Magnar (The Wolves of Clan Sutherland Book 1)

by Mary Morgan

  Giving one last look at his men, he uttered softly, “For Elspeth and Erik.”

  Magnar dropped to the ground and inhaled. He dug his fists onto the soft earth. On the exhale, he shifted into his wolf.

  The wolf’s cry of displeasure echoed all around him, yearning to rip the heart from those who had taken Elspeth. He lifted his head, sniffing the air and his surroundings. Turning north, he lowered his head, and his lips drew back on a snarl. Without waiting for the others, he sprinted forward through the trees and out into the open landscape.

  The scenery blurred as Elspeth’s scent spurred him faster. The others swiftly joined him, and they moved as one, beginning their treacherous ascent up the hill. Mud, leaves, and rocks flew out from under them, each wolf doing their utmost not to crash to the bottom. His wolf narrowly missed a boulder that had dislodged from the speed of their climb. Raw determination kept him fighting and clawing to reach the top. With victory almost in sight, his front paws landed on a patch of small rocks and mud. He fought for several moments to find a solid patch of stone to avoid falling into death’s embrace below. Lunging forward, he ran the remainder of the way to the top.

  When the rest of his men successfully reached the crest, he paced to the edge. One by one, all the wolves padded to his side. He shook his body, ready for the battle that was coming. Indifferent to any who heard him, he lifted his head and howled savagely.

  ****

  Thorfinn regarded both men with intent. This was not the battle he foresaw between Halvard and the Seer. Granted, Ketil had not been content with a few of Halvard’s decisions. Yet this latest was now a concern for Thorfinn. Halvard judged he had been betrayed. And he was correct. The Seer had another purpose—one Thorfinn found he could not follow or agree upon.

  Secrets, lies, power, and plans that have gone awry. We should never have returned here.

  “Tell me again about the blue stone of Odin?” Halvard’s laugh was bitter. “Now that we have killed one of the men who have guarded the caves, you owe me your account.”

  Halvard’s men surrounded them—each holding a hand on their weapons at their sides.

  Ketil narrowed his eyes. “Why must I repeat myself to you? Did you not understand?”

  Halvard took a step near the man. “If I had not witnessed your arrival, you would have gone on ahead to the caves without me. You crave the power for yourself, Ketil. I only wanted to hear you spout your lies before I rip your tongue from your mouth.”

  “’Tis not for me,” argued Ketil quietly, flicking the edge of his dirk with his thumb. “And I would be careful of the words you speak this day.”

  Thorfinn realized the danger he now faced, and he clenched his hand.

  Halvard slowly turned toward him. “You!” He spat on the ground in front of Thorfinn. “I should have known you would have betrayed me, wolf!”

  “How have I betrayed you?” challenged Thorfinn, doing his best not to kill the man where he stood.

  “Will you take the stone from her?” demanded Halvard, pointing to the woman tied to the trunk of a tree.

  He looked beyond the man and at Elspeth. She regarded him with hatred, even in her untidy and soiled appearance. Furthermore, the lad kept his fixed gaze on him as well, while he sat beside her. Not only have I betrayed these men but incurred the anger of your husband. Death will take one of us.

  Halvard and Ketil were arguing for two separate plans. Their joined cause to wrest free part of Scotland was simply a deception for another gain of power. And each was determined to seek it for themselves.

  Uncertainty no longer plagued Thorfinn. There was only one decision he could confess to. “I do not desire to claim the stone. To suffer the wrath of Odin is not what I seek.”

  Ketil sneered at him and shoved him aside. “You are nothing but a traitor.” He made his way toward Elspeth.

  Halvard gave him a look of contempt. “It appears you have made many enemies today, wolf.” He dared to lean near Thorfinn. “You should have alerted me to the Seer’s plan.”

  “And what if I had?” asked Thorfinn with malice. “Would you slay him? The Seer? You ken what our people would do to you. They will strip all the skin and flesh from your bones while your heart continues to beat. You have forgotten honor.”

  The man’s face transformed to one of horror, and he took a step back. “Not if they knew their Seer was foolish enough to go against the Gods and become one himself. ’Tis part of what he craves.”

  Thorfinn frowned in confusion. “What are you not saying?”

