The Viking's Witch (28 page)

Brennan chuckled. “Have you lost your powers, witch? You shall be easy prey for the pyre.”

She darted around Rothgar and kicked Brennan hard in the shin. He cried out and rose from the chair, only to be grabbed and shoved back down by Sig.

Rothgar spun around. “What did I just say, Odaria? Have you no ears?”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “’Twas no spell or curse, merely a swift kick.” For a second, she thought she saw a smile flicker across Rothgar’s bearded face. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the rope binding her hands.

“It is time we leave.”

Without protest, she let Rothgar escort her out of the gathering hall. If she stayed quiet and waited for the right moment, she might be able to escape and …

A commotion behind her interrupted her thoughts. She looked in time to see Haraldur shove Brennan out of the gathering hall. Brennan tripped and fell to the ground. She laughed. “What’s wrong, Brennan? Forget how to walk?”

Brennan spit in her direction as Sig grabbed him by his ripped shirt and hauled him to his feet. “We shall see how you laugh when I light the fire beneath you,” Brennan snarled.

Rothgar stepped between them. “If either of you speak again, I will have you
both
gagged.” He pushed Brennan ahead of him. “Lead us to Orvind. If I suspect a trick, you know what will happen to you. Keep your word, and you will have Odaria.”

Brennan nodded and led them out of the village. “The place is not far. I’m looking forward to making our trade. The witch shall be destroyed before your ships have sailed.”

Her stomach lurched, and she glanced at Rothgar, praying for a sign of hope. He wasn’t going to let Brennan have her, was he? To her horror, he grinned and nodded.

“When I have Orvind, she is yours, Brennan.” He laughed. “In some ways, she is more trouble than she’s worth.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at Rothgar in disbelief. How could he say such cruel things about her? He was escorting her to a horrible death, and he didn’t even care. She kicked a stone ahead of her on the path and growled under her breath.

No matter what happened this morning, she’d never give Rothgar the satisfaction of seeing her cry or beg for his help again. If she stood any chance of escaping Brennan’s clutches, she’d have to rely on her own wits.

Chapter Fourteen

Rothgar clutched the rope binding Odaria’s wrists in his sweaty hands. He kept a close eye on her as she walked slightly ahead of him along his right side. She kept up a steady pace, staring straight ahead and not uttering a sound. What was she thinking? If he knew her as well as he thought he did, she was alternating between hating him and devising a plan to make her escape.

He hoped she
could
find a way to escape, if it came to that. She had told the truth when she said that she’d sooner die than be given over to Brennan.

Odaria glanced over her shoulder and sneered at him, then looked away.

He focused his attention on Brennan as he led them over another hilltop. Where was he taking them? They weren’t far from the village. Even though he had searched the isle many times, he hadn’t found any hiding places. What if this was a trap? Odaria had warned him never to trust Brennan, and now he was putting all their lives in his hands. If something went wrong and his plan failed …

Odaria wriggled the rope tied around her wrists as she walked over the hilltop. The knots dug into her tender skin as she twisted and struggled. It was no use trying to wrench her hands free, Rothgar had bound her good and tight. Now what should she do? Was there any hope of persuading him to set her free?

She stopped walking and allowed Rothgar to fall into step next to her. “I canna believe you are allowing yourself to be tricked by
him
,” she said, gesturing at Brennan. “I thought you were a clever man with brains in his skull.”

“Keep quiet.”

“Nay, I see no need to remain silent. I shall be quieted forever soon enough. If I’m to be killed, I wish to speak my mind first.” She kept up the banter as Rothgar pushed her forward. “You cannot trust Brennan. He lies whenever it suits his purpose. When this bargain of yours turns into a disaster and you are deceived, will you blame yourself for not heeding the word of a witch?”

Rothgar stopped walking and tugged on the rope to stop her. “What do you mean?”

She forced herself to suppress a grin. Her plan was working. Little by little, Rothgar was falling sway to her words. If she could keep his interest and convince him not to trust Brennan, there was still hope for her.

“Did you forget that I have visions? I can foretell events, Rothgar.”

“Pay her no mind. ’Tis nothing but a witch’s trick,” Brennan shouted.

Rothgar glanced behind him. “What do you see?”

She shrugged. “Trouble. For you and anyone who trusts that murdering scum. Why are you so certain he will lead you to Orvind? How do you know that he won’t take you to some headless corpse and claim it is Orvind?” She laughed. “You must know by now that Brennan would tell you anything you wished to hear so he could get his hands on me.”

