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

by Lexy Timms

  The boy tossed his machete, reaching for the reins of Erik's horse and moving him to the edge of the large camp. Men stared and picked up their weapons, but fortunately did not attack. The boy stopped the horse and ran up to talk with a tall brunette-haired man, his back to them.

  "Kenton," Linzi whispered and slipped from the horse, Erik reaching to stop her, but she pulled from him and ran toward her brother. "Kenton!"

  He turned as shock registered on his strong features. Luke had been right about one thing – war fit Kenton very well. He reached down and scooped her up, hugging her tightly and turning her around once. "What the hell are you doing here? Where is Da'? Is he hurt? Are you hurt?" Kenton patted her arms and legs, a small crowd gathering around them as Erik slipped from the horse and moved in beside her, his hand taking hers as he pulled her back.

  Swords pulled from sheaths at his action.

  "Kenton, this is Erik. Erik, this is my brother, Kenton." She looked toward her brother, the look on his face menacing, much the same as Erik’s.

  "Linzi, move back." Kenton pointed his sword at Erik. He nodded at the man standing beside him. "Take my sister. She doesn't need to see this."

  Erik stood tall, his arms at his sides not reaching for his axe or sword as Linzi thought he would. “Touch Linzi,” he warned the man moving toward them, “and I’ll kill every one of you standing around me. Including her brother.”

  The man hesitated and looked at Kenton for direction.

  Erik stepped forward, swords moving closer to him as the men moved around Kenton to protect him. "I mean you no harm, boy. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to your cause and to step up and take the reins in the battle tomorrow."

  Kenton scoffed. "You want to lead? A traitor of a Viking thinks he can win the battle?” He shook his head and spat on the ground. “We don't need your help. We've given up our lives to fight you bastards. What makes you think we’d just open our arms and welcome you to our side? Have you gone mad?" Kenton laughed. “Take him.” He motioned to his men.

  Linzi jumped in front of Erik. "Kenton, no. He is who he says. You need him on our side." She moved toward her brother to reason with him.

  Kenton pointed his sword at her heart. “What poison has he filled your mind with?”

  Erik moved far too quickly for her to take notice, Kenton's sword on the ground and Erik's to her brother’s throat, his teeth clenched, his beautiful blue eyes wild. "If you strike her, I will gut you and every man in this camp. I am not just any Viking, but was their commander. I want revenge on them more than you can fathom in your innocence. Take my offer or I will be forced to draw a line in the grass and kill all who do not join me."

  Kenton pushed against the edge of Erik’s blade, blood running down his neck. It was a scrape, but he didn’t retreat. "How in the hell do you expect us to trust you? Your men have raped, murdered women and children and feasted on the dead of our brothers south of here."

  "I have never killed a woman or a child and you, young man, have no choice." Erik glanced at Linzi before glaring back at her brother. “You will call me brother when this is over, mark my words.” He stepped back and sheathed his sword, his left hand resting on the blade his mother had carved for him.

  "Take your knife from him now or put one against me too." Linzi moved forward, pushing in between her brother and her lover. Erik pulled back, his eyes shifting to her and then to Kenton. “You kill him, then you must also take a blade to me as well.”

  Erik pulled her to him, his face a mask of terror.

  Kenton stared at the two of them long and hard. He shook his head. “Come,” he said and nodded his head. “To my tent, so we may speak privately.” The soldiers around them remained where they stood.

  Linzi reached for Erik’s hand, unaccustomed to being afraid of her brother. They followed him into a nearby tent where two men stood guard outside.

  “Stay here,” he told the guards.

  Linzi and Erik stepped into the nearly barren tent. Erik glanced around and frowned, he apparently expected something more inside the barely furnished lodgings of the commander.

  Kenton grabbed a mug off the makeshift writing table and drank from it. He wiped his bloody neck with his sleeve. “You’re nothing but a ghost, a rumor of death, and yet here you stand. How?"

  "Someone in my own camp wanted me gone. The only reason I'm alive is because your sister saved me."

