by Mary Morgan
“Sixteen men, one child, and a woman,” responded Thorfinn in a calm tone, and he relaxed his fist.
In another display of anger, Halvard slammed the mug against the stone wall, splintering the wood into bits that embedded themselves in his hand and the wall. As blood pooled within his palm, the man clenched his hand. “How many wolves?”
“Six, including their leader.”
Halvard stepped near him and studied him.
Thorfinn knew the man well and remained silent. He would not challenge his leader until his anger had simmered.
Malice reflected within Halvard’s eyes. “Therefore, you have seen your brother?”
“He is not my brother,” argued Thorfinn, tempering his growing ire.
The man shoved past him, leaving bloodstains on Thorfinn’s tunic. Halvard paced in front of the hearth. Giving him a scathing look, he spat out, “You are blood kin, do not forget. Are you prepared to fight him?”
The flames snapped and hissed, echoing the mood within the hall.
Clasping his hands behind his back, Thorfinn glared at the man. “As I have stated, I owe you my life. I have journeyed from Orkneyjar to Scotland with you. I seek to take back this land and any riches we can attain for our people. The time for King William’s reign is over.”
Halvard snarled and ceased his motions. “You have not answered my question.”
Why must he always challenge my loyalty?
“If I must put a blade in Magnar MacAlpin, then I shall make it a clean strike. We may have claim to the same woman who birthed us, but I owe nae loyalty to the man.”
Pointing a bloodied finger at him, Halvard shook his head. “Nae, nae. You must fight each as wolves.” Rubbing his hands together, he resumed his pacing. “Once the leader is slain, you can take your role and bring down the mighty Wolves of Clan Sutherland. By the ancient edicts, ’tis your right. They will do your bidding or enter into Valhalla.”
Thorfinn had nae desire to become a leader of anything. He regarded giving his account but held back. Halvard appeared intent on moving forward with his plans. Any who argued against him found themselves beaten, thrown into whatever dungeon they came upon, or made to swim the icy North Sea to rid them of any opinions, where most died.
“What of the woman and child?” asked Thorfinn.
Halvard shrugged. “I will take the woman as my wife, and you can kill the child. Her escape has hindered our plans.”
Wary of this plan to end a child’s life, Thorfinn offered another solution. “Why not make him a thrall?”
Halvard dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “He poses a threat. His life is mine to end.”
“Nae,” a low voice uttered from a corner of the hall. Stepping out of the shadows, the Seer came forth. He fingered the strand of eagle talons around his neck as he strode toward Halvard. “You shall not end the life of Magnar MacAlpin, nor take the woman as your wife, or slay the boy.”
Halvard fisted his hands on his hips. “Explain, Ketil!”
The Seer closed his eyes. “If you continue on this reckless path, death will come to many, including you.”
“You have seen a vision? A great battle to be fought here?” Halvard’s tone was guarded.
Ketil opened his eyes. “A murky one. Filled with violence and power.”
“Power?” echoed Thorfinn, unclasping his hands, curious to learn more.
The Seer tilted his head to the side and lifted his gnarled finger at Thorfinn. “They bring an ancient power with them.” He paused and closed his eyes again. “We are not prepared. We must flee Steinn, and then wait for the Gods to show us a plan.”
“Can you not reveal more, Ketil?” demanded Halvard, leaning against the table.
“Do you seek to thwart the Gods’ plans?” snapped Ketil, opening his eyes. He reached for the leather pouch secured at his waist and tossed the item onto the table. “If you can read the runes, then go forth with your plan.”
Halvard gave him a horrified expression and pushed away from the table. “I do not wish to offend the Gods.”
“Then refrain from questioning me further. Order your men to make ready.” Brushing past Thorfinn, the Seer left as quietly as he entered.
Unease settled within Thorfinn. The Seer had spoken to him directly. His subtle message was unclear, though. What ancient power? As part wolf, he already possessed many magical qualities. Thankfully, his leader remained unaware of the Seer’s underlying message to Thorfinn.
Your perception is addled from too much drink, Halvard.
