Taken by the Viking

‘Burn the buildings. This is like any other raid, Thrand,’ Haakon replied. ‘Gather what you can. We shall feast well once we return to our lands.’

He refused to feel anything for these men. There would be no place in Valhalla for them or wherever their God sent warriors. These were no warriors. Children knew how to handle swords better. This priory was undefended.

‘Watch your back!’

Several burly Priory guards advanced towards him, but Thrand reached them first, and they clashed swords. These knew what they were on about, Haakon thought as the swords clashed and clashed again. He sent one spinning to the ground and Thrand dispatched the rest.

‘You could almost make a berserker in ferocity, Thrand.’

The younger man lifted his sword. ‘Killing brings me no pleasure, Haakon. You know that. I differ from Bjorn in that respect.’

‘Have you seen Bjorn?’

‘Not since the fighting began. How stupid of those men to attack us with a puny dagger and not expect us to defend our honour.’

‘I would have preferred that Bjorn waited for my orders.’

‘You were the one who had him stand next to you.’ Thrand gave a shrug. ‘Bjorn is a dangerous man—to friend and foe alike when the blood madness hits.’

‘He would never attack one of the felag. He has given his blood-oath.’

‘So you say. There were rumours two summers ago about Bjorn breaking an oath, but I never believed them.’ Thrand gave the chest another shove. ‘You are in charge of this expedition and I have no wish to challenge for the leadership. Bjorn is your responsibility.’

Haakon rubbed the back of his neck, silently acknowledging the truth of Thrand’s words. Bjorn was a danger to everyone, and to himself. Now, all he had to do was to find Bjorn and bring him back from the madness that had engulfed him. They had sworn loyalty to each other, but he knew what Bjorn could do when he was engulfed in his blood-lust.

‘Bjorn,’ he called. ‘Bjorn, the day is ours. It is time to divide the spoils.’

Annis crouched behind the makeshift pile of a bed, mattress, chests and the table. Her plaits had come loose as she frantically worked, and her hair now tumbled freely down her back.

Waiting, hoping. She scarcely dared breathed.

Thus far, there had been no other sound but the one creak of the stair. A false alarm or something more sinister?

Had the attacker left the building?

Wisps of smoke swirled in the air, making it difficult to breathe properly and stinging Annis’s eyes. Her muscles complained from moving the furniture in front of the door. Mildreth had not helped with the building of the heap, but sat stony faced, rocking back and forth as she guarded Annis’s meagre store of possessions.

Annis offered another prayer up to God, but she feared He was not listening. God had turned His face from them and left them to their fate as warning to the others. That is what her uncle would say if he had lived.

How could the death of her uncle and the other brothers please God? Her uncle had been revered by all. His piety was well known, and his wisdom respected. Now he was dead and his blood spilt on the golden sand.

She stared at the knife in her hands.

‘I will protect you,’ she whispered to Mildreth, who gave no sign of having heard her. ‘I promise.’

The door to room jangled, rocked.

She froze. Her breath stuck in her throat. Would the attacker go away, seeking easier prey?

Then it crashed open with a sickening thump as if the bed and other things were but dry sticks.

A great beast of a man strode in. His axe dripped blood. His skins were splattered with many dark stains. Annis’s blood turned cold. This was her uncle’s killer.

Behind his helmet, his eyes glinted yellow. His teeth were drawn back in a snarl.

Help me! Annis sank farther back into the shadows.

The beast-man regarded the room, searching. The shutter flapped open and closed. His eyes narrowed, his attention caught.

Please let him think we escaped.

The beast-man gave a grunt and turned to go. Annis’s heart leapt. Against all reason, they would be saved.

Go. Leave. Depart, she willed.

A whimper escaped Mildreth’s lips. The beast started. Breathing heavily, he turned. This time he did not miss where Mildreth crouched.

An evil smile crossed his features and he lovingly stroked his axe.

‘Bjorn, here I find you.’ Haakon advanced into the narrow upstairs room. There had been quite a fight as the furniture lay scattered. ‘There is nothing here. Whoever was here has departed—long ago.’

