Viking Warrior, Unwilling Wife. Michelle Styles

more in that brief kiss with Sela than he had done with any of his recent bed-companions.

      Vikar turned his thoughts away from the memory of Sela’s lips trembling under his. Now was not the time for such things. He had an elusive jaarl to find, one who would employ every trick he could to stay one step ahead. One who would retake the hall and bring devastation to Viken if he could. A wounded animal was often the most dangerous. An old saying, but a true one.

      ‘How many men have you sent after Bose the Dark?’

      ‘None.’ Ivar banged his fists together. ‘I have no wish to send men on a fool’s errand. The pathways in that forest are many. He could be anywhere.’

      ‘Find a guide.’

      ‘None of his men will go. I tried threatening them. Offering gold. They are a poor lot, no spirit in them.’ Ivar hooked his thumbs around his sword belt. ‘And I would not trust them either. There is some mischief here that I don’t understand.’

      Vikar gave a nod. Ivar was right. They needed someone they could trust to send them in the right direction, someone who would lead them directly to Bose. He would discover the truth of what was happening on Thorkell’s northern border and he would ensure peace. Bose the Dark had to see that his time of mischief-making was over. ‘Bose is obviously making for a sanctuary, a place where he can regroup or call in favours from other jaarls.’

      ‘But why would he leave his daughter?’ Ivar said. ‘Surely he must know her value as a hostage, if he should try to regain any of his land.’

      ‘It is the one piece of the puzzle I don’t understand,’ Vikar admitted. ‘Bose the Dark’s devotion to his family is legendary. Why did he deliberately put her in danger?’

      ‘Perhaps he grew tired of her and her demands. His daughter is reputed to be quite strong-willed and unmanageable.’

      Strong-willed was an understatement. Stubborn beyond any sense was a better description. Her earlier refusal rankled. He had felt her lips move against his, her body begin to arch towards him. She was not as indifferent as she pretended. He had not mistaken the passion they had once shared. They would share it again, and he would be the one to do the leaving.

      ‘It is a possibility.’ Vikar rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. ‘But what I am more worried about is the remainder of Bose’s men. We are vulnerable to attack should he succeed in contacting one of his allies.’

      ‘Our situation?’ Ivar ran his hand through his hair. ‘Only two of our number made it to Valhalla. The other injuries are not life threatening. Surely it is a cause for celebration.’

      ‘Our victory was too easy.’ Vikar shook his head. ‘It was almost as if he wanted us to win. How quickly could he raise support?’

      ‘Would that all our fights were that easy! The gods were with us, but we did fight, Vikar.’

      Vikar stared out towards the fjord. The water lapped at the ships. Had he inadvertently led his men into another one of Bose the Dark’s traps? Would he be the one defeated? He who had so proudly proclaimed that Bose could no longer manipulate him. Unthinkable, and yet the prickling sensation at the back of his neck refused to go. He had to find a way to discover Bose and force his surrender. While he was out there in the blackness, his men remained in danger. Bose had to formally surrender and accept him as the master of this hall. ‘It is not over yet.’

      ‘How so? We fought, they died. We won. It is the end.’ Ivar clapped his hand against Vikar’s back. ‘Stop seeing shadows where there are none. Our men deserve a victory feast.’

      ‘That army was commanded by a woman and the warriors were either past their best or untried. Someone wanted us to win here today. Someone knew we were coming.’ Vikar’s hand went instinctively to the hilt of his dagger.

      Ivar’s face showed his utter dismay. He glanced backwards as if he expected to see another host rising from the forest. He let out a soft sigh as the dark pines and birches remained devoid of life.

      ‘What do you intend to do?’

      ‘Find Bose. He is the key to unlocking this problem.’

      ‘Find him?’ Ivar’s eyes opened and his beard quivered. ‘He is in the forest, I tell you—he and two others—a woman and a child.’

      ‘So there were others. You should have told me to begin with. There will be a reason for that child.’

      ‘It is why they were let through,’ Ivar explained. ‘The old man looked harmless, leaning on his stick, and his face half-covered with a cloak. It was only after he was gone that someone noticed the resemblance. It had to be him—we have searched everywhere else.’

      ‘It will have been him.’ A faint breeze ruffled Vikar’s hair. The currents in this hall ran deep. He knew that nothing was ever straightforward. Sela knew far more than she was letting on. She would go to her father, if she could. She had always run to him after their fights.

      ‘Why would he have a child with him?’

      It was not a question Vikar cared to answer or even speculate on.

      What was the child to Bose the Dark? A shield and ruse or something more? The answers could only come from one source.

      ‘Bose has always been known for his personal bravery. If he can walk, he can fight. He remains a danger. Everything he does is for one purpose only—his personal gain and glory.’

      ‘But how are you going to find him?’ Ivar tapped a finger against his mouth. ‘No one knows where he has gone.’

      ‘Sela does.’ Vikar nodded back towards the hall, towards where she was imprisoned. ‘And she is going to try to reach him, if I allow her.’

      ‘How can you be sure of that?’ Ivar’s eyes widened. ‘Women are unreliable creatures.’

      ‘Sela reveres her father. She will go.’ Vikar permitted a smile to cross his face as he remembered Sela’s reaction to his suggestion. Concubine to a jaarl. Most women would have taken a pragmatic approach. But Sela made it seem as if he threatened to send her to the frost giants. ‘I have given her every incentive to go. I know the woman well. She will escape and I will be with her, dogging her footsteps.’

      ‘And how will you make certain you don’t lose her? I heard that when she divorced you, she vanished into thin air.’

      Vikar gazed up at the sky—a hazy blue, signalling it was late in the day. The sun would not properly set this far north. He preferred not to think about that day when he had gone back to their lodging and discovered Sela gone. Later Hafdan had taunted him, beaten him. Vikar fingered his long healed jaw. He had learnt a lot since that day. It was then that he had lost his illusions, and had begun to grow up.

      ‘She escaped me once, but she will not again.’ The muscles in his neck tightened. ‘We must work out how many will guard the hall and what needs to be done to repair its defences. Bose has become lax in recent years.’

      ‘The men deserve a feast. They will want to sample the spoils. You seek to deny them their right.’

      ‘We feast tonight, and tomorrow you begin the work. This hall will not fall so easily again. I will find Bose. I promise you that.’

      ‘Very good, Vikar.’ Ivar adjusted his sword belt. ‘Can I help you with your problem? Is there anything more you need?’

      ‘Allow me to handle my former wife, my own way.’ Vikar put his hand on the hilt of his sword. ‘I have planted the seed. Let us see how she reacts to a bit more subtle persuasion.’

      Concubine? To Vikar? After what had passed between them? He was determined to humiliate her. Determined to show the world his total mastery of her and her world.

      Sela shook her head in amazement. Even now, some time after Vikar had locked her in the blackness of her father’s room, her lips ached slightly, giving lie to her declaration that she felt nothing for him.