DEBTS (Vinlanders' Saga Book 3)

by Frankie Robertson

  Was this how his father had felt?

  Aren had always regarded his father’s action through a filter of anger and guilt. That anger was deserved. His father had failed to answer his lord’s summons to a border skirmish, and with the lack of his leadership good men had died. It hadn’t mattered that his father had remained at home to stay with his ailing wife. He’d broken his oath.

  Had Aren not been out hunting and not expected back till the morrow, his father could have kept faith. But neither Aren nor his father had known the call would come that day.

  Still, his father could have kept his promise. Their neighbor’s wife would have stayed with Aren’s mother if she’d only been asked, but a longstanding feud and his father’s pride had prevented him from seeking aid from that quarter.

  For the first time Aren wondered, what had his father felt when he decided to deny the oath he’d sworn? Knowing full well what the consequences would be, and that the taint of breaking faith with his lord would fall upon Aren and his mother, too, how had his father made that choice?

  Aren refused to do that again to his mother, or to his daughter. Whatever the cost, Aren had to fulfill his duty to Lord Fender and the Jarl.

  A flickering in the shadows drew his attention. A multi-pronged buck nosed out into the small clearing, seeking the scent of danger on the sweet summer air. Aren held still. Satisfied, the buck led his small family of two does, a tiny spotted fawn, and a half grown male into the open to graze the new green grass. Thanking the gods for their gift, Aren drew, aimed, and let fly.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Annikke watched Vali’s chest rise and fall gently in the deep slumber typical of young males. He’d fallen asleep again after eating a sizable quantity of Aren’s journey-bread drizzled with the last of her honey.

  He hasn’t told us his full story.

  Aren knew it, too, although he hadn’t said anything. They’d merely exchanged a look and known they were in agreement. Neither of them considered whatever secrets the boy was keeping to be dangerous. Aren wouldn’t have left Annikke and Benoia alone with him if he’d thought so. She had no way to know that about him, but she did.

  Benoia lightly touched Vali’s neck, seeking the pulse of his life. “He’s much stronger now,” she said softly.

  Annikke nodded.

  Benoia pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

  Something was troubling the girl, which was hardly surprising given what she’d been through this last sevenday. Annikke rose and gestured for Benoia to follow her a little way apart from the youth so their conversation wouldn’t wake him. Not that it was likely to, given how far he still had to go to recover.

  “Tell me,” Annikke said in her usual brisk way.

  “I know Aren said the Jarl is a fair man, but can we really be sure? What promises has the Jarl made to Lord Tholvar, that he must keep? He may only want Aren to find us so he can turn us over to Tholvar. We’re only women, and men can do what they will with us.”

  With what Benoia had endured in her father’s house and with Sveyn, Annikke couldn’t fault the girl for her sour regard of men.

  “I can’t bear it that I’ve put you at risk,” Benoia continued. “I ought to take this chance while Aren is gone to run as far from here as possible, but I’ve given my parole. It’s me that he was sent to find and take to Quartzholm. I’ll go. But there’s no need for you to suffer because of what I did. You should return home to the cottage.”

  Annikke’s heart twisted as Benoia made her selfless and foolish offer. “Silly girl, I’ve given Aren my parole as well. I can no more run off than you.”

  Benoia shook her head. “He’ll release you from it. We both needn’t go. I don’t believe Aren will harm me, and Vali is on the mend. I can see to his health as well as the two of us together can.”

  If Benoia could see that Aren was an honorable man despite what Sveyn had tried to do, Annikke had hope that her girl could again find some happiness—if Lord Dahleven permitted.

  And Aren was an honorable man. It made no sense, but Annikke trusted him even though she’d known him barely a day.

  “You can, indeed, but you won’t have to.” Annikke’s throat tightened as she pulled Benoia into a tight embrace. “I could never find any joy in our cottage, even if Lord Tholvar allowed me to, if I left you to face your fate alone. Whatever fate the Norns may weave—”

  Stealthy movement in the forest froze the words on Annikke’s tongue. Aren had left in another direction, and he wouldn’t be sneaking back into camp. Quickly she returned to Vali’s side and slipped the dagger he’d carried from its sheath. Benoia hefted a branch from the firewood as a club.