He froze. The berserker started to slowly advance towards a cowering woman. In the other corner, another woman with luminous eyes crouched amongst the shadows. She put her fingers to her lips as her eyes pleaded with him. Haakon’s jaw tightened. There was no honour in killing defenceless women.

‘We have everything we came for and more. Time to depart, Bjorn. Before the tide changes.’ Haakon kept his voice steady. He had to bring Bjorn back from this madness.

No reaction from Bjorn. Just the slow, steady advance. Haakon willed the woman to move and save herself while he held Bjorn’s attention. But she cowered on the ground like a scared rabbit.

‘The gold has been secured, Bjorn Bjornson. Time to go.’

Bjorn swung his large head around and regarded Haakon as if he had never seen him before. His gaze appeared to become fastened on Haakon’s sword. An unearthly light appeared in Bjorn’s eyes.

Blood and spittle surrounded Bjorn’s mouth as he advanced towards Haakon, swinging his axe.

Haakon stood still. Bjorn had to realise who he was. They had shared many adventures together. Bjorn had never before been this far gone in the madness of the berserker.

‘Bjorn, it is I, Haakon, your Jaarl. Stay true to your oath. Come back to me.’

Something appeared in Bjorn’s eyes. He checked the movement of his axe. Haakon gave an encouraging nod, beckoning him forward. He had done it.

Bjorn’s eyes became fixated on Haakon’s sword, blazing with an unholy light. Madness descended again as he licked his lips.

Bjorn lifted his axe. Haakon dodged to the right, raising his shield to meet the axe. He felt the reverberation go up his arm. Bjorn drew back and tried again.

‘I am your shipmate, Bjorn.’ Haakon held out his hands and kept his voice soft, like a woman crooning to her baby. ‘We swore an oath on Thor and Odin. Our blood mingled. You are a member of the felag.’

But the berserker gave no sign. The scent of blood had driven him into a red fury. And the only thing he understood was killing. A great roar emerged from the depths of his being.

Haakon raised his shield again and heard it crack as Bjorn hit it with his axe.

Annis watched the barbarian warrior fight the other. His sword clashed with the axe several times. It made no sense that they should fight, but it was distracting the beast-man.

‘Run, Mildreth, run now. The pigsty! I will meet you there!’

The maid needed no second urging. She darted behind the warrior. Mildreth’s feet clipped his and he stumbled slightly. His shield crashed to the floor and his sword slipped from his grasp. He lay there, defenceless.

Annis knew she, too, should run, but her legs refused to move. She had to go. This was her best chance to escape. She should go now, but still the barbarian warrior lay there.

This warrior had saved Mildreth’s life and probably hers. Now he was in mortal danger. And once he was dead, the beast-man would come after her.

The beast-man advanced towards where the warrior lay on the ground, breathing heavily. He stopped and gazed at the man. A slow smile spread over his face as his tongue licked his lips.

Annis forgot to breathe.

The beast-man’s skins gaped open at the base of his throat as he lifted his axe for the final blow.

Chapter Two

Annis hurtled herself forward from her hiding place, her dagger curving upwards. She had this one chance, this one opening.

She had to do it.

The beast-man turned slightly at her approach. The knife slid easily into his throat. Blood spurted from his mouth as a look of surprise engulfed him. Her hand jolted from the impact and she felt her fingers slip from the knife.

Annis landed on the hard body of the fallen warrior. Instantly, she felt his arms go around and pull her body under his in one swift motion. Protecting her. A muttered curse was whispered in her ear as she struggled to breathe.

A great crash resounded in her ears as the beast-man toppled to the floor, narrowly missing them both.

As Annis lay there underneath the warrior, she noticed the tiny stone against her back and the long, hard length of him, their breath intermingling. She could see the dark stubble on his chin and the brilliance of his blue eyes. Everything in a heartbeat. Then the rush of air as he stood up.

A warm hand engulfed hers, pulling her to her feet. His blue eyes held a look of concern. Annis stood there, hanging on to the hand as she gazed at the fallen figure with blood silently pooling beneath him.

Her aim had been true!

She turned her head into the warrior’s chain-mailed chest and rested it there, drawing strength from him. His strong arm encircled her. Distantly she could hear the roar of battle and crackle of fire, but closer she heard the thump of his heart. Gradually what she had done sank in.

