Viking's Love (7 page)

Allisande thought of Collin’s reaction when
he returned to their home to find it destroyed and bit her lip in
anguish. She loved her brother. Though he was four summers older
than her, they were close. She cringed of how he must feel. He was
much like their father in his pride and ambitions.

Though she didn’t agree with him on matters
concerning her future, she knew he loved her. They argued bitterly
before he left for the king’s court in London. He promised to find
her a husband. She hurled abuse upon his head in response. How
dearly she would have liked to recant those rash words now,
wondering if she would ever see him again.

Allisande stared at her hands and clasped
them to keep them from trembling. When it was known she was a
Viking’s captive, no man would have her. She would be ostracized.
While it had been her desire to remain unwed, it was quite another
thing to be declared soiled and scorned for matters beyond her
control.

She had no control over the Viking carrying
her off. It was unfair, but there was little hope of a decent
marriage if she was ransomed back. Collin would be angry and seek
to avenge her. He had to deal with the reality at Lockwraithe on
top of all. She muttered under her breath when she wondered how
long she would remain the Berserker’s captive.

Collin would have to beg funds to pay her
ransom. She pictured her handsome brother rushing off to court to
demand the nobles assemble and assist him to meet the Viking’s
price. She smiled in renewed relief. Collin would not let her
languish as a Viking’s captive for long.

Allisande was brought out of her revelry from
the fearful cries of the serfs as they were rousted out of the
hold. They were brought out onto the deck. Her heart ached for them
and their fate.

She would have liked to go to them and tell
them to be strong and face whatever their future held for them. Her
short tether only allowed her to get near enough to hear the
Vikings comment on how much each would bring at the auction.

Her eyes narrowed to slits as they
discussed this amongst themselves.
They
would be sold like cattle
, she thought bitterly. The
thought made her feel ill. She felt fresh tears spring anew at the
thought of those gentle souls at the mercy of their Viking
captors.

Her father’s people had all been born at
Lockwraithe, as were their parents before them. They would be
terrified to be in a strange country with such a barbaric race of
people governing them.

She thought of Elspeth and cringed at the
girl’s desperate act. She couldn’t bear to face her own fate, but
whatever that was; she couldn’t take her own life to escape it.

Allisande would live to see Joran Ivarsson
pay for what he did to her family if it was with her last dying
breath. She sat down huffily to wait for Stonehearted. She wondered
what he did to deserve such a nickname.

Allisande shivered to recall the lack of
mercy during the raid. Thinking of the destruction of her home, she
stiffened with renewed outrage. She listened to the moans and cries
of the serfs as they were led off the ship with a hard lump in her
throat.

Just then, the flap to the enclosure was
thrown back. The redheaded Viking named Grogan entered with young
Sarne at his side. Her violet eyes filled with dread to see their
grim expressions. Her chin came up despite the terror she felt
inside. Grogan approached and leaned down to jerk her up by her
ropes.

“
You get your wish today, Allisande of
Lockwraithe. You get to kill another Viking, if luck is with you.”
Grogan pulled her along behind him, leaving the
enclosure.

Allisande balked at the ropes, eyeing him in
uncertainty as he pushed her to the gangplank off the ship. “What
do you mean?”

“
Ivar has decided to let Hagar’s widow
choose a champion to fight you to the death.”

Allisande would probably have to fight a man
three times her size and weight. The Viking leader was giving her a
way to live and allow himself to save face with his people, nothing
more. She’d not squander it with self doubt. She was relieved to
know she still had a chance, even if such odds weren’t
favorable.

“
The fight will be short one.”
Allisande saw Grogan carried her sword in his belt. “Aye, this
pleases me well to kill another of you, I think.”

“
You seem sure you will
win.”

Allisande gazed up at Grogan and shrugged. “I
have nothing left to lose, Viking. You have taken all else from me.
What is left to me but my life?”

Grogan eyed the raven-haired beauty with
grudging respect. “Hakon isn’t much with a sword, but he fights
dirty. Be on your guard for his tricks.”

