Desire's Fury (Viking's Fury Book 2) (13 page)

His brother looked surprised. “You want me to stay here?”

“Both of us cannot risk our lives. If I am killed, you must assume the seat of power as jarl. Eva has agreed to marry me. Treat her as the lady of this steading.”

Konal bowed. “I prefer to fight beside you, Brother. But I will do as you command.”

Appreciative of his brother’s obedience, he grasped his forearm. “Be vigilant. The danger is close I think.” Then he turned to Eva and kissed her. “Pray for victory, sweet Eva. Upon my return, I expect you to take vows.”

“So soon?”

“I will not wait another minute.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Yes, milord. Come back to me standing upright like the great warrior you are now.”

He lifted both of her hands to his lips and kissed each one tenderly. “Aye.”

Without hesitation, he mounted a fresh horse a thrall brought to him, and then gestured for his men to follow. The east village was over ten miles away. If they rode hard, they’d reach it within the hour.

*

Eva didn’t mind
the dust the horses kicked up as Roald and his guards rode away. She wanted to keep him in sight as long as she could, just in case he didn’t return alive. Twas the risk she took loving a jarl—a man responsible for the lives of so many. And after what she saw in the pasture and at poor Lamont’s village, she wouldn’t deny her betrothed the right for revenge.

“Come, Eva,” Konal said, gripping her arm. “You should be with the other women. This is no place for our future lady.”

She gazed at him with genuine interest. “I am sorry we did not have a chance to speak sooner.”

“As am I.”

“Your wife is strong-willed, a true fighter.”

“I owe you much for saving her.”

“I didn’t save her, milord. I am a servant to my gods and ancestors. They deserve the credit.”

He nodded. “Then I praise your gods and people for their mercy.”

“What about us?”

“Didn’t my brother explain how I felt?”

“Yes. But I prefer to hear your words.”

“I understand,” Konal said. “Just as Roald’s anger got the best of him, I, too, allowed my emotions to blind me. If anyone should have been sympathetic to your presence here, I should have been that man. I apologize for insulting you, Lady Eva. It will not happen again.”

“I accept your apology, sir. We are to be family soon. And I would enjoy calling you brother.”

“Silvia wishes to see you. Come inside.”

He escorted her through the great hall and down the corridor that led to the women’s quarters. He knocked on a door and it opened.

“Jarl Konal,” a maid said.

“I give Lady Eva into your keeping. She is now betrothed to my brother, treat her accordingly.”

“Aye, milord.”

“I must go.” He turned to leave.

“Wait.” Eva touched his arm. “Where are you going?”

“To join the fight.”

“But Roald insisted you stay here with me.”

“I appreciate your concern. But there is something you should understand about my brother and me. We will always disagree on most things. But I’d never sit about while he fights to defend the lands of my father. There are fifty guards stationed around this longhouse. If anyone tries to breach its walls, rest assured, they will meet a violent end.”

Eva admired his bravery. “Go with the gods.”

Konal left her alone in the passageway.

The door to the women’s solar opened wider and Runa stood in the entryway. “You must join us,” she encouraged. “There is too much wine to drink, an abundance of sweet breads, and noisy children who require the entertainment of a woman graced with a songbird’s voice.”

Eva warmed to her kindness and crossed the threshold, noting the large size of the space and the feminine decorations. Colorful tapestries depicting the beauty of the countryside—the ancient trees and rivers, the mountains and icy fjords. Cushioned chairs and high-backed benches were occupied by some women Eva had never met before. Silvia lounged on a long couch, surrounded by her servants.

“Dearest, Eva.” She stretched her hands out. “Join me over here.”

Eva accepted the invitation and claimed the empty space at the end of the couch. “You are well?”

“I am,” she said. “Overly tired sometimes, but I expect my strength to return little-by-little.”

“I am still unsure of the exact illness that infected you, Silvia. But I have seen it before, a high fever followed by deep sleep.”

