Desire's Fury (Viking's Fury Book 2)

by Violetta Rand

  “Eva?” Markkos sounded so angry. “You betrayed me.”

  “How?” Roald demanded. “By confiding in someone who believes in her? By trusting a friend?”

  “Is that what she is to you?” Markkos’s tone cut through Eva. He hated her even more now. “I am not blind, Jarl Roald. My sister’s beauty is well known in the mountains. Men ask for her hand every day.”

  “What?” Eva shot up from the chair. “Do not lie, Markkos.”

  “Mother raised you to be humble, girl.” He focused on Roald again. “The Sami do not live as you do. And a noaidi must remain untouched. Eva is our future. The only one who can take my mother’s place.”

  “Then why is she forced to hide her powers?” Roald asked.

  Eva stood beside her brother. “You’ve never recognized me as little more than a witch. Why do you come here and act as if I’m so important? Mother will never endorse me, not until I dream.”

  She gazed at Roald then, hoping he’d keep her secret about her first night vision. He nodded with understanding.

  “Please, Markkos, answer me.”

  “Your marriage contract has been signed, Eva. Iisku has paid for you already. Twenty reindeer have been added to our herd.”

  Tears burned Eva’s eyes. “Your herd.”

  “Yes.” Markkos gave her a triumphant grin. “Mother even approved. She prays that marriage will open your heart to the gods.”

  “Love will open my heart, not marriage to a man I cannot stand the sight of. The two of you are cut from the same cloth, Markkos. Maybe you should divorce your wife and marry Iisku. You deserve each other.”

  Markkos slapped her cheek.

  She gasped as Roald catapulted over the table and tackled her brother to the ground. With his knee pressed into Markkos’s throat, he punched him mercilessly. “Never raise a hand to Eva again.”

  By the third strike, her brother’s face was already bloodied and swollen.

  “Roald,” she whispered over him. “Please, let him go.”

  Her Viking slowly backed off. “Only for you, Eva.”

  “Thank you,” she croaked, overcome with emotions. Then she knelt beside her brother. “Go home, Markkos. Tell anyone who will listen that I am no longer a maiden. I am unworthy of marriage.”

  Markkos hoisted himself off the floor to a sitting position. He dabbed at his lower lip, then inspected his fingers. “I’m bleeding.”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “From several spots.” The spiteful look on her brother’s face made her pulse race.

  “This is your fault.” He pointed at Roald. “You’ve corrupted her, used her as a common whore.” He stumbled to his feet.

  “No,” Eva said. “I offered myself to Jarl Roald. Visited his chamber late at night when he intended to bed another woman. I alone am to blame.”

  “Accept the consequences for your bad choices, Eva.” He spat on the floor at her feet. “Live as a lowlander then, for you are never welcome in our home again.”

  Eva watched as her brother walked away, not missing the string of insults he muttered as he disappeared down the passageway.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Roald had no patience for fools. And Eva’s brother had shown his true nature by coming here to start a fight. The man didn’t care for his sister. He only wanted to protect her like any other piece of property.

  Roald waited patiently for Eva to say something, but she only lingered in the doorway.

  “Try to forget him,” he said.

  “Forget?” She swung around. “The way you’d let Konal, Runa, or Haakon slip from your mind?”

  “I am not here to argue with you, Eva. But to protect you.”

  “I’m not sure I believe it. Not after what you told me in the hall before Markkos arrived. Though you’ve offered me a home, your motivations are the same as my brother’s. I refuse to submit myself to any of this.”

  “Tis a man’s world, Eva. Finding the right one who cares about you will make your life easier to live. Whether you accept it or not, you must answer to someone.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I obey the gods. Not Markkos, and surely not a man I’ve known little more than a fortnight.”

  He edged closer, unwilling to accept her words. “You should have considered that before you slept with me.”

