Read Desire's Fury (Viking's Fury Book 2) Online

Authors: Violetta Rand

Tags: #Fiction, #Viking, #Romance, #Historical

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

BOOK: Desire's Fury (Viking's Fury Book 2)
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“I am not the first to do it.”

“No,” she said. “But I never imagined… Never believed you so heartless.”

“I am not heartless,” he disagreed. “What kind of man would let his only sister serve as a temple maiden, where she faced the possibility of being sacrificed to the gods? Your blood is too pure for their altar stones. I refuse to allow priests to gamble with your future. And do you know how many of those virgins are raped? Abused? Used like bed slaves and then disappear? Do you?” He gave her a firm shake.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Beast.”

“Settle yourself,” he said dispassionately. “You will walk with me into the great hall, greet our guests, and kiss Konal’s cheeks affectionately. And in return, I will take my seat at the high table and break bread with the Saxon bitch.”

Not unlike him, Runa recovered quickly, wiping her tears away. “What better way to present ourselves? Two liars, together.”

Her insult stung, but he’d have to accept it. Their father’s death had affected everyone in unimaginable ways. Offering his arm, Runa accepted it before she pulled the curtains aside.

As they emerged, someone called Roald’s name.

“Hail Jarl Roald Blood Axe.”

Horns and cups were raised in his honor.

He delivered his sister to her respective seat, then claimed his sire’s former place at the table, between Konal and their even younger brother.

“Have you come to congratulate me finally?” Konal leaned close to him. “To receive my bride?”

Oh how he longed to take up his sword and challenge his brother to a fight to settle their differences once and for all. He gritted his teeth. “The woman still breathes the same air as me—that is welcome enough. Don’t you agree?”

Konal sighed. “What has she done to deserve this cold reception?”

“Filled our sister with false hopes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did your bride not boast of her unusual upbringing to Runa? Poison her mind with ideas of becoming a temple maiden?”

Konal’s rich laughter made him angry. “If you paid closer attention to Runa’s feelings, you’d know she’s dreamed of such things since she was a little girl. The gods choose who they choose.”

“Not Runa.”

“Alliances are more important.”

“Aye,” Roald said. “They are.”

“Let me be clear; I told our sister about Silvia. I am a proud man. Her abilities will prove invaluable once I establish my own steading.”

Another stab in the heart. “Did I mishear you, Brother?”

“No. I’m sure you didn’t. Prince Ivarr declared me a jarl in Northumbria before I left. And I intend to keep that title. You’ll receive tribute from the gold and silver I’ve earned. Enough to buy your own wife,
Brother
. Let us be brutally honest. You want what I have. Always did.”

Rage boiled close to the surface then. Roald eyed Silvia, taking in her fine features again, then licked his lips.
Yes.
He’d fuck her if they met under different circumstances. Might even keep her to warm his bed.

“Not to wife,” he said, taking a cup of wine in hand. “But I’d show her the pathway to Valhalla.” He guzzled his drink, then stood. “Now I shall dance with my
new
sister.” He walked behind her chair. “Lady Silvia.” He bowed in mock respect. “Twould be an honor…”

Chapter Three

E
va dropped another
armful of kindling on the fire, then pulled her wool shawl tighter about her shoulders. Above all, she valued her time alone in the wilderness. She could sleep peacefully under the stars and moon. Otherwise, life in the village revolved around the general health of the reindeer herd and learning new skills from her mother—the tribe’s
noaidi
.

As her only daughter, Eva was expected to take her mother’s place someday. An honor she wasn’t sure she wanted or deserved. Unlike most of the Sami tribes living in the north, her ancestors had always relied on the skills of a female healer—earning the disapproval of their allies. Men were usually called into service, not girls. Especially a thankless daughter who had never experienced a period of crisis or received visions from helper spirits, signaling her purpose as a shaman.

Though Eva could comfort a beast with a whisper or provide healing compounds, her mother forced her to practice her art in the shadows. A
noaidi
who didn’t communicate with the spirits couldn’t possibly be a true healer. She could mimic her mother in every way, had perhaps even mastered certain spells and chants. But nothing more. Anyone could learn to mix the ingredients for medicine if they paid attention.