  It wasn’t an animal that kept coming closer, striding between the tree trunks. It was a man carrying a long knife.

  His face broke into a grin as he saw them. “Len! Boyart! Morlegg! I’ve found them,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  From the dappled forest shadows a voice called, “What? I can’t hear you, I’m taking a piss.”

  The man lifted his gaze to the sky as if asking Odin for patience, then looked back to Annikke and Benoia. His grin faded as he took in Vali’s still form. “Did you maim him with your dark magic, too?”

  “Leave here.” Annikke tried to make her voice firm. “Or I’ll do the same to you.”

  She felt Benoia’s surprise at her threat though she didn’t dare spare her foster-daughter a glance.

  “I don’t think so, mistress.” A man’s voice came from Annikke’s right and she heard the creak of a bow being drawn. “You’ll not get close enough to cast your spells.”

  “A timely arrival, Len,” the first man said. “Now put down your weapons. I’ll not tell you twice.”

  Benoia threw her branch away. “It’s me you want. Leave Annikke out of it.” She stepped forward.

  “No!” Annikke jerked Benoia back behind her. In that short time the first man had covered half the distance to them. Annikke thrust the knife in her hand outward. “Stay back!”

  “What’s going on?” Vali struggled to sit up. He blinked away sleep, then his expression became fierce as he took in the drawn weapons and the tension. “Forest bandits,” he sneered. “Begone! There’s nothing for you here.” His tone belonged to someone who was used to being obeyed.

  “Well aren’t you the little lordling!” The man with the knife laughed, barely sparing a glance for Vali as he advanced on Annikke. “You should learn to mind your tongue, boy.”

  The next thing she knew, he’d knocked both Annikke and her blade to the ground.

  “Leave her alone!” Benoia lunged to push the man back, but he just backhanded her aside.

  He knelt and pressed his knife against Annikke’s throat. “Back off, witch, or I’ll cut her!”

  The steel was cold and sharp on her skin. Annikke didn’t dare move.

  Benoia froze, still as ice where she’d fallen. “Don’t!”

  “Len, tie her up.” The man jerked his head at Benoia.

  “I’m not touching her.”

  “I’ll do it,” a third male voice said. “I’m not afraid of a girl. A pretty one, at that. We could have some fun here, before we take them back.”

  Horror made Annikke jump and distant pain sliced her neck. “Don’t you touch her!” She wouldn’t let another animal threaten her daughter that way. Not again. Her captor pushed her down with a hard hand between her breasts.

  “Don’t you know what she did, Boyart?” Len asked. “Shriveled Lord Sveyn’s cock so it looks like a root left too long in the cellar. My Helga saw it when the Healer came. He couldn’t do nothing for it, neither. I’m not getting my dick anywhere near her.”

  Boyart laughed as he tied Benoia hand and foot. “Well, if my dick was starting out as small as yours I’d be worried, too. Lucky for me, I got a whole lot more to share.”

  Vali lunged to his feet, a burning brand in both hands. “Let them go!” he commanded in a voice that was stronger than his legs.

  “Put it down boy,
” yet another voice said from beyond Annikke’s field of vision.

  How many of them are there?

  Vali swung around, brandishing the flaming branch. There was the sound of wood hitting wood once, twice. Vali grunted with effort, then a new man advanced and pushed the now disarmed youth back down onto his blankets. Vali gathered himself to rise again.

  The man pointed his staff at him. “Don’t be stupid, boy. Give me your parole, or I’ll truss you up like these witches and leave you to rot in the forest.” He nodded at Annikke and Benoia.

  “Do as he says,” Annikke said.

  “Listen to her. We have no quarrel with you.”

  Vali’s face twisted with anger. “I won’t give my parole to a coward who threatens women.”

  The man standing over Vali lifted his hand and there was the sound of a slap. “When you’re out of leading strings you can talk to me of cowardice, boy. Until then, keep your mouth shut.” The man drew a leather thong from his belt and knotted Vali’s wrists together.

  “You’ve no right to—” Vali protested.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. We’re here on Lord Sveyn’s business.”

