Redeeming Her Viking Warrior

‘Yes. My boat’s hidden, but I can’t row myself back to the mainland with an injured arm and if I go near a village then the person who did this will find me and finish what they started. They’re probably already out looking for me. I need somewhere to shelter until I’m able to defend myself again.’ He winced and sucked in a sharp breath. ‘Moon’s eye, but you have a strong arm, woman.’

‘I barely touched you.’ She threw a contemptuous glance at the linen binding the poultice. There was a red stain behind it, but not much. The blood looked as if it were already clotting, which meant that whatever damage she’d done was only minor. If what he was saying was true, however, then she could hurt him far more by sending him away. If he couldn’t go to one of the villages—and they were still few and far between—then he’d have a hard time surviving on his own and she’d be condemning him to more suffering. Frankly, she might as well not have bothered saving him in the first place. But she was still angry and she still didn’t want him there! Of all the people she might have found and helped, why did it have to be a warrior?

‘I’m telling the truth, I swear it.’ He seemed to sense her hesitation.

She rolled her eyes to the sky and then sniffed the air

, her mouth watering suddenly at the scent of his stew. It smelt delicious. Perhaps he hadn’t lied about being a good cook, after all. In which case, even if healing him was going to be a longer task than she’d anticipated, perhaps there might be one consolation...

‘We should eat,’ she said decisively, scooping some of the stew into a bowl and sitting down on the opposite side of the fire pit.

‘Does that mean you’ll let me stay?’ He gave her a searching glance.

‘For tonight. Since you cooked.’

‘Thank you. And tomorrow, if you let me stay longer, I’ll make myself useful. I’ll keep out of your way and there’ll be no more talk like before, I promise.’

‘Good, or I’ll cut your arm off next time.’ She took a mouthful of stew and then looked up at him in surprise. It tasted even better than it smelled, dissolving in succulent chunks on her tongue. She couldn’t imagine what he’d done to it, especially considering the paucity of the ingredients, but she hadn’t tasted anything so good since...she couldn’t remember when.

‘What do you think?’ He was watching her eagerly, she realised, as if he were actually keen to hear her opinion.

‘Not bad.’ She refused to compliment him. ‘But I still don’t want you here, Norseman.’

‘I know.’

‘I don’t like people, especially warriors. That’s why I live alone.’

‘I understand, but...’ he spread his hands out in appeal ‘...please?’

‘I’ll think about it.’ She ladled out another spoonful, picked up his sword belt and started towards her roundhouse. ‘You can sleep beside the fire tonight. It’s not going to rain.’

‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’

‘Hmm.’ She ignored his words of gratitude, whistling for Tove and Halvar to follow her instead. Tove got up obediently, but Halvar only lifted his head briefly before lowering it back on to his paws.

‘Is he going to sleep out here, too?’ The warrior sounded faintly concerned.

‘It looks that way.’ She stopped in her doorway and shrugged. ‘If you don’t like it, you know what you can do.’

* * *

‘I need logs.’ Sissa dropped an axe on to the ground beside the warrior Danr’s head. It landed with a satisfyingly loud thump, startling him awake.

‘What? What’s happening?’ He shot upright, reaching for his absent sword, and then groaned at the manoeuvre.

‘Logs,’ she repeated, refusing to show any sign of sympathy. If he really wanted to stay then she had no intention of making life easy for him. Quite the opposite, in fact, no matter how handsome he looked, with his blond hair sticking out at wild angles around his ridiculously sculpted cheekbones. And how was it possible to have eyes quite so blue and piercing? ‘See that pile of branches over there? They need chopping into logs. Do you think you can manage that?’

‘If that’s what you want.’ He blinked a few times, as if he were still trying to wake up. ‘It might take me a little longer than usual, but I’ll get it done.’

‘Good, but first you can wash. You smell terrible.’

‘And good morning to you, too...’ he lifted his left shoulder and sniffed ‘...although you might have a point.’

‘I’m surprised Halvar could bear to sleep so close to you.’ She glared at the wolf who only stood up, yawned and stretched.

‘Is that what you call him, Halvar?’

‘Yes. It means guardian of the rock. He came down from the mountain a year ago, so it seemed fitting.’