Celtic Rune: Viking historical romance (Heart of the Battle Series Book 2)

by Lexy Timms

  “Have taken everything.” He cut her off, sadness washing over him in waves. “I know. I’m sorry for my part in it. Most of my men fought because if not, their wives and children back home wouldn't be fed." He looked up, swallowing the lump in his throat. "It only takes three days for starvation to kill a babe and a few more his mother."

  "Your bastard king should rot in hell," her father spat and stood, grabbing his plate and walking toward his room as if drunk.

  Linzi stood, but Erik was already around the table to catch the old man, holding him up and helping him to the bedroom. He assisted him in the bed and let him be, the white-haired fool wanting nothing to do with him, not that he blamed him much.

  Erik moved toward the back bedroom, his thoughts shifting from the situation before him to the one pressing against the inside of him. He would have to leave her soon. He had to make right what happened in the camp days before. It was his duty. If someone were willing to kill him, to take him out of the equation, then who else was vulnerable?

  He ground his fist into his other hand. Who was it? Who had the balls to murder a crowned prince? Halfdan. The commander might not have pulled the string to release the arrows, but he had a hand in it.

  Perhaps the bastard had finally pulled together the perfect plan to bring him full into power. If that were the case, then Marcus was in trouble. How far could Halfdan’s wickedness reach? Across the North Sea? Then his brother, Nathaniel, was in danger. As was his mother.

  Anger burned in his belly as he clenched his hands, his heart aching at the lack of power he held to do anything in the moment. He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring idly to his left where his clothes lay folded in a small pile, his broad axe and the intricate knife his mother gave him sitting on top of them. Linzi must have done that, returned the gift. He reached over and stroked the blade. He would surprise her by leaving it behind when he left.

  The thought of not seeing her again hurt more than the treachery of his own men. If he left to do this thing and returned, would she wait for him? Could he take her with him? No. Too many dangers out there. If something happened to her and he wasn't able to protect her, he would never forgive himself. A soft sigh left him as he stood and moved toward the kitchen, his words murmured just below his breath. "When the desires of your heart come within a few feet of you taking them, how do you not abandon everything for it?"

  Erik walked to her, sliding in next to her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned in and softly placed her hand on his thigh, his body waking at the mere touch.

  "I'm sorry about him."

  "Don't be. I would be worse if some Saxon or Scot bastard thought to be in the same vicinity as my little girl."

  Linzi shifted, turning to face him, a question on her face. "I never thought to ask. Do you have a wife waiting at home?" Her color paled slightly.

  He reached out, taking her hand and pulling it to his lips to kiss her fingertips while he watched her. "No. I speak of a hope for a little girl with long red hair and pretty white dresses in the future." He smiled as she melted before him, her heart so pure, and her desires for the same written all over her. He never should have said the words aloud. It could never happen.

  She swatted at him, her expression changing quickly.

  He caught her hand, question raising his brow.

  "You have yet to answer my question from earlier. I'll not ask again, you brute."

  He laughed and turned toward the food, gathering a few more pieces of cheese and a hunk of bread. "I’ll go to meet the Vikings in Barthmouth, the town’s just south of here, right?” When she nodded, he continued. “We’re headed there next.” He swallowed, worried his next words might send him out of this house tonight. “I am not just a soldier. I was second in command of the entire Saxon army.” He held his breath, waiting for her to hit him again. When she didn’t, he continued, his hopes building with each word. “I'm sure most of the Scots and English in Barthmouth will want to take my life, but perhaps pledging my honor to fight alongside them, they may change their mind. I can offer them my skill.”

  “They won’t go with you.” Linzi shook her head. “They’ll believe you a liar. Not a traitor.”

  He hesitated, letting the tangy flavor of the yellow cheese roll over his tongue for a moment before continuing. "Then I’ll fight on my own. Should I live to see the end of battle, I will need to return home. I’ve family that needs to know I'm alive and well. Who knows what word has been sent back to them."

