Viking Warrior, Unwilling Wife

She watched with grim satisfaction as Vikar struggled for words.

‘Hafdan led a raid. He was stopped. I intend to have no more raiding parties threaten Viken. Thorkell will support me. I am the new jaarl of the north.’

Sela closed her eyes. Hafdan. She should have guessed. Vikar was correct. Thorkell would not support her father, would not send his men to avenge the raid. ‘And what happened to Hafdan?’

‘He perished as all vermin do.’ A muscle in Vikar’s jaw jumped. ‘He would never have gone anywhere without your father’s orders.’

‘They quarrelled. Hafdan left. Hafdan sailed under his own standard.’ She pressed her hands together. ‘My father and I knew nothing of the raid. He had no intention of bringing war to Viken. Do you mean to sack the hall?’

‘Bose’s lands are among the most profitable in Viken. This hall is fit for a king, let alone a jaarl. Why should I wish to destroy that?’

‘And my people? What will happen to them?’

‘Provided they show their loyalty to their new master, life will continue on as before.’

Sela dropped her head to her chest and felt a lump form in her throat. She would not have to watch her home burn, see the crops ploughed under and then have Vikar and his men leave. Her people would be spared that.

‘And what will become of me?’ she asked in a small voice, unable to stop herself

‘You are a problem I had not anticipated. Your father should have taken better care of you. He should have ensured your protection, rather than have you take charge of a rabble such as the one my men and I faced.’

‘It was my choice. My father did not have any say in the matter.’

‘Then is your husband amongst the fallen?’ Vikar lifted his eyebrow. ‘You should have said earlier. I send my condolences. Or perhaps it is why Hafdan left?’

‘Having experienced marriage once, and found it not to my liking, I had no great desire to return to the state, particularly not to someone like Hafdan. He was my father’s favourite, not mine.’ Sela kept her head high.

‘Interesting.’ Vikar stroked his chin and his eyes gleamed. ‘It saves me having to put a sword through an innocent man.’

‘Why would you want to do that?’

‘No man should live if he forces his woman to fight.’ A muscle in Vikar’s cheek jumped. ‘You should never have been out there, Sela. Women are made for other pleasures.’

‘Perhaps I have giantess blood like Skathi in the legends. She put on her father’s armour to avenge his death and marched all the way to Aesgard to challenge the gods.’

‘But your father lives.’ He lifted his eyebrows and had the bad grace to appear amused, as if he had caught her playing in her brother’s armour, instead of trying to defend her hall.

‘Things had to be done. A defence had to be made.’

‘But not by you, Sela. Your father was the jaarl. It is to his banner the men flocked.’

‘My father…’ Sela hated the way her voice faltered. She would have to confess the truth about her father’s affliction. ‘My father is ill. He cannot lift his sword. I had no other choice.’

‘If you father is that ill, that afflicted, why did he allow Hafdan to sail away?’

‘Hafdan wanted more—more power, more everything. My father felt that letting him go to Permia would give him the prestige he craved.’

‘Your tales grow more fantastic by the breath.’

Sela fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. He did not believe her. She had told the truth and he did not believe her. ‘It is the truth, even you must see that.’

‘Hafdan left, knowing you were unmarried and your father about to breathe his last?’ He slapped his hand against his thigh. ‘Hafdan always sailed under your father’s orders. He left to war against the Viken. He is now dead and your father’s plot is in ruins. Everything your father valued belongs to me…including you.’

‘What are you planning to do with me?’

‘You are unmarried.’ Vikar took a step towards her. A lazy smile appeared on his face. ‘You need a protector.’

Sela put her hand to her throat as she stepped backwards and felt the chest digging into her legs. ‘What sort of protector?’

His eyes raked her form, lingered on her breasts. ‘You would make an admirable concubine.’

Chapter Three

‘To you?’ Sela’s mouth went dry as the word echoed in her brain. The walls of her father’s chamber appeared to have shrunk, pushing her towards him, towards his hard unyielding body.