  Kenton's eyes shifted to her.

  She simply nodded, the emotion too thick in the air before her.

  "How’s Da’, Linzi?"

  "Well. He fell ill to the fever, but I nursed him back to health, while taking care of Erik."

  Her brother moved toward her, pulling her into a hug as she felt Erik stiffen beside her. He kissed the top of her head, pulling her chin to look at him. "This man here... do you trust him?”

  "Yes, without a shadow of a doubt."

  Kenton nodded and released her. He snapped his fingers and one of the guards stepped inside the tent, a male with a mop of red hair. "Pull another tent together for my sister and show her to it. I don't want her out when the storm starts."

  Erik moved in beside her. "She stays with me."

  “No, she doesn’t.” Kenton did not hesitate in his response.

  “She does. I won’t let Linzi out of my sight. She’s staying in my tent or I in hers, however you want to look at it.”

  Kenton shook his head. “You say you want to fight with us. What are you going to do tomorrow? Take her with you on your horse? She stays here, at camp. Beside my tent.”

  “She will remain here tomorrow. Or, I believe we both can agree on this, she goes back to your farm.” Erik moved to the large table where pewter figures were set up, like toys of a pretend battle. “We need to talk tactics for tomorrow.”

  "We have a strategy," Kenton responded, his chest puffing out a bit.

  Erik glanced over the table. "It's about to change."

  Chapter 16

  Erik

  After ensuring that Linzi had something to eat and a place to lie her head down, Erik walked back through the camp, every eye on him. He was sure a fight would ensue at some point during the evening, which was fine by him. He wanted to prove his skills and test his body’s strength. If someone had to die for him to do it, it wouldn't bother him at all. They should be leery and someone should stand up to take his life.

  The boy had been right in his anger. Erik was a Viking and killing was at the core of all they did. Ruination had become his legacy, but change was in the air.

  He found Kenton leaning over a large wooden table, the map he had seen earlier in front of Kenton old and torn in places.

  "Show me where you think they’ll be attacking from." Erik stopped beside him, speaking loudly and gaining the attention of others standing around the table.

  Kenton frowned, apparently unsure if he should trust the tall, massive foreigner. He sighed. "They’ll come up through the Vadula Valley. Your style is to fight on an open battlefield."

  "Noted, but you're wrong. Under my command, they would have been straightforward and marched right out to fight fair. Halfdan doesn’t play fair. He hasn't a truthful bone in his body. Where I might be a Viking, he’s a demon with no heart."

  "Is it true that you're Prince Erik of Denmark?" An older male moved toward him, his fingers rubbing his face as if trying to get something off his cheek.

  "Why does it matter?" Erik looked up, his hands pressed to the table before him.

  "It matters quite a bit. If we take you out there as a ghost who knows a few men, that's one thing. If we let you lead us as the King of Denmark that is quite another."

  "It no longer matters. I am who I am. Tomorrow I am a man on the battlefield, as vulnerable to death as you or any other standing here." He looked back down at the map and studied it, wishing he had one of these maps while fighting for the other side. "Kenton is right; they will bring a large group out through the Valley, but it’ll be a third of the men, the rest will be sp
lit in half and push from the sides when you least expect it, when you think you are gaining ground." Erik pointed on the map to add to his explanation.

  "About the time we think we've won." Kenton stood up, rolling his shoulders. "Take heed tonight, Viking. The men in the camp will be very leery about you being here. I have a large tent. You and Linzi will eat with me, and then I'll put a man outside of your tent. I'll not have anything happen to my sister because of you."

  "No man will stand outside of my tent. I will protect what is mine. You and your men prepare for the hardest battle of your lives. Saxons don't give two shits about life or liberty. Coinage, sex, power and the honor of killing in battle are their lusts. You are standing between them and several of those desires."

  Kenton began to pace. "What are your thoughts for our strategy?” He was obviously beginning to lean on Erik, that or he was beyond desperate to save his men and their lands. “We were originally going to push along the sides, having our archers take out as many of them as possible."

