Michelle Styles - Saved by the Viking Warrior

The consequences of being distracted by beauty were deadly. He had learnt that lesson in Norway. No, the Lady Cwenneth in her way was just as black-hearted as Ingrid had been. And her earlier remarks about the dress being ruined showed how her mind worked—she did not care about people, but things.

‘He wanted everyone dead and I’m alive,’ she said in a low voice. ‘He’ll kill me if he finds me. He’ll come after you as well once he knows.’

‘I want him to wonder who is buried and who did the burying,’ Thrand answered shortly. ‘I want him unsettled. I want him to wonder if you are dead out in those woods or not. I want him to know fear for once.’

‘Do you fear him?’ She shivered and wrapped her arms about her waist, and her shoulders hunched. ‘I do. What sort of man does what he did? Makes such orders?’

‘Not in a fight.’ Thrand’s hand went instinctively to his sword. ‘I have studied how he fights in battle. Utterly predictable. Always goes for the downwards thrust followed by a quick upwards one to finish his opponent off. Never varies. And he hangs to the rear rather than leading from the front.’

Her crystal-blue gaze met his—direct and determined. ‘Hagal doesn’t fight fair. Ever. He looks for the weakest point and goes for it. He did this with...with Lord Edward.’

‘What did he promise Lord Edward to make him cough up his sister?’ he asked silkily. ‘What did the Lord of Lingwold hope to gain?’

‘Peace and your head.’ She lifted her chin, every inch the proud lady. ‘Does it bother you to know you are hated that much?’

Thrand schooled his features. Despite everything he thought he knew about Northumbrian ladies and their empty-headedness, a reluctant admiration filled him. She might be beautiful, but she also had a brain which was full of more than feather beds, ribbons and embroidery.

‘How did murdering you get the Lord of Lingwold my head? Everyone thinks I’m in Jorvik with the king.’ He allowed a smile to play on his lips.

Her brows drew together and finally she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Ask Hagal. He was hardly going to confide his intentions to me. Understandable in the circumstances, but aggravating as I’m sure you will agree.’

She inclined her head. Thrand fought the unexpected urge to laugh. Lady Cwenneth had more than a bit of grit to her. He sobered, but it didn’t mean he should trust her one little bit.

Thrand turned the matter over in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more far-fetched it seemed. Marriages took a long time to negotiate. No one knew he would be in the area. He hadn’t known until a few days ago that he’d be travelling north. But there was a method to Hagal’s madness. He always played a long game.

Why did Hagal need the Lady Cwenneth’s death? Why now? How would killing her bring Lord Edward Thrand’s head? And what did Hagal get out of it? He drew a steadying breath.

The answer would come to him as he travelled north and before he arrived back in Jorvik for the Storting. Then he’d know precisely how to deploy Lady Cwenneth to destroy Hagal once and for all. For too long that particular Norseman had eluded him.

‘Well?’ she asked, tapping her slipper on the ground. With her set chin and fierce expression, he could almost believe she was descended from the Valkyries. ‘Do you have the answer? It would make me feel safer if I did.’

‘You will have your opportunity for revenge. I trust you will use it well as I doubt you will get a second chance.’

‘One chance is all I will need. He will not rise when I am done.’

‘And you are certain of that? What are you going to do? Plunge a knife in his throat? Are you capable of that?’

All fight went out of her shoulders. Instead of an avenging Valkyrie, all was naked vulnerability and confusion. Lady Cwenneth was no shield maiden. ‘I have no idea. All I know is he should die for what he did. Hopefully you are right about this.’

‘I know I am right...this time,’ Thrand muttered and tried not to think about the unquiet dead he’d failed.

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