Unbidden, a memory of the last time they had joined assaulted her senses, the way his hands had stroked her body, playing it as expertly as he played the lyre, how his mouth had drawn the cry from her throat as the two reached their peak at the same time. She pushed it away, back in a place where she never ventured. She refused to remember what it was like before his betrayal, before she had learnt the truth. She forced her lip to curl.

‘I will pass, thank you very much.’

‘A challenge? You know I am never one to resist a challenge.’ A hint of laughter echoed in his voice. Sela remembered when that particular sound had sent shivers of delight down her spine. Such things had vanished years ago, along with her girlish illusions. She had grown in the four years since she had last seen him, become a different person. And the person she had become would not be attracted to him and his easy charm.

‘A refusal.’ She crossed her arms over her breasts, stared into his eyes and forced her lips to smile. ‘Surely by now, you must know the difference.’

A muscle in Vikar’s cheek jumped and his body grew still. Sela swallowed hard. Had she gone too far? A tiny shiver passed over her. She took a step backwards and tried to look somewhere other than at the green flame flickering in the depths of his eyes.

Vikar’s hands closed around her upper arms. He hauled her towards him until their bodies collided. The softness of her curves met the unyielding strength of his muscle.

‘Are you saying we were not good together? I seem to recall differently.’

He lowered his lips, captured hers, plundered them with expertise. His mouth drew the breath from her body, replaced it with a growing heat. Her body began to melt. A soft sigh escaped from her throat. His arms came around her, cradled her firmly against his body as her lips gave way under the onslaught.

Practised. Planned. Cynical.

Sela pushed against his chest with her last ounce of resolution, controlled her breathing and his arms fell away. Cool air encircled her as she sought to regain control of her breathing. Even in that brief span of time, her lips ached, longed for the warmth of his touch again, but she forced her body to remember how he had trampled her heart in the dust. She hoped he had missed her response.

‘My point proved.’ He inclined his head and a dimple flashed in the corner of his mouth. ‘We were good together. You and I.’

‘There is more to marriage than sexual attraction.’

‘Agreed, but it does help.’ He ran a finger down her cheek, and another pulse of warmth went unbidden through her. ‘It makes everything easier, less complicated.’

‘Our marriage died a long time ago.’ Sela jerked her head away. ‘It cannot be remade.’

‘I don’t believe I offered marriage. I simply stated the obvious.’ His eyes hardened. ‘You need a protector.’

Sela crossed her arms over her aching breasts. She gave a short laugh. Brittle and too high pitched. She swallowed hard and tried again.

‘I agree—I need protecting…from you and men like you. Men who use and discard women.’ A small sense of satisfaction filled her as Vikar’s jaw tightened. The barb had hit home. Good. She waited another heartbeat, then continued, making sure her voice dripped honey. ‘And you? What does your new wife think of your adventures? Is she more accommodating? How many concubines do you keep?’

Sela sought to keep control of her emotions. She was over him. She had to remember what he was like. She had seen the evidence, seen them with their heads together, laughing over some quip, her hand touching his cheek. It had been a knife in her heart.

His lips twisted into a sardonic smile.

‘I have yet to remarry.’ He gave a slight bow. ‘Like you, my first experience left a bitter taste, but Thorkell keeps trying to convince me that marriage is a worthy state. Apparently I need children tumbling about my hall, like young puppies. Haakon agrees. He says it will change my life. The touch of my own flesh and blood clutching my finger.’

Sela’s heart constricted and she shifted uneasily. How could she explain, if he did not know? How could she tell him about his son? How could she have Kjartan torn from her? She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hand.

‘And Asa? What does she say on the subject?’ The words slipped out before she could stop them—anything to keep away from the potentially disastrous subject of children. It was only when they echoed through the chamber that Sela realised how mean spirited they must sound.

‘Asa understands my reasoning.’ The green in his eyes grew cold. ‘It was a deep regret of hers that you two never became friends.’

Sela tightened her lips. Asa had had no intention of ever being friends with Sela all those years ago. She had taken great delight in humiliating her, pointing out her every mistake, laughing at her dress sense, shaking her head in mock despair at Sela’s unsophisticated ways. It was only when Sela discovered Asa’s love token beside her bed that she had known the truth. But that was in the past. And the past was finished. There was no return. There was only the future.