“I am alive and happy—able to love my husband and protect our unborn child.” She cupped her belly. “For that marvel, I am ever indebted to you.”

“You owe me nothing. As for the babe, congratulations. There is no better surprise.”

“I couldn’t disagree more about not owing you,” Runa entered the conversation. “You have much to offer here. And now that you are marrying my brother, maybe you can help convince him to let me serve as a temple maiden. And to lift the fate-binding to Konal he so unfairly cursed me with.”

“Please,” Silvia said with a wave of her hand. “Tis a serious point of contention for my husband and Roald. Let peace settle in before you mention it again, Runa.”

“I’ve nothing but time,” Runa said. “But patience isn’t one of my best traits.”

“No?” Eva asked. “Wouldn’t a temple maiden need it to represent the gods properly?”

“Perhaps,” Runa said. “But I wish to be more than a temple servant.”

“A shield maiden?” Silvia sounded shocked.

“A holy warrior for Odin.”

Eva decided to keep her opinion to herself. As Roald’s wife, she’d have the responsibility and right to speak to Runa about her future. But not yet. “Will you introduce me to the children?”

She watched as a couple of the thralls played with the children on the floor, tossing a leather ball across the circle. There were seven in total, four boys and three girls.

“Indunn and Sissel belong to my cousin, Sigrid.” Runa pointed at her kinswoman.

“They are lovely girls,” Eva addressed their mother.

“Gamble, the oldest boy here, and his sister Yule, belong to Borgny…” Runa finished naming all the children and their respective mothers.

“I am pleased to meet all of you,” Eva said with a smile. “While your fathers are away, would you like to learn a special skill?”

“Aye,” they said in unison.

Eva clapped her hands, encouraged by their enthusiasm. “Runa, do you have ribbons?”

“I can get some.”

“Please do.”

A few minutes later, a servant returned with strips of colorful cloth.

Eva sat on the floor with the young ones and selected several strands. “I will show you how to braid these ribbons in a special way to decorate your clothes.”

Keeping her hands occupied would help time pass more quickly. For sitting about doing nothing would only make her worry more about her future husband. After she finished the first sample, Runa offered her a glass of wine.

“There is no need,” she said.

“Drink it. I recognize the fear in your eyes, Eva. And if you doubt my feelings for my eldest brother, don’t. I, too, pray for his safe return.”

Eva accepted the cup and drank it down.
I am not your servant, great Odin, but I beg you to protect one of your most dedicated warriors. Bring Roald home to all of us…
She’d never prayed to another god before, but under the circumstances, she’s even ask the
Stallos
, troll-like giants who ate people, to guide Roald’s hands.

R
oald brought his
sword down with such brutal force, he had to step on the dead man’s body and yank the blade out with all his strength. He’d nearly dismembered the bastard. He turned around then, searching the fray for his next victim. No mercy would be shown and no prisoners would be taken. Several of the cottages had been burned in the west village, two women and children killed, and many sheep slaughtered.

Troel fought next to him, killing his opponent efficiently, then wiped his axe blade clean on his enemy’s tunic. “I’ve been unable to identify these attackers,” the captain said, breathing heavily. “Their armor is well crafted, their weapons as good as our own.”

“I’ve not spotted any banners or flags. Perhaps we should leave a couple alive for interrogation. I will have answers, Troel, no matter the cost.”

As he finished speaking, three fighters challenged Roald and his captain. Weapons thundered against shields, the sound of metal scraping against metal ignited the jarl’s fury. He not only fought for his lands and people, but he also defended Eva’s honor, and Lamont’s memory. His first foe fell dead to the ground. The second man had the glint of fear in his eyes, but came at Roald with a wild swing of his weapon.

Roald outmaneuvered him, blocking the weak blow with a deft strike of his own. His blade bit into the man’s shoulder, immediately drawing blood.

