Surrender To The Viking (10 page)

‘Jarl Finn’s reputation is well known and, unlike Steingrim’s, for all the right reasons. You’re a lucky girl.’

‘As you say, Cousin.’

‘I’ll wager there are plenty who would like to be in your shoes.’

‘It’s a wager I’m sure you’d win.’

‘What woman could object to sharing her bed with such a man?’

Lara gave him an ambiguous smile. Trust him to leap to that conclusion. It was time to shift the focus of the conversation. ‘I hope that Greta is well.’

He nodded. ‘Well enough, I thank you. She’s carrying our third child now.’

‘Goodness, is she?’

‘The baby’s due in another month, more or less.’

‘Well, congratulations.’

‘Thank you.’

‘How long have you two been married now?’

‘Five years.’ He grinned. ‘At this rate I’d say we’re going to have a large family. I don’t suppose it’ll be very long before you’ve a few children of your own.’

Her cheeks grew warmer. ‘Guthrum, I’ve only been married a few days.’

He chuckled. ‘It takes less time than that to conceive a child.’

Her blush deepened. The man was incorrigible. ‘I bow to your superior knowledge.’

‘As well you should.’

‘Get your mind out of the midden, Cousin, and tell me the rest of the family news,’ she replied.

He laughed but, to her relief, complied and the conversation moved into less hazardous waters.

* * *

Finn kept up his part in the conversation with his present companions but he couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering across the intervening space to where Lara was sitting. She looked pensive, completely lost in her own world. He’d have given a good deal to know her thoughts. Did he feature there at all? Her manner seemed less distant than it had erewhile; once or twice even friendly, but he didn’t want to read too much into that. He saw Guthrum get up and go to sit with her. They were speaking quietly so he couldn’t hear the conversation but they seemed to be very relaxed in each other’s company. Their shared laughter was a pointed reminder of the gulf that lay between himself and his wife. It also created a twinge of something suspiciously like jealousy. He fought it. Why on earth he should feel jealous over something so trivial was beyond him. They were cousins for goodness’ sake.

However, his self-control was tested further when half-a-dozen others came over to sit with Lara and Guthrum. Clearly all of them were known to her because she greeted them with a smile and fell readily into conversation. Members of her uncle’s household no doubt. Some were older men but by no means all, and while their manner was unmistakably respectful he didn’t fail to see the admiring looks directed her way. It pleased him that other men should find his wife attractive but he’d have preferred their admiration to be at a greater distance. He sighed. That kind of thinking had been entirely absent in his recent dealings with women; he wooed them, bedded them and moved on. Not since Bótey had he experienced such raw possessiveness.

The discovery of her perfidy had been a knife in the guts. He hadn’t suspected a thing until he found her gone. The swift interrogation of a frightened servant established the facts. The affair must have been going on for months until in the end she’d decided that a future with her lover looked better than the one she might have had with her husband. He’d been jealous then all right, and made furious with the pain of betrayal. But no matter how great his rage he’d never have harmed Bótey. His purpose in pursuing her had been to get her back. He’d been prepared to kill the man who stood in his way but never to do her physical harm. He’d thought she would have known that but it seemed she hadn’t known him at all. He should have sheathed the sword before he tried to approach her but it hadn’t occurred to him that she might think he intended to use it on her.

‘Your lovely wife is a real asset,’ said Unnr.

Finn snapped back to awareness. ‘What was that about my wife?’

‘I said she’s an asset.’

‘Oh. Oh, yes, she is.’

‘It was a cunning move to bring her along, my lord.’

‘You think so?’

‘Of course. Men will fight better with a woman looking on.’

‘She won’t be looking on,’ replied Finn. ‘She’ll be in a much safer place.’

‘I didn’t mean literally,’ said Unnr. ‘Stands to reason you wouldn’t put her at risk. All the same, every man here will want to give a good account of himself in the fight because she’ll be the first to hear the story afterwards.’

‘You mean they’ll want to boast of their battle fame.’

‘What man doesn’t want to impress a lovely woman, especially when she’s the wife of his jarl? Her approval adds to the prestige.’

‘Does it really?’

‘Yes, my lord, especially when that approval is not easily won.’

‘It sounds to me as if you inherited your brother’s romantic streak. Either that or the ale’s stronger than it seems.’

