Viking's Love (63 page)

Rowan gave up trying to talk Joran out of
meeting his foe alone and decided to see to Ambryn as Joran left
the long house. He opened up the door and watched her as she slept.
Her perfect features glowed with health, and were rosy from the
warmth in the room.

He slid out of his furs and mail and removed
his boots. He slid the shirt over his head and tossed it upon the
chair. He removed the rest of his clothing and slid in beside her.
At the touch of his nakedness, she awoke with a start and he held
her soothingly against his chest.

He met her sleepy silver gaze filled with
alarm and waited until she became fully awake, and his lips slid
hungrily over hers. She sighed and her arms wrapped about his neck.
All was forgotten as he came into her arms. She gave herself up to
his passions and lay contented in his arms sometime later as they
came back to the present.

He sat up and pushed back the furs. She bit
her lip and knew he had to leave. She watched as he packed to leave
for Hedeby with a heavy heart. They did not speak. She knew he did
not need her tears now. She rose and helped him, earning a smile of
gratitude from him.

****

Wulfstan watched Rowan sail away from Joran’s
lands and was tempted to follow his one-time friend and cut his
throat for assisting Joran against him. He wondered where Joran
was. He had to have seen what he had done to his lovely wife by
now.

His Berserker rage should have sent him
running blindly from his home in search of him, but it had not. He
arrived too late to see Joran already depart and had no idea his
foe tracked him steadily to where he was camped as he scooted off
the rock ledge and made his way back.

He heard a wolf howl and paused, the hairs on
his neck sticking up as it always had every since he was a child.
He watched wolves tear his father apart when he was a boy, and
could do nothing.

After, his mother sent him away to be
fostered at the knee of Ivar, a ruthless taskmaster with little
affection for young boys. His first kill had been when he was
twelve.

He killed a lad not older than himself while
raiding a village with his mentor’s men. He enjoyed it and killed
for the sheer joy he derived from it since. He would enjoy killing
Joran.

He wished Ivar was here to see his beloved
bastard son die at his hands. He grinned when he thought of how
easy it had been to kill Theron the day they were ambushed. He had
run him through from behind, and it was believed the Saxons killed
Ivar’s son.

He saw the opportunity to remove Theron from
his father’s side and secure his own place, but Joran came to sit
there. He watched as Ivar’s bastard took his rightful place with
resentment and hatred.

Ivar always preferred Joran to him. He had
proven his loyalty and skill upon the battlefield, but had been
rejected in his sire’s heart just the same. Before his mother died,
she informed him that Ivar was his father. He had already known for
years.

Greta waited for him in Oslo. She pleased him
so greatly he did not kill her as he had the others. Once his
brother was dead, he planned to take her with him wherever they
would go. He had enough gold to start anew somewhere. He couldn’t
return to York. Once Joran was dead, he would be hunted by Ivar as
well as those loyal to Joran.

Joran watched the camp from the woods and
waited, his sword drawn. Wulfstan would return here and it would be
over at last. The wait allowed him moments to question his earlier
hesitancy in killing his brother. He hesitated a brief moment and
allowed Wulfstan to jump into the fjord. He should have ended it
then, but blood ties proved to make it far harder than he
thought.

Wulfstan would not stop until one of them was
dead. He had no choice. Lady Edwina’s faith taught him of
forgiveness, but he could find none for the man who led Allisande
to the fate at Ulsted’s hands.

He would forever be tortured by that, and
knew he couldn’t allow Wulfstan to live. He thought of how
different fates would have been had Wulfstan known they were
brothers as children.

Would it have mattered to him? He struggled
with those thoughts as he waited at the campsite. It wasn’t long
before he heard a twig snap and knew Wulfstan arrived back at last.
He stepped out of the trees and stood in wait.

Wulfstan knew he was there before he
stepped into the clearing. His pale eyes glimmered as they met
those of his older brother. Joran did not appear to have lost
control by what he had done to his pretty wife.
Perhaps he was used to seeing her thus
, he
thought with enjoyment.