  “Bedding you doesn’t mean I have to stay with you, Jarl Roald. From what I’ve heard, Norsemen take women all the time without worrying about their honor. Do you think it impossible for a woman to do the same? To want pleasure without the prospect of marriage or being kept by her lover?”

  “Things are different between us.”

  “Are they? Our clans don’t have a peace treaty. We trade occasionally. Nothing more.”

  Her cruel thoughts penetrated his heart like an arrow. “This isn’t the Eva I know. You’re hurt and angry. We can revisit this tomorrow, after we’ve slept.”

  “I am certain nothing will change, sir. I must put things right with my family before it’s too late. Markkos is well on his way to the mountains. I must take a chance and reach my mother before he does.”

  “No.” He grabbed her arms and stared deep into her pained eyes. “You knew the risk of coming here. You chose to enter my chamber with the other maidens and compete for my affection. You chose to give yourself to me. And as your brother said, accept the consequences.”

  “This is the last place I’d stay. For days I’ve begged you to let me go. Instead, you used my body against me—to trap me. No more,” she cried. “I am noaidi. And if my own family rejects me, there are other places I can go. You’ve traveled the world, Jarl Roald, what’s across the North Sea? Surely a woman with my healing talents would be welcomed by the Saxons.”

  “Or burned as a witch.”

  “Silvia told me about Jorvik. The Danes would embrace me.”

  “To hold you in place while they fucked you.”

  She pushed him away, tears streaming down her cheeks. “As you did.”

  He reached for her, but changed his mind. Nothing he could say or do would satisfy her now. That indomitable spirit would get her killed if she didn’t learn how to control it. But Roald didn’t want an unwilling partner. As much as he cared, as much as he’d prayed for her to conceive his child and stay with him, he refused to keep her here against her will any longer. The only reason he’d refused to let her go this long was to have enough time to show her how wonderful their lives together could be.

  “Du er fri.” The hardest words he’d ever spoken. “Go. Find your place in this tired world, Eva.”

  Her eyes widened with disbelief. “I’m free?”

  “Troel will escort you to the foothills where I found you.”

  “I am speechless, milord.”

  She’d never know how much it hurt to go against his most basic instincts. If she were any other woman, he’d lock her in a room until she submitted. But not his Eva. He’d die before he tried to break her, to extinguish the fire in her eyes. Half her allure, that wild beauty that radiated from her, came from the freedom she knew wandering in the mountains.

  “Don’t linger, Eva. I might change my mind.”

  She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you. I will never forget you, Roald. Never.”

  His arms hung at his sides, unable to move, unwilling to hold on to what he couldn’t keep.

  Then she did something he never expected. She knelt before him like a thrall would, her head bowed low in reverence. “You are a good man,” she said. “May my gods give you wisdom and strength.”

  “Rise, Eva.”

  She did.

  “Goodbye.” She turned to go.

  “Wait!” He walked to a chest beside his table and opened it. “You’ve earned it.” He offered her a bag of silver coins. “Odin keep and protect you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  As Eva and Troel entered the valley where she’d been camped the night she met Roald, her body tingled all over with excitement. She’d missed the outdoors so much. A light
rain fell and she loved the way the droplets reflected the daylight. Nothing rivaled a sun storm, where gray clouds claimed one side of the sky and the sun dominated the other. She stared heavenward, breathing in the crisp air.

  “You like it here?” Troel rode up beside her.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “As much as you love the sea.”

  “Aye,” he said. “I prefer a longship to a longhouse any day.”

  She smiled at the captain, grateful for his company. “This is where your master found me.” She started to dismount.

  “Why are you climbing down?”

  “Surely you want to take the horse back with you?”

  “No,” he said. “I received a missive from Jarl Roald before we left. I’ve been instructed to let you keep the mare and to give you this.” He twisted around and reached inside his saddlebag. He held out a small box. “Open it after I leave.”

  She accepted the package. “Thank you for helping me, Captain. I know you were raised to distrust the Sami. But there are bad men in every clan. Some in mine and some in yours.”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “Before I depart, I must ask one question.”

