Vengeance Hammer (Viking Vengeance) (21 page)

Jorunn grabbed a lock of her hair and yanked.

“Ouch,” she yelped. The babe was as strong as an ox. Her scalp prickled.

Skatha clapped. “You spoke. You did. Did you hear yourself? You said ouch. Say something else.”

Dared she? Aye. She did dare. “Dráddør.”

His name was nectar on her tongue. “Dráddør.”

Jorunn wriggled, twisted to his mother, and raised his arms. “Mama.”

Skatha’s jaw dropped. Her lips trembled. She looked first at Nyssa and then Xára. Her eyes shimmered with joyous tears. “He said Mama. Did he not?”

“Aye,” Xára replied. “I heard him.”

“So did I.” Nyssa reached down and pinched Jorunn’s cheeks. “What a clever boy, you are.”

Jorunn’s lower lip stuck out. “Mama.”

Skatha took the boy from Xára. She kissed his brow, each cheek, and then his nose. “My sweet boy. Say it again. Say Mama.”

“Nay. Nay. Nay,” the boy babbled and snuggled close, one dimpled hand clutching his horse, the other worked his thumb into his mouth.

“He is ready to go to sleep.” Skatha stood and walked back and forth rocking her son. “We must send a message to Dráddør at once. He will be so pleased, Xára. He was fraught with worry.”

Somehow Xára could not picture Dráddør fraught with worry. Her husband was more likely to be angry or amused, but worried? Nay.

She sat up and fingered the spot where the raised line of flesh used to be and found naught but smooth skin. “’Tis gone?”

“Aye. Not e’en the slightest scar. Dráddør told us what Magnhildur did to you. Tell me, do you recall any smoke or strange smell in your chamber before she and Néill entered?” Nyssa kneaded her back.

Xára tried to recall that fateful night, but though the events from the time Magnhildur and Néill entered her room were vivid, she couldn’t remember what had woken her in the first place.

“Nay.” The sound of her own voice startled her. Was it the same as before? “I recollect what happened after they came in, but not before.”

“Jorunn sleeps. I will call for his nurse and have him taken to our chamber. I will also tell one of the guards to alert Dráddør that you have awoken. But, I will say no more. You must surprise him, Xára.” Skatha winked. “Trust me, ’twill result in a swiving you will treasure.”

Heat scalded Xára’s face at Skatha’s casual use of the wicked word.

“Aye, ’twill if Dráddør is half as lusty as Konáll.” Nyssa waddled back to the chair. “I am famished. Will you send for a tray, Skatha?”

“Aye. My belly has been growling for some time. I will return anon.”

Xára hopped off the bed. “I will open the door for you.”

“Should she be walking around, Nyssa?” Skatha asked.

“Are you dizzy or faint, Xára?”

Xára shook her head and rolled her eyes when she caught herself. “Nay. ’Tis strange but I do not feel unwell.”

Grunting snores emanated from the sleeping babe. Xára could not prevent a smile. She whispered, “He snores like a full-grown man.”

“He bellows and yowls like a full-grown man, so ’tis only appropriate he snore that way, too,” Skatha whispered back.

Xára closed the door after Skatha stepped into the hallway. She strode back to the bed only to find Nyssa struggling to keep her eyes open.

“You are exhausted. Come, let me help you to the bed. That chair cannot be comfortable.” She helped Nyssa to stand and snagged her arm around the woman’s back. “Do you suffer any illness from healing me?”

“Nay. The poison left me almost immediately. But it took some time for you to expel it.” Nyssa heaved a loud sigh when Xára helped her climb onto the bed. She stretched out and rested her head on the pillows. “You must try to recall what happened that night. Methinks, ’tis the root of what will happen.”

Xára hesitated, but gritted her teeth, and told Nyssa of her strange dreams of that night.

Nyssa grinned. “I suspected as much. ’Tis not a dream, Xára. Methinks, it all happened. ’Twould explain much. Why Jennie sent you to the abbey. Did the abbess, Lady Gráinne, admit you to Circe Fearn?”

“I cannot remember. I had barely seen my tenth winter when I was sent there. Why?” Xára could not follow Nyssa’s rapid change of topic.

“Lady Gráinne is one of the guardians to half-immortal females. I am the daughter of the goddess Rán and the King of Rurari. Skatha is the daughter of Kenneth of Scotland and the goddess, Skaði. We were both entrusted into Lady Gráinne’s care. You are the daughter of Heimdallr, watchman of the gods. ’Tis the reason you were sent to Circe Fearn.”