  Elspeth’s scream tore them away from their conversation. Ketil was bent over the lad with a blade to his throat.

  His decision now made, Thorfinn stormed over to Ketil. He dared to grasp the Seer’s wrist and removed it away from the lad’s throat. “Are you mad? Leave him!”

  “You shall regret this moment, Thorfinn! Remember my words well.” Ketil stood and sliced through Elspeth’s bindings. He pulled her across the clearing, heading for the caves.

  “What are you doing?” asked Halvard, stalking after the Seer.

  In one swift move, the Seer shoved the woman to the ground and thrust his dirk into Halvard’s heart. The man stumbled back in shock. Blood oozed forth from his lips and trickled down his chin as he tried in a feeble attempt to remove the blade from his chest. On a guttural curse, the man pitched forward onto the ground.

  Halvard’s men advanced on Ketil, but the man held a hand up in warning to stay their movements. “Your leader had become weak. He had a sickness in the mind. Some of you have confessed witnessing this on our travels. Now is the time to choose wisely. Will you stand with me and the God Loki? Or shall I utter the words to curse you and your souls forever? Who will join me on this new path? If you are worthy, take up your weapons and guard the entrance to the caves.”

  The men all cast suspicious looks at each other.

  The wolf within Thorfinn clawed to be released. He could smell the men’s fear seeping forth from their skin.

  Without waiting for their response, Ketil rolled the dead body of Halvard onto his back with his booted foot. Swiftly, he removed the dirk from the man’s body and held the bloody blade outward. “Well? What is your answer?” His voice rang sharp, and his stare was penetrating.

  They were all mad, and Thorfinn wanted no part of this deceiving gain for power. He watched as each made a solemn vow to follow the Seer on his venture.

  When Ketil’s gaze landed on him, he battled his next decision—one Thorfinn never thought to take. He inhaled sharply. The Seer would never trust him, even if he proclaimed his vow to follow. He had to thwart the man’s quest and rid himself of this madness.

  He tempered the beast within and stared at the Seer. “Take the blue stone of Odin.”

  A sinister smile curved the mouth of the man. “With a powerful wolf at my side, we can rule them all. Attend to me in the caves after you slit the boy’s throat.”

  Thorfinn gave a curt nod and removed his sword from the sheath on his back.

  Ketil turned and yanked Elspeth’s braid, tugging her to a standing position.

  The woman’s cry of anguish surrounded Thorfinn, but there was nothing he could do at the moment. He watched them depart.

  When the last man faded from his sight, he turned and approached the lad. Crouching down in front of him, he spoke quietly. “You are a brave chieftain, Erik.”

  The lad jutted out his chin. “Give me a sword before death takes me. ’Tis my honor as a warrior. As it should have been for my father.”

  He scratched the side of his face. “Today is not your day to die, young chieftain.”

  Startled, Erik asked, “But you told that evil man you would—”

  “If I set you free, are you strong enough to bring the others here?” interrupted Thorfinn, angry at the mention of Thomas Gunn. The man’s death still haunted him.

  The lad’s eyes widened as he looked around. “Aye, but what others?”

  Thorfinn slashed at the bindings holdin
g Erik firmly against the trunk of the tree. He stood and pointed outward. “Steadily make your way in this direction. There you will come upon the Sutherland wolves.”

  Erik managed to stand and rubbed a hand over his nose. “You must save my aunt,” he ordered.

  Fisting his hand on his hip, Thorfinn shook his head. “One wolf cannot save her, but many can stop him.” He nudged him forward. “Go quickly.”

  Erik started forward and then paused. “Why not join them—the wolves?”

  Thorfinn laughed wearily. “Because my home is here, and Magnar belongs to Scotland. Furthermore, since I brought harm to his wife, he shall seek revenge. ’Tis his right.”

  “I will speak to Magnar about this honor you have done for me,” affirmed Erik and darted into the trees.

  He raked a hand through his hair. “Nae matter the amount of good deeds I do, they will never be enough to wipe away the stain of what I did by stealing Elspeth.”