She had killed. The beast-man was dead, dead by her hand!

Annis pushed against the warrior’s chest and immediately his hands loosened. She staggered a few steps and sank down on an upturned bucket, trying to regain control of her body as shudders went through her.

The smoke-filled air stung her eyes and throat. She should go now, flee and try to get across the causeway, but when she stood, her legs refused to move. If she took another step, she’d sink to her knees.

‘I was sick after my first time.’ A low rumble of a voice filled the room. It was a comforting sort of noise, and flowed over her like fine linen.

Annis glanced over her shoulder at the warrior. Had he spoken? Surely she was hearing things. Such a man would not speak Latin. Heathen raiders such as he did not speak the language of the church. She had to be hearing things. Was that what killing people did? Made you hear voices in your mind? She put her hands to her ears and shook her head to clear it.

The warrior took off his helmet and his dark hair was plastered to his forehead. He was tall, powerfully built with broad shoulders. He ran a hand over the dark stubble on his face.

Annis started. The man she’d saved was the pagan warlord she had seen earlier, the one who had quarrelled with her uncle, the one who was responsible for the attack. She wanted to put her face in her hands and weep. She had saved her uncle’s destroyer. If she had realised, she would have fled as Mildreth had done. She regarded her hands, wondering what he would do now, what he was capable of.

‘You saved my life,’ he said in Latin with only the faintest trace of an accent—not unpleasant, just different. ‘I, Haakon Haroldson, Jaarl of Viken, am in your debt.’

Annis blinked. She had not heard wrong. This raider spoke Latin as well as, if not better than, a Northumbrian noble.

‘Is he dead?’ she asked in Latin. Annis stared at the prone figure.

‘I fear so.’ Something like sorrow crossed his face. He bent down and turned the beast-man face up, muttered something and then closed the beast-man’s unseeing eyes. ‘Bjorn was a fierce fighter. We shall miss him. Great will be the celebrations in Valhalla tonight.’

‘He tried to kill you. And you regret his death.’ Annis stared incredulously at the warrior. ‘How can that be?’

Haakon regarded the woman in front of him. Her dark hair flowed down her back. She was dressed in a simple dark green gown without ornaments, none of the jewellery so beloved of his stepmother or Queen Asa and the ladies of the Viken court. Her sea-green eyes were wide and he could see the trembling starting to set in. This woman had never killed before.

Was she real or one of the Valkyries—the warrior women who scavenged the battlefield for fighters worthy of Valhalla?

‘He was a great warrior, a berserker.’ Haakon looked at Bjorn’s trusty axe.

How many times had he killed? How many men’s lives had he saved with the unhesitating strokes of his axe?

It was unthinkable Bjorn should behave like this, to end his life by breaking his oath and deliberately attacking a member of the felag, his sworn leader. Haakon shook his head. No, Bjorn had to have been too far gone in his blood-lust. He had no idea of what he had attempted to do.

‘A berserker?’

‘He lived for fighting.’ Haakon attempted to think of the Latin words to describe Bjorn, but decided there were none. ‘He was a great warrior.’

She nodded, but her expression remained unconvinced.

Haakon regarded the fallen man. There were many among the fellowship who would seek to kill her for what she had done, demand her blood in retribution for killing a warrior such as Bjorn. He followed the warriors’ code but her actions had saved his life. This was by far the bigger debt.

‘You are under my protection, Valkyrie.’ Haakon rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Tell me what happened here. What did you do to provoke Bjorn?’

She shook her head, and started to back away. Her bottom touched the window ledge and she stopped. She held out her hands and her eyes grew big. ‘I saved your life.’

Something inside Haakon twisted. She expected death. He was not so far gone that he would kill a woman in cold blood.

‘That is why you are under my protection. No harm will come to you.’ Haakon inclined his head. ‘Bjorn was valuable to my people. You must understand this. No one thought he could be killed, least of all by a woman.’

‘He was going to kill you, this…this berserker of yours, after my maid caused you to trip and fall. I did what I would have done for anyone.’ Her voice rose slightly. She scrambled to bring together a few jewels and held them out. ‘Let me go. Leave me here. Take these and go.’