Xára digested this information for a few moments. “I believed ’twas on Arnfinn’s orders, but mayhap Jennie was behind it after all.”

“2Tis strange you call your mother by name. But you have been long gone from her.”

Seeking to distract Nyssa, Xára blurted, “Aye. Methinks she sought to ease my loneliness when I first went to Touft as Ulna was there when I arrived. ’Twas when we developed our hand signals as the nuns there all had taken vows of silence. But, Jen—Mama sent for Ulna after the first winter. She had taken ill and needed Ulna to care for Evie who had not e’en seen two summers.”

“’Twas how you were able to communicate with Evie after Magnhildur took your voice. In truth, all seems to have happened to a plan. It makes me wonder why we are all here at this same time. I have long suspected my goddess mother watches o’er me and ’twould seem ’tis the same for Skatha. Mayhap Heimdallr’s hand is behind all of this.” Nyssa winced and held her side.

“Are you in pain?” Xára asked.

“Nay. The babe kicks. Here. Feel.” She caught Xára’s hand and held it to her belly.

Xára flinched when the babe jerked against her palm. “How does it feel?”

Nyssa laughed. “Like I am trying to contain a bucking stallion.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“I pray that is food for I am wont to chew my slippers at this point,” Nyssa declared.

Xára hurried to the open the door. She gasped when her gaze met Dráddør’s.

“Why are you walking about?” He scooped her off her feet. “Show me your throat.”

She craned her neck.

He stared at her throat and then met her gaze. “’Tis gone. Are you well?”

Xára smiled. She said, “Dráddør.”

Chapter Eleven

“Say it again.” Dráddør demanded. He could not tear his gaze away from Xára’s lips as she once again said his name.

“Are you well?” He inspected her features. Her cheeks had pinkened and her turquoise eyes gleamed when she smiled at him.

“’Tis strange to hear my voice. It echoes in my head.” She ducked her chin and then whispered, “I still have the use of my legs.”

“And you will put them to good use when you wrap them around my head.” He nuzzled her ear. She smelled so good, so alive, and warm. He had a dire need to sheathe his cock in her heat. Taste her sweet nectar. Imprint the feel of her in his arms. How had she become so precious to him in a mere few days?

His. His. His.

She was all his and he would slay any who tried to harm her. He nipped her lobe.

“Oh,” she mewled, drew back, and sent a swift glance at the bed.

Dráddør followed the direction of her gaze and grinned when he saw Nyssa sprawled on the covers. He stepped into the room and shoved the door open to allow the maid following him entry.

Nyssa sat up. She sniffed and eyed the tray the maid carried with the gaze of a bear just awakening from long hibernation. “Bread and honey. Is there cheese? Or mayhap berries? I have a craving for big, fat blueberries.”

Konáll pushed past the two of them. “A tray of berries and cream is in our chamber. Come wife. Let us leave these two alone. We depart on the noon tide and you and I have much to discuss.”

“You are leaving?”

Xára had the most magikal voice he had ever heard. ’Twas like liquid honey pouring all over him, thick, sweet, and warm. He’d been erect since she’d first said his name, but now his balls blued and jammed up tight.

She waved a hand in his face. “Do you leave?”

The panic in her tone could not be mistaken. “Be at ease, wife. Godfraid and Magnhildur left on the morning tide.”

Her eyes widened. Then she frowned. “’Tis too good to believe. Are you cert?”

“Aye,” Konáll answered. “His ships are gone and the chamber in the south tower is empty. Brökk has gone to Myrtle Harbor to question the villagers.”

“Does Skatha know of this?” Nyssa motioned for the maid to set the tray on the table by the bed. “She went to give Jorunn into the care of his nurse.”

Konáll appropriated a bowl of berries from the tray and handed them to Nyssa. “Here. ’Twill stave off your hunger until we reach our room. We will find Skatha and let her know what has happened.”

With that he scooped Nyssa into his arms.

The maid set the tray down and curtsied to Dráddør.

“Wait,” Nyssa called. She pointed to the dirty cloths and the stained dress and underclothes heaped next to the door. “Take those outside the bailey and burn them. Have the spice chest burned too.”

“Aye, my lady.” The maid gathered the materials into her skirts and marched to the hallway.

Nyssa juggled the bowl from one hand to the other. “Xára, tell Dráddør of Heimdallr. ’Tis of import he knows all.”

“Heimdallr?” Dráddør frowned. “What has the watchman of the gods to do with aught?”