  “Be quiet, Morlegg!” the man with the knife commanded.

  “You lie,” Vali said. “You wear no lord’s sigil.”

  Morlegg cuffed Vali on the back of the head this time. “Mind your manners, pup! Or I’ll gag you, too.”

  Annikke jerked, wanting to intervene, but the thirsty blade bit her neck.

  “Perhaps you should learn to mind yours.” A woman dressed in green and brown leathers stood at the forest’s edge. She was perhaps ten years older than Annikke, with brown hair tightly clubbed at the base of her neck. Her drawn bow was steady and aimed squarely between Morlegg’s shoulder blades.

  Morlegg whipped around as the woman spoke, then froze as he saw the archer intently aiming at his chest.

  Off to the side, Len shifted his aim to the new threat.

  “Draw down.” Another woman spoke from just behind Len. “My blade is hungry for a foolish man’s blood.”

  Len squawked, and Annikke spared him a glance. Standing behind him, a plump woman a few summers senior to Benoia had her dagger pressed against his throat. Annikke had been so focused on Morlegg and Vali she hadn’t seen or heard the women approach. Apparently, neither had Len. He let his string go slack and unnocked his arrow.

  “Drop it,” she commanded. “The bow, too.”

  “This is no concern of yours,” the man pressing the knife to Annikke’s throat interrupted. It bit deeper and she felt a drop of blood tickle down her neck. “These women are wanted by Lord Tholvar. They used Odin’s dark seidhr to maim his son. You’re interfering with the Jarl’s justice.”

  “Drop your weapons,” the first woman ordered. “Then you can complain all you want.” When he hesitated, she added, “Or I can let fly my arrow and you’ll be short a friend. I’ll not miss at this range. You choose.”

  “Stevek?” Morlegg said, lifting his hands. “I’m not interested in dying for this.”

  “They’re just women,” Boyart sneered from where he still knelt beside Benoia. He had a knife in his hand pressed hard against Benoia’s belly. “They don’t have the balls to kill. But I do. And if you don’t back off, I’ll slice this witch open so Fenrir can eat her guts. Now you put down your weapons.”

  “And spread our legs so you can show us what we’ve been missing?” The woman aiming at Morlegg asked.

  Boyart leered. A second later an arrow from an unseen archer sprouted from his eye.

  Stevek tossed his knife aside.

  Annikke jumped to her feet and ran to Benoia. Using Boyart’s blade, she cut her daughter’s bonds and gathered her close. “Are you all right?”

  “Are you?” Benoia touched the bloody cut on Annikke’s neck.

  Annikke felt warmth as Benoia’s touch healed her and the sting faded. “Don’t,” she murmured. “Not now.”

  Her foster-daughter looked stricken. “I didn’t mean to,” she breathed.

  “Now drop your arrow and bow!” The plump woman prodded Len with her knife.

  Instead Len stabbed backward with the arrow in his fist. The woman yelped, but as Len spun, swinging his bow like a club, she danced aside. Quicker than Annikke could see, she stabbed him in the back below his ribs. With an agonized scream the man’s back arched and he fell. A moment later he lay quiet, blood staining the ground beneath his body.

  Stevek turned and charged, bellowing with rage, another knife appearing in his hand. An instant later an arrow sprouted from his shoulder, another from his neck. He staggered, hands clutching at his throat. His momentum carried him forward to his target, but the woman stepped aside as he toppled at her feet.

  Morlegg ran for the trees. A third woman emerged from the forest on Annikke’s left, an arrow on the string. She drew and loosed, but the arrow thunked into a tree as the man fled into the forest. She started to sprint after him, but the first woman called out, “Let him go.”

  Annikke watched, dumb and still. She’d never seen such a thing. She’d heard tales of shield maidens from ages past, but she’d never imagined meeting women who could fight like Valkyries and win against armed men.

  “Were there only the four of them?” the first woman asked, drawing Annikke’s attention.

  Benoia answered. “They’re all we saw.”

  The woman nodded, and spoke to the other two women. “Kellan, scout the area.”

  Kellan acknowledged the order with a tip of her blond head, then disappeared back beneath the trees.