Haakon stared at the slender woman in disbelief. He pushed the jewels away.

Did she realise the penalties? Did she not understand what was happening out there?

When he and his men had finished, no building would remain standing. They had not come seeking this fight, but they refused to turn away from a challenge. The next time, the people of this island might not be so eager to resist the legitimate demands of the Viken. No more would they tolerate those who lied, cheated and attempted to abuse their goodwill. The felag had come to trade, but had found a war.

Her body shook and the area around her mouth was pale. She reminded him of a highly strung horse. He wanted to tame her, to make her understand, so she would be able to live.

‘Where are your warriors?’

‘My warriors?’

‘Yes, the men who would look after you. Such a prize as yourself would not be left unguarded.’

‘All the men here are engaged in fighting you and your kind.’

He gestured towards the small window. ‘Out there, it is a scene from the end of the world. You do not wish to be there.’

‘You are not giving me the option?’ Her green eyes blazed defiantly. ‘It was not me or my people who started this fight. I will go now.’

She started to move past him, but Haakon reached out his hand and held her firmly, preventing her from moving. He could see her heart beating at the base of her throat.

‘If I let you go, you will lose your life. There are others like my friend out there…on both sides.’

Annis angrily tore her arm away. ‘I shall take my chances.’

‘Trust me.’

‘The Abbot was cut down, destroyed with one blow of this man’s axe, and you stood by.’ She choked back the words ‘my uncle’. It would not do for him to discover who she was. ‘I saw you. You were in charge of your warriors. He bid you welcome. You and you alone have brought death and destruction here.’

‘Where were you?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘I failed to notice any woman in the welcoming party. Perhaps your Latin is not as good as you would like to believe. We came in peace and were attacked. As I told the Abbot, we only wanted the gold due to us, the gold promised. It was a monk who attacked first.’

‘I watched from the window. The Abbot was…was a good man.’

‘His death was regrettable. As you have killed the man who struck him, perhaps you will consider it avenged.’ Haakon ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. ‘We came wanting the coin owed for our fur and amber, and offering our services for protection. Good men fell today for no reason.’

‘Yes, they did.’ Annis’s throat closed. She refused to cry in front of Haakon, this barbarian who had saved her. Later she’d mourn her uncle and the rest of those who had fallen. Now she had to plan a way of escaping him and alerting the lords of the nearby estates to the danger of these raiders.

The smell of smoke increased and the floorboards became warm underneath her feet. She heard the slight crackle of fire.

‘We must move and get away from this place. My men have orders to set fire to all the buildings.’

‘I would rather die than move.’ Annis placed her hands on her knees and wondered how she could walk a few steps.

‘You will die, if you do not do as you are told.’ A faint, sardonic smile crossed his lips. ‘And you lie.’

‘How so?’ She tilted her head. How dare this barbarian Jaarl provoke her with his insolent speech!

‘You have already shown you have a great desire to live. You will come with me and I will get you to a place of safety.’

Annis swallowed hard. She had made one gigantic mistake today. She should have left Haakon to face his own man. But he was correct. She had to go. Her only hope was that she could somehow escape when they were outside. She would have to watch for her chance and be prepared to run and hide. She swallowed hard, hating him. ‘I will do as you say…for now.’

‘You will do as I say if you want to live to an old age.’ His voice hardened. ‘We go.’

Annis started to gather up her belongings. Her hand hovered over her mirror, now scratched.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting my things.’

‘You will not need them.’ Haakon bent and retrieved her dagger and cleaned it before he held out it to her. ‘But you will need this.’

She regarded it with suspicion. Exactly what was he intending? He knew she had killed with it before. She could use it to escape. Before he could change his mind, she grasped the dagger and tucked it into her belt.

His hand closed around her wrist. ‘Do I carry you or do you walk?’

‘I walk.’

