Redeeming Her Viking Warrior

‘What would be the point?’ She put her hands on her hips with an exasperated look. ‘I went there to stop you taking foolish risks, Danr Sigurdsson. I’ll have wasted my time if you ruin things now.’

‘Ruin things? I was on my way to rescue you!’ He slid his sword back into its scabbard, his temper rising. ‘And you had no right to go there at all! You stole the pendants!’

‘I know, but we can argue about that later. As you can see, I didn’t need rescuing. Here.’ She shoved the leather pouch into his hands. ‘You can have them back now anyway. I’m finished with them.’

‘You’re finished with them?’

‘Hush!’ She reached up and clamped a hand over his mouth. ‘He won’t need to track us with all the noise you’re making. I said we can argue later.’

Danr fumed inwardly as she walked on again, his jaw tingling in the place where her fingers had just touched him, wanting to rant, but unable to deny the truth of her words either. He satisfied himself with a few muttered oaths, then followed grudgingly as they waded across the river and started to climb upwards.

‘Do I have permission to speak yet?’ He found his voice again when they turned to come back down the hillside, glaring at the back of her head.

‘If you must.’

‘Yes, I must. What do you think you were playing at, going there?’ He reached for her arm, spinning her round to face him. ‘I don’t understand. You’re the one who talks about being safe in the forest and not wanting to be around people. Then you go and do something like this! You put yourself in danger! Why?’

Her gaze faltered for a moment. ‘I told you, I want to help you get justice for your family.’

‘I said I didn’t want any help.’

‘I know, but it was a good idea.’

‘It was a damned good idea, but I told you not to go. You could have been hurt.’

‘But I wasn’t.’ She wrested her arm free. ‘Knut values my skills too much to let any harm come to me.’

‘Knut’s not the one you need to worry about. Joarr might have other ideas.’ He reached for her hand this time, needing to touch her, to assure himself that she was all right. ‘I was worried! If anything had happened to you I’d never have forgiven myself.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Her expression wavered. ‘I hoped I’d be back before you woke up. I shouldn’t have stolen your pouch, but it was necessary.’

‘No, it wasn’t! You were just lucky I slept longer than usual this morning, or I might have charged into the village after you and—Wait!’ He stopped mid-sentence. ‘That’s why you gave me the mead, wasn’t it? You wanted me to sleep longer! You planned this!’

‘Yes.’ She lifted her chin, her expression unrepentant.

‘You gave me that mead just so I would sleep! You tricked me?’

‘Not exactly. It’s not as if I poured it down your throat.’

‘It was still a trick.’ He ground the words out from between clenched teeth. Whether or not she’d forced him to drink anything, she’d done it with an ulterior motive. She’d done it to deceive him. It didn’t matter that she’d done it to help him. Just like at the massacre, he’d been tricked by a woman. Only this time it was a woman he’d trusted—a woman he loved. The betrayal felt ten times worse.

‘I’ll see you back at the roundhouse.’

‘Why? Where are you going?’

‘To make sure you’re not being followed!’ He shot her a savage look as she opened her mouth to object. ‘Not another word! I’m starting to think I preferred it when you didn’t talk. You do things your way. I’ll do them mine.’

* * *

Sissa heaved a sigh as Danr stormed away. It was a shame he’d woken up before she’d got back, but it couldn’t be helped. At least she’d done what she’d set out to do. She’d found out something important, something he’d want to know if he ever calmed down enough to come back and listen.

The extent of his anger had surprised her. She’d expected some, but she’d also expected him to calm down once he saw she was safe. She’d actually thought he might be glad she’d gone in his place, but he hadn’t even asked whether she’d seen Hilda, let alone shown her the pendants. Oddly enough, he seemed angrier about her giving him the mead than at her taking them, but it wasn’t as if she’d added a sleeping draught to his cup—although the thought had crossed her mind. All she’d done was make sure he’d had enough mead to ensure a heavy night’s sleep. Tricked seemed an excessive accusation.

She clicked her tongue for Tove. Halvar, as usual, had chosen to accompany Danr, which was probably a good thing under the circumstances. If Danr was too angry to be alert to potential dangers, then at least the wolf would notice them for him. Halvar would protect him, too, if it came to it, although she hoped it wouldn’t. She was probably imagining dangers that weren’t real anyway. Despite the granite look on Joarr’s face when she’d left, it had seemed to her unlikely that he would defy his kinsman, especially when he was living as a guest in his hall.

She made her way back to the roundhouse and scooped out some leftover stew from the pot over the fire pit. It tasted slightly burnt, but it was better than nothing. She ate a few mouthfuls, then fetched a needle and thread, trying to focus her attention on sewing. It was impossible. She stabbed her finger half-a-dozen times in the first minute before giving up. Maybe, after all, she had been in the wrong—about the mead anyway. Maybe she had gone too far and it had been an unfair trick, but her intentions had been good ones. She certainly hadn’t meant any harm. Not like—She pinched her lips and closed her eyes at the thought. Not like the woman who’d tricked him before, the one who’d lured him away while his family were slaughtered...

She stood up at the sound of footsteps, just in ti