Redeeming Her Viking Warrior

‘It’s too dangerous.’

‘Why? I go every moon cycle.’

‘Because the man I fought with, Joarr, lives there now. He might suspect that you know something about me. He might ask you questions.’

‘I don’t speak. The villagers know that.’

‘He might still be suspicious.’

‘It will look more suspicious if I don’t go.’

His brow clenched. ‘I still can’t let you go alone.’

‘You can and you will. No one tells me where I can and can’t go.’

‘What if you need defending?’

‘Then I have this...’ she reached for her spear ‘...and two wolves. I don’t need a warrior to protect me.’ She started away and then looked back over her shoulder, clicking her tongue for Halvar, who immediately sat down.

‘Go.’ To her irritation, Danr gestured with his hand, urging the big wolf to follow. After a moment’s hesitation, he did, sauntering reluctantly across the clearing to join her.

She narrowed her eyes, resenting both his and the wolf’s behaviour. ‘I’m in charge of my own life and I make my own decisions. Don’t follow me.’

Chapter Nine

Danr crouched down on his haunches, placing Bitterblade within easy reach on the ground, before peering out from behind the edge of the boulder. There were several large ones here, scattered all along the edge of the forest, evidence of a rockfall from many years before. Which was particularly convenient since they gave him the opportunity to watch Erika-Bersa—he still hadn’t quite decided which name to call her—without her knowledge.

She was standing just beyond the tree line, looking out over the sea loch to the hills beyond, Tove on one side, Halvar on the other, as still and silent as a boulder herself. He’d been afraid he might arrive too late, since he’d had to follow at a cautious distance and keep upwind in case the wolves caught his scent, but by the look of things none of the villagers had arrived yet. Even so, he was further away from her than he would have liked. What if she needed him? What if Joarr threatened her? What if the massive sea eagle swooping low over the water decided to aim its ferocious-looking beak at her head?

None of which was likely, he knew. He was overreacting about all of it. It would make no sense for Joarr or any of the villagers to threaten or attack her. Never mind that she’d lived in this forest by herself for three years without anyone else’s protection. She’d only been telling the truth when she’d said she didn’t need him, but he still hadn’t been able to let her come alone. The thought of her being in potential danger made his heart thump and his chest feel tight—much the way he’d felt when she’d asked if he wanted to mate with her. For the first few seconds after she’d said the words, he’d assumed he must have misheard, or misinterpreted her at least, but she’d definitely said mate, as if the idea were actually within the realms of possibility. Of course it hadn’t taken her long to add that she didn’t want a mate—which had come as both a massive relief and a crushing blow at the same time. Even now he wasn’t sure which emotion was dominant. It ought to be relief, he knew, but if he were completely honest...

Fortunately, at that moment his attention was distracted by the arrival o

f a small group of people, five in total, two women and three men, one of them leading a horse with a litter trailing behind. As they came closer, he could just make out the shape of a person lying on the back. Six people, then, though the last seemed in no condition to fight. They stopped a few feet away from Erika-Bersa, one of the women gesturing towards the litter, and then another man stepped forward and... Joarr? Danr was halfway to his feet, clenching the grip of his sword before common sense prevailed. For a fleeting second he thought he saw Erika-Bersa’s head twist slightly towards him, before he dropped down behind the boulder and it was impossible to tell.

He took a calming breath and stretched out flat on his stomach, wriggling around the other side of the boulder to watch what was happening. Erika-Bersa was leaning over the litter now while the other villagers had fallen back, waiting with anxious expressions while she performed her ministrations. Only Joarr hadn’t moved, standing exactly where he’d been before.

Danr kept his eyes fastened on the old warrior’s face, watching for any sign of aggression, but fortunately he seemed calm. When she’d finished tending to the person on the litter, Erika-Bersa stood up and another man approached her, rolling his sleeve up to show her his wrist. She examined it, passed him something from her basket and then one of the women came closer, handing her a bundle which she took without looking at her. Finally, Joarr himself stepped forward, saying a few words before lifting his tunic and pointing at his side.

Danr gritted his teeth, watching in horror as Erika-Bersa reached into her basket again, withdrew a small pot, dipped her fingers inside and then rubbed them over his enemy’s torso. His bare torso! Anger shot through him, accompanied by a bolt of jealousy so fierce he could actually see red spots dancing in front of his eyes. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know who Joarr was. He’d told her that the person who’d tried to kill him lived in the village! And if Joarr was showing her a sword wound then surely it wasn’t hard to work out that he’d been in a sword fight recently? Couldn’t she guess who he was? Didn’t she have any loyalty?

No. The thought brought with it a fresh burst of anger. Of course she didn’t have any loyalty to him. She was only tolerating him under sufferance, that was all. He didn’t mean anything to her, no more than she ought to mean anything to him. She didn’t even want him there! And that made him even angrier.

He waited until she’d finished with Joarr before sliding Bitterblade into his scabbard and storming away.

* * *

Sissa didn’t look back. It was one of her rules. Looking back suggested either interest or fear and when it came to her dealings with the villagers she was determined to show neither—especially now, in front of the old warrior whose eyes she could feel boring into the space between her shoulder blades.

He’d asked her about Danr, or at least about whether she’d seen an injured warrior with flaxen hair and a cut to his upper arm, and it hadn’t been hard to guess the reason. Even if he hadn’t also walked with a slight limp, his questions would have given his identity away. This was the man who’d tried to kill Danr, the one he’d called Joarr...

She kept walking, glancing sideways briefly towards a crushed patch of grass beside a boulder on the edge of the clearing. Just as she’d suspected, Danr had followed her, though she wasn’t as angry about it as she’d expected to be. Even though he’d gone against her wishes, part of her was actually touched that he’d been worried enough to follow her.

She went deeper into the forest for a while, making sure she wasn’t being followed, before heading back to the clearing. The afternoon sky was leaden, threatening heavy rain to come, though Danr appeared to have made no further progress on his shelter. Instead, he was busily chopping logs when she arrived, swinging an axe in his left hand with such force that he looked in danger of splintering the chopping block, too. He’d removed his tunic so that his chest was bare except for the leather pouch he always wore around his neck and his trousers hung low on his hips, giving her an unobscured view of rippling back muscles as he swung back and forth.

She stopped, enthralled by the sight for a few seconds, before realising what she was doing and hurrying inside to put her basket away. Carefully, she hung the leftover herbs up in the rafters of the roundhouse, then put the pots inside a coffer just the way Coblaith had shown her. Then she picked up a comb and went back outside, sitting down by the fire pit as she started to unravel the knots in her hair.

Danr, she noticed, was chopping wood even more vigorously than before. It was obvious he was upset, though he could hardly tell her why without also revealing that he’d followed her. Still, she had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to remain silent for long—and it was no hardship watching his half-naked body in the meantime. In truth, it was quite engrossing. Surprisingly affecting, too, if the tingling sensation in her abdomen were anything to go by...