Unnr sniffed. ‘You may mock, my lord, but you’ll see if I’m not right.’

Chapter Eleven

T
he men rose early the next morning in preparation for a reconnaissance mission. Lara watched Finn arm.

‘Let me come with you.’

‘No. You’ll stay here with a small guard.’

Recognising the tone she didn’t try to argue. However, he heard the stifled sigh. Taking her shoulders in a firm clasp he met her gaze.

‘I don’t know how this will end, Lara. I’m intending to reconnoitre and lay my plans when I know where Steingrim is, but if we were to happen upon him suddenly anything could happen.’

‘I understand.’

‘It is well.’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘I’ll return as soon as I can.’

She nodded. The prospect of a long day spent in uncertainty without occupation or news filled her with dismay but whining about it would serve no purpose, except to annoy him, and she didn’t wish to do that. It sat ill that he might think her spoilt and petulant. This undertaking was important to him and if her part was to remain behind then she would do it without complaint. So she looked on in silence as he completed his preparations, her gaze missing no detail. Gods, but he was imposing, in fact downright intimidating. The chainmail byrnie enhanced every line of that virile form, accentuating the impression of lithe strength. Sword and seax did nothing to detract from that. His face, so arresting before, was now partly concealed by the guards of the helmet and had acquired a dangerous distinction that made her catch her breath. Privately she thought he looked magnificent and, somewhere deep inside her, a flicker of pride kindled into life.

Becoming aware of her scrutiny he eyed her askance. ‘Have I forgotten something?’

Lara cleared her throat. ‘No, my lord. I am sure you have not. Your war gear is a second skin to you.’

‘That’s well put.’

He smiled and her heart gave a dangerous lurch. She had never been so aware of a man in her entire life, had never met one who aroused such sensations in her. His company both excited and perturbed. How amused he would be if he knew that. Get a grip, Lara. You’ve seen men in war gear before for goodness’ sake. Seeking another outlet for her attention she focused instead on the sword at his side.

‘That looks like a beautiful weapon. May I see it?’

‘If you wish.’ He drew the blade and then, altering his hold, offered it to her. ‘Here.’

Carefully she closed her hand around the grip and lifted the sword. At once she was aware of its weight, heavier by far than her own. The crescent-shaped pommel was silver, beautifully wrought and inlaid with niello. The guards were silver too and similarly decorated. However, it was the blade that took her breath away. Its forging had created wondrous rippling patterns that flowed down the surface of the steel like water, shining grey-blue in the light. It was magical, like a sword out of a saga. Odin might have had a weapon like this. She didn’t need to be told that its edge was sharp enough to split a hair.

‘It’s magnificent—truly a warrior’s weapon. Does it have a name?’

‘Foe Slayer.’

She smiled. ‘Very apt.’

‘I thought so.’

‘Was the blade made for you?’

‘It’s one of a pair specially commissioned for me and my brother, Leif. We named the swords accordingly. His is Foe Bane.’

‘A most appropriate choice.’ She traced a finger lightly along the central fuller. ‘The smith was a cunning workman.’

‘One of the best.’

‘Evidently.’ She handed the weapon back. ‘I can see why you chose him to make this.’

Finn returned the blade to its scabbard. ‘It has served me well and no doubt will do so again.’

‘No matter how fine the sword it’s only as good as the man who wields it.’

‘Should I take that as a compliment?’

‘Very much so.’

The words came so naturally that they were out almost before she was aware. It was only then that their implications occurred to her. Somehow another shift had taken place in her thinking about him. His momentary silence suggested that the significance hadn’t escaped him either. Under the weight of that penetrating gaze she felt her colour mount.

‘I’ll strive to deserve your praise,’ he replied. Then seeing the men beginning to embark the ships he smiled ruefully. ‘I must go but, with any luck, not for long. I anticipate finding Steingrim very soon. When a hundred and eighty men are hunting each other they’re likely to be successful rather than not.’

She tried to look pleased for him; tried to ignore the knot of anxiety in her stomach. ‘Go well, my lord.’

His hand brushed her cheek. ‘Go well, Lara.’

Watching the ships pull away from the shore she felt strangely bereft. Not so long ago it would have pleased her to see them leave.

‘Never fret, my lady, they’ll be back.’