Rothgar arched an eyebrow and seemed to be considering her words. He nodded slowly. “Aye, and I also know that
you
would say anything you needed to in order to save
your
skin.” He shoved her ahead of him. “Keep walking, witch. If I’ve learned anything on this wretched isle, it’s never to trust a Pict.”

“Bastard.” She stomped through the grass. Her plan had failed. Rothgar had seen past her deception. She whirled around to face him. Perhaps speaking plainly would carve some sense into his thick skull.

“Is Orvind so important to you that you will condemn me to death? Suppose you find him and he’s already dead. Then what? Is his rotting corpse worth my life? Will you be content knowing you have sent me to the pyre for no reason?”

“If you speak again, I will stuff a rag in your mouth, witch.”

She growled through clenched teeth and spun around. Fine. If Rothgar didn’t wish her to speak, she wouldn’t. She’d never say another word to the foul Norse-beast. But how was she going to get out of this?

Mayhap she could find a moment to escape when they reached the place where Orvind was hidden. If Rothgar became distracted, she could snatch a dagger from him and do away with Brennan herself. But what if she failed? Brennan would show her no mercy.

She shook her head. How in the name of the gods had she allowed herself to get into this plight? Her own foolishness was to blame. Looking back, she could have done things much differently.

The day her mother vanished, she should have stolen a fishing boat and rowed off the isle. There was no doubt in her mind that Brennan was responsible for her mother’s death. If she had been thinking clearly, she could have fled the isle and drifted wherever the sea took her.

But perhaps her fatal mistake had occurred more recently. She should never have trusted Rothgar. The moment he kissed her, she knew she would be powerless to resist him. Her mother had always warned her against getting involved with men. Why hadn’t she listened?

She gazed into the cloudless blue sky. Birds were singing all around them, joyful and free. A warm breeze washed over her, caressing her skin like a gentle kiss. On any other day, she’d be happy and carefree but not today. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Today was the last day of her life, and what did she have to show for it? Nothing. Just when she’d started to believe that she could have a good life with a man she loved, the gods had played a cruel trick on her.

How could Rothgar do this? Had what they’d shared this morning meant nothing to him? At least she’d tasted the forbidden pleasures of lovemaking in her short life. She blinked back tears. How could her vision of being wed to Rothgar have been so horribly wrong?

Her visions were never wrong, yet Rothgar had betrayed her. And for what? His foolish cousin who was most likely already dead? If they ever did find Orvind alive, she’d give him a healthy smack for causing all this trouble.

She stared out across the field as she walked on. Where was Brennan leading them? From the look of the countryside, she knew they were on the northern end of the isle, but why? There was nothing in this direction except … the abandoned village.

She stopped walking and pulled back. “Rothgar, I—”

“I told you not to talk.”

“Ye don’t understand. I know—”

“Be quiet.”

Stupid man. Why wouldn’t he listen to her? “Fine. I’ll keep quiet. But remember I tried to warn you.”

She stomped on ahead of him, shaking her head. Why had she fallen in love with a stubborn Norseman? The gods must have been drunk the day they decided her fate—tortured, nearly burned to death, and hopelessly in love with a Norseman who had deceived her. She rolled her eyes. What other games were the gods planning for her today? Would Brennan win out?

Everything that had gone wrong in her life was Brennan’s fault. He had turned the villagers against her, taken her mother, and now made the man she loved abandon her …

Her pulse surged, and she glared at Brennan’s back. Perhaps she could conjure a bolt of lightning to strike him dead on the spot. Her rage faded quickly, and she bent her head down. It was no use trying to conjure anything. She was too exhausted to summon the feelings she needed.

A moment later, she spotted a crumbling stone wall in the distance. They had reached the abandoned village. Why had Brennan led them to this place? There was nothing here except remnants of an old church and ruins. The pathways through the tiny settlement were overgrown with dense weeds and grass, yet she smelled the faint odor of smoke on the wind. Was someone living here?

“This is where you have hidden Orvind?” Rothgar said. “We searched these ruins. He is not here.”

Brennan smirked. “You need to know where to look. Did you think I would leave him out in the open? Follow me, and I shall take you to him.”

Odaria glanced at Rothgar as he followed Brennan. Had he lost all sense in his head? How could an experienced warrior be so damn foolish?

“Rothgar, there’s—”

“Quiet!” He tugged on the rope and dragged her alongside him. Her sixth sense flared a warning, and her skin prickled. Danger lurked here. Nothing about this situation felt right. Brennan was acting too calm and too pleasant. Something was dreadfully wrong.