“Xára is his daughter,” Nyssa replied as she and Konáll vanished into the hallway.

“’Tis true?” Shifting Xára in his hold, he closed and barred the door.

When Xára related what had happened on the night she lost her voice, his fury surged. Though his rage was directed at Magnhildur and Néill, he could not help but be angered with Jennie for not protecting Xára the way a mother should. “Why did your mother not tell you of your sire?”

Xára focused on a spot above his shoulder. She shook her head. “Jennie feared for our lives, if Arnfinn discovered we were not his get.”

Yet Evie knew of her real father. Had Jennie felt it safe to tell the sprite after Arnfinn’s death? More so, did she feel the need to assuage her guilt, for she had killed her husband? Then he recalled Xára’s claim Jennie had not poisoned Arnfinn.

“Do you leave Earl Tighe in charge of Lathairn?”

The worry in her voice distracted him. He sought to appease her concerns. “Aye. Tighe will remain, as will his warriors. Brökk, Konáll, and I will split our forces as we have no notion of Wazir Niketas’s direction. I will go east, Konáll west, and Brökk north. I will take only a skeleton crew. Egron will remain here. There is no need to worry, sváss. All will be well.”

“I will use the time to prepare the castle for the coming winter.” She gave him a shaky smile.

Dráddør’s focus shifted to the bed. He winked at her. “I seek now to give you a swiving memory to fill the long nights while I am gone.”

Color rioted all over her face and throat. His gaze strayed to the spot where the scar had been. He laid her down on the covers and sat on the mattress. While unlacing her cyrtel, he inspected her collarbone, and then smoothed his thumb over the pulse leaping in the hollow of her throat. “’Tis as if it ne’er were. Do you recall aught of what happened in the hall?”

“I remember Nyssa setting her fingers there. Then naught, but the dream of what happened the night Magnhildur pierced my neck and stole my voice.” She shuddered.

“She will ne’er harm any again.” Dráddør had chosen to go east as he knew that Godfraid must take that route to travel to Kenneth’s court. ’Twould be a simple detour and the perfect vengeance. ’Twas the time of year when storms frequented the channel and all he had to do was wait for a squall, separate Godfraid’s main boat from the two others, and sink the vessel.

But ’twas not the moment for dwelling on vengeance. Nay, ’twas the time to give Xára a babe. He grinned. And if his seed didn’t bear fruit on this joining, he had many a long winter’s night to correct that.

Xára peeked at him when he stood and disarmed. After he pulled off his tunic she stared at his chest with such fervor in her eyes that he preened. ’Twas quick work to shed his boots and breeches.

Her gaze dropped to his jutting erection and she licked her lips.

Dráddør groaned. “What think you right now?”

Twin splashes of color dusted her cheekbones. “’Tis wet.”

He fingered the seed leaking from his slit and spread the liquid all over the crown of his cock. “Aye. It means that I want you, Xára. Sit up and take off your gown.”

She gave him an uncertain sidelong glance, but obeyed his command.

The sight of her in the transparent chemise nigh did him in. He stroked his pecker and slid the foreskin up over the head and then back down.

Her eyes followed his hand’s motion. “Come closer.”

She lifted onto her knees and scooted to the edge of the bed.

“Put your hand o’er mine,” he ordered. “Aye. Like that. Now stroke me.”

When she gave his cock a tentative rub, he let his hand fall away.

Unable to do anything but stare at her lithe fingers on his shaft, he said, his voice hoarse with need, “Stroke. Up and down.”

She shifted closer and added her other hand. Her curls tumbled about her shoulders and tickled his groin. He fisted his hands when she adjusted her grip. She worried her lower lip and peeped up at him. “’Tis the right way?”

“Aye,” he grunted and sucked in a breath when she cupped his balls. “Nay.”

He captured her wrists. “Enough. ’Tis the sweetest torture, but I want to spill my seed inside you, not on the sheets.”

Grinning when her eyes widened, he kissed the center of her palm. “Ask. I can see the question forming on your lips.”

“’Tis possible?” Their gazes met.

“’Tis a certainty. My stones are aching.”

“Stones?” She glanced down, tugged her hands out of his hold, and cupped his balls again. “These are stones?”

“Stones, balls, sac, testicles, nuts,” As he spoke each word, she weighed his testicles and squeezed each one lightly.

His desire flamed. He fumbled with her chemise and when the garment refused to cooperate simply tore it down the middle. He palmed her arse and growled, “Wrap your legs around me when I lift you.”

She gasped when he fitted his cock to her sex, but arched to accommodate him.