Viking's Love (5 page)

Joran hauled her back into the enclosure when
she would have jumped ship and gone after Wulfstan as she
threatened for what he did to Elspeth. He cautioned Allisande with
threats of a beating when she rashly threatened him. She scoffed at
him with such foul curses, he was forced to tie her up and gag her
for her own safety.

Elspeth was standing near the main mast later
that morning. He noted her strange behavior and closed eyes. He was
about to speak to the girl as he approached. She moved too quickly
and was over the side before any could stop her. She was smiling as
she sank beneath the dark waves. The Vikings were all grim to see
it. They saw this as a sign from their Gods foretelling
disaster.

Allisande wept when the maid went over the
side, rushing to the railing to stop her. She turned and glared at
them, declaring them all doomed, enjoying their looks of
horror.

She laid vile curses upon them that made the
Vikings all mutter.

Joran grabbed her by the scruff of her tunic
and dragged her away from the deck. She kicked and fought against
him, but tied her and left her to hurl her verbal abuse against the
gag he shoved in her mouth.

Allisande wept bitterly over Elspeth taking
her own life. She had a list of injuries she wished to inflict upon
her captors. She was recounting them when Joran returned to feed
her later. Her eyes narrowed as he approached her with a wooden
bowl of food.

She kicked at him viciously. He winced as she
caught his shin with her booted foot before moving away. Joran’s
temper was already sorely tested. His fellow Viking’s complained
the Englishwoman was a witch and meant them all harm. Their worries
still rang in his ears. He lectured the superstitious lot of them
for nearly an hour until he was satisfied they were not taking the
girl’s threats seriously.

Joran had enough of her verbal attacks. He
ripped a thick piece of canvas and approached her, his ice-blue
eyes meeting hers intently. She started screaming, much to the
delight of all those outside the enclosure. His men cheered
outside, thinking their leader was beating the girl at last.

“
Stay away from me, you stinking
barbarian ox!” Allisande found herself backed into a corner, unable
to get away from the huge Viking who stalked her. He grabbed her.
She grunted and kicked him smartly in his instep, causing him to
glower and yank her along with him until she was dragged to his
sleeping mats. Believing it was his intention to rape her, she
struggled anew, kicking and biting him viciously wherever she found
contact with his flesh.

Joran grabbed her flailing arms, and held her
down before she could do any more damage while he quickly bound her
mouth. He stared down at her thrashing beneath him. He was
disgusted at how his body became so heated from mere contact to
hers. He eyed her grimly as he rose. He stood over her with a gleam
in his Nordic blue gaze. She stared up at him defiantly, knowing he
could crush her skull with one blow of his powerful fist.

“
When you learn to speak without that
forked tongue in your head; I will remove the gag!” Joran stood
with his hands on his hips over her, shaking his head at her in
disgust. “You are trying my patience, girl! You are lucky I haven’t
beaten you black and blue for your insults! Odin’s bones, you are a
vile shrew, Allisande of Lockwraithe! It is no wonder you are yet
unwed! I would wager the king’s puny Lord’s are grateful I saved
them from you!”

Allisande shrieked under the gag in outrage.
He smiled to see she was unable to vent her fury upon him anymore.
He chuckled, pleased with his efforts. He turned and stalked out to
the deck of his ship where his men laughed and teased him. He
ignored their ribald jests as he consulted the map crudely drawn on
an animal skin.

By his calculations, they would make landfall
by the end of the next day. His party would deposit their captives
they wished to sell with the flesh peddlers in Oslo. Allisande had
no idea how lucky she was to not share the fate of her serfs or she
would stop hurling abuse at them daily.

They would be stripped naked before the crowd
and inspected crudely by any who wished to purchase them. It was a
degrading and often grotesque practice. By claiming her as his own,
he spared her that fate. He doubted she would thank him for it.

He looked up into the darkening sky and
consulted the stars to determine their direction. He was satisfied
they were headed the right way. He was pleased he could finally
return to his home. Winter was coming and he was weary of raiding.
Thinking of the English beauty keeping him warm on the long winter
nights to come made him grin delightedly. The English beauty would
no doubt leave icicles upon his bollocks!