  Erik sat down on a large tree stump near the table. "You don’t trust me, but if you know what is right, and what will save your men, let me do this: I’ll ride out like a ghost and scare all those on the front line. With fear and emotions high, you will be able to cripple them much faster. Your plan will work fine, but begin with mine."

  Kenton stopped pacing and looked over the map. “You ride out to tell them our numbers and we are left as dead men." His lips pressed hard into a thin line. “I love my sister, but I promise you this. You cannot have her and them. You play us the fool and I’ll have her heart cut out and fed to the wild dogs.”

  Erik’s own heart stuttered at the crazed words. He knew Kenton was bluffing but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure. The man was threatening to protect his people. He had to respect and honor that. “Let me ride out from the side. They will not know if I am with you or against you.”

  “And then you think these men will come to the center to speak amongst the leaders?"

  "I do. They love to slaughter under the false pretense of peace." Erik looked around the faces in the room, trying to memorize each one so he would not kill them on the battlefield.

  "And you’ve done this before? Slaughtered under false pretense?" an older man asked.

  "Every time we fight." He stood and stretched. "I'm going to find Linzi. Then something to eat. No man outside my tent and we do this my way tomorrow."

  Kenton came and stood close to him, his words only for Erik to hear. "Careful Erik, lest your eyes betray you. My sister appears soft and young, but she is made of steel, her character forged in loss, her heart constructed in perseverance." He straightened and raised his voice. “You’ll eat here in this tent. I’ll finish with my men. You get Linzi and bring her here.”

  Erik bit back a remark he only knew would cause trouble. He wasn’t used to being ordered around. He could see where Linzi got it from. He nodded and left the tent to find her.

  Dinner with Kenton was less than pleasant, Erik keeping to himself as Linzi tried to make conversation between the three of them. He took his leave after finishing his meal, his mind screaming for air, his body demanding his woman beneath him.

  "Can I trust you to personally bring your sister to her tent when you are finished talking? I have a sword and axe that need sharpening.”

  Kenton gestured with his hand, barely acknowledging him. It drove Erik mad but he again kept his response to himself.

  He would covet the look on the faces of his men tomorrow. Halfdan would probably shite himself when he saw Erik. The man wouldn’t ride out first, he would send his second in command, Marcus. What would his cousin think when he saw him? Would he open his arms or join him in stopping the advancement. If indeed the rumor was true that Nathaniel was murdered, it meant Erik was the rightful king. Nathaniel and all the men, Halfdan included, would have to bow down before him.

  If they believed it was him, and not a ghost from Valhalla come to take revenge on their souls. They would be stunned into silence, fear and trepidation rising in their bellies like the great storm that sat above his head. He walked slowly toward the tent they had granted him, grateful for Linzi being with him lest he sleep on the ground somewhere. The men did not know who stood among them, and he was fine with that. Respect was to be. All they knew of him left him at a loss before them, which was fine.

  He needed to push his Viking brothers back and then go home to his mother. Her despair was his own for a moment, his eyes closing tightly as he stopped at the opening of the tent and let out a long breath. He needed to get word to her, but he couldn't trust anyone anymore. Would they attack her? Kill her as well and be done with his entire line?

  "Shit," he growled, walking into the tent and pulling at his clothes. He was without recourse against them fully until his mother was safe. He sharpened his sword and axe with the stone left in his room, his mind crazed with worry and the pre-night battle rituals he tended to follow.

  Finished, he stripped naked and slipped onto the small cot, the bed not big enough for two people. He would have to sleep on his side, Linzi molded around the front of him. He smiled at the thought, the remembrance of her beautiful body against his offering him a thought to take his mind away from battle. She would be his heart, his peace, his everything.

  The tent opened as she stepped in, saying good night to her brother. The tent flap closed and she stopped to look at him. Would she always look so innocent, so perfectly in love with him? He leaned on his elbow, rising up to see her as she moved to light a small candle as the day turned into night before them. A loud crash of thunder shot the ground, the lightning lighting up the night over the tent.