  After sheathing his sword, Thorfinn silently retreated from the menacing and forthcoming battle.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Coming to a halt before a thick group of pines, the wolf glanced in all directions before slowly entering. His long strides took him into the center. His ears twitched, hearing the sound of footsteps crossing at a fast speed. Jumping onto a fallen log, he inhaled sharply. The other wolves lumbered around him—all aware of who the intruder was bounding toward them.

  When the lad stumbled and fell, he let out a curse.

  In a gray shimmer, the wolf shifted into Magnar. “Erik?” he asked on a low rumble.

  The lad bolted forward through the limbs of a tree.

  Magnar crouched and opened his arms. “You are safe, young chieftain.” His voice tightened with strain as he held the quaking lad.

  Each wolf shifted and stood in a circle around them.

  “You must save Elspeth,” demanded Erik in a voice choked with emotion.

  Magnar drew back, trying to rein in his beast. “How many?”

  Erik swallowed. “Ten, including the evil Seer.”

  “Seer?” echoed Magnar, dread filling him. “Do you ken his name?”

  Erik’s face twisted with hatred, and then he spat on the ground. “Ketil.”

  Rising slowly, Magnar looked at Steinar. “Go fetch my clothing, boots, and axe from Bjorn. I sense him nearby.”

  “’Tis worse than we thought. Your brother and Halvard traveling with a Seer,” mentioned Rorik. “With magic, he can force Elspeth to give him the stone.”

  Magnar nodded solemnly.

  Erik went and sat on the boulder. His shoulders sagged as he dropped his head forward. “Nae, nae ’tis not them. They are gone.”

  The burden of what he’d endured showed on his small frame, and Magnar turned toward Rorik. “Fetch a water skin for the chieftain.”

  Bjorn entered and tossed Magnar his clothing. After dropping his boots and axe on the ground, he said, “The caves are beyond the clearing of the trees.”

  Quickly putting on his tunic and trews, Magnar ordered, “Go observe but remain hidden. Given Erik’s account, there are ten men, and one is a Seer called Ketil.”

  Bjorn’s hand tightened around his sword. “Observe as wolf or man?”

  “Man.” Magnar turned around to face the others and added, “Whatever happens, you must not shift into your wolves. If Ketil is successful in taking the stone from Elspeth, our beasts will control us. Do you ken my meaning?”

  Each acknowledged Magnar with a grunt or nod, while he watched Bjorn silently slip away. Reaching for his boots and axe, Magnar went to sit beside the lad.

  Rorik returned and handed Erik the water skin. The lad guzzled deeply. When Magnar deemed he had enough, he asked, “Who is gone?”

  Erik coughed and sputtered on the water. He wiped a shaky hand across his mouth. “Ketil killed Halvard. He then ordered Thorfinn to slit my throat. But he did not kill me. Instead, he cut the rope and freed me.”

  Stunned into silence, Magnar stared at the lad. You freed the lad but not my wife?

  Erik handed the water skin back to Rorik. “He knew you were coming and showed me the way to you, so you can save Elspeth. Then he left.”

  “Holy Odin,” proclaimed Rorik, raking a hand through his hair.

  “Even with this revelation, Thorfinn’s blood is still mine,” protested Magnar, putting on his boots.

  “Nae!” shouted Erik, slamming his fist into his palm. “In the end, he acted with honor.”

  Standing slowly, Magnar regarded the young warrior and pondered his words. Aye, his brother did act honorably when faced with a grisly deed. Yet the time of reckoning with Thorfinn was coming—be it with words or weapons.

  Magnar placed a gentle hand on the lad’s small shoulder. “I shall think upon what you have revealed.” This was all he could mention to one so young and weary. His wolf however demanded blood vengeance.

  Erik sighed. “Thank you.”

  Releasing his hold, he asked, “Will you promise to remain hidden, Erik, while we rescue Elspeth?”

  Rising slowly, Erik placed a fist over his heart. “I give you my vow to stay in the trees.”

  Gunnar stepped forward. “Allow me to guard him. Call out to me if you require my sword arm.”

  Magnar smiled inwardly. He had hoped one of his warriors would come forth. He knew they all wanted to take part in this battle and refrained from asking them to stand guard with the lad. “You may stay with the chieftain. I reckon five of us can vanquish ten.”

  “Aye!” affirmed his men.