If not bound by honor and loyalty to his leader, Thorfinn would be tempted to remove the head from the man’s shoulders in one blow. His reckless actions caused undue harm to many of their men after the untimely death of Thomas Gunn. His leader often times presented an unstable thought, along with his actions.
“You are quiet, Thorfinn,” observed Halvard, moving past him. He snatched a cloth off the table and bound his hand to stanch the flow of blood.
“Considering the Seer’s words.” In truth, he had no desire to lie to his leader.
The man grunted a curse and cast a steely look around the hall. “Pity he did not offer his insight earlier, aye?”
Reaching for the pouch of runes, Thorfinn considered his reply. Depends on which Gods the Seer favors. He slid a glance at Halvard. “Even so, who are we to question a Seer?”
The man’s shoulders sagged in resignation. “Aye, we must follow his sage wisdom. Our plans were thwarted long ago when two were allowed to escape.”
They fled due to your hasty decision to slay the chieftain in front of too many witnesses. You should have listened to me.
“Where shall I tell the men to retreat to?” asked Thorfinn in an attempt to sway the conversation. If not, he’d be forced to listen to the endless rants spouting forth from his leader.
Blood seeped through the cloth as Halvard continued to squeeze his hand into a fist. “Retreat?” Spittle flew from his mouth. “Are we meek rats to scurry away from the onslaught of wolves?” Pounding his fist against his chest, he shouted, “Nae! The might of the Gods favors us! Loki will show us another way to destroy this pack of animals. They should all cease to exist.”
Fury surfaced within Thorfinn. His wolf growled in contempt over the man’s choice of words and urged him to take vengeance. Clenching his jaw, he fought the desire to shift. With great effort he forced his wolf to withdraw.
Thorfinn dared to take a step toward the man. “Might I remind you, I am a wolf.”
Wariness passed briefly over the man’s features, yet he made no move to step away. “A wolf that is loyal and obedient to me.”
A low warning growl escaped from Thorfinn. “Loyal to you, aye. Obedient to the Gods!”
The man took a step back. “Are you challenging me?”
Thorfinn laughed bitterly.
The color drained from Halvard’s face, and he placed a hand on the dirk at his side. “You find humor in my words? You, who I have saved from bondage on Orkneyjar, dare to mock me?”
Thorfinn relented. This constant arguing of words had no place here. “Forgive me. Your words inflamed my wolf.”
“Then your wolf should understand the enemy and my meaning.” Halvard dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Go prepare the men and horses.”
Giving the man a curt nod, Thorfinn steadily made his way out of the hall.
“One more order,” added Halvard.
Halting his steps, he glanced over his shoulder.
“If I ever see your eyes shift to those of the wolf again, I will have my men bind you to a stake, and I will personally burn them out of your head,” warned Halvard in a fierce tone that did not bode well for Thorfinn.
Without acknowledging the man, Thorfinn swiftly departed the hall.
Chapter Fifteen
In an effort to calm the growing restlessness of his wolf, Magnar dismounted from his horse and bent down on one knee near the base of a hill. Damp, cool morning air refreshed his body. Placing
his palm on the soft ground, he let the soothing power of the land ease the animal. Many weeks had passed without allowing the wolf to wander across any landscape. With all that had occurred, he sensed the growing displeasure of the animal.
Seek the moist earth, my friend. Find comfort in the scent of the land and richness of the soil.
Magnar brought a fistful of dirt to his face. Inhaling deeply, he sought to ease the anguish within his beast.
Settle into the realm of Asgard, you who were created from magic with Odin’s approval. Temper the disquiet, especially as we prepare for battle.
His wolf ceased his pacing.
He tossed the dirt outward and stood. Magnar’s gaze sought and found the path leading up the side of the hill. Making quick strides over the rocky incline, he observed the dawn of a new day.
When the first glow of sunlight creased the morning sky, he placed a fist over his heart. “Protect my body with your shield and hammer, mighty Thor. Let my enemies’ death by my hand be swift and just. All Father, if any of my men are taken by death’s hand, permit them to enter into the Hall of Valhalla. They are all honorable warriors.”