She glanced round to see Torstein. He was one of half-a-dozen guards who had remained behind. They were older men from among the contingent who had arrived the previous day with Guthrum, hearth companions who had been entrusted with her safety.

She summoned a smile. ‘Of course they will.’
Gods, that had better be true.

* * *

Time hung heavily that morning. The guards paid her no further heed and sat talking quietly together. Lara took the opportunity to bathe her hands and face and then comb her hair. It took a while but she was disinclined to hurry knowing that lack of occupation would afford too much opportunity to think. As it was the campsite seemed forlorn. She missed the company of the men and their cheerful banter and laughter. She missed her brother and cousin and, she was forced to admit, she missed Finn’s dynamic and enlivening presence. When he was nearby the very air seemed charged with invisible energy. Now he was gone it was as though light and colour had somehow leached away with him. The result was an unwonted lowering of the spirits.

Eventually she could stand the inaction no longer. If she didn’t find something to do, she would go crazy. Making up her mind she went to speak to Torstein.

‘If you don’t mind I’ll go and collect some wood for the fire this evening.’

He nodded. ‘Aye, why not?’

‘I won’t go too far.’

‘All the same I reckon Gorm and I’ll come along and lend a hand.’

Gorm got to his feet and the three of them headed off together. Pleased as she was to be doing something it didn’t stop Lara from thinking. How far had the ship travelled? What was Finn doing now? In her imagination he was walking the deck or taking a turn at the oars or perhaps standing in the prow, scanning the horizon for a sighting of Steingrim. Given the number of islands along the coast that might not be so easy. There were plenty of hiding places where a vessel might lie in wait. Finn had the advantage now but the situation might change at any time. The consequences of that didn’t bear thinking about. She sighed and bent to pick up another log.

Somewhere among the trees ahead a twig snapped underfoot—the sound like a cracking whip in the quiet air. Lara turned quickly, her gaze moving to the thicket. Her two companions did likewise.

‘What was that?’ she asked. ‘A bear perhaps?’

‘I don’t know, my lady.’

Torstein remained quite still, listening intently. Nothing moved. Lara darted swift looks around. The thought of a bear so close to the camp was not reassuring.

‘I don’t hear anything,’ she murmured.

Even the birds were quiet now but it was not a peaceful silence. As it drew out she felt the skin prickle on the back of her neck. Nor was she alone in feeling uneasy. Torstein slowly laid down his bundle of firewood and drew his sword.

‘Best you go back, lady,’ he said, ‘while we—’

He broke off as half-a-dozen men stepped out of the thicket, all of them clad in war gear and all of them fully armed. One look was enough to ascertain that they weren’t friends. Gorm drew his sword. Then Torstein spoke again, this time his tone low and urgent.

‘Go, lady. Now.’

Dropping the firewood she turned and ran. Behind her she could hear the clash of steel. Her mouth dried. Torstein and Gorm would have no chance against such odds. She had to alert the others. However, she had barely gone fifty yards when more armed men stepped out of the thicket in front of her. She checked abruptly, looking desperately around for an escape route. There was none. She was surrounded. Her mouth dried as they closed in, a pack of grinning wolves with steel teeth.

* * *

As the sun rose above the hills, Finn’s frustration mounted too. They’d made good speed but still an intensive search had revealed no trace of Steingrim. He wasn’t that far ahead of them so they ought at least to have sighted his ships by now. The fact that they hadn’t so much as glimpsed a sail made Finn increasingly suspicious. It didn’t pay to underestimate an enemy like Steingrim and especially not when he was out of plain view.

Finn glared at an empty horizon. ‘Where in Frigg’s name is he?’

‘Hiding out among the islands maybe,’ said Unnr.

‘The hunter hiding?’ replied Vigdis. ‘It doesn’t make sense. What he wants is battle and slaughter.’

‘Unless he’s lying in wait somewhere.’

‘If he’d been waiting we’d have come near him by now and he’d have launched an attack,’ replied Finn. ‘It doesn’t stack up. We ought to have found him.’

‘Maybe he was thinking the same thing, my lord,’ said Vigdis. ‘It must have occurred to him by now that he could have passed us. If so he might have doubled back.’

That uncomfortable thought had been in the back of Finn’s mind too. Hearing it spoken aloud only lent it greater weight.

