Stolen By The Viking (Sons 0f Sigurd Series Book 1)

by Michelle Willingham

  * * *

  Breanne rode with the soldiers towards her father’s lands, but inwardly, she could not shake the premonition that something was wrong. When they stopped to make camp for the night, Darin came to help her down from the horse.

  She smiled at the captain. ‘Thank you.’

  He guided her towards a clearing where one of the men was attempting to build a fire. ‘Come and warm yourself,’ he offered. The night air was cool, and she was eager to rest. Her thoughts remained troubled, and although she knew she had made the right choice to go with them, she could not stop thinking of Alarr. He was handsome, and his dark hair and fierce fighting skills allured her. She had loved sleeping beside him at night, feeling his hard body nestled against hers. And his kiss haunted her still.

  He was a man living in darkness, bound to vengeance. She didn’t understand how he was willing to sacrifice his life in a fight with Feann. Did he really believe he had so little value? Even Rurik had tried to stop him from this path towards death.

  An ache settled within her at the thought. She knew what it was to feel as if no one wanted you. The solitude held an oppressive weight, and she understood the feeling of isolation. But for a brief moment it had seemed as if there was a connection between them before he’d pushed her away.

  You made the right choice, her brain reminded her. He was only intending to betray you.

  And yet, she somehow didn’t believe that. When she had ridden away from the Hardrata settlement, she had caught Alarr staring at her with longing. Despite his cruel words, it seemed as if he didn’t want to let her go. Her own feelings had been torn and confused, for it seemed as if his words and actions were in conflict. He had claimed she meant nothing at all to him...but she sensed that it was a lie.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ the captain asked.

  ‘A little.’ She held out her hands to the fire, trying to warm herself. He went to his saddle bag and withdrew some dried meat. He gave her the venison, but it was tough to gnaw. She struggled with the meagre food, and he gave her a sip of ale from a drinking horn.

  Darin sat nearby, and she waited for him to ask questions. Surely, he would want to know what had happened to her. But instead, he said nothing, only staring into the fire. For a time, Breanne thought she should begin a conversation or at least try to talk to him. But there was only silence.

  It felt as if she had been forgotten by everyone...as if her disappearance meant nothing. She had wanted to believe that she was Feann’s adopted daughter, to feel as if she belonged at Killcobar. All these years, she had tried to shape herself into the woman he wanted her to be. She had remained passive and obedient, quiet in the shadows. But now, it was clear that she had always been an outsider. No one had even noticed when she’d gone.

  Breanne forced back the self-pity as her frustration rose higher. Though she wanted answers, did it even matter what they thought any more? They had abandoned her, and it was time to stop living her life to please others. No longer would she allow them to shape her destiny. This time, any decisions made would be her own.

  At last, she spoke. ‘Why did no one come for me during the past few weeks?’

  The captain tossed a brick of peat into the fire and shrugged. Which was no answer at all. She waited again in disbelief, her anger rising. ‘Am I worth so little to everyone?’

  He hesitated and admitted, ‘I know it must have seemed like this.’

  ‘Then tell me what happened,’ she demanded. ‘Where is Feann now?’

  Darin glanced over at his men, who quietly excused themselves to give them privacy. He stared into the fire for a long while, as if searching for the right words. ‘He travelled to the west. King Cerball asked for his help with an escaped prisoner. We sent word to him after you were gone, but I know not if he received our messages.’

  She stared hard at him. ‘And you didn’t think you should send other men to search for me?’ Her irritation heightened at his lack of effort, though she realised that it was possible Feann hadn’t known she was a captive—especially if he had been travelling. The flames flared against the peat bricks, a bright orange colour against the night sky.

  ‘We should have,’ he confessed. ‘But then, Styr Hardrata sent word to Killcobar that you were at the Lochlannach settlement.’ His expression turned guilty, and he said, ‘I am sorry you felt abandoned, my lady. That was never our intention.’

  She supposed she ought to feel relieved that soldiers had come to bring her home at last. But instead, she was starting to question all that had happened. Alarr had openly admitted that he didn’t trust Feann’s men, so why should she? Moreover, was it possible that one or more of them had conspired with the man who had sold her into slavery? For what purpose? She didn’t believe Darin would do such a thing, but it made her wonder whom she could trust.

  She had once believed she could trust Alarr. And yet, he had let her go.

  Her heart gave a curious ache at the thought, and it made her suddenly think of his desire for revenge. Where was Alarr now, and was he still searching for Feann? She was afraid to imagine his intentions, and no matter what she said or did, she could not stop him. There was no choice but to warn her foster father.

  Darin’s face was shadowed, and he seemed preoccupied by something. He stood, walking towards the edge of the forest. Once again, his attention seemed to be elsewhere, and she could not guess why. It was almost as if he were waiting for something. Or that he had sensed someone approaching. Soon enough, Breanne heard the sound of a horse, and Darin went towards the clearing, reaching for his sword. He spoke quietly to his men, and all went on alert. Breanne couldn’t say whether there was truly a threat, but her instincts warned her to hide. She backed away into the shadow of the trees, wondering if she was foolish for doing so.

  A twig snapped from behind her, and she spun.