‘I do not want to make a rash decision. Can I have some time to think about your generous offer?’ Sela nodded towards the hall as the shouts of the men grew louder. ‘Your men will need your expert direction about what to steal.’

Vikar looked at her for a long time. Suddenly his green eyes blazed. ‘There can only be one answer, Sela.’

‘There is always more than one answer in life, Vikar. Haven’t you learnt that by now?’

‘I have bandied words with you for long enough.’

His hand closed around her arm, and he led her to the little room where her father did his accounts.

‘Why have you taken me here?’

‘It is a place for you to be alone. A place where I know there are no secret passages—only one entrance and exit.’ He gave a small nod of satisfaction. ‘And the lock is complex. You need to turn the key three times.’

Sela gritted her teeth. Vikar had neatly trapped her. There would be no escape from here. ‘My father gave you too many confidences. How will I get released from here? What must I do?’

‘It will be your choice, Sela. Just as it was your choice to end our marriage. But you have a protector.’

‘And if my father is found?’

‘You will become his responsibility, not mine.’

With that, he swung the door and Sela heard the lock click into place. She sank to the floor and put her head on her knees.

How long until Vikar discovered that she was hiding more than her father?

‘Bose the Dark escaped into the woods,’ Ivar reported when Vikar returned to the dragon ships. ‘It has been confirmed by three of our men.’

The shoreline remained littered with fallen bodies and armour. Vikar shook his head. So much waste. All for what? Sela had to have known that she stood no chance with her host of ill-prepared and badly equipped men.

Why had she fought? Why had her father let her fight while he had escaped? The image of Sela standing there, proud yet vulnerable in her borrowed armour, was one that would haunt him for ever. He should have seen, should have realised earlier. Thankfully, Odin had allowed him to reach her before she had been injured.

‘Who has gone in the search party? How many men did you send?’ Vikar glanced towards the dark forest. He knew the answer from Ivar’s slightly shifting stance.

‘By the time I had received word, he and his party were long gone.’ Ivar fingered the jagged scar that ran down the right side of his face, but did not meet Vikar’s eyes. ‘Our men would not have stood a chance in those trees. It is the realm of the wild men. I know the tales of how Bose the Dark subdued them, but they still lurk out there.’

‘Bose the Dark has spread many tales. Remember, this hall was supposed to be impossible to conquer.’ Vikar gave a satisfied smile. ‘I stopped believing in such things about the time I discovered a woman’s chest makes a soft pillow on which to lay my head.’

‘And I am sure many women would willingly provide that pillow.’

‘Not all.’ Vikar pressed his lips together and glanced towards where Sela was imprisoned. ‘I have no illusions, old friend.’

‘But you have proved luckier than most. Your bed is always warm. Whereas a man like me…’

‘Some might say that.’ Vikar stared over his friend’s shoulder.

There was little point in shattering Ivar’s illusions. Vikar’s bed had been cold for weeks, months. He wanted something more than the physical release, something indefinable. The succession of bedfellows, amiable as they were, did nothing for him, except increase his sense of dissatisfaction, his sense that there was a huge gaping hole in his life. He felt more in that brief kiss with Sela than he had done with any of his recent bed-companions.

Vikar turned his thoughts away from the memory of Sela’s lips trembling under his. Now was not the time for such things. He had an elusive jaarl to find, one who would employ every trick he could to stay one step ahead. One who would retake the hall and bring devastation to Viken if he could. A wounded animal was often the most dangerous. An old saying, but a true one.

‘How many men have you sent after Bose the Dark?’

‘None.’ Ivar banged his fists together. ‘I have no wish to send men on a fool’s errand. The pathways in that forest are many. He could be anywhere.’

‘Find a guide.’

‘None of his men will go. I tried threatening them. Offering gold. They are a poor lot, no spirit in them.’ Ivar hooked his thumbs around his sword belt. ‘And I would not trust them either. There is some mischief here that I don’t understand.’

Vikar gave a nod. Ivar was right. They needed someone they could trust to send them in the right direction, someone who would lead them directly to Bose. He would discover the truth of what was happening on Thorkell’s northern border and he would ensure peace. Bose the Dark had to see that his time of mischief-making was over. ‘Bose is obviously making for a sanctuary, a place where he can regroup or call in favours from other jaarls.’