“
I expected you sooner, Joran.”
Wulfstan drew his sword and stood to watch as Joran stepped closer.
“You disappointed me. I was looking forward to taking your head
back to the lovely Allisande by the evening meal. Did she tell you
I would be here waiting for you? I left my mark upon her last night
while you were away. She proved delightful forced. No wonder Ulsted
paid a fortune to have her back. Perhaps I will delay leaving here
to enjoy her once more.”

Joran stiffened with fury as he heard the
words and shook his head to clear it. Allisande had fallen down the
stairs. She couldn’t have suffered Wulfstan’s attack, or he would
have known of it. His brother was merely trying to prick his anger
and make him off balance.

“
She will not be greeting you at the
end of this day, Wulfstan,” Joran said coldly as he advanced. “My
wife has no tolerance for cowards. She would see you dead as I
will.”

“
A pity and I did try to impress her,”
Wulfstan said and chuckled as he saw Joran’s eyes narrow. “Well,
there will be time for that later. Come meet my blade,
Brother.”

“
You know you cannot make it off this
mountain alive,” Joran said as he circled his brother.

Wulfstan scowled as he saw the smile playing
about Joran’s lips. “Only one of us leaves, Brother.” Wulfstan’s
anger made him blind with the need to hack away that smug, arrogant
expression. He let loose a cry and lunged forward. Joran
sidestepped his advance and his sword slashed at his shoulder.
Wulfstan retracted his sword and drew back, gazing at his cut
shoulder with a glare as he surveyed his brother’s stance.

They circled about each other for a time and
soon the clash of steel was all that was heard within the clearing.
Joran played with him as he met each blow of his sword with a
counter blow. He was tiring, but his brother appeared to not even
be winded as he expended himself trying to inflict damage wherever
he could.

“
It was you who set up our brothers
with the English, wasn’t it, Wulfstan?” Joran circled him, his blue
eyes filled with hatred. “Why did you do it?”

Wulfstan grinned and shrugged. “The
Englishmen gave me a piece of the bounty. Putting a sword through
Theron’s back was an even sweeter reward.”

Learning Wulfstan killed Theron was no
surprise, knowing how he hated Ivar’s oldest son. Joran gazed at
Wulfstan with pity, knowing how jealous he was of Theron. He
probably thought if he killed Theron, Ivar would look upon him more
kindly. Knowing Wulfstan was the traitor was a relief to have
uncovered that secret once and for all. He believed it died with
Baron Lockwraithe and the others.

“
You don’t seem surprised to know I
killed our brother.”

Joran gazed at Wulfstan warily as they
circled each other. “Asking why appears pointless.”

“
Don’t tell me you didn’t hate him too,
Joran!” Wulfstan laughed harshly, his eyes filled with
satisfaction. “How he lorded his status over us. I would not bow to
him when Ivar passed on his power to him.”

“
Theron treated you as a brother,
Wulfstan,” Joran argued, glaring at his words. “You let your
jealousy make you see what wasn’t there!”

“
Did you know it was Theron who
fathered your wife’s child?” Wulfstan snickered as he saw Joran’s
look of surprise. “Yea, the brother you defend was bedding your
wife every chance he got. She came to him and told him it was his.
He tossed her to Rowan then, asked him to take her off his hands. I
don’t even think Rowan knew the child wasn’t his. You defend him to
me now? Come now, Joran, don’t tell me had you known; you wouldn’t
have killed him too?”

“
Aelynn wasn’t worth it, Wulfstan,”
Joran said coldly, unmoved to learn the truth of the past. “My wife
made her choice and paid the price for it.”

“
Our father uses you, Joran,” Wulfstan
said with a sneer. “I think we both know our worth to him! Let us
see how much use he has for you when you cease to raid for
him!”

Joran sighed as he contemplated Wulfstan,
itching to kill him and be done with this bickering. “I am done
with raising a sword to his cause, Wulfstan. He still calls me his
son. Come, enough of your whining. Let us be done with this.”

Joran gave him no opportunity to speak.
Wulfstan was once more backed into a corner and couldn’t escape the
man’s superior fighting skills. Joran stepped to the side as he
made his final lunge.