  ‘Are you well?’ came a low voice from the shadows.

  Breanne bit back her surprise and suppressed a curse. ‘Alarr?’ He moved closer, and her mood tensed at the sight of him. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I followed you to ensure that you were safe. I don’t trust these men.’

  ‘You don’t trust anyone,’ she pointed out. Though she ought to be irritated that he had tracked her, another part of her was startled that he would care. And despite her better judgement, she warmed to it.

  He didn’t argue with her but reached for her hand. His palm was warm, callused from fighting. She remembered the sensation of those fingers trailing over her skin, and she could not deny the thrill of memory.

  When she walked back towards the campsite, he kept her hand in his, and she saw Rurik holding a sword and shield, staring at the captain and his men. Though he hadn’t provoked a fight, it was clear that he was diverting their attention.

  ‘Darin,’ Breanne said.

  He kept his weapon in hand as he turned back to her. When he saw her holding Alarr’s hand, he froze and waited for her command. ‘My lady, do you want me to send them away or let them stay?’

  ‘It wouldn’t matter, even if I did want them to go. Alarr would not leave.’ Even so, her heart gave a sudden thrill of anticipation. She was unaccustomed to being followed, and she didn’t know whether to be flattered or frustrated. ‘They can stay.’ To Rurik, she said, ‘You may set up your camp over there.’

  She wanted to maintain a distance between them to guard her wayward feelings. Alarr kept her hand in his, and his thumb was drawing lazy circles over her palm. The simple touch went deeper than she’d imagined, and she could feel the echo of the caress in other places.

  ‘You didn’t just follow me to ensure my safety,’ she murmured. ‘There was another reason.’ Her brain warned her to strengthen the walls around her feelings. He is using you. It wasn’t wise to imagine that he wanted her for anything other than to get close to Feann.

  He leaned in close so that she could feel his breath a
gainst her ear. ‘You are still mine, Breanne.’

  Her mouth went dry, and she felt her restlessness brewing. Alarr gazed at her with undisguised interest, and every memory of his touch came back to her. She remembered the feeling of his heavy body pressed above hers, and the way she had melted into him.

  But those memories wouldn’t change the rift between them. She let go of his hand, rebuilding her self-defences. She could not trust this man, despite how he had already saved her life. Alarr had already admitted that he would not set aside his vengeance for her. And how could she care for a man who wanted to hurt someone she loved? It was impossible. The thoughts burdened her, making her wish she could simply lock her heart away.

  The ache of regret weighed upon her, for she had let herself long for someone she couldn’t have. He doesn’t want you. No one did, it seemed. And it was hard to push back the loneliness when she had never had any true family or loved ones. Feann was the only person to show her kindness, and even he had abandoned her.

  She needed to find the strength to live her own life without relying on anyone else. Although she would return to Killcobar with Darin and his men, no longer could she live a shadowed life where no one cared if she was there or not. And no matter what feelings she had towards Alarr, she would cut them off. It was better to be alone than to be used and discarded.

  But for now, she would listen and watch.

  Alarr led her towards the fire, and she sat on a fallen log. He took a place beside her, and then regarded Darin again. ‘Where is Feann now?’

  The man hesitated a moment. ‘King Cerball wanted him to—’

  ‘I asked where he is. Not what he is doing,’ Alarr interrupted.

  Darin eyed Breanne as if he didn’t want to answer. At last, he said, ‘I don’t know where Feann is now.’

  He wasn’t going to tell Alarr anything, and she understood that. But he could tell her the truth if she commanded it. And perhaps she could confront Feann and end the vengeance between Alarr and him.

  ‘But you do know where the escaped prisoner was being held,’ she pointed out.

  There was tension in his shoulders, as if he didn’t want to reveal too much. She understood that he was trying to protect Feann, for her sake. His loyalty was commendable.

  At that point, Rurik interrupted. ‘Alarr, I can join these men and escort Breanne to Killcobar if you want to go in search of Feann and the prisoner.’

  There was a silent glance exchanged between the men, and she wondered why Rurik would want them to split up. She was trying to decide what to say when Alarr’s gaze narrowed upon Darin. ‘There’s something you’re hiding from us, and it’s not about Feann. It has greater importance, doesn’t it? It’s the reason why he didn’t search for Breanne.’

  The captain shifted his gaze back to Breanne but made no denial. ‘My duty is to keep Lady Breanne safe.’

  ‘But there is another threat,’ Alarr guessed. ‘And I suspect it has something to do with the escaped prisoner.’

  The captain tried to keep his face expressionless, but Breanne saw the way he averted his gaze. There was something Darin was hiding.

  ‘Tell me,’ Breanne insisted. ‘I have the right to know the truth.’ He refused to meet her gaze, so she stood and drew closer. Her senses grew heightened as she waited for him to answer.

  At last, he lifted his head and regarded her. ‘You do.’ With a pause, he added, ‘The prisoner that King Cerball exiled was your mother.’

  Chapter Six

  Breanne’s heart was pounding with a blend of anxious nerves. ‘They told me she was dead. My father was executed, and I thought Treasa was killed alongside him.’ But now, she wondered if Feann had lied to her about everything.