‘If he’d doubled back then surely we’d have seen him,’ said Unnr.

‘Not necessarily,’ replied Finn. ‘Steingrim is cunning. He wouldn’t risk sailing right into us without knowing our strength first. He’d be stealthy about it.’

Vigdis nodded. ‘Under cover of darkness maybe? Remaining unseen and safely out in open water while he looked for the light from our campfire? Having located it, all he’d have to do would be to wait just out of sight and plan his next move.’

An uneasy silence descended. Finn’s frown deepened. He knew that it was entirely possible and he didn’t like the implications one bit.

‘Turn around. We’re going back.’

* * *

It was over very quickly in spite of furious resistance. In less than a minute Lara was overpowered and slung over a mailed shoulder like a sack of meal. Ignoring struggles and curses her captor took her back to camp. He set her down then, albeit retaining a vicelike grip on her arm. Breathless and dishevelled she looked around. With a sinking heart she saw the two sea dragons lying just offshore and realised that the invaders must have doubled back and then overrun the place. The four remaining guards were dead, their bodies lying where they had fallen. Of Torstein and Gorm there was no sign.

Her captor hauled her in front of a mail-clad warrior seated on a rock nearby. He was an older man, in his early forties perhaps, his lined face as hard and angular as a hatchet. Strands of grey mingled with black in his hair and beard. The latter was plaited, the braid interwoven with a strip of red cloth. A helmet, crested with the likeness of a charging boar, reposed beside him. A naked sword rested lightly across his knees.

Conversation faded and the place grew quiet, the air laden with expectation as the weight of attention turned their way. Lara tensed, her heart thumping unpleasantly fast as she realised who was sitting in front of her. He surveyed her in silence. Under the scrutiny of those dark and feral eyes her skin crawled. Then he inclined his head in acknowledgement.

‘Well met, Lara Ottarsdotter.’

She forced herself to meet his eye. Whatever happened she had to hide her fear. ‘You are well informed, Jarl Steingrim.’

‘One hears things,’ he replied. ‘Intriguing things sometimes.’

She evinced polite interest. ‘Indeed?’

‘Ordinarily a marriage alliance wouldn’t be of much interest to me but when it concerns an old acquaintance I find myself curious.’

She remained silent hoping her face wouldn’t reveal the dismay she felt inside. Her first thought was to wonder how he’d found out. Just as quickly she dismissed it.
Never mind how he found out. He knows and that’s it.

‘Curious to see Finn Egilsson’s bride,’ Steingrim went on. His gaze stripped her and then he shrugged. ‘Well, each man to his own.’

Soft laughter issued from the crowd. Still she remained silent, refusing to rise to the bait. Let Steingrim insult her. It didn’t matter what he thought. It didn’t matter what any of them thought.

‘Of course, it may be that his first concern wasn’t your looks. Most likely it was fighting men.’ He paused. ‘How many men, I wonder?’

Her heart sank as she saw which way this tended. Whatever happened she wasn’t about to give him the information he sought. She knew she was going to have to tell him something and make it plausible, just not the truth.

‘Enough,’ she replied.

Steingrim rose from his seat and casually lifted the sword. The point hovered an inch from the base of her throat.

‘How many?’

She knew better than to think he was bluffing. If she defied him openly he’d cut her all right—into slivers if need be. ‘Twenty of his own men and...’ she hesitated, hoping it sounded reluctant and therefore more convincing. If she misjudged it...

‘And?’

She swallowed hard. ‘My brother’s crew as well. He...he has fifty men.’

‘Who else?’

‘No one else.’

The point of the sword came to rest against her skin. ‘I’ll ask you just once more. Who else?’

Does he know of Guthrum’s involvement or does he just suspect? Gods, let it be the latter.
Her gaze met his and held it. ‘I told you, no one else.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

The point pressed closer and a bead of blood welled on her skin. Her stomach wallowed but she forced herself to keep looking at Steingrim.

‘Suit yourself. Killing me won’t change the facts. Anyway, fifty men will be more than enough to slay the lot of you.’

His eyes glinted and for a moment she thought she was dead. Then anger was replaced by grudging admiration and he laughed and the blade was withdrawn a little way.

‘Fifty will not defeat eighty, Lara Ottarsdotter.’