The Heart's Warrior (36 page)

Closing her eyes, she imagined the intense passion of his kiss, her fierce pleasure when he touched her. Her emotions left her breathless and aching. He was her heart’s warrior, the one man in the world she could ever love. Fear clogged her throat. She couldn’t protect him from the evil forces working against them. She might never get the opportunity to tell him of her love.

In a quick rush, she opened the door and peeked out, expecting to see guards. No one stood there and she thanked heaven for her good fortune.

Dashing outside, she looked about. The sun rose

high, showing the trampled ground in the empty yard.

The warriors had left, taking Orm’s body to bury at sea.

If only Jonas still prepared his ship down at the quay.

In a panic, Kerstin tore across the yard, frantic to reach her husband before he sailed. Chickens squawked and flapped their wings as she raced past. She hadn’t noticed her feet were bare until a sharp stone rolled beneath her heel. She cried out, checked her balance, then hurried on.

Down at the quay, the empty dock showed not one

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ship remained. She arrived too late. The men had sailed.

Pain clenched her heart. She couldn’t lose him now.

Not when she recognized what he meant to her. Somehow, she had to make things right between them. She had to make him believe the truth.

With Sigurd dead, who would watch Jonas’s back in battle? If he thought she tried to poison him, he might not be cautious of the real killer.

She stared at the rippling waves of the river, then returned to the steading. She didn’t know what to say to Tovi, or how the people would receive her.

To her surprise the hall stood empty.

She retrieved her shoes and followed the path to the secret pool Jonas had taken her to earlier that morning.

She wanted to be alone, to plan for his return. Somehow, she must win him back.

Halfway across the fields, Letta trampled after her.

The woman gasped for breath as she clutched Kerstin’s arm. “Letta, why have you brought my satchel of herbs?”

Kerstin asked.

Letta also carried several packs of food and a skin of water. Slung on her back were Kerstin’s bow and arrows, and warm furs tied with strips of leather.

Kerstin tensed. “I won’t run away. I love Jonas. I’m staying.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Letta drew Kerstin into the shelter of spruce trees. She seemed to fear someone might see them. Why wouldn’t she say something? Maybe she had completely lost her wits this time. Kerstin didn’t have time for this nonsense.

“We’re alone, Letta. What is it you plan?”

“I don’t want you to run away, Kerstin.”

As Kerstin looked into the woman’s eyes, she found them clear of insanity, her expression anxious as they huddled amongst the protective trees.

“Did you flee Jonas’s men and they’re searching for you?”

The cracking of a twig came from behind them and

Letta whirled in that direction. A squirrel raced past, disappearing into a hollow.

A hand to her chest, Letta seemed to relax, yet looked 246

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about as if to make certain no one watched them. “Come with me. I’ve found someone in the forest. Please, trust me.” Kerstin frowned. “Who? Who have you found?”

“Shh, lower your voice. I broke away from those men who dragged me from the hall and ran as fast as I could.

They chased me but I hid. That’s when I found him.”

Butterflies fluttered in Kerstin’s stomach as she followed Letta toward a thick patch of trees. They left the main path and headed down hill. The scent of damp soil filled the air along with the sounds of birds twittering in the branches.

Lifting her arm, Letta pointed. “He’s there, but he’s badly injured and might be dead. I hid him so he wouldn’t be found until I could bring you or Jonas. I was too late to find Jonas. He had already sailed.”

Kerstin squinted her eyes. Her heart thudded when she saw a man lying partially concealed amongst leaves and branches. Hurrying to his side, she knelt down and brushed twigs away from his face. She gasped.

Anskar! Jonas’s runner.

She pressed her fingers to his throat, seeking a pulse.

He still lived—but barely.

Searching him, she discovered a stab wound in his back. She opened his shirt and her eyes widened. “Just like Tostig. So much blood. How have you survived this long?”

Now, Kerstin understood why Letta had brought

packets of food, healing herbs, and the thick furs. They were to be used on the injured man. With deft fingers, she poured water on a cloth and cleansed the blood from the gaping hole. She packed the wound to stop the bleeding but knew he was near death.