Brennan led them past a low stone wall on the outer edge of the village. She noticed a small stack of dried brush and bits of wood hidden in the corner. She cringed as the wind sent another waft of smoke to her nostrils. It was a fire. Couldn’t Rothgar smell that? Someone else was here. She tried to jerk away from Rothgar, but he held her fast.

“Let me go! Do you not see what he’s doing? This is a trap.”

“Keep quiet, witch,” Rothgar snarled. “You can’t trick me with your words.”

“I’m not. I swear it. Listen to me.”

Brennan stopped walking and pointed to a small hill along the edge of the stone wall. “The ones you seek are in there.”

She groaned. Brennan had hidden Orvind inside a
cairn
. When Rothgar had netted the villagers, there was no one to give the captured Norsemen sustenance. After days without water, the odds were that they had perished. In essence, they had been buried alive.

“Where? I see nothing but a hill,” Rothgar snapped.

“He is beneath the ground.” Brennan chuckled. “He may still be alive. You should hurry.”

Rothgar knocked Brennan to the ground with a single punch to the jaw. He cursed, then hauled him up by the front of his shirt, shaking him like a rag doll. “Do not spew lies at me. Tell me where he is, or I will tear your heart out.”

Brennan’s eyes widened, and he pointed to a large stone. “Move that rock. It conceals a doorway. Follow the passageway into the
cairn
.”

Rothgar dropped Brennan, then exchanged words with Haraldur and Sig. A moment later, he grabbed the rope binding her hands and yanked her toward the
cairn
.

“Let me go! What are you doing?”

“Bring her back. The witch is mine,” Brennan shouted.

“You may have her when I have Orvind.”

Rothgar shoved the rock away from the hillside, exposing the entrance to the
cairn
. He knelt in the grass and pulled her down next to him. “The passageway is narrow. Go in first. I will follow.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she shook her head. “Nay, I shan’t help you send me to my doom. If Orvind is your precious cousin, fetch him yourself.” She tried to rise, but Rothgar grabbed her shoulder and held her fast.

“You are going in. He may be hurt and need your help.” He shoved her forward. “Go!”

“Bloody Norse pain in my arse,” she muttered. There was no sense arguing with Rothgar. Perhaps if she helped him save Orvind, he’d spare her Brennan’s wrath.

She ducked low and crawled through the tiny opening. The damp smell of earth, mixed with a sickly-sweet aroma, turned her stomach. She held her breath and tried to quell her nausea as she crawled down the narrow passageway. Her stomach rolled, and she stopped and closed her eyes, praying not to be sick. Ever since she’d made love to Rothgar this morning, her stomach felt unsettled and more sensitive than usual.

At first, she thought her ill feeling was caused by a lack of food. She hadn’t eaten anything since she’d been in her
cairn
with Rothgar. But now she was starting to suspect another reason. She swallowed hard and pressed on. Several feet inside, the passageway opened into a small room and she was able to stand.

“Crawl through, Rothgar. It opens to a room once you are in farther.” She fumbled around in the blackness and discovered a shelf built into the wall. Her hand closed around the nub of a candle and a flint. She lit the candle. The yellow glow cast long shadows on the earthen walls, illuminating Brennan’s deception. The
cairn
was empty.

Rothgar’s curses echoed in the tiny chamber as he squeezed down the passageway. When he reached the room, he tried to stand and smacked his head on the ceiling. She burst out laughing.

“By the gods, Odaria, I swear—”

“Remember, you insisted I accompany you. Did you think I would make it easy on you?” She sighed. “I know not what you need me here for. You—”

“Because I know how you think, witch. The moment I entered here, you would have made an escape. If you are with me, I know you cannot flee.”

Damn! Rothgar knew her mind well. That had been her plan exactly.

He looked around the
cairn
. “Where the hell is Orvind?”

“I warned you about Brennan. He—”

“Be quiet.” He snatched the candle from her hand and crawled to the back of the room.

“I’m tired of you ordering me to be quiet. If I wish to speak, I shall. You do not own me.” She watched the candle flame waver in his hand. What was he doing? “You have no right to—”

“If you utter another sound, Odaria, I swear I … By Thor, there’s another opening here.”

“Where?” She went to the back of the
cairn
. Rothgar stuck his arm into the tiny passageway, illuminating it for her. She coughed and held her nose as her nostrils were assaulted by a thick stench.

There was no mistaking the smell of death. She closed her eyes and tried not to breathe or throw up. If Orvind was dead, perhaps Rothgar would call off his trade. Could she convince him to reconsider giving her to Brennan?

“Rothgar, he’s—”