Merta’s sweetness and pleasing nature was a
far more practical prospect. The lusty redhead ceased to arouse him
of late, however. He found himself seeking his bed later and later
in the evenings to avoid her. He knew it was high time he sent her
back to her brother.

Allisande of Lockwraithe would learn her
place as his slave. It was a fine thought, but he rather doubted
the fiery beauty would yield to any man. He stared moodily out over
the sea and contemplated their imminent arrival with
reluctance.

Wulfstan would be sure to challenge his
rights. The girl’s fate would be in Ivar’s malevolent hands. She
had no idea how fragile the hope was that he allowed her to live.
He only thought he might impress his sire to allow her to be
ransomed back to her brother.

He felt ill at the thought of her being put
to death. Ivar couldn’t be predicted in what he would decide. He
wouldn’t like the contention between his men over Osgood’s
daughter. Joran felt confidant Ivar would give her to him, but he
dare not get his hopes up.

Thinking of the hefty ransom he would receive
lightened his mood considerably as he took the first watch. Her
brother would no doubt pay it to save face with his king.

Collin of Lockwraithe was content to remain
at court currying favor with King Alfred. They weren’t surprised to
find him absent during the siege. Harold’s daughter’s presence
there was unforeseen. She was believed to be at court too.

Allisande would have suffered at his men’s
hands had he not taken her for himself. She should be thanking him
for saving her from that indignity, not cursing him and threatening
him with bodily harm. They were an arrogant lot, these
Lockwraithe’s.

He thought of his countrymen, his half
brother, and many friends, who all fell under English blades in
Northumbria the previous year. His eyes narrowed dangerously. The
English desecrated the fallen Vikings, the grossest insult an enemy
could give to their Viking foes. Ivar’s fury would be satisfied for
the moment. Osgood was made an example of for his treachery.

Joran smiled grimly when he thought of the
message left behind with the old man at Lockwraithe. Collin would
hear of it and know why his home was destroyed. He would learn
firsthand of his father’s crimes. He would be furious to discover
his lady sister was now the slave of a Viking. He would pay to
reclaim her, and all would never dare cross Ivar the Boneless
again.

****

The dark-haired young lord was surrounded by
a half dozen retainers when he reached the burning fields, unable
to believe what was seen. Collin sat astride his mount in obvious
shock. His violet eyes filled with anguish. A low cry of torment
escaped his lips as he viewed the destruction of his home with a
guttural growl of fury. He spurred his mount ahead of his men.

Even the hounds his father prized so highly
were slaughtered by the Vikings. As he and his remaining retainers
rode through his lands and surveyed the wanton destruction, Collin
was besieged with the immediate needs of those left alive.

His people were starving, living off whatever
they could. Collin was relieved to learn his mother survived the
siege. Lady Edwina took refuge with her remaining servants at a
nearby abbey. Allisande was taken hostage by Joran Ivarsson; he was
told, and stiffened in shock and anger to know he could do nothing
for her.

His father was buried the day before he
arrived back at the keep. Collin didn’t know what to feel as he
watched the process of the rest of the burials as he passed. A
feeling of numb grief and anger prevailed.

According to the old man who retold the
Viking leader’s message, his father betrayed Ivar the Boneless.
Collin listened without expression, a sickening feeling in his gut.
He thanked the man and gave him extra provisions before he left
him.

The damning charges levied at Harold made
Collin flinch inwardly, unable to refute the truth. Collin was grim
as he heard it, his face implacable. He could deny none of it,
knowing his father was guilty.

He cursed his greedy sire. His younger
sister, Allisande, would suffer for their father’s crimes. The
Viking demanded a ransom of one hundred pounds of silver for her.
Thinking of his little sister in the hands of the Berserker, Joran
the Stonehearted; made him feel nauseated.

Collin kicked his mount to a faster pace as
he passed through the charred courtyard of Lockwraithe, cursing his
father’s stupidity. His conspiring with the Viking’s wasn’t news to
him. It was a constant bone of contention between him and his sire
the last year. He warned his father betraying the Vikings would
bring Ivar’s wrath down upon their heads. Harold saw only the
fortune in gold he would split with Baron Luxtley and Lord
Ulsted.