Letta peered down at him. “He’s still alive?”

“Aye, but he’s unconscious. I must get him back to the steading.” She tore strips of cloth.

“You can’t take him there.” Letta shook her head.

“Think, sister. They’ve accused you of murdering Orm.

They’ll believe you’ve done this to Anskar. If he dies, they’ll burn you this time. Jonas will never trust you again.”

Kerstin hesitated. Letta was right, but where else 247

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could she take Anskar? She shook her head. “I can’t jeopardize his life to save myself. Do you think you can help me carry him?”

Letta snorted. “Listen to me, Kerstin. You must help him and find out who has done this. Someone amongst us is a murderer. They’ll kill you and Jonas if they’re not stopped. I fear for my husband’s life also. Evil lurks amongst us. We must be careful to discover what it is.”

Kerstin frowned. Was it possible Letta had stabbed Anskar? Her suspicions must have shown on her face, for Letta shook her head again.

“Nay, Kerstin, this isn’t my work. I hated Jonas at first, but not anymore. The Sigurdssons are my friends, now. And I didn’t poison Bjorn either. I’m no murderer, merely a grieving mother.”

Conviction filled her tone and Kerstin couldn’t doubt her. What horrible force was at work here? Einar said there was a traitor amongst them. The promise of wealth could turn any man’s heart. One of Jonas’s men could have easily betrayed them. Several of his people came for the wedding feast and were there the day Bjorn died.

Anskar’s eyes fluttered and Kerstin leaned over him.

He grimaced with pain and tried to swallow.

“Danger…” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Ambush…for Jonas and the king.”

Again he swallowed and then he cried out with pain.

He coughed and bloody spittle ran from his mouth. He bled inside and there wasn’t much she could do for him.

“Where?” Kerstin almost shouted. “Where will they ambush Jonas?”

Anskar shuddered. “On the moors…Durham…the

river’s mouth.”

He jerked and his eyes stared. He said no more.

Her fingers curled around his shoulders and she gave him a shake. His head rolled, a lock of matted hair fell across his brow.

“Who? Who is the traitor?”

He couldn’t answer. Anskar was dead.

Kerstin trembled as she stood on her feet. Her gaze scanned the hills, letting herself take in any furtive movements that might indicate an assassin hiding there.

Nothing moved, except the buzz of flies and the

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whisper of a breeze.

Durham wasn’t far, if she sailed by ship. Last June, Kerstin had joined her father and brothers as they met there for the yearly gathering to discuss laws and settle disputes between the various earldoms. A beautiful place, it bordered by the River Wear, with rugged moors and magnificent waterfalls. Fields of grass offered grazing for herds of animals and crops for the winter’s cold. Located not far inland—an ideal place for an ambush.

“Jonas is in danger. I must go to him.”

Letta nodded her head. “Aye, this evil must end.”

Kerstin blanched. She could lose everything. Jonas and all those dearest to her heart. Her own life.

Letta picked up a heavy packet and handed it to

Kerstin. When Kerstin opened it, she discovered a pair of men’s pants, a thick, woolen shirt, her small helmet and chain mail. She looked at Letta and her eyes widened with wonder.

“You knew I would go after Jonas?”

Letta smiled. “You love him. I’ve seen it in your eyes.

One day Jonas will know it, too. He’s a fool to believe you could ever harm him.”

Kerstin hugged Letta. Tears filled her eyes and she kissed her sister-in-law’s cheek.

“I also knew you loved my son.”

Kerstin and Letta turned and found Tovi standing

beside the shelter of trees.

“Tovi!” Letta gasped with fear.

“Don’t be frightened. I wasn’t followed. I saw Kerstin leave the hall and wanted to know where she was going. I wished to know the truth about Orm—whether or not Kerstin tried to poison my son. I know now she’s

innocent.”

Kerstin’s mouth dropped open with surprise. Tovi’s admission meant so much to her. It gave her the

confidence to face what lay ahead. “Thank you for your trust.”