He scanned the landscape. Many hours had passed since Gunnar and Ivar had departed after midnight to reach Steinn. Did he anticipate their swift return with good news to proclaim? Nae. Halvard had nae intention of surrendering the keep and lands. The battle was forthcoming, and he prayed for a swift resolve.
Magnar’s thoughts drifted to his wife. “I may not have bedded you, Elspeth, but you are mine.” His heart hammered with a fierce need to protect her. Once again, his night had been filled with torment. Each hour she spent curled up against him caused him agony.
He clenched his fist. The struggle to serve his king and guard his wife grew with each passing hour. You must maintain your focus.
Unable to dwell on Elspeth for too long, fearing he’d abandon his men—if it came to a battle, and seek to guard her himself. Magnar sought out a prayer. Goddess Freyja, if war comes to my wife and I cannot be by her side, I pray you protect her with your shield and cloak. Let the falcon be a warning to her to be on guard for any foe.
The sun rose higher in the sky, spreading its light across the land below. Just beyond the valley stood the massive castle shrouded by dense trees. With a heavy sigh, he turned to leave and make ready with his men.
A faint tremor of awareness alerted him of the oncoming wolves. He knew the scent of his men, but Magnar took cover behind a thick pine tree and waited. The riders moved steadily forward, and he looked beyond them. Once he made certain no one followed his men, he emerged forth.
He allowed his taut stance to relax just a bit, but Magnar itched to take hold of his axe.
When the laughter and unruly bantering of Gunnar and Ivar reached his hearing, Magnar rested his hands on his hips. Neither was prone to outbursts, especially before a battle. Confused over the mirth, he sought to contain his fury.
Unless his men were overjoyed for another reason?
As they approached, Magnar stepped back to grant them entrance within the protection of the trees.
Elation covered their features. Gunnar dismounted first and drew near him.
“What news?” Magnar demanded.
“The castle and grounds are vacant of Halvard and his men,” replied Gunnar. “We found a few servants hiding in the cellar. Many of Steinn’s clan were killed by Halvard or fled to the hills, taking as many of the children who had survived with them. Those who were forced to become thralls were treated dreadfully. One of the servants witnessed the Northmen and their leader’s departure to the north yesterday morn.”
“Why would they leave?” Magnar glanced over their shoulders, half expecting the enemy to be out there.
Ivar shrugged and spat on the ground. “Pity. I yearned for a good fight.”
Gunnar gave the man an annoyed look. “They departed the keep, realizing there was nothing to gain by staying. The fear of King William took hold. Can you not take this as a blessing?”
“From Odin, aye!”
“Enough!” ordered Magnar and stepped around them. Rubbing a hand over his chin, he pondered this news. Did the threat of so many wolves cause Halvard to run in fear? Even so, he could ill afford to let his guard down. Steinn was now his to take control of, but he would ensure its safety from future enemies as well.
An easy victory, and I thank you, Thor.
Magnar went and clamped a hand on each man’s shoulder. “Return to Steinn and prepare for our appearance. Have the servants find the others and let them know this joyous news. Furthermore, continue to be on guard. I have nae desire to step into a trap.”
Releasing his hold, he added, “We shall arrive soon.”
Both gave a curt nod.
As soon as they departed, Magnar hastily returned to his horse. His shoulders eased as he urged his mount onward along the path to the others.
Bjorn was the first to approach him with some of the king’s men not far behind. “They have returned? You have heard news?” The man’s question was laced with worry as he clutched his sword.
Magnar swiftly dismounted and gave a gentle pat to his horse. “There will be nae battle. They have fled north from Steinn.”
The man sheathed his sword. “Loki’s balls! Wished I could have skewered one of the vermin.”
“Exactly what Ivar said,” admitted Magnar, searching for Elspeth among the group of men. “Another time, perchance. For now, we claim victory. Where is Steinar?”