Joran swung about, and his sword came across
savagely to sever Wulfstan’s head from his body before his brother
realized it. Eyes still blinked within his head as his torso topple
to the ground.

Joran stood over his dead brother with little
satisfaction. He tossed Wulfstan’s bloody remains within the fire
and watched him burn. He left the clearing for home, exhausted and
sticky from blood and his exertions, feeling sickened at the sight
of Wulfstan’s eyes moving still within his head in those final
moments. Justice had been done, but he found little peace in
killing his half brother.

****

Allisande soaked within the tub and washed at
the bite marks that covered her whole body and wept. It had been
hours since Joran set out alone. She couldn’t bear to be in the
hall and see the looks of worry of their people as the waited for
his return. She refused to believe he would fail.

Thinking of Wulfstan’s intent to return and
kill them all made her swallow hard. She had to consider if she had
been wrong to withhold the information that Wulfstan had snuck into
the long house and raped her before Joran arrived home. She
couldn’t bear to send him away to hunt Wulfstan with his mind
clouded with rage. Wulfstan had counted on it to give him the
advantage. She washed at the bruises and knew the answer.

Allisande would suffer and grieve for what
had been done to her later, but she would not burden her husband
with it now. She washed thoroughly and got out of the tub, still
sore from the attack and the fall. She toweled herself dry and
dressed with care, wearing a gown that covered much of the bite
marks upon her shoulders.

Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated what
Wulfstan had done to her. She refused to allow him the satisfaction
of destroying her as Ulsted had. They couldn’t take her soul. Joran
would likely never forgive her for bearing the burden of his
brother’s attack in silence, but she would not give Wulfstan any
advantages.

She looked down at her sleeping twins and
sighed. They would be up soon and hungry. She left the room to
return to the hall and wait for news of Joran. She wasn’t alone.
Many appeared to have stayed up all night to wait for his
return.

Oram saw her approach and couldn’t meet her
eyes. Those who knew felt they failed her as Wulfstan stepped over
their sleeping bodies in the hall to exact his vengeance upon her,
only feet away, and they could do nothing to protect her. She
cursed Elwynn for telling them. She knew the man suffered as she
did, and consoled him with a look that said she did not blame
him.

“
He should have been back by now,” she
remarked as Thora approached her with a tray of food. She disdained
to eat as she muttered to herself. “It has been hours!”

“
He will be here.” Oram took a seat at
the table. “Joran knows the mountain like the back of his hand,
having been raised here. He will find Wulfstan and justice will be
done this night. You would have been better served by having told
him the truth!”

“
I will not put my husband in danger by
giving Wulfstan what he craves! I can bear what was done to me! I
cannot bear to lose my husband!” she snarled low, determined none
of the others would know of her shame. Only those closest to her
knew.

Oram looked into his tankard and couldn’t
respond at her words, knowing she suffered greatly from the attack.
Wulfstan had much to answer for this day. He prayed his Chieftain
did the deed and the man who threatened them all was finally put to
death. He smiled as he saw his son sitting up now with Meghera’s
assistance and shook his head in awe. The lad had his strength, he
thought proudly.

Joran entered the hall and all eyes were
riveted upon the sight of his blood covered mail. Allisande rose
and ran to him. He caught her to him and stared down at the dark
head at his chest and sighed.

He lifted her chin and flinched from the
sight of her bruised face. He met her violet eyes with a look of
raw pain. She felt tears rise in her eyes as his look grew colder
as he surveyed the damage to her face, and knew it wasn’t done by a
fall now.

She would not meet his eyes as she stood away
from him. He stiffened, and she knew he knew the truth. His
tortured eyes never left her face and a cry of fury tore from his
lips as he turned and left the hall.

She followed him, her face filled with
determination. She ran to catch up, but his long-legged stride kept
him far ahead of her as he went to stand upon the bluff.

“
You had no right to stay silent,
Allisande!” Joran said through clenched teeth as moisture clouded
his gaze. “You could have told me! I would have been far less
inclined to show mercy had I known the truth!”