These were the concerns her mother voiced every day. Words that made Eva doubt herself. And her two brothers never let her forget it.

She gazed heavenward, the clear nighttime sky as inviting as a hot spring on a winter night. What she’d give to fly with the ravens or eagles—to reach the gods and her ancestors. Any creature without wings didn’t know true freedom.

She sighed, then sat down on her reindeer skin contemplating where she’d seek more
hvonn
tomorrow, an herb that cured coughs and sore throats. Several of the elders in her village had been struck by the same sickness recently.

Tired, she curled up on her side, wrapping the warm fur over her body. Just as her eyes started to close, she heard a noise—possibly an animal trudging through the nearby trees—or a stranger. She trusted all beasts, but not people. Unwilling to take a chance, she reached for the knife she kept tucked in her leather boot. The fire would keep animals away, but if a man came too close…

Though her brother, Markkos, had taught her how to wield a blade, she never liked the idea of killing. It went against everything she believed in. Her hands were meant for healing.

“What if I were a bear? Or a moose ready to trample you to death?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, relieved to hear Markkos’s voice, yet irritated by his intrusion. “Why did you follow me again?” she asked, sitting up. “Have I not begged for you to give me this time alone?”

He stood on the other side of the fire, his green leather
gákti
decorated with a black belt embellished with square silver buttons that meant he was a married man. “And risk losing you?”

His concern didn’t come from the heart. Markkos wanted to marry her off to a wealthy farmer in exchange for several superior reindeer to expand his own herd.

“I refuse to accept
him
as a husband,” she said. “And Mother would never agree to me leaving our village.”

He laughed. “If you were going to be the next
noaidi
, you wouldn’t be sleeping on the ground in the middle of nowhere seeking herbs to cure runny noses.”

“Or those blisters you got after bedding that woman from…”

“Enough,” he snarled, obviously disinterested in recalling one of the many times she’d saved him from his wife’s bad temper. “I am entitled to check on you whenever I wish, Eva. It is my duty.”

“Maybe if you didn’t stray from your wife’s bed and concentrated on having children, you’d find your own life more fulfilling.”

They’d never shared a close relationship, but were always honest with each other. Something Eva valued dearly.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, reaching for her leather bag. “There’s bread and cheese, and even some milk left in my skin.” She patted the open space on her pallet. “Join me.”

He rounded the fire pit, then sat next to her. “What comfort do you find out here? No woman I know prefers the outdoors over the safety of her own home.”

“The earth speaks to me in ways you wouldn’t understand.”

“But not the spirits?” He bit off a chunk of bread and chewed.

“No,” she regrettably admitted. “But the trees and rocks, even the stars above, call to me. I am filled with joy. If I could stay here forever, I would.”

His dark eyes met hers. “Father would have disapproved.”

“He’s gone,” she reminded him. “Claimed by the drink as our uncles both were.”

The men in her family had a weakness for ale and mead—even fermented milk.

“But not forgotten,” he said. “It’s my duty to protect you and it’s your responsibility to wed a man who can add to our wealth.”


Your
wealth,” she emphasized.

He ran his fingers through his cropped hair. “Why do you continuously defy me? Disagree with me on everything?”

“Need you ask, Brother?’ She waited for an answer, but none came. “Because you try to take advantage of everyone. What do I gain if I marry Iisku?”

“You’ve visited his home. Tended his herd. Seen his servants. They eat and dress better than anyone in our
siida.
I want the same for you, little sister. Our mother deserves to rest. Her hands are weak and withered; her bones brittle. Whenever she stoops to examine a child or beast, she groans. Have you not heard her cry out in pain? Or do you ignore it to feel better?”

The idea of him thinking her so selfish made her sad. “I am not deaf or blind. Her hands are swollen most days. Who do you think massages them at night? Gives her draughts to ease the pain? Sings her to sleep on the nights she cannot bear to lay down for fear of not being able to rise in the morning?”

Markkos studied her. “Forgive me,” he said softly. “I only wanted to test your loyalty. Our place is in the mountains, not here in the lowlands amongst the Vikings.”

