Sold To The Viking Warrior. Michelle Styles

Thorbin. Thorbin inherited everything.’ Hring shook his head. ‘Thorbin lit the pyre, but an arrow arced from out of nowhere and killed her before the flames licked her feet.’

      ‘And Sigurd is supposed to have fired the arrow. Is that your point?’ Liddy said, staring at Sigurd’s broad shoulders. Knowing Thorbin’s reputation, she suspected he had deserved to be attacked. ‘How difficult. To be faced with a choice like that. Knowing that she had tried to save him.’

      Hring grabbed her elbow. ‘That doesn’t bother you? He dishonoured the gods. Some might consider him cursed.’

      Liddy touched her mark. Would this warrior think she had dishonoured the gods as well? ‘Do you?’

      ‘Lord Ketil knows what he is doing and I trust him. He chose Sigurd, but Thorbin makes sure the gods favour him and they have thus far. Luckiest bastard I have ever heard of.’

      Not the words of endorsement for Sigurd Liddy had hoped to hear.

      ‘Everyone is defeated one day,’ she said more to calm her nerves than to Hring. ‘Sigurd will make Thorbin hold to Lord Ketil’s promise. He is Lord Ketil’s emissary.’

      ‘I like you, Lady Eilidith. You have faith. You are not worried about such things as curses.’

      Hring clapped her hard on the back and Liddy stumbled, grazing her hands on the rough ground. She shook her head at Coll, who gave a low rumble in the back of his throat.

      ‘A problem?’ Sigurd asked, coming to stand beside her. ‘You tripped over that large stone, Eilidith. You should watch where you put your feet.’

      Liddy wiped her hands on her cloak, shrugging off his steadying hand. She was doing it again—trying to see the best side of things. The sheer impossibility of what she was about to attempt swamped her and she wanted to sink down into a heap of tiredness and never get up. ‘Next time, I will pay more attention to where I put my feet.’

      ‘We can stop and rest,’ Hring suggested with a sly smile. ‘If this lady is the key which will open the locked door, we want her in the best condition.’

      He gave her a look that suggested, even in her best condition, she’d have no hope of catching Thorbin’s eye.

      Liddy straightened her cloak and tried to ignore the sinking in her heart. If they rested for too long, she’d miss her chance to petition Thorbin during the assembly day. ‘I’m fine.’

      ‘Look where you are stepping in the future.’ Sigurd turned back to his men. ‘We will get there, my lady, never fear. Even if I have to carry you. Hring the Grizzled, go bother someone else with your nonsense. The Lady Eilidith is safe with me.’

      Hring immediately moved off.

      ‘Are you going to explain what that was about?’ he asked softly. ‘You should have informed me that you speak the North language.’

      She shrugged. ‘The Northmen have lived here for most of my lifetime. Someone had to know what they were saying.’

      ‘And what was Hring saying?’

      ‘Hring saw fit to inform me of various rumours about your past. Apparently you dishonoured the gods and they will get their revenge whereas your half-brother always ensures that his doings find favour with the gods.’

      Sigurd’s face became hardened planes. ‘The gods have more to worry about than mortal men and their deeds. I believe you are responsible for your own success or failure. If you believe in a curse, you are more likely to see things that way. My mother died free.’

      ‘I see.’ Liddy pressed her lips together to keep the truth about her curse from spilling out. Sigurd did not need to know about her dead children.

      He shrugged, but a muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘I would have saved her if I could, but I was too late and could only ease her suffering. It was a long time ago, back in the North Country. Does it make a difference to what I will do? I think not.’

      Liddy gestured with her hand. ‘Some of those women...back in the grove...did they suffer greatly?’

      His eyes held a haunted quality. ‘It is far from an easy way to die. Not one I’d wish on anyone.’

      ‘But do you dishonour your gods by speaking this way?’

      He gave a half-smile. ‘My god is my own business, but I haven’t followed my father’s religion since that time.’

      Liddy wrapped her arms about her middle. He couldn’t be Christian. He wore long hair and was leading a pagan war band. And she had put her life in his hands. ‘Will you make sure that isn’t my fate?’

      ‘It won’t come to that.’

      ‘Even still...’

      A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘Stop worrying. Trust me. Your fate will be different.’

      They arrived at a small knoll overlooking the fort just as the light turned to dark. Liddy was impressed that Sigurd had indeed known a quicker way.

      His assessment proved correct. The fort’s gate was firmly shut with great ceremony as the last few rays flickered in the sky. The carts trundled out into the gloom. Liddy could hear various grumbles about the way the Northmen treated the Gaels, but not too loud and they were soon hushed.

      Liddy started forward, but was hauled back against Sigurd’s hard body.

      ‘Where do you think you are going?’ His deep voice rumbled in her ear.

      She half-twisted. His closeness did strange things to her body. She frowned. Ever since she had watched the two tiny coffins being lowered into the ground, her body had had no feeling. Right now she had no time to go back to that indescribable pain. She swallowed hard and concentrated on the fortress.

      ‘To wait by the gate. To be first in the queue when they open for the assembly day. There are sure to be dozens of petitioners and I want to make sure mine is heard.’

      ‘We stay here a while yet.’ He draped his arm across her shoulders, preventing her from moving. Another warm pulse coursed through her. She screwed up her eyes and willed her lungs to fill with air. The trouble was that a small part of her wanted these pulses to continue.

      Her gaze followed the line of his other arm. A group of Northmen rode up and demanded entrance. The gate swung open and another smaller group came out.

      ‘What are they doing?’

      ‘Searching. We wait until other islanders arrive. Then we will go forth as part of a crowd.’

      ‘Will they find us here?’ she asked.

      Sigurd lifted a brow and exchanged a glance with Hring, who fingered his axe. ‘I’d prefer surprise, but we would be more than a match if they did discover us. A small patrol holds no fears for us.’

      Liddy caught her bottom lip, something she always did when she was nervous. ‘Where should I hide?’

      Sigurd settled down with his back against a tree. He patted the ground beside him. ‘Keep close and you will come to no harm.’

      Liddy sat down with Coll between her and the Northman. The last thing she wanted, if she survived, was rumours that she had taken up with a Northman. She touched her birthmark. Not that any would be interested in her in any case. She had nothing to charm a man.

      * * *

      Sigurd woke with a numb arm. Some time in the night, her dog had moved to her other side and Lady Eilidith had moved closer. One hand was splayed against his chest. It felt right to hold her in his arms. He tried to remember when he’d last held a woman like this, just to sleep. Possibly Beyla all those years ago when he thought the world a very different place.

      In the pale light, he watched her softly parted lips and the curve of her neck for another heartbeat. Something panged deep in his chest. He would do his best to protect her, but Eilidith was the bait. She was going to give him the excuse he needed to finally