He went first down the stairs, his sword in front of them, stopping to check at corners. When they emerged, the sky was black, the air oozed smoke. The scene in front of them was what hell must look like. Annis regarded the piles of looted bounty that stood at various points with revulsion. Tapestries from her uncle’s solarium, broken jewel-encrusted crosses and chests of gold. A pile of vellum and codex books burnt in the centre courtyard. A lump of tears formed in her throat and she used the back of her hand to wipe across her eyes. All that learning and knowledge gone. She wanted to rush in and pull the burning bibles from the fire, but Haakon’s hand held her wrist firmly. There was no escape.

More than anything, the scene brought her predicament home to her. This was not some night fancy from which she’d awake to see the smiling face of her nurse. Everything on Lindisfarne had been wilfully and wantonly destroyed. The world had changed. Irrevocably.

Annis started when Haakon did not lead her towards the boats or the others. Instead, he headed towards a small knoll a little way away from the scenes of the destruction.

Here the air was clearer, although the sun shone red through the haze of smoke. A few rocks provided a bit of rough shelter and the cries and crashing were a distant blur of noise. Overhead a seagull circled, oblivious to chaos and confusion below.

Haakon’s fingers loosened on Annis’s wrist, freeing her. She stood rubbing her wrist, not quite understanding why he had brought her here. He walked around the rocks in silence, then made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat.

‘You will be safe here. Wait until my men and I have left and then go across the causeway. Quickly. Never look back. Return to your home.’

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘A life for a life.’ He put his hand under her chin. ‘Here we say goodbye, Valkyrie.’

Annis blinked back the sudden hot tears. He was freeing her. She had thought she was a captive and he had set her free. She knew she should move away from him. His fingers were no more than the gentlest of touches on her chin.

‘Goodbye, Haakon Haroldson, Jaarl of Viken,’ she whispered with her lips a mere breath away from his.

‘You can do better than that.’

Without warning, he lowered his mouth to hers, covered it. One brief meeting of lips, firm but gentle. Her body swayed towards his, and his arms came around her, drawing her into the hard, muscular planes of his body. The nature of the kiss grew, intensified, becoming hot and searing like the flames that engulfed Lindisfarne.

Her knees weakened and she held him tightly, her hands clinging to his leather armour, savouring the feel of his mouth roaming over hers. Then it was over, and he had put her away. She stared at him, dazed as she watched his wide chest heave as if he had run a race. She knew her breathing must match his. All this from one kiss. She struggled to take a normal breath, to stop her blood from feeling as if it were on fire.

‘If all the Valkyries were like you, I would welcome Valhalla.’ Haakon nodded and turned his back, without waiting for her reply. He wanted no hesitation. What he was doing was the right thing.

Haakon forced himself to march away from the woman.

It was the simplest way. She would be safe as long as she stayed there.

He and his men would be gone in a few hours’ time. She could then live her life and he his. He had repaid his life-debt to her. They were even.

Annis’s fingers explored her well-kissed mouth as she watched his tall, broad-shouldered figure disappear into the swirling darkness. Bent, no doubt, on some other mission of destruction.

Did he have to be so handsome? His kiss had been far more pleasant than Selwyn’s kisses ever had been. Selwyn had always tried to dominate her, but Haakon’s kiss had been gently persuasive. And her body responded.

But he was her enemy. And he had set her free, possibly saving her life. She was sorry that they had to meet like this.

Would it have better to remain in ignorance that such a man existed?

She sank down on the spiky sea-grass and drew her knees up to her chest. She was safe and free. Free to go back home and pick up the pieces of her life. After today, she longed for the safety and solid reassurance of Birdoswald’s stone walls.

The waves hit the red-and-white sailed ships, signalling a change in the tide. The men looked tiny as they moved, carrying chests and crates to the boats. She caught the echoes of their laughter on the wind. How long would it be until they had departed and she could get across the causeway?

A scream rent the air.

The hair on the back of Annis’s neck stood on end. She rushed to the edges of the rocks and looked out, with her dagger in her hand.

No one. A tern circled overhead, opened its beak and screeched again.

She sank down amongst the rocks again, holding her dagger out in front of her, listening. But there was nothing. There had to be nothing. All the while her mind kept returning the promise she had made to Mildreth. She had to hope Mildreth was safe in the pigsty and would wait for her.

She had promised to meet her there. She had to be there.