  "False reports? Can word cross the North Sea that fast?”

  "We have the best ships ever made.” He heard the pride in his own voice and didn’t stop it. “If my brother thinks me dead, he’ll want revenge and will most likely do something stupid to get it." He held his tongue, worried he had said too much and she would wonder what kind of power his brother had over the soldiers here.

  "My brother would do the same."

  "Kenton?" He exhaled the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

  "Yes. He’s going to be in Barthmouth."

  Erik sat back, his mind buzzing with strategy as always.

  “I should go with you, to Barthmouth. We could find my brother. He would believe me.”

  “No!” Erik stood and wiped his mouth, starting to remove the empty plates as she joined him. He turned to find her standing just behind him, the questioning look on her face causing his heart to swell within his chest. He took the dishes from her and pulled her to him, leaning down to hold her tightly against the firmness of his chest, her softness fitting against him with perfection.

  "I think it might be wise for me to come with you." She pulled back, her arms around his neck, her eyes wide with concern.

  "No.” He imagined what her father would do to him if he took her.

  “If my brother is there I can talk to him and perhaps get him to help you. Or at least maybe form a small group of the battalion.” Her eyebrows pressed together as she thought. “I could ask my friend Martha to come and stay with my Da’ for a few days. How long would we be gone?"

  "For you no more than a day. I won’t have you anywhere near the danger.” Or my men.

  "It would only take a few hours by horse. We can take yours, but I'm sure you'll need to keep her with you. I can walk back. It shouldn't take me more than a day to walk the journey home."

  "Alone?" This plan was suddenly forming too fast. She had control over it. Something Erik wasn’t used to. “It’s too dangerous.”

  She stiffened, pulling from his grasp and putting her hands on the sensual curves of her hips. "Yes. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You haven't been here for the last nineteen years and I got along just fine."

  "Damn, you'll be the death of me, woman!" He moved past her, his fingers dragging over the flat surface of her stomach as he walked to the door that would take him outside.

  "What does that mean?" She huffed, her face flustered, her grimace causing him to smile despite the worry of tomorrow.

  He stopped and looked back at her. "It means that I cannot stop myself from hearing the sounds of your moans from earlier, the feel of you trembling against me.” He lifted his fingers to his lips and licked at them, closing his eyes and groaning. "The taste of your pleasure is undoing me from thinking straight."

  He opened his eyes, the shock on her face giving fire to his spirit and healing to his soul. "I'm going to work the field until it’s done. Tonight you won't leave my bed unless I tell you that you can. Understood?"

  She nodded, his words commanding and yet held no power. She knew she could leave whenever she wanted to and he wouldn’t stop her.

  He yearned to see her give herself wholly to him, to watch her rest in the comfort of letting him give her experience after experience of what he could do to her.

  He tugged at the front of his breeches, cursing himself as he walked back down the hill, the sun screaming high above him and promising undue repentance for his wicked ways.

  Chapter 10


  Linzi

  His words left her speechless, his straightforwardness stirring up provocative images inside her head that she didn’t even understand until earlier today.

  “Linzi!” her father called from down the hall.

  She hurried to check on him. “Yes?”

  He looked exhausted, but his face stared at her sternly. “Stay inside. Let the Viking work, but you stay in here.”

  “Da’—”

  “I’ll not rest if I know you’re out there with him.”

  She sighed. He needed to sleep and regain his strength more than she needed to watch Erik sweat in the hot sun. That image of him working created a pleasant sensation in her belly. She tried not to smile. “I’ll stay in. I promise.” She helped him lie down and brought him water.

  She then worked to clean the house the rest of the afternoon, her gratefulness at having help almost crippling her with emotion as the sun beat down on the land beyond her front door. She made sure to take Erik water a few times, his body covered in sweat, his concentration on his work and not her. She stood and watched him a little longer than she should have the last time, the man of her dreams nothing like she thought he might be.