“Reveal your master’s name and I will spare your life,” Roald roared over the noise. It would be the only offer the bastard got.

His opponent shook his head. “We will fight to the death.”

“I will speed your journey to Hades.” Roald rushed him, knocking his rival down. He cut the man’s scream off with a knife, slitting his throat ear-to-ear. He watched with sick fascination as the bastard gurgled and bled out. “A gift for you, great Odin.”

When he turned around to check on Troel, he spotted a familiar face across the clearing. At least he thought he did—but he couldn’t be sure, light was scarce now.

Troel yelled out in pain. But just as Roald moved to aid him, another fighter cut the captain’s opponent down from behind. The jarl swiftly reached his friend, finding a bloodstain on his upper thigh.

“I must get you to safety.”

“No.” Troel tried to climb to his feet, but failed midway, falling to his knees.

“Let me help him, lord.”

Roald turned to the young warrior that had saved his captain’s life. “I do not know you.”

“I am Thorolf. Recently sworn into service by your captain.” He gazed at Troel with deep respect. “I will stay by his side.”

Roald clasped the man’s arm. “I won’t forget it,” Roald said, preoccupied with hunting down the man he was sure he saw.

He sprinted across the field, looking left, then right, but didn’t see anyone. The only logical way to escape the village was through the forest, so he plunged into the thick foliage, hungry for more blood. He searched the area, banging his sword against the trees, hoping to flush the man out. But nothing stirred.

He walked another mile or two, finally finding fresh boot tracks in the moist soil. “I remember your face well, Markkos. Did you think you could kill innocent women and children, slaughter my herds, and burn cottages without paying for it with your life?”

He waited for a reply.

“Even if you escape me today, I know where you live. I will lead an army to your home and kill anything in my path—until my thirst for blood is sated. Come out of hiding, coward, face me like a man.”

Nothing.

“Your sister would never hide. She is courageous, everything you aren’t…”

“My sister is a whore.” Markkos revealed himself, weaponless and shaking uncontrollably.

Roald growled, circling him as a wolf would its prey. The urge to cut him down nearly won, but he remembered Eva’s sweet face and generous nature. Before he executed her brother, he’d give her a chance to say goodbye to him.

“I am marrying your sister this very night.” He stopped in front of Markkos and sheathed his sword. “Why have you attacked me and my people?”

“Justice,” he hissed.

“For who?”

“For me—the Sami—my sister.”

Angered by his stupidity, Roald head butted him, knocking the weakling over.

Markkos covered his face with both hands. “Get it over with, Jarl Roald. Kill me.”

“And give you the satisfaction of dying like a warrior?” He spat on the ground, then grabbed a fistful of Markkos’s collar and hoisted him to his feet. “You will suffer the shame and humiliation Eva felt when you came here to confront me. Walk freely, or I’ll drag you kicking and screaming like a girl.” Roald gave him a violet shove in the direction of the village.

As they emerged from the woods, it pleased Roald to see his men had flushed the village of any enemy soldiers. Bodies were being stacked in the middle of the clearing. Markkos hesitated, but Roald pushed him again.

“Don’t stop walking unless I tell you to.”

The families had gathered outside now, women and children in tears, their fathers screaming for revenge on whoever had done this.

“I understand your anger—my heart burns for vengeance, too. Odin demands it. I caught this man, a Sami herdsman, the eldest brother of the woman I love and will marry, fleeing the village after he realized the battle was lost. He will be held accountable for his crimes, executed tonight. But not before he reveals the name of the jarl aiding him.” He turned to Markkos. “Speak his name.”

Markkos shook his head.

Roald cuffed his cheek. “Tell us.”

“No.”

He delivered another blow to Markkos’s head, causing him to fall to his knees. “Reveal the identity of my enemy.”

Upon Markkos’s refusal, Troel hobbled forward and struck the coward on the back of his head with his axe handle. Markkos fell face down in the dirt, unconscious.