  “Please do.”

  “Are you sure leaving Roald is what you really want? I’ve known the man since he took his first breath as a babe. No woman has ever touched his heart, Lady Eva. You’ve gifted him with something I haven’t seen on him in a long time.”

  She couldn’t guess what he meant. “And what is that, sir?”

  “A smile.”

  “I will miss him.” Eva tucked the box in her cloak and turned her mount about. She could sit here all day and discuss the way Roald made her feel, too. But nothing could change the inevitable. Not even the gods could challenge fate. A woman must go where the spirits called her.

  “Farewell, Captain Troel.” She urged her mare into a gallop, climbing the hill that eventually opened into the trail to her village.

  *

  “Why have you darkened my doorway, Lapplander?”

  Markkos eyed the chieftain he’d traded with last summer, knowing Jarl Magnus was his only hope of vengeance against Roald.

  “I wish to make a deal with you, sir.”

  “Speak.”

  “The kind of arrangement that requires secrecy.” Markkos looked around the busy courtyard. “If anyone overheard what I have to say, it could cost us both our lives.”

  The gray-haired man contemplated the offer. “If you waste my time, I’ll slit your throat.”

  Markkos leaned closer. “Jarl Roald is your mortal enemy. I’m in possession of some information that might help you destroy him.”

  Magnus stepped aside and invited Markkos into his house. They walked through his hall and into a smaller room where he sat down at a table.

  “How do you know about my bloodfeud with Roald’s family?”

  “Years of sitting at the market and paying attention to what passersby discuss. The Sami don’t just listen for the wind, Jarl Magnus, We, too, look for opportunities to better our lot in life.”

  “I can respect a man who enjoys coin.”

  “One of several things I think we might have in common.”

  “Tell me what you know.”

  Magnus was testing him.

  “Your sister was betrothed to Roald’s father. The marriage contract bequeathed a parcel of fertile farmland to Jarl Brandr, as long as he publicly accepted the terms of the agreement.”

  “Aye.”

  “Months after their engagement, Jarl Brandr met his future wife and abandoned your sister. But instead of doing the honorable thing and returning the property, he kept it, giving your family no legal recourse.”

  “A mistake no father in the Trondelag made again.”

  “Jarl Brandr’s trickery was never forgotten. And it seems his firstborn has resorted to similar tactics.”

  Magnus’s eyebrows shot up with interest. “Has Roald slighted your family in some way?”

  “Aye. He seduced my only sister who is engaged to another man.”

  The jarl gave him an understanding look. “A tainted bloodline—deceptive bastards.”

  “I wish to strike a blow that will leave Roald crippled. He must be taught a lesson. If I can rescue my sister, I am inclined to give her a second chance. The man she is engaged to will still marry her, if she purifies her spirit and submits to his authority over her.”

  “A fitting future for a girl who has fallen from the grace of the gods. A better life than my poor sister ever knew.”

  “What happened to her?” Markkos asked, hoping to stir the man’s rage up as much as he could.

  “Died giving birth to Brandr’s bastard daughter.”

  “And the babe?”

  “Perished a sennight later—malnourished and writhing in pain.”

  “I am sorry, milord.”

  “Aye. I wish she would have survived.”

  Jarl Magnus considered his visitor. “Sit down, Markkos. Will you drink mead?”

  “Aye.”

  The jarl poured two cups. “Where is your sister now?”

  “Likely on her back with her legs spread in Roald’s bed.”

  “Did you see her with him?”

  “Earlier today. I went to recover her and she sent me away, shaming herself and my family.”

  “Women are incapable of intelligent thought. She must be shown who has her best interest at heart.”

  Markkos tapped the whip hanging at his hip. “Fear not, milord, the moment she is in my custody, she will know the sting of the strap across her lovely back. Discipline is something she escaped because my father died when we were young. Instead of being firm with the girl, I indulged her as many brothers do. The result is heart wrenching. She’s spoiled and wild.”