  He watched her closely, wanting to spout a million words of poetry at her and yet it just wasn't his style. She turned toward him, pulled her dress over her head as the lightning illuminated the room, his breath catching in his chest as her body stood bare before him.

  "Thank you for talking with my brother," she whispered in the dark, the sound of her moving toward him causing his heart to race. “I can’t believe you are going to fight with our men.”

  He reached up as she moved onto the bed, ignoring her comments, only focusing on her. “A night without you in my arms would feel like hell. After last night, I never want you away from me.” He buried his head in her thick hair. “What have you done to me, woman?”

  She let him hold her before speaking quietly. "Promise me you’ll protect Kenton. He's not a warrior, Erik. He is a farmer, like me."

  He didn’t want to explain to her that her brother had changed. War did that to a man. He was a leader now. How he fared in battle would be shown tomorrow. "I will protect him with my life." He took her in his arms, pulling her down. "It's a small cot, so lay on top of me for a while and let me feel you. We can hold one another after I've had my fill of you."

  "Yes," her soft whisper wrapped around him, tugging at desire and burning his need to be buried deep inside of her. He helped her into the bed, lying down and coveting the feeling of her body pressed to the top of his, her long hair splayed across his chest and arm. He rubbed her back softly, the subtle scrape of her nipple against his upper stomach causing him to groan. She looked up, the storm giving him another view of her.

  "I love you." She moved up his body, sitting up and straddling waist, his hands sliding slowly up the thin column of her ribs and cupping her breasts as he kneaded them.

  The sincerity of those three little words shocked him straight through his core. He knew he felt the same but she held a power over him that he would never understand. He grew hard. "I love you too, lass.” He adored calling her the Scottish term, it felt so foreign on his tongue. “Tomorrow you go back to your father and when this damn thing is done, I’ll come to collect you forever." He tried to concentrate on his words, not the delicious pressure of her bare bottom against his erection.

  "You promise?" Her voice was thick with desire, the enchanting smell of her driving him mad. She rolled her hips, his ha
nds moving down to help her with a rhythm of his choosing. He pulled her up slightly, shifting his hips to align himself with her.

  "When you have me at the cusp like this, I’ll promise you anything." He pulled her down carefully, her groan leaving his mind foggy, his body throbbing. He slowly pulled at her hips as she made love to him, her sensual dance the most enticing thing he'd laid eyes on. He pawed at her, rocking against her as she picked up speed in order to bring her faster to ecstasy.

  "Fookin’ hell," she whispered and quickly covered her mouth, her eyes wide from the rough words she’d just said.

  Erik sat up, grabbing the back of her hair with one hand, his other hand wrapping around the curve of her ass as he controlled her completely, his pants in line with the slamming of her tight body against his.

  "That's it, lass. Take it. Whatever you need from me, demand it of me, Linzi," he whispered against her neck, the rain pelting the tent and offering coverage for her long groans. She jerked hard against him, Erik taking full advantage of her surrender to him as he moved his hands to her hips, falling back on the bed and elevating his crotch, lifting her up and pressing down as quickly as he could manage it.

  The scene before him left him panting, his own stomach tight as he hovered on the edge of losing it. His mind screaming for him to slow and enjoy the girl, his body demanding nothing less than the frenzy he was creating.

  She leaned forward, swatting at his hands as he moved them from her and lifted them above his head. "I'm so close. Finish me."

  "Say please," she whispered, the press of her hands on his chest leaving him no option as her words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He whispered as his voice left him, air running from his hungry desires.

  "Please...” he begged. “Valhalla be damned, please."

  She lifted her hips, her breasts just before him as she worked hard and fast, the sound of her efforts pressing down his veins like the darkest wine. He closed his eyes, arching his back and releasing himself, his cry guttural and raspy. He reached for her hips, stilling her as he rocked back and forth, letting her drain from him everything he had to offer.