  Magnar raised his axe overhead. “To victory! If death takes you, may you enter Valhalla with honor!”

  Lowering his arm, Magnar stormed out of the trees with his men swiftly following behind him.

  When he reached the clearing, he made careful strides across the land. Beyond the last hill, the temple of Odin beckoned to him. His beloved was there, and his breathing became labored. With one final prayer for his wife, Magnar sealed off all emotions and took off running.

  His steps quickly led him up and over the crest of the hill, and he scanned the area below in search of the enemy. Bjorn was stooped down behind a large boulder not far from the entrance with his gaze fixed on him. Where are they?

  Bjorn shrugged, as if he heard Magnar’s unspoken question.

  Yet what drew Magnar’s attention away from the caves were the five men striding forth toward him.

  His men stood ready—each weapon poised for battle.

  Magnar gripped his axe tightly, the leather biting into his skin. “These men do not travel with the Seer,” he uttered quietly, noting their shaved heads and the blue markings covering their scalps and upper body. They were dressed only in trews and without shoes. He judged them to be those that guarded the temple. Loyal only to Odin and no other.

  The tribe of men halted their progress.

  Forgive me, All Father, for if they have killed my beloved, their blood will stain my weapon.

  Magnar took a step forward. “I am Magnar MacAlpin, son of Andrew—”

  “Grandson to the great Berglund from Kirkjuvágr,” interrupted one of the men, coming forward. He tilted his head to one side and leveled his spear near the ground.

  “If you ken who I am, then you must ken why I am here.” Magnar’s voice was cold and exact.

  “Aye. We have waited for your return. I am called Dagr.”

  Tension knotted Magnar’s shoulders. “Does my wife live?”

  “Not for long. Loki now uses the man called Ketil to try and force her to give him the stone of Odin.” With his staff, he drew a line across the muddy ground. “’Tis a battle between two men and the Gods.”

  His patience snapped. He did not care about a battle between Gods. “Then we waste time discussing what has happened.” Magnar motioned for his men to move forward.

  The man held up his spear in warning. “Nae! There is nae need for your men. We have purged the threat of the others.”

  Magnar dared to take a step
toward the man. “Purged?”

  “Dead,” he replied flatly. “The battle is now between you and Ketil. As I stated, between two Gods and two men. We can do nae more for you.” He leveled his spear against Magnar’s chest. “You are the only man allowed to enter. You must claim what is yours—what was given by Odin. If you fail, many will die.”

  ****

  Elspeth spat out the blood within her mouth. The man’s fury at her repeated attempts to deny him the pendant had been rewarded with a hard smack to the mouth and a fist to her stomach. She gathered she’d met the face of evil with Halvard. She was wrong.

  Ketil was a hideous monster.

  The pain within her body from being beaten by the Seer was merciless, but she would not relent. Her resolve grew with each hour. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, Elspeth sensed the presence of Magnar. Once, she thought she heard him howl and call her name. To ken he was coming gave her the courage and strength to withstand the harsh assault from this monster.

  Besides, to surrender the pendant might mean death for Magnar and all the wolves.

  I would willingly give my life to safeguard the life of my husband—the man I love.

  The vile man paced in a rage around the blue and golden flame in the center of the cave. Its light towered within their darkened space. He pointed, cursed, and shouted at the flame as if expecting some great reward. She strained to understand his language, noting the repeated word of the God Loki.

  A chill of foreboding cloaked her. Even her grandmother had refused to utter that God’s name out loud. To her grandmother, the God was cast out for a reason, and all those that followed his path were doomed to endure a violent death.

  She swept her gaze across the cave and at the entrance. If Ketil continued with his madness, perchance she could flee. And hope soared when she couldn’t see the other men positioned near the entrance. One moment they were standing there and the next, they simply vanished.

  Anything is better than remaining here with this monster. Dear God, let him keep speaking his drivel.

  Elspeth took a hesitant step forward. Her stomach clenched, and she swallowed. She then dared to take two steps, and then three. The light from the entrance beckoned her to keep moving and not look back. As her steps drew her near freedom, Elspeth realized silence now reigned within the cave. Fear kept her from turning around or glimpsing over her shoulder.