  How would she deal with him leaving? He would stay tonight and she already knew tonight would burn in her memory forever. If her heart was the issue, it was already gone as well. She planned on staying in Barthmouth but knew telling him would only cause trouble. He would force her to stay back, as would her father. She wanted to be near him, and also find Kenton.

  Her father lay softly snoring in his room. He would be all right on his own. She would just make sure there was enough bread, cheese, and food to last him. Martha could check in on him too, maybe stay here. Linzi giggled. If Martha only knew she was hiding a Viking in her bed… what would she say?

  Forcing her mind to more important things, she considered how to travel to Barthmouth. Their horse would have to stay here with her father. She could ride with Erik. His horse could easily carry both their weight.

  She sighed as she wiped her forehead. What if the men who wanted him dead succeeded? Would she be able to return here, marry another and be happy?

  She glanced up as Erik darkened the door, a smile on his handsome mouth, his hand extended to her. She let him pull her into the open air of her father's field.

  "I finished. I wanted to show you, then I need to jump in the creek.” He too had apparently been thinking about tomorrow. “We need to talk with your friend today about coming to stay with your father.” He cocked his head to the side. “Are you serious about going with me to Barthmouth to find Kenton?"

  "I am.” She felt the heat of the sun and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment that seemed to be the calm before the storm. “I need to go into town for bread and milk today. I don't have a dairy cow, so I'll need to find something to trade for it in order to keep father fed and taken care of until I can get back."

  "Trade the knife." Erik held her hand tightly in his as he pulled her toward the fields. They stopped in front of the large garden plot, the entire area tilled and the bags of seed empty.

  "Did you finish this?" She released his hand from hers, moving around the edges of the large plot, her jaw dropped, her eyebrows high. "How? This would have taken me the rest of the week!”

  He grinned, a small wicked smile teasing his lips. "I knew we had little time. No way was I wasting my night being out here."

  "You didn't have to finish it, Erik." She said the words but was pleased he had.

  He stood in front of her, wrapping his strong arms around her, his lips kissing the tip of her nose before moving to her own mouth. His skin was warm, his muscles trembling slightly from overdoing it no doubt.

  "It was the least I could do." He kissed her again.

  Linzi leaned into him, her fingers coming up to brush by his lips as he broke the kiss and went in for another. She pulled back, laughing. "Go! Jump in the creek! You start this again and we'll never get out of here.” She didn’t mind his husky smell at all. She shook her head. “I swear you're insatiable."

  "I'm a Viking, woman! Some of the tales are true." He moved past her, popping her soft buttocks as he jogged toward the water behind the house.

  She yelped, smiling at him as he disappeared around the corner. She turned to walk up to the top of the hill, sitting down in the shade offered by the large oak tree above her mother's grave.

  She reached over and dusted off the tombstone, her eyes filling with tears. "Mum... I’m scared. I think I've started to fall in love." She snuggled in close to the stone, her knees lifting to tuck under her chin. She laid her cheek against the curve of her leg and stared at the Celtic remembrance stone. "He's beautiful and wild, like an untamed horse you might find in the forest.” She sighed, wishing the wind would whisper words from her mother. “I believe he’ll break my heart, but I can't help myself for wanting to walk to the edge with him. It’s the biggest mistake I’m ever going to make, but I don’t think I’ll regret it.”

  She let the tears spill down her cheek, wishing so badly her mother was here to confide in and give her direction.

  Erik wasn't at all what she expected, but life rarely came in waves of familiarity. It's what made living so great, so grand. She wiped her eyes a few minutes later as she took in the view of the land – her home, her country. She could see why the Vikings wanted it, who wouldn’t?

  She caught sight of Erik out of the corner of her eye. He was headed back to the house naked, his clothes in front of his crotch as he stopped, too far to really say anything unless he yelled. He didn’t see her up on the hill.