It pained him greatly to know his father was
a traitor. He could hardly condemn the Vikings for their actions
when he learned of his father’s betrayal of them. He knew it just a
matter of time before this happened. Harold believed the Vikings
too stupid to realize he was the one who betrayed them.

When Graelem, Harold’s most trusted man,
disappeared one night; Collin feared he’d been taken by the
Vikings. When Graelem’s body was found hanging in the trees near
the shore; it was a warning Harold chose to ignore.

Collin decided getting his sister settled
away from Lockwraithe and to safety was in order. The king approved
a match between Allisande and one of his favorite nobles, the Earl
of Ulsted, Robert Fitzhugh. While he despised the king’s choice,
his sister would be far away from Lockwraithe when the Vikings
came, or so he thought.

Fitzhugh would refuse the match once it was
known Allisande was a Viking captive. He didn’t have the wealth to
secure her release. Joran Ivarsson was asking an exorbitant ransom
for Allisande. He looked about him in despair. Everything was gone.
The wealth of Lockwraithe was pillaged.

Fitzhugh and the king would commiserate with
his current problems, but none would give one ounce of silver from
their own coffers to help him. Collin was thankful his father’s
conspiring hadn’t been known at the time of his death, or he’d be
stripped of what little he retained and his lands forfeited to the
crown.

Collin hung his head as he recalled the
survivor’s tales of what had been done at Lockwraithe. He was
somewhat cheered to hear his sister killed two of Joran’s men
before being taken. He smiled grimly as he listened to the
tales.

Joran the Stonehearted would learn very
quickly Lady Allisande of Lockwraithe was no meek gentlewoman.

He winced to recall her fiery temper. His
chest bore scars from the years they trained at swords together as
children. He had to search long and far for a noble willing to take
his unruly sister to wife.

With only a modest dowry, her beauty alone
had been her only positive asset discussed at court. The other
nobles smirked while he was at court trying to find her a husband
as they recalled the prickly maid carrying a sword upon her hip
like a man.

Fitzhugh rushed in at the last and claimed he
and his sister were verbally precontracted through Harold. Collin
argued it. He was dismayed, knowing how Allisande despised Robert
Fitzhugh.

He came home early to speak with his father
about the betrothal Robert claimed. The king approved the match at
Robert’s word alone, much to his displeasure. He anticipated a
battle upon his return with his younger sister, not to find his
home decimated.

Collin gazed over the destruction as
makeshift shelters were assembled by the last of his men. He was
the new Baron Lockwraithe. He stomped into his crude shelter that
was now his fortress and contemplated all their futures grimly.

He had to see to the needs of his people
first. He would have to return to court and beg the money necessary
to have Allisande returned. Without Fitzhugh’s financial help, he
wouldn’t be able to raise a stone to rebuild Lockwraithe.

Allisande’s marriage to the Earl of Ulsted
was the only way to repair all. He debated keeping the news of the
raid quiet as long as possible to buy time to reclaim his sister.
Despite her aversion to Lord Ulsted, they had few choices left to
them.

****

Joran arrived at the longhouse of Ivar
Ragnorsson as soon as his ship docked in Oslo. He was immediately
summoned to the high table to recount his raid on Lockwraithe.

Ivar was a large man; brutish in both size
and strength. His regal tunic was embroidered in gold threads.
Medallions and wristbands of gold and silver adorned him. Scars
covered a handsome face obscured by a thick, golden beard.

Ivar’s pale eyes flickered with pride as
Joran spoke of how Lockwraithe had been dealt with. His eyes
gleamed to know his enemy was now dead. Ivar was disappointed that
Harold was killed, but was satisfied there had been little choice
in it. Ivar was fairly bristling with enjoyment to learn Osgood had
been felled by Joran’s own sword.

Ivar’s face was wreathed in a smile of
pleasure and he praised Joran over cups of mead. His eyes narrowed
when he learned Joran had Osgood’s daughter with him. “You seek a
ransom for Osgood’s daughter? That is very good,” Ivar said in a
pleased tone as a female serf refilled their cups.