‘But why would he leave his daughter?’ Ivar said. ‘Surely he must know her value as a hostage, if he should try to regain any of his land.’

‘It is the one piece of the puzzle I don’t understand,’ Vikar admitted. ‘Bose the Dark’s devotion to his family is legendary. Why did he deliberately put her in danger?’

‘Perhaps he grew tired of her and her demands. His daughter is reputed to be quite strong-willed and unmanageable.’

Strong-willed was an understatement. Stubborn beyond any sense was a better description. Her earlier refusal rankled. He had felt her lips move against his, her body begin to arch towards him. She was not as indifferent as she pretended. He had not mistaken the passion they had once shared. They would share it again, and he would be the one to do the leaving.

‘It is a possibility.’ Vikar rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. ‘But what I am more worried about is the remainder of Bose’s men. We are vulnerable to attack should he succeed in contacting one of his allies.’

‘Our situation?’ Ivar ran his hand through his hair. ‘Only two of our number made it to Valhalla. The other injuries are not life threatening. Surely it is a cause for celebration.’

‘Our victory was too easy.’ Vikar shook his head. ‘It was almost as if he wanted us to win. How quickly could he raise support?’

‘Would that all our fights were that easy! The gods were with us, but we did fight, Vikar.’

Vikar stared out towards the fjord. The water lapped at the ships. Had he inadvertently led his men into another one of Bose the Dark’s traps? Would he be the one defeated? He who had so proudly proclaimed that Bose could no longer manipulate him. Unthinkable, and yet the prickling sensation at the back of his neck refused to go. He had to find a way to discover Bose and force his surrender. While he was out there in the blackness, his men remained in danger. Bose had to formally surrender and accept him as the master of this hall. ‘It is not over yet.’

‘How so? We fought, they died. We won. It is the end.’ Ivar clapped his hand against Vikar’s back. ‘Stop seeing shadows where there are none. Our men deserve a victory feast.’

‘That army was commanded by a woman and the warriors were either past their best or untried. Someone wanted us to win here today. Someone knew we were coming.’ Vikar’s hand went instinctively to the hilt of his dagger.

Ivar’s face showed his utter dismay. He glanced backwards as if he expected to see another host rising from the forest. He let out a soft sigh as the dark pines and birches remained devoid of life.

‘What do you intend to do?’

‘Find Bose. He is the key to unlocking this problem.’

‘Find him?’ Ivar’s eyes opened and his beard quivered. ‘He is in the forest, I tell you—he and two others—a woman and a child.’

‘So there were others. You should have told me to begin with. There will be a reason for that child.’

‘It is why they were let through,’ Ivar explained. ‘The old man looked harmless, leaning on his stick, and his face half-covered with a cloak. It was only after he was gone that someone noticed the resemblance. It had to be him—we have searched everywhere else.’

‘It will have been him.’ A faint breeze ruffled Vikar’s hair. The currents in this hall ran deep. He knew that nothing was ever straightforward. Sela knew far more than she was letting on. She would go to her father, if she could. She had always run to him after their fights.

‘Why would he have a child with him?’

It was not a question Vikar cared to answer or even speculate on.

What was the child to Bose the Dark? A shield and ruse or something more? The answers could only come from one source.

‘Bose has always been known for his personal bravery. If he can walk, he can fight. He remains a danger. Everything he does is for one purpose only—his personal gain and glory.’

‘But how are you going to find him?’ Ivar tapped a finger against his mouth. ‘No one knows where he has gone.’

‘Sela does.’ Vikar nodded back towards the hall, towards where she was imprisoned. ‘And she is going to try to reach him, if I allow her.’

‘How can you be sure of that?’ Ivar’s eyes widened. ‘Women are unreliable creatures.’

‘Sela reveres her father. She will go.’ Vikar permitted a smile to cross his face as he remembered Sela’s reaction to his suggestion. Concubine to a jaarl. Most women would have taken a pragmatic approach. But Sela made it seem as if he threatened to send her to the frost giants. ‘I have given her every incentive to go. I know the woman well. She will escape and I will be with her, dogging her footsteps.’