  The captain shook his head. ‘Your father was executed for treason, and your mother was exiled. King Cerball has command of their lands at Clonagh.’

  For a moment, she felt as if she had been turned to stone. Everything she had known in her life was a lie. A tremor of anger took root and slowly kindled into rage. ‘And Feann knew she was alive. All this time, he knew.’

  Darin nodded. ‘Feann was trying to negotiate with King Cerball. He wanted you to reclaim your birthright by wedding a man loyal to Cerball. But Cerball denied him for years. Feann never told you because he didn’t know if he would be able to bring you back again.’

  She was already shaking her head. Right now, she felt as if her life had spun out of control, and she was struggling to grasp the truth. How could Feann have lied to her all those years about her family? The thought sickened her. She had believed that he cared for her like his own daughter. And now, it seemed that he had only been using her to solidify his alliance with Cerball and possibly gain command of Clonagh.

  One moment, she had planned to leave Killcobar behind and begin anew with her own choices. Now, it seemed that kings were manipulating her life, pulling her in directions she’d never imagined.

  There was only one person who could tell her the truth of what had happened. And she needed to understand all of it. She regarded Darin and asked, ‘Where is my mother now?’

  ‘If Feann was successful in capturing her, then likely she was returned to her exile at Dún Bolg,’ the captain answered.

  ‘What do you want to do, Breanne?’ Alarr asked. His voice was quiet, almost gentle. ‘You can go back with Rurik. Or if you want to go with me to Dún Bolg, I will escort you there. The choice is yours.’

  At first, she didn’t know whether to let him accompany her. But if Feann had already brought her mother to Dún Bolog, then likely her foster father was returning to Killcobar. It was better to keep Alarr away from Feann. ‘I want to see my mother.’

  She had so few memories of her past, and she didn’t even know if she would recognise Treasa. Was her mother aware of what had happened to her? Would she care at all? A fervent longing prickled within her with the hope that she did have at least one person to call family.

  ‘We can leave as soon as you are ready,’ Alarr offered.

  It surprised her that he wanted to travel by nightfall, but perhaps it would be safer. The moon was bright, and most of the journey would be through open fields. Breanne had never been to Dún Bolg, but she had heard that the lands lay towards the west.

  She gathered a few belongings, along with some food, while Alarr and Rurik spoke in the Norse language once more. Then the brothers bid one another farewell, embracing before Alarr brought his horse to her. He tied her bundle to the saddle and helped her mount.

  To the captain, she said, ‘I bid you and your men good fortune.’ Then she turned to Rurik. ‘Swear to me that you will not harm Feann.’

  He nodded. ‘I swear it. I only want information about what happened on the day we were attacked.’

  She believed he would keep his word. ‘I hope you learn the truth. Send word to me after Feann returns to Killcobar.’

  ‘I will.’

  Alarr swung up behind her and turned the animal westwards. Breanne leaned back against him as they rode. She said nothing, but during the ride, she was conscious of every line of his body. He was warm, his arms sheltering her from the cold. Her body ached from exhaustion, and in time, the swaying of the horse caused her to grow weary. Alarr seemed to sense her weakness, and he murmured against her ear. ‘Sleep, if you wish. I won’t let you fall.’

  She closed her eyes, grateful for his presence. ‘Thank you.’

  As she succumbed to her exhaustion, she was confused by the feelings of security. This man had been her captor, and now they were travelling together as equals. No longer did he seem like an enemy—instead, she grew aware that he had protected her at every moment.

  His very presence made her want to lower her defences—just for a moment.

  Alarr rested his cheek against her hair, and she indulged in the feeling of comfort, no matter that it was wrong. She told herself that it wasn’t real, e
ven as her wayward heart softened to his touch.

  * * *

  For the next few hours, they rode through the night along the edge of a winding stream, until the landscape shifted into rolling hills. Breanne slept against him, until at last, he came to a stop. The pale grey light of dawn creased the horizon, and she realised that they were in a part of Éireann she had never seen before. The green hills rose into a wooded area, but a road cut through the trees. In the distance, she saw mountains rising up, revealing a cashel atop the hillside.

  ‘Where are we?’ she asked.

  ‘A few miles outside of Dún Bolg,’ he answered. ‘My father spoke of it during his travels, but I’ve never been there before.’ He guided the horse up the hillside, and she then saw rock formations that provided natural shelter from the elements. ‘We’ll stop and sleep a while before we find your mother.’ He didn’t speak of Feann, though they both knew there was a chance that her foster father was still here.

  Alarr chose a small indentation in the rock, not quite a cave, but surrounded on all sides. He dismounted and helped her down. Breanne started to gather supplies for a fire while he tended the horse and led it to drink at a mountain stream trickling down the hillside.

  He chose a grassy place to tether the animal loosely, so the horse could graze. When he returned to their shelter, he nodded in approval at the kindling and wood she’d gathered. Alarr tossed her a flint, and she used her knife to strike a spark. She fed the spark dry grasses, blowing gently, before she added dry twigs and sticks. Eventually, she added wood, and she warmed herself at the flames.

  She hardly knew what to think of anything right now. Alarr had escorