Taken by the Viking. Michelle Styles

One brief meeting of lips, firm but gentle. Her body swayed towards his, and his arms came around her, drawing her into the hard, muscular planes of his body. The nature of the kiss grew, intensified, becoming hot and searing like the flames that engulfed Lindisfarne.

      Her knees weakened and she held him tightly, her hands clinging to his leather armour, savouring the feel of his mouth roaming over hers. Then it was over, and he had put her away. She stared at him, dazed as she watched his wide chest heave as if he had run a race. She knew her breathing must match his. All this from one kiss. She struggled to take a normal breath, to stop her blood from feeling as if it were on fire.

      ‘If all the Valkyries were like you, I would welcome Valhalla.’ Haakon nodded and turned his back, without waiting for her reply. He wanted no hesitation. What he was doing was the right thing.

      Haakon forced himself to march away from the woman.

      It was the simplest way. She would be safe as long as she stayed there.

      He and his men would be gone in a few hours’ time. She could then live her life and he his. He had repaid his life-debt to her. They were even.

      Annis’s fingers explored her well-kissed mouth as she watched his tall, broad-shouldered figure disappear into the swirling darkness. Bent, no doubt, on some other mission of destruction.

      Did he have to be so handsome? His kiss had been far more pleasant than Selwyn’s kisses ever had been. Selwyn had always tried to dominate her, but Haakon’s kiss had been gently persuasive. And her body responded.

      But he was her enemy. And he had set her free, possibly saving her life. She was sorry that they had to meet like this.

      Would it have better to remain in ignorance that such a man existed?

      She sank down on the spiky sea-grass and drew her knees up to her chest. She was safe and free. Free to go back home and pick up the pieces of her life. After today, she longed for the safety and solid reassurance of Birdoswald’s stone walls.

      The waves hit the red-and-white sailed ships, signalling a change in the tide. The men looked tiny as they moved, carrying chests and crates to the boats. She caught the echoes of their laughter on the wind. How long would it be until they had departed and she could get across the causeway?

      A scream rent the air.

      The hair on the back of Annis’s neck stood on end. She rushed to the edges of the rocks and looked out, with her dagger in her hand.

      No one. A tern circled overhead, opened its beak and screeched again.

      She sank down amongst the rocks again, holding her dagger out in front of her, listening. But there was nothing. There had to be nothing. All the while her mind kept returning the promise she had made to Mildreth. She had to hope Mildreth was safe in the pigsty and would wait for her.

      She had promised to meet her there. She had to be there.

      Annis knew she should wait until the Vikens departed, but the promise preyed on her. If she went to the back of the pigsty, no one would see her. She could rescue Mildreth and none would be the wiser.

      She shielded her eyes and peered down at the boats again. The departure preparations continued a pace. Most of the Viken warriors would be there, not in the town, and the pigsty was situated by the kitchens. There was nothing for them there. No gold. No jewels. No books to burn, just the midden heap.

      Her stomach clenched. She had to go. She had a duty to Mildreth.

      Haakon’s word rang loudly in her ears. She was safe here. She would come to no harm if she stayed still.

      But what if he changed his mind? What if he returned for her? Could she really trust such a man? A heathen warlord?

      She was not safe as long he knew where to find her. She had to leave.

      First, she’d find her maid and fulfil her promise. She had never knowingly broken a promise to her maidservants in her life and she did not intend to begin now.

      She would go as far as the pigsty and no farther. Mildreth had to be there. These Norsemen would be much more interested in plundering the treasury of one of the wealthiest monasteries in the Christendom than capturing reluctant pigs. They would be safe and could wait without fear of discovery.

      Annis shuddered to think how many Northumbrian and Mercian families faced ruin because of today’s work. How many had thought their treasure would be safe in the hands of the monks, as who would risk eternal damnation?

      The sky was thick black with smoke and it appeared closer to midnight than midday. Annis picked her way down the hill, back into the carnage. St Cuthbert’s church glowed orange. As she watched, a huge timber crashed on the centre aisle, sending a shower of sparks into the sky.

      She stumbled and fell, knees first, into a puddle. Her hand closed around a small silver cross that lay in the shallow pool of mud. She tucked it into her belt next to her dagger. It had been a gift to her from her mother. Mildreth must have taken it with her when she ran and then dropped it in her confusion. It had to be a portent that she would find the maid safe and well. When she returned to Birdoswald, she would tell her mother the story. And they’d laugh together, agreeing it was indeed Providence that allowed her to find it.

      Annis pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the sting of smoke. She blinked back the tears. There was little point in thinking about what would happen when she got back to the mainland. She had to survive first.

      She took three more breaths, waiting, but the Norseman had disappeared and no one appeared to be paying her any attention. In fact, no one was around her at all.

      Annis straightened her gown. She gave a half-smile at the gesture. The dark green wool already bore too many stains and was ruined beyond repair. It was incredible that she should even think about her clothes. Even now, her nurse’s many admonitions about how she had to behave—the proper Northumbrian lady, rather than a serf’s daughter—guided her.

      It was time. She had to move or for ever be a captive.

      She slunk back into the shadows and started to edge her way along the side of a stone building. The smoke was thicker and even the stones radiated heat.

      Miraculously no one challenged her and she soon made her way to the outbuildings. The fence was broken and the pigs had vanished, leaving trampled earth as a sign of their escape.

      ‘Mildreth?’ she called softly. ‘It is Annis, your mistress. I am here. I have kept my promise.’

      No answer. It was quiet, an all-enveloping quietness. So very different from the noise and confusion of the courtyard.

      Annis concentrated her whole being, straining to hear the slightest noise. Mildreth had to be here. She had to have escaped. Surely God meant for them to escape. He had delivered them from the beast.

      Then she saw the problem—the roof of the sty smouldered. Mildreth, if she made it this far, must have found a new place of refuge. But where? There had to be somewhere close. But could she afford to search for her? Annis, hating herself, decided no. She had to trust Mildreth would make it through and they would be reunited on the mainland.

      She started to turn, but her eye was caught by a piece of light russet material in the corner of the sty. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a scream and struggled to keep her balance.

      Mildreth, Mildreth’s body, trapped under a timber.

      Annis hurried over. Her hand touched Mildreth’s neck, but already the flesh cooled and her eyes stared up unseeing. All the air vanished from Annis’s lungs. She crossed her hands about her chest and rocked back and forth, struggling as her mind recoiled from the sight in front of her.

      ‘No!’ was torn from the depths of her soul as she tried to focus, tried to think. How long she stood there she didn’t know, but gradually she realised she had to go. The fire had taken hold, jumping and crackling all around her. But it was impossible to leave Mildreth like this, face, unseeing, turned to the sky.

      Annis