  “I’m Norva,” the first woman introduced herself, “and that’s Halageth.” She indicated the plump woman.

  Annikke noted that the woman didn’t use their patronyms in her introduction. Were they Outcasts? Even if they were, they’d just saved Benoia from being abducted by Lord Tholvar’s men. For that alone, she owed them courtesy, even if their actions were likely to make a bad situation worse. Lord Tholvar would no doubt blame Benoia for the death of his men. “I’m Annikke Torrsonsdatter, and this is my foster-daughter, Benoia Fornosdatter. I thank you for your timely arrival and intervention.”

  Norva nodded. “Merely repaying a debt, since you found and cared for Lord Vali.”

  Annikke lifted a brow and looked down at the youth in his blankets. “Lord Vali?”

  “Aye,” Hallageth said as she rose from cutting the young man free of his bonds. “This is Lady Solveig’s son, and heir to Forsvaremur. Did you not know?”

  A slew of questions crowded Annikke’s tongue, but she kept her answer short. “No. He didn’t choose to confide that to us.”

  “I renounced my inheritance. I’m not a lord anymore.” Vali, Lord Vali, struggled to his feet.

  It was Norva’s turn to look surprised. “You did what? Are you daft, boy? I mean, my lord.” In a voice half directed at herself, she said, “Lady Solveig’s messenger said nothing of this.” She waved her hand. “Never mind. That’s between you and your lady mother. All I know, all I care about, is returning you to her.”

  Vali drew himself up. “I’m not a lost puppy.”

  “Could have fooled me,” Hallageth muttered.

  Norva shot her companion a quelling glance. “Nevertheless, my lord, Lady Solveig has tasked everyone able to leave their duties with finding you, even the Daughters of Freya.”

  Halageth steadied him as Vali wobbled.

  Norva looked alarmed. “Are you unwell, my lord?” She speared Annikke with a fear sharpened gaze. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Emergence Exhaustion. You wouldn’t happen to have any stirkedrikk, would you?”

  “Baldur’s bright shiny … buttons,” Norva swore. “What were you thinking, to leave when you were in Emergence? My lord.”

  “I wasn’t in Emergence when I left.”

  Vali began to shake, and Benoia moved to bracket him with Halageth on his other side.

  “You’d best sit down before you fall down,” Benoia said, helping hi
m back to his nest of blankets.

  “Damn,” Norva swore, “I don’t have any stirkkedrikk.”

  “Yes, we do,” Halageth said.

  Norva looked at her companion, brows raised.

  Hallageth shrugged, her expression sheepish. “The messenger said to bring some, just in case. I threw a flask in my pack and forgot about it.” She left to retrieve her sack from the forest. A few minutes later Annikke had administered the extremely sweet draught while Vali made a disgusted face.

  “Bleh. That’s vile,” he complained.

  “Will that be enough?” Norva asked.

  “I don’t know. Aren is out hunting. It will be a while before he returns, but until then we’ve got journey-bread.” Annikke matched words to action, handing a piece to the young lord.

  Vali made a face but took the dry round and bit into it with a crunch.

  “Here.” Halageth dug into her pack and produced a wooden cup into which she poured an amber liquid. “Soak it in this cider so you don’t break a tooth.”

  “My thanks.” Vali accepted the cup and fell upon the journey-bread with a ferocity only seen in starving wolves and youths in Emergence.

  The women watched in silence with a kind of awe that he could still be that hungry even after drinking the stirkedrikk. Vali had barely finished and set down the empty cup when his eyes drooped.

  Annikke knelt to pull the blanket close around his sleeping form.

  Norva squatted on lean haunches on the other side of Vali. “Is that normal?” She didn’t try to keep the worry out of her voice. “I’ve never seen Emergence take someone like this before.”

  “Nor have I,” Annikke answered. “But he is late coming to it, and he’d used his Talent unknowing for days before we found him. Had Aren not been able to track him…”

  “We think that he’ll be all right as long as we keep him fed and let him rest,” Benoia added.

  “Thank the gods. The Daughters of Freya owe Lady Solveig much. I wouldn’t want us to be the bearers of tragic news.”