Viking Warrior, Unwilling Wife

‘I am hardly that naïve. The sagas about my father rarely hold any truth. Do you know one actually claims he stole an egg from the nest of the great aurorc who sits on the top of the tallest pine tree in the forest?’ She shifted her weight and gave a little laugh. ‘Can you imagine? My father hates heights.’

‘And you are sure your father remains in the hall? You are not trying to stall me while he slips away, like a rat out of one of his fabled secret passageways?’

‘Secret passageways?’ Her defiant chin was in the air, but her eyes held a wary look as her hand plucked at the bottom of her mail shirt. ‘Such things are far more suited to sagas than real life. You really must stop believing everything you hear, Vikar. Truly, I say this as someone who once cared about your welfare.’

‘You lie.’ Vikar wrapped his fingers tightly about the hilt of his sword and regained control. ‘Your father showed me one, years ago when we were first married.’

‘You have a good memory, then.’ Her voice was chipped ice. ‘I had forgotten it. All I know is where I left him—in bed. Weak. He has not moved since the day after Hafdan and his men departed.’

‘Shall we put an end to our speculation?’

‘If you must, but I was enjoying our pleasant chat, Vikar Hrutson.’

‘You never could lie very well, Sela, but I will humour you.’ Vikar strode through the main hall, barely glancing to his left or right. It bothered him that Bose had decided to send his one remaining child out into battle while he stayed safely hidden. That Sela chose to fight did not surprise him. His former wife had never lacked courage. He had often thought she would be a better jaarl than her older brother. ‘One, two, three. Are you there, Bose the Dark?’

He pushed aside the curtains that concealed the jaarl’s chambers from the rest of the hall.

Empty. Still. Lifeless.

Sela released a breath and fought to keep her body upright.

Kjartan’s bird’s nest lay discarded to one side of the bed. She reached out and gently touched the delicate thing. Kjartan had been so proud of it. A lump rose in her throat. When would she see him again? When would she see her child again?

‘Where has your father gone?’ Vikar’s face was ice cold as he viewed her father’s empty chamber. ‘You knew they had gone when you told me to come here. I am through with your games.’

‘I am not my father’s keeper.’

Sela fought the urge to sink down on the floor and offer her thanksgiving up to Frejya, Sif or any of the gods and goddesses of Aesir who might be listening. Her father had escaped, as had Kjartan. They had not been with the women. They were away from this place and not under Vikar’s rule.

‘Tell me where you think he is.’

‘I was busy with other things, and I failed to see him depart.’ Sela struggled to keep the laughter from her voice. Her father and Kjartan had escaped and nothing else mattered. She looked at Vikar, meeting his hard, green gaze. She had forgotten how handsome she once thought him with his rugged blond features. Once they had made her pulse race, and then she had learnt the sort of heart they concealed.

‘You are too loyal. He left you to defend the hall and fled. He deserted you, Sela. Left you to die.’

Sela sobered and glared at him. ‘Did you expect him to stay?’

‘Coward was never a word I would have applied to Bose the Dark.’

‘He had his reasons.’

Sela forced her face to remain a bland mask. She was certain her father had escaped to save Kjartan, once he knew who was leading the raiding party. She had to protect Kjartan. She could not risk him meeting Vikar. Then there would be no doubting who the father was. With every movement Vikar made, she could see echoes of their son.

A child belonged to the father, after weaning age, according to Viken law. She curled her hand. She would never give her son up. Vikar had not wanted her, and he would not want her child. She refused to have her son grow up unwanted, and uncared for. She had seen how such children ran wild, and had vowed it would never happen to her child.

‘Is there anything else you wish to say, Sela?’

‘If you will permit me, Vikar, to retire to my chamber and change into my ordinary clothes, perhaps we can discuss this sensibly.’ Sela turned on her heel. Once she had changed, she would regain her balance, her control. She needed time to think and to plot her escape. ‘There I will ponder your request, and perhaps, given time, I might be able to remember where my father might have gone.’

‘No.’

Sela blinked at the unexpectedness of the sound, and swung around to face him. White-hot anger coursed through her. She clenched her fists, tried to control it. ‘What do you mean—no? You complained my attire was inappropriate. I am attempting to follow your wishes and please you.’

‘Please me? That is the last thing on your mind.’ Vikar crossed his arms and lounged against the doorframe, blocking her way. ‘You have no intention of doing such a thing. Your chief delight and pastime during our marriage was going against my wishes. Behaving how it best suited you, Sela. I know you far too well.’

Sela forced her lips to curve into a smile. ‘We are strangers, you and I, Vikar. We only thought we knew each other.’

‘You disappeared all too eagerly, Sela—ready to run from any unpleasantness.’ A muscle in Vikar’s jaw jumped. ‘In Kaupang four years ago, you left without a word. I came back to our chambers—emptied of all life. The next thing I discover is that you have divorced me.’

Breath hissed through Sela’s lips. She struggled to maintain a grip on her temper. Left without a word, indeed! She had waited and waited, wanting to believe in his innocence, and then his betrayal had been clear. He had given her no choice and so she had acted. ‘That is not my memory of the situation at all.’

Vikar made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, reminding her forcibly of Kjartan and why this man represented danger. ‘Enough of this foolishness. I do not give you leave to retire, to pretend as if nothing has happened. Your father broke his truce. He sent his men to raid Viken territory.’

Sela’s heartbeat resounded in her ears. An unprovoked raid?

‘Vikar, you have made a grave error of judgement. My father has not raided in years. Why should he? He earns enough from the trade of skins, soapstone and amber. Let us speak no more of his raiding, but instead of yours.’

‘Mine?’

She drew a breath and began listing the points on her fingers. ‘You did not come in peace. Dressed in chain mail and bearing shields, you and your warriors rushed towards us with drawn swords without issuing a proper challenge. We had the right to defend ourselves. Thorkell will be informed of this. We have that right.’

She watched with grim satisfaction as Vikar struggled for words.

‘Hafdan led a raid. He was stopped. I intend to have no more raiding parties threaten Viken. Thorkell will support me. I am the new jaarl of the north.’

Sela closed her eyes. Hafdan. She should have guessed. Vikar was correct. Thorkell would not support her father, would not send his men to avenge the raid. ‘And what happened to Hafdan?’

‘He perished as all vermin do.’ A muscle in Vikar’s jaw jumped. ‘He would never have gone anywhere without your father’s orders.’

‘They quarrelled. Hafdan left. Hafdan sailed under his own standard.’ She pressed her hands together. ‘My father and I knew nothing of the raid. He had no intention of bringing war to Viken. Do you mean to sack the hall?’

‘Bose’s lands are among the most profitable in Viken. This hall is fit for a king, let alone a jaarl. Why should I wish to destroy that?’

‘And my people? What will happen to them?’

‘Provided they show their loyalty to their new master, life will continue on as before.’

Sela dropped her head to her chest and felt a lump form in her throat. She would not have to watch her home burn, see the crops ploughed under and then have Vikar and his men leave. Her people would be spared that.

‘And what will become of me?’ she asked in a small voice, unable to stop herself

‘You are a problem I had not anticipated. Your father should have taken better care of you. He should have ensured your protection, rather than have you take charge of a rabble such as the one my men and I faced.’

‘It was my choice. My father did not have any say in the matter.’

‘Then is your husband amongst the fallen?’ Vikar lifted his eyebrow. ‘You should have said earlier. I send my condolences. Or perhaps it is why Hafdan left?’

‘Having experienced marriage once, and found it not to my liking, I had no great desire to return to the state, particularly not to someone like Hafdan. He was my father’s favourite, not mine.’ Sela kept her head high.