  She stood and headed toward the house, the handsome beast ahead of her strolling into the house nude as the day he was born. Her eyes drew down to the beautiful curve of his arse, his thigh muscles defined and sensual as well. His body covered in ink. His one shoulder carried some kind of Celtic design and the other a Saxon or Viking Rune type of marking. He was beautiful beyond what she could have ever imagined a man could be.

  He paused before going into the house, Linzi almost having caught up with him. He grinned mischievously when he saw her. How he could smile when tomorrow he would be on a bloody path to destruction was beyond her. "The water's cold. No showing you my front less I convince you of false reality."

  "You're the devil and you should pray for your wayward soul, Viking."

  He chortled and slipped into the house, the smile on his face almost convincing her of her accusations.

  She walked in and wiped her face quickly while his back was to her. The tears had dried, but she wanted to be sure there was no trace of sadness on her face. She moved to the cupboard, checking a few things before she headed into town.

  Erik caught her from behind, wrapping thick arms around her and pulling her back to his chest, his hair wet and dripping onto her dress. He leaned over and kissed the side of her neck, his hand sliding down the front of her dress over the thin cotton to cup one of her breasts as he growled into her ear. "As much as I don’t want this day to end, I can’t wait for the night."

  He kissed the side of her neck again and she shivered, turning to face him.

  "Oh, my!" She pressed her hands to her mouth as he moved back, Kenton's kilt fitting him perfectly. "That is the sexiest thing I've ever seen in all of me life."

  He spread his feet shoulder width apart and crossed his arms over his massive chest. "Don't push it. I’m not letting you go to town on your own.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he held his hand to stop her.

  “It will be better to look the Highlander part." He tugged at the kilt and grumbled something else.

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him he would stick out like a sore thumb. He was not local and a handsome man like him in a kilt would only draw more attention. She moved close to him when she noticed mud still caked on the side of his neck. She reached up to scrape it off with her nail and he caught her hand, biting softly into the meat of her palm. She watched him, her desire dancing
in rhythm with her heart. "You have mud on your throat. I only meant to get it off."

  "It's there for a reason. I need to cover up my rune.”

  "Rune? I thought…” She waved her hand. “Never mind.”

  "We believe that when marked as a Viking, the gods of Valhalla give you strength in battle, wits in life and stamina in bed to make many sons."

  She let her hands fall from him, her chest suffering from the sudden warmth that coveted her skin. She coughed into her hand, the smile on his lips far too precious to mention. The man knew he was skilled, no need to tell him.

  "Are you ready?" He walked toward the door, pausing a moment. "I need to get the knife to trade."

  "No, I’ll trade my mother's necklace. I'll not have your future son losing an heirloom for a pathetic piece of bread. That’s ridiculous."

  “Valhalla’s rune! You’re not giving up your mother’s items. I’ll bring my axe then.” He grinned when he saw her look of dismay. “I always wanted to learn to use a pitchfork."

  She rolled her eyes. "You won’t need a pitchfork. There’s still a large sword. It’s really heavy."

  His eyebrow rose. "Where? I haven't seen it since waking in your room. Is it with my horse?"

  "It's down in the field. After moving you, I had no intention of trying to drag it up the hill and possibly cut a leg off in the process. It’s down by the large oak tree at the bottom of the hill."

  He nodded and slipped out of the house to get it. Linzi checked on her father, who was sleeping. She shook his shoulder and when he groggily woke up she told him she was going to town for bread. He nodded and was back asleep before she left his room.

  She went to her room and hefted Erik’s large battle axe over her shoulder. She could just imagine how she looked carrying it. She slipped out into the late afternoon, the sun pulling hard and fast at the end of the day. She untied his horse, making sure her father’s horse had water and oats.

  Erik took the axe from her and affixed it to the horse. The handsome Celt lifted her up onto the beast. He readily joined her, pulling her back to press himself against her. She rode the horse like a man, refusing to keep both legs on one side. It was uncomfortable and just plain silly in her opinion. Erik didn’t seem to mind.