take on the burden of raising a child that wasn't his own? Why was he here in the first place? Why not leave and give her peace over the fact that if she couldn't have Erik, no one would suffice, better than living a lie. Maybe he had never loved her. Maybe Luke had thought he did but simply decided the land that came with their marriage was worth more than happiness. She pushed the thought aside, it seemed wrong.

  Her father had lit a flame of hope inside of her, but Erik was nowhere in sight. He was a million miles away, living a life of his own. If there was a way to get to him, she, like her father, would traverse the earth to do it.

  It was futile and this was her life. “Luke, we’ll find a way.” She hoped he would understand her words.

  "I'm trying to be the man you need me to be.” His voice was soft, the slight draw of his brow giving way to his emotions. He was hurting and she was most likely the cause of it.

  "I like you just as you are, Luke." She leaned forward and kissed him softly.

  He moved back and nodded, turning and disappearing into the darkness of the house.

  Lies. Such lies she had been living. She turned and walked into the field, away from the house and in the opposite direction of her father’s place. She wasn’t paying attention to where, she just wanted to get away. Her steps turned into a fast run as she pushed herself up the hill as emotion bubbled over. Anger swept through her and she covered her mouth, silently screaming into her fingers until she shook.

  Why had Erik come into her life? Only to teach her a lesson about wanting more than she should?

  "I've learned it," she yelled silently at the sky. "Make it go away," she whimpered. “Give me something of myself back. The fire. The passion. Something that made me feel alive.” Crumbling by her mother’s grave, Linzi let out a wounded moan and sunk into the dying grass. Fall was giving way to winter and the air was becoming more and more difficult to breathe. She reached out and touched her mother's grave, laying her head on the stone and closing her eyes.

  Her fingers played along the soft skin of her left shoulder, the inking still bright and beautiful as if it held life of its own. It was a cry for freedom, a declaration of womanhood. It was her and him and all the things she would never get to be.

  The wind moved around her, the air cold and night sky dark as the clouds brushed across the moon.

  "You should have heard Da’ tonight." She turned and pressed her forehead to her mother's grave. "He loves you as I love Erik. He would search all of heaven and hell to find you, Ma. Did you know that he adores you so?"

  "It is a love for the ages." The deep sound of a male voice caused her to jump.

  Linzi took hold of the stone and stood, her heart contracting in her chest as she narrowed her eyes. "Who's there?"

  "Ahhh, you don't know me, lass, but I know you." The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but almost like the passing of a stranger. A timbre you heard once and never forgot. “But you’re wrong about love for the ages. It’s all shite.” He spat on the ground.

  She didn’t like his tone or that he hid in the shadows. "I'm not alone. My husband will come out and kill you for being on our land. You best be gone." She took a tentative step back, trying to dig in her memory for where to lay a punch best. It had been almost a year since she had been worried about such things. To the nose or the ballics... that would work.

  A dark shadow moved in the tree line and she stifled the need to scream in fear. Had the man not spoken, she would have assumed him to be an animal – a large animal.

  She took another few steps back as he walked from the forest, recognition of his handsome face dawning on her. "I've seen you before," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. Running from a man this size would only get her broken, or killed.

  “Aye, you have." He took another step, stopping by her mother's grave and kneeling. He wiped the dirt from the top, looking at the front of it before glancing back to her. "Your husband isn't going to save you. Best leave him in the house or his death will be upon your hands."

  Viking. The accent was unmistakable. He wasn’t one of Erik’s men that had followed him back after Kenton died. She was sure of it. This man was half-mad. "I'm not scared of you. My husband fought in the Viking wars. He battled bravely and is one of the few men to return."

  The man laughed, a deep guttural sound full of mockery. "Oh, I know your hu
sband. He was one of the men we took after their warrior left them standing in a field of blood. He’s not brave, nor is he much of a fighter."

  She ignored his comments about Luke. "What warrior?" She needed to distract the man, by the way he stared at her breasts, he wasn’t interested in land or anything besides her. She may have felt dead inside without Erik, but she would fight this barbarian till her death before she let him touch her.

  "Do you remember when we met about a year ago or so in the village? On your wedding night? D’you remember the man we talked of?”

  She tried to remember him but couldn’t place where.

  He snorted. “You know... Erik."

  She shuddered, tightening her hold on herself as the wind blew her hair about her. "I have no concern over your king, Viking. Perhaps you should go back home to him. The wars are over and your people have all gone home."

  He snarled as if biting at the air. “He’s no king of mine. And the Vikings are still here, just hiding amongst your Highlanders. A day will come when we rise up again. We will not be pushed down, Linzi."

  "How do you know my name?" She took another step, her eyes moving about. She needed to find a weapon, a large rock or sharp branch… something, should the trespasser attack. His hair had grown out, his chin covered in the same dusty brown color. He was stunning and terrifying. However, his likeness to Erik still continued to stab her square in the chest.

  He leaned against her mother’s stone, as if desecrating the rock by his mere touch. "I know a lot about you. Your pathetic desire for a husband left you with a frail coward that spilled his dinner the first time my knife touched his chest. He told us all about your encounters with the king." Anger slipped into the man's voice, his tone where Erik was concerned left her with little doubt as to how he felt about her beloved.

  "I don't know what you're talking about. You need to leave now.” She sounded pathetic and knew it. “It's the last warning you're going to get, bastard."

 

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