“Go and warn my son,” Tovi said, her voice urgent.

“I’ll care for your brother while you’re gone.”

It took only moments for Kerstin to dress in her

men’s garb and braid her hair. As she picked up her bow and arrows and slung them on her back, she looked at the 249

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two women. “If the gods are kind, we will meet again.”

Tovi nodded her head. “Jonas told me they plan to enter battle with the Eirikssons early in the morning.

There’s time for you to find him if you sail down river.”

Kerstin clenched her hands, knowing she must do it.

But she became so ill when she sailed. How could she row if she became sick? And if she capsized, her new skill might not be enough for her to swim to shore. She could drown.

Considering her options made her body quake with

trepidation. The call of her loved ones pulled at her. Her father, brother and king. Jonas and all their men. She must succeed. It was their only chance.

“Don’t be frightened,” Tovi soothed as she placed a hand on Kerstin’s shoulder. “I know you can do this.”

Buoyed by the woman’s confidence, Kerstin showed a wan smile. “I will.”

The women waved as Kerstin took off at a lope,

heading for the river. In her heart, she knew such fear that she was almost overcome with it. Her entire family—

all she loved in the world was at stake. And Elezer. Poor betrayed Elezer, who had loved her only to lose her. She must be in time to warn them all.

****

When she reached the quay, she took one of the small boats Jonas’s men used for fishing. Tossing her bow and arrows and other supplies into it, she grasped the oars. As she stepped into the vessel, it rocked wildly and fear clutched her throat. She plopped down on the wooden bench and clung to the sides, holding perfectly still, steadying the craft. Her pulse hammered against her temple. Her skin prickled, awaiting the cold splash of the water.

It didn’t come. The boat calmed to a gentle rocking.

The river tugged at the craft and she dipped the oars into the water as she had watched the men do.

The boat moved away from shore. Water surrounded

her. Her body trembled with fear, her heart in her throat.

If the boat tipped over—

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Nay! She refused to entertain that thought.

Everything was all right. She glided evenly, not too much rocking. The flow of the river pulled her along and she sped past the steading. She could do this.

But what about the falls?

Tension throbbed within her. She couldn’t navigate the falls, nor swim through them. She wouldn’t survive!

Nay, she would bypass the falls. She knew the way.

She must think about Jonas, his gentle touch upon her cheek. His lazy smiles as she rubbed aloe into his skin.

His torrid kisses in the early morning light.

For several hours, she rowed. Her shoulders cramped and she had to rest, and then she rowed again.

By nightfall, she neared the mouth of the river and banked the boat against the shore. A smile of victory curved her lips. She had overcome her fear of water and reached Durham.

Stepping out of the vessel, she sloshed through the water as she pulled the boat to dry land, hiding it in the thick sedges on shore. She gathered her bow and arrows.

From here on, she would travel on foot. If only she would be in time.

Racing up the incline, she headed into the concealing brush and hurried east. Under cover of darkness, she ran across the wild moors until her foot sank deep into a hole, wrenching her ankle. Down she went, falling heavily to the ground. She groaned and panted. Dirt clung to her hair and clothing. Pain washed over her and she clenched her teeth. Sitting up, she brushed leaves out of her hair and rubbed her injured ankle until the pain eased. As she stood, she put weight on her leg, testing it. Had she broken something? She didn’t think so, but it throbbed.

Kerstin took several hobbling steps. She went on, ignoring the ache, ignoring the stitch in her side and catch in her lungs, ignoring every thought but one. She must warn Jonas!

The moon rose above her, casting its eerie light over all the earth so she had no trouble seeing. It was a blessing and a curse. Using the skills her father taught her, she navigated by the stars. She should be nearing the River Wear. That meant danger. She must use caution.

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her nothing more than a boy—at first. Soon, they would discover she was a woman. She might be brutalized, raped, and murdered before she could even utter her name. And if they discovered who she was, they’d use her to destroy her father and Jonas.

Doubt filled her. Jonas wouldn’t try to ransom her.