Though the Sami traded regularly with the Norse, there seemed to be a lingering distrust between them. “Speak for yourself. Why do you build fishing vessels to suit their needs if you think of them as enemies?”

“For coin.”

She rolled her eyes. “There is more to life than filling your house with gold.” But he’d never agree.

Markkos cared too much about the way he looked, the clothes he wore, and the food he ate. He preferred dressing his wife in linen and silk over wool and leather. And the only way to keep his house stocked with such luxuries was to continue providing boats and other items the Norse wanted.

“I must sleep now.” She yawned, her legs sore from hours of walking. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Aye. But I will leave once you are resting comfortably.” He stood and waited for her to reposition herself under the skin, then lay beside her. “Sleep well.”

“I shall.” But instead of closing her eyes, she stared at the moon. Somehow, she must convince her brother to give up the idea of marrying her off to a man she’d never love.

Chapter Four

“W
hat in Odin’s
name have you done?” Konal cradled his wife’s limp body in his arms. “So help me…”

Roald eyed his brother, not knowing what to say. After three dances with Silvia, he escorted her back to the high table and she collapsed before she sat down. “Nothing,” he said, deeply concerned. Though he didn’t like her, while under his roof, it was his duty to protect her. “But we will find out what happened.”

Determined to solve the problem before anyone had time to start vicious rumors, he searched amongst his guests for a spaewife. But the one he usually called upon hadn’t attended the feast.

“Where is she?” he asked Troel. “Of all the bloody nights to be gone…”

“Far south, milord. The woman went to visit her daughter, remember?”

“And who is available now?”

The captain rubbed his chin. “There’s the old man in the stable. He’s capable and has a gentle hand with the beasts.”

“Gaze upon my sister-in-law, Captain. Does she have four legs and a mane? Or bleat like a fucking sheep?”

“No, milord.” Troel said on a growl.

Roald had never raised his voice to the captain—but the man couldn’t expect him to allow a stable hand to care for Silvia. “Send three men to fetch Grisla. And while they are gone, have them sweep the countryside for healers. I want only the best for my brother’s young wife.”

He watched as Konal carried Silvia out of the great hall. The room had grown uncomfortably quiet, so he grabbed a cup of mead from the closest table and raised it. “Do not be alarmed,” he said. “Drink. Eat. Take pleasure with the closest maid.”

Once he finished his mead, he stalked back to the high table where Runa waited.

“Better commands have never been given,” she said.

“Orders for my men only.”

“I cannot…”

“You can eat and drink. But if I catch you in bed with someone, I’ll have his ballocks cut off and hung in the public square.”

She stood, unhappy with his threat. “You will start your reign as a tyrant? Insult me, our brother? His wife?”

“I would keep my family safe and preserve our honor. Go to your room, Runa. While I’m gone, consider your good fortune. Remember the men and women who rely on us for sustenance. Be grateful you aren’t one of them.”

“I’d rather wear rags and live in a hut than be here.”

“Spoken as a spoiled child.”

She rushed out of the hall, leaving Roald with his youngest brother.

“Do you have any complaints to share, Haakon?”

He shook his head. “Where are you going?”

“To find a healer. Watch over our sister.” He refused to give Konal the chance to accuse him of anything else.

Not long after, Roald rode away from his steading, relieved to be alone. There was much to consider; his own future, Runa’s future marriage, his father’s funeral, and Konal’s wife. His grandfather would have left the Saxon witch to die. But the world was rapidly changing. Men who stayed away from their homelands too long were converting to other religions, growing soft, and trading their armor for land to farm. Not in the Trondelag. Roald would safeguard tradition, recruit the best men for his army, and bleed for the gods as long as he lived.

How any man could turn his back on the northlands, he didn’t know. A more beautiful place didn’t exist. Even by predawn light, the snowcapped peaks to the north were visible. He steered his horse along the western shore of the Trondheim fjord. The lowlands east and south of the fjord were fertile. And in winter, only the most northern section froze, leaving the inhabitants of this part of the country a place to fish all year long.

Birch, spruce, and pine trees sheltered the shore, and Roald stopped to admire Allfather’s handiwork.

BOOK: Desire's Fury (Viking's Fury Book 2)
12.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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