“Behind you,” announced the man, coming forth. “Heard everything. Sharpened my blade this morn in anticipation of drenching the steel with their blood.” Lifting his long blade to the light, he added, “’Tis a shame.”
Out of all the wolves in the brotherhood, Steinar proved to be the most silent—in words and movement, making him an elite mercenary for the king. His cunning skills outmatched all, including Magnar’s. If a battle had been fought, he’d have sent Steinar in the lead.
“Take the news to King William. Tell him Steinn Castle is in our control. Until I am confident there is not a threat of the enemy returning, I will keep all the men secured at Steinn. I will nae take this man lightly again.”
Steinar shifted his stance. “And after I deliver the message?”
“Return to Steinn. I intend on maintaining control surrounding the keep.”
“Good plan,” acknowledged Steinar and slipped away.
Scanning the area once again, Magnar was determined to give the good news to Elspeth. Yet Rorik hailed him from across the trees with Erik following closely behind him. He let out a frustrated sigh.
“’Tis true?” Rorik continued to maintain his grip on his blade.
“Aye. Confirmed by Gunnar and Ivar. They have returned to assist the others who are left.”
Erik narrowed his eyes in thought. “I was ready for the battle—to take down those who killed my father.”
Magnar crouched down next to the lad. “Your orders were to protect my wife. Forsooth, the battle would have been fought far away from you and your aunt.”
The young chieftain swallowed visibly. He leaned near him. “You ken your wife would have disobeyed your order to stay hidden.”
By the hounds! Magnar wanted to shout. Instead, he let his inner wolf growl his displeasure.
Erik’s face paled, and he took a step back.
“When I give an order, all must obey. Do you ken my meaning, Erik?”
Pounding his chest with his fist, Erik confessed, “If I had to, I would have seen her injured to keep her safe.”
“A feat I would have liked to have witnessed, Nephew.”
Magnar stood slowly, noting the fury within the depths of Elspeth’s eyes. “Leave, Rorik, and take the young chieftain with you,” he ordered.
Rorik grabbed Erik by the tunic and pushed him forward.
Magnar’s wife stood rooted to the ground with her arms crossed over her ample breasts.
With his fury barely contained, Magnar remained in hi
s position for fear he’d take her over his knee for a proper punishment. Did he not explain to Elspeth what would happen during a battle? He thought she understood. Clearly not only was his wife mocking him, but she gave no regard to his beast. He clenched and then slowly unclenched his hand.
“Does Erik speak truthfully? Were you planning on following us to Steinn?” His tone held a note of warning.
She lifted her chin. “Aye,” she challenged. “But I had only planned—”
He waved his hand in dismissal. “Nae! My orders were precise, Elspeth!” He dared to take a step forward. “And what about Rorik? Did you not consider him in your plot?”
When she averted her gaze from his glare, Magnar thought he understood her plan. “Either harm would befall Rorik or you sought to appease him with your plan.”
She snorted. “Neither. Escape from your guard was the plan.” Pointing a finger at him, she added, “Only to the top of the hill. I couldn’t endure not being able to witness anything. Not knowing if something happened…to you.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. Her concern for him lessened some of the anger. Did Elspeth care for him? Magnar banished the thought. “Nevertheless, you engaged your nephew, your chieftain. Even the stench of a battle not fought was on his skin—eager for the kill. You could have put him in danger.”
Elspeth dropped her hands by her sides. “Waiting is the hardest, Magnar.” She peered around him. “I shall go take my place with Erik and Rorik. Perchance in time you will forgive my inclination for disobedience.”
Apparently, his wife was the last not to hear the good news. “Nae battle shall be fought,” he declared.
Her mouth gaped open and then snapped shut. “What are you saying?”
“Halvard and his men have fled Steinn. Gunnar and Ivar seek to bring back the others who escaped into the hills.”
On a choked sob, she lunged at Magnar and wrapped her arms around his neck. Stunned by her reaction to his news, he was unable to offer her any words of comfort. Instead, he allowed her to weep her tears as he brought his arms around her body.
After several moments, she released her hold. “Sorry,” she mumbled against his chest.