  Magnus took a swig of his drink. “The gods blessed me with four sons.”

  “Sisters and daughters have their uses.”

  “Aye,” the jarl agreed. “I will help you. For the memory of my sister and for the sake of yours. What do you need?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Except for the sound of the wind, the mountainside village where Eva lived was silent. Close to dusk, she easily slipped into her mother’s cottage unnoticed. There was a centrally located fire pit with a pot of reindeer stew hanging over it, bubbling and smelling so good she wanted to taste a spoonful. One side of the hut was dedicated to her mother’s work. Shelves were packed with jars of dried herbs and medicines. A thick mat woven from river reeds covered the dirt floor. A place for patients to lie down while they were examined.

  The other side of the space contained two beds, a table, and four chairs. Meager accommodations compared to where Eva had spent the last days. She sighed as she looked about, reacquainting herself with her surroundings, surprised at how strange it felt to be back.

  Several drums hung on the wall over her cot and she traced the figures she’d painted on them. Reindeer, herdsmen, salmon jumping in the stream, trees, the sun, moon, stars, and the netherworld, where her ancestors lived after they died. All symbols of her heritage, the only thing she had left to cling to.

  “Eva?” Her mother stopped at the doorway. “Where did you come from, child?”

  “Ma…” She ran to her mother, hugged her, then dropped to her knees. “Forgive me.” Fresh tears stung her eyes, for she’d started crying the moment she parted ways with Troel and hadn’t stopped since. “I am a bad daughter. I’ve neglected you and my people. Followed my own path without your blessing. Sacrificed much to satisfy my own needs. I beg your forgiveness. Please.”

  “Self-indulgence isn’t always wrong, child. What other way exists to teach our children the difference between right and wrong?”

  Eva palmed her tears away and gazed up at her mother. “What do you mean?”

  “Remember the widow’s son? She treasured that boy so much that she let him do whatever he pleased.”

  “Yes,” Eva said. “Until he started to throw up from drinking fermented milk.”

  “The
boy didn’t have the stomach for it, but refused to give it up because he loved the way it tasted. His mother grew weary of cleaning up after him every morning. So instead of beating him, what did I advise her to do?”

  “To buy as much milk as she could carry from the market and give it to him to drink.”

  “Aye.” Her mother grinned at the memory. “The boy thought he’d outsmarted his mother, didn’t he? After the eventide meal, he sat down at the fire and called for his mother to serve him. Again and again she refilled his cup. He drank so much his stomach bloated. But still he didn’t stop. Until he awoke in the middle of the night with the worst belly pain and then started retching. It lasted for hours. And by the time I arrived, he was pale and weak.”

  “He never touched it again.”

  “Aye. Now stand up and let me have a closer look at you.”

  She slowly rose to her feet, ashamed of herself and afraid of what her mother’s reaction would be to the rumors her brother had spoken of.

  “You are not the same girl that left the village, Eva.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “I know.”

  Her mother framed her face between both her hands. “You are a woman now. A woman in love.”

  “No,” Eva denied.

  Her mother tsked. “You cannot hide from your own feelings.”

  “Maybe I don’t have the same feelings you do. Maybe I don’t have a heart.”

  “The gods give us what we need to survive, daughter. I was blessed with sharp vision. Even at my old age, I can see through your veiled words. You are in love with the jarl.”

  Eva pulled away. “You know everything?”

  “I know what the women chatter about. I know that Jarl Brandr was honored days ago, sent to Valhalla in glory. I know his son is a capable leader. And I know Markkos is a jealous liar who covets anyone’s happiness.”

  Her mother’s words shocked her. “What are you saying?” All her life Eva had waited for her mother to defend her, only to be disappointed. Whenever she had a disagreement with her siblings, her mother sided with her brothers. Until now.