Allisande was surprised the Viking sought to
help her with his admission and gave little sign she appreciated
his gesture of support. “If I win, do I get to go home?”

“
If you win, you get to live,” Grogan
snapped back and shook his head at her fierce scowl. “You forget
what you have done. Danik was Wulfstan’s brother, who is also a son
of Ivar’s. He is being lenient only to appease Joran, nothing more.
If not for my Chieftain being Ivar’s favorite, you would be dead
already, Wench!”

“
I think you Vikings have a strange way
of showing mercy.”

“
We don’t show mercy to our enemies,”
Grogan said harshly. “This is merely a way for Ivar to pacify all
of those involved.”

“
Lead on, Viking, I’d rather bandy
swords than tongues with you.” Allisande smirked at Grogan’s
disgusted look as she was led off the Viking ship to a nearby
wagon. Sarne and Grogan put her in the back and ignored her while
they made their way back to Ivar’s residence.

She took her mind off the upcoming battle by
looking about the bustling city of Oslo. The Viking city was much
like an English one, except for their attire and the design of
their homes. She fought against the trembling inside herself to
think of what was to come.

Allisande was disappointed she couldn’t win
her freedom, but promised she would escape if she managed to live
to see the end of this day. Shivers of fear filled her but she
resolved to go down swinging her sword until her last breath.

Joran was looking daggers at Wulfstan when
Grogan arrived back with Sarne. Allisande was tied to the chair at
their table until they were ready to commence with the
entertainment. Hakon was so sure of himself; he was well into his
cups now, bragging loudly from nearby.

Joran glowered at the pleased expression on
Allisande’s face. She was unafraid. Her stoic acceptance annoyed
him, making him feel respect for the dainty Englishwoman who would
die by day’s end.

She appeared to be gloating. He sat across
from her and snatched the sword from Grogan’s belt and sawed
through her bindings. She rubbed her chaffed wrists and claimed her
sword from him, her hand stroking the hilt confidently as she eyed
her opponent.

“
Is that the one I am allowed to kill?”
She laughed outright, her full lips curving into a smile of
pleasure. Her perfect teeth all showed to see the man stagger,
obviously drunk.

“
Do you a favor and at least appear
afraid for your own sake, Girl. My father is known to be
unpredictable when it amuses him. Don’t force him to show you how
cruel he can be.”

“
I’m not afraid to die, Viking. Mayhap
you are afraid to watch it, eh? It is you who have brought me to
this!”

Joran glared at her, not trying to defend
himself there. She was right. The fact she met Hakon in the pit was
due to his stupidity in bringing her with them. “You fight in the
pit behind you, Allisande. There is little room to run or move
about. My advice, take him by surprise as you did Danik and Hagar.
Should he get his hands upon you, it is over.”

“
My thanks, Viking,” Allisande replied
as she plaited her long hair into a heavy braid that dangled to her
hips, sarcasm heavy in her voice. “If I don’t get the chance to
kill you after today, I will be most disappointed.”

Joran raised a golden eyebrow. “I look
forward to that future challenge, Allisande, and hope you live to
realize such an improbability in that.”

Allisande refused to argue with him, thinking
of what was to come. She shivered despite herself to know she would
be lowered into a pit into the ground where she couldn’t get away
from the hulking blond man. Hakon boasted loudly at the far table,
drinking ale out of his own helmet. She watched him and
smirked.

The man thought a woman was little challenge.
He was as large as Joran, but hadn’t the skill with a sword. She
could take the man down if she could avoid being manhandled by
him.

“
I tried to make Ivar see reason, Girl.
I would not let you think I didn’t try to gain you some leniency,”
Joran said in a gruff apologetic tone. “He would not
relent.”

Allisande smiled coldly as she sat back in
her chair, eyeing her captor with a humorless smile. “When does a
Viking warlord like your father ever use reason? He would force a
mere woman to fight a man three times her size just to be allowed
to live? I see no reason there, just another means to humiliate my
family.”

“
Hakon has been drinking all
day—”

Allisande laughed and held up her hand. “I
appreciate your advice, Viking, but you have put me at enough of a
disadvantage already. I can’t even win my freedom! Is that not
true?”

“
Is your life not enough for
you?”

“
I would still be your
slave!”

“
Only until the spring when your
brother pays the ransom,” Joran allowed and eyed her moodily. “This
way none can argue the matter further. Wulfstan will have to be
content with the outcome.”

Allisande’s violet eyes filled with contempt.
“I think we both know my brother has no wealth to pay you with now,
Viking. You offer me life, but the life of a slave. What is the
point in it? Why shouldn’t I allow the man to cut me down and be
done with it?”

Joran felt impotent rage at her impassioned
words. His fiery slave had a point. What incentive did she have to
beat Hakon? The thought of her falling under Hakon’s floundering
sword made him regret ever taking her from her home again. He would
have her death on his conscience now.

“
Should you win the day, you get to
live, and none will seek to avenge those you killed. Wulfstan will
have to be content, no matter the outcome.” Joran sat back and eyed
the dark-haired beauty without expression, despite his growing
concerns for her. “Your brother will find the means to get your
ransom, have no fear. He likely has no choice but to wed you off
now.”

“
I have told you that Englishmen don’t
buy sullied wives, Viking. I’m worth nothing to my brother now,
because of you!”

“
We shall see what you are worth come
spring, Girl,” Joran bit out and ground his teeth at her continued
humor. “Methinks you might want to think more positively right
about now.”

Allisande leaned forward and smiled. “I’m not
afraid of that lout over there anymore than I am of you, Viking.
The only positive thing I can see right now is one less Viking in
this world when I’m done.”

Joran scowled at her taunting comments. He
was aware of Ivar’s eyes on them. His father was watching them with
interest. The older man assessed Allisande’s beauty from the high
table with a smirk of delight playing about his lips. He seemed to
approve of Joran’s prize, and relieved him by not demanding
Allisande for himself as he feared.

Ivar gestured to one of his men standing
near. Thumps of tankards on the table quieted the huge room. The
steel grate in the floor was pulled open. Allisande got up and
walked the few feet to peek over the side to see it was a room dug
out of the ground. It was nearly twelve feet deep and that many
wide. No room to run, indeed.

Joran pushed a tankard of mead towards her
when she returned to sit. “Drink before you meet your fate. I’ll
not have it said I offered you no kindness at the end, lady.”

Allisande pushed the tankard back, eyes
glittering with resentment. “I don’t need your kindness before I
kill your comrade, Viking. I’ll live to take your heart out with my
teeth before spring”

Joran watched her turn and jump down into the
pit, hearing the cheers in the hall as it filled up. Hakon
staggered to the edge of the grate and waved his sword, boasting
loudly, before he jumped down inside too.

The grate was pushed back into place. All
stared down into the pits to watch the two combatants circle one
another. The sight of the small Englishwoman dressed as a man made
many chuckle and joke.

Ivar stood in the center of the grate and put
up his hands to gain quiet. His pale eyes were filled with
excitement. “In honor of our fallen brother, Hagar, I offered his
widow, Inid, tribute in the form of a challenge. It will be
Allisande of Lockwraithe against our Hakon. The fight will be to
the death.”

A crowd gathered around the grate, all
watching downward, bloodlust in their rapt expressions.

“
You did what you could for the girl,
Joran. The rest is up to her.” Grogan watched Hakon swing his sword
within the pit with a grim look. Allisande appeared unimpressed
with the man, facing the giant Viking separated by a mere eight
feet, at most.

“
I should have left her at Lockwraithe,
Grogan,” Joran admitted, his eyes never leaving Allisande’s lovely
features. “If she dies or is wounded, it is my fault, no
others.”

“
You didn’t think Ivar would go this
far, my friend. There is no point in raking yourself over the coals
for it now. Wulfstan will be appeased this day, and Hagar’s widow,”
Grogan argued with a shrug. “You had to have known he would demand
something like this. When has he ever avoided making an issue
against you with Ivar?”