Michelle Styles - Sold To The Viking Warrior

Liddy squared her shoulders. No one was going to stop her. She would get her father and brother released. There had been a misunderstanding. Unlike her late husband, her father had sworn an oath of allegiance to the Northman overlord at the first opportunity. To protect his people and the land he’d been entrusted with by his father, he swore. Peace brought its own prosperity and it was the land which mattered. Cennell Fergusa had to endure on this land. It was in their blood and sinew.

Her hand balled into a fist. Even the Northmen in their great fortress had to have some sort of honour. They, too, had laws and a king. The Northern jaarl simply had to be reminded of his obligations. He would see it was in his best interest to hold fast to the laws. He wanted peace and prosperity, not war with the islanders. And there was a tiny part of her which hoped that her seanmhair was right and she would bring good luck to the family.

‘You walk with a determined step and a strong purpose,’ a faintly accented voice said behind her, making her jump. ‘Most people would shun this place at this hour.’

She half-turned and saw the same cloaked figure she’d been ignoring for the better part of an hour. The man had started following her a good mile or two back. He was tall and his face was hidden. There was no stoop in his back or shuffle in his step. Or rather not when he considered no one was watching. Under her gaze he seemed to shrink and hunch his shoulders as if he was attempting to seem less than he was.

She forced a steadying breath. No need to be frightened of a solitary man, not with Coll by her side and a knife stuck in her belt.

‘What business is it of yours?’ she asked and advanced another step on the path. She was glad that her remaining gold necklace was safely sewn into the hem of her gown. Nowhere that any robber would think to look. It was not much, but her mother had insisted. If she could not appeal to the Northman’s honour and respect for the law, she could buy her father’s and brother’s freedom. Liddy had agreed more out of hope than expectation. There was no room for error. She knew what would happen if she failed, but she had to do something. ‘How do you know where I go?’

‘Unusual to encounter a lone woman on the road at this hour.’ His gaze took in her cloak. ‘Particularly one of high birth.’

‘I’ve business at the Northman’s fortress.’ Liddy resisted the temptation to pull the hood across her face and hide the curse. Instead she curled her hand about her knife and threw back her shoulders. Maybe the stranger would take one look and decide a cursed woman was not worth bothering with.

Coll, sensing her mood, raised his hackles and gave a low growl.

The man stepped back a few steps and held up his hands. Coll flopped down at her feet, but kept a wary eye on the man.

‘You are brave or foolhardy in the extreme going near that fort without a protector. Do you know how they treat attractive women?’

‘My dog is my champion. He dislikes strangers, particularly Northmen who begin talking without a proper introduction,’ she said between gritted teeth. Attractive? Hadn’t he seen the mark on her face? ‘Even the Northmen at the fort have to obey their own laws.’

‘It has been some time since I have encountered anyone like you. Such bravery in the face of overwhelming odds. Unusual for a woman,’ he said, slowly lowering his hands and risking a step closer. Coll gave another low growl.

‘Flattery fails to work with me. I know what I am.’

His face took on a guarded expression. ‘We both travel in the same direction. What is wrong with a little conversation to pass the journey? Have you considered how you will get into the stronghold to put your petition? It is well guarded these days. They don’t just allow anyone in and lone unprotected women rarely emerge.’

‘Have you been there recently? Is it true that they keep the entrance guarded, only allowing people in at certain times?’ she blurted out.

The stranger tilted his head to one side and Liddy caught an intense blue stare before his hood obscured his features. ‘The gate is locked at owl-light each night. They do not allow anyone in or out. During the day, everyone entering or leaving is searched. Thorbin, Lord Ketil’s current representative, is cautious. There is resentment on the island.’

‘You are one of the Northmen,’ she said, hearing the faint traces of the heavy Northern accent, but laced with the slight lilt of her native tongue. Normally Northmen growled their words, making it difficult to understand them. ‘But you speak my language better than most. Unusual.’

‘You are a Gael.’ He looked her slowly up and down, from the bottom of her travel-stained gown to the top of her couver-chief from which a few tendrils of hair kept escaping. Again she resisted the urge to hide the birthmark. ‘Most Gaels take better care of their women rather than simply providing them with a large dog before sending them to bargain with one of the most notorious men in the North. Have you considered what he will do to you when you lose?’

Liddy kept her hand on Coll. He couldn’t have guessed about the necklace, could he? Using her knife on him would be possible, but he would have to be closer. She would have one chance and the point where his throat met his shoulder was her best option. The quickest way, according to her late husband, who had liked to boast of his expertise in battle.

Her body went numb at the thought of killing a man, any man, but particularly this one who seemed so full of life.

‘Most men would think twice about tangling with my dog,’ she said instead. ‘They will let me go once I’ve finished my business. They will be men of honour. They will keep the promise Lord Ketil made to my father.’

The words rang even more hollow to her ears than before. But if she lost this slender hope, she might as well turn back. She had to believe this miracle was possible and that she lived for some reason beyond a cruel joke by God. It had come to her that perhaps she had been spared so that she could do this thing—rescue her father and brother and somehow atone for her part in the twins’ death. She had tried so hard to rescue them.

‘I’ve seen dogs die before. A pity. He seems like a good and faithful animal.’

‘I’ve seen men back away from him before.’ Liddy wrenched her mind from the day shortly after the twins’ deaths when she’d encountered the Northmen on the track which ran along the headland. Coll had guarded her well that day.

The man shrugged and Liddy became aware of the strength of his shoulders. ‘You throw them a bit of meat and they are happy. Instant friends. Dogs have a simpler view of life.’

Liddy crossed her arms. This Northman might think he knew dogs, but he didn’t know Coll. ‘Not my dog. My dog distrusts strangers, Northmen in particular.’

His eyes flashed an intense blue. ‘I’m hardly one to refuse a challenge.’

‘You may try, but you are bound for disappointment. I know my dog. He is an excellent judge of character.’

He reached into his pouch and held out a piece of dried meat. A slight keening noise filled the air.

Coll, the traitor, took it from the man’s fingers with only a heartbeat of hesitation. The man reached down and stroked Coll behind the ears. Coll completed his surrender by lolling against the man.

‘Not all Northmen.’ The voice slid over her skin as if he had stroked her hair instead of Coll’s ears. ‘But maybe he senses that I could be a friend and an ally. You would do well to trust your dog’s instincts if he is such a good judge of character.’

‘I stand corrected and it is duly noted. I will not make that mistake again,’ she said through gritted teeth. Anyone would think that she was some sort of maiden from a convent who had never experienced men and their ways, rather than a widow. ‘Coll, come here.’ To the man, she said, ‘I will bid you good morning and be on my way. I’ve urgent business with Lord Thorbin, who will uphold the law once the truth of the matter is explained.’