‘And how will you make certain you don’t lose her? I heard that when she divorced you, she vanished into thin air.’

Vikar gazed up at the sky—a hazy blue, signalling it was late in the day. The sun would not properly set this far north. He preferred not to think about that day when he had gone back to their lodging and discovered Sela gone. Later Hafdan had taunted him, beaten him. Vikar fingered his long healed jaw. He had learnt a lot since that day. It was then that he had lost his illusions, and had begun to grow up.

‘She escaped me once, but she will not again.’ The muscles in his neck tightened. ‘We must work out how many will guard the hall and what needs to be done to repair its defences. Bose has become lax in recent years.’

‘The men deserve a feast. They will want to sample the spoils. You seek to deny them their right.’

‘We feast tonight, and tomorrow you begin the work. This hall will not fall so easily again. I will find Bose. I promise you that.’

‘Very good, Vikar.’ Ivar adjusted his sword belt. ‘Can I help you with your problem? Is there anything more you need?’

‘Allow me to handle my former wife, my own way.’ Vikar put his hand on the hilt of his sword. ‘I have planted the seed. Let us see how she reacts to a bit more subtle persuasion.’

Concubine? To Vikar? After what had passed between them? He was determined to humiliate her. Determined to show the world his total mastery of her and her world.

Sela shook her head in amazement. Even now, some time after Vikar had locked her in the blackness of her father’s room, her lips ached slightly, giving lie to her declaration that she felt nothing for him. His final words circled around her brain, making it impossible for her to think of anything else.

Join with him? Willingly? Again?

Surely he had not been serious? He was trying to worry her, to make her act without thinking. He would offer some other man and then expect her to fall on her knees in gratitude. It would be entirely like him.

The man was insupportable. And there was no way of escape from this particular room except through the door.

Sela stamped her foot and felt a floorboard give way slightly. She sank down on the hard ground and her fingers searched for a bit of purchase. She tugged and pulled. The board gave way without warning, and she flew backwards, landing on her bottom. Gingerly Sela reached into the cavity, felt around the narrow space. Her fingertips touched the hilt of a dagger.

Hurriedly, Sela withdrew it and stuffed it into the waistband of her trousers. She felt better now that she was armed. She shrugged out of the chain mail and let that fall to the floor with a thump. Immediately her shoulders and back became lighter. Whatever happened, she had no intention of wearing that cumbersome piece of clothing again.

She bit her lip, trying to come up with some semblance of an escape plan. Vikar knew the ways of the hall as well as her father.

In those happy days when they were first married, she had taken great delight in showing him some of the secrets. Not all—thankfully there had not been time to show him where the safe houses were. It was always something she was going to do some day, but then their marriage had fallen apart.

She stretched her limbs.

Had it ever really begun?

Vikar had been a skilful lover and she, young and untried. Her body had responded to his skilled touch, but he had not cared for her. She had been naïve, overwhelmed that such a great warrior would want her. They had barely known each other. It had been a political match and it had been unfortunate that she had imagined otherwise.

The only part of the marriage she did not regret was Kjartan.

The door creaked, and Sela lifted her head, every nerve on alert. Her hand reached for the dagger, but she resisted the temptation. She’d wait, and only attack if provoked.

‘Who goes there?’

‘Vikar sent me.’

An unfamiliar giant of a man put a plate of dry bread, a mug of ale and a small rush light down on the floor near her, but not so near that she was tempted to rush him, and then backed away.

‘Why have you brought me these?’

‘Vikar says you are to eat. He will not have you starving.’ The guard leered before throwing a fur at her feet. ‘And he does not want you to be cold. You should sleep; soon you will not get much rest.’

‘How very generous of him.’

She examined the guard from where she sat. The man resembled an over-fed ox. Vikar had chosen well. She would have to trust Loki that another less obvious way to escape would appear.

The guard made another bow and slammed the door shut. Sela waited for the sound of the lock clicking into place. But there was only one click. Then the sound of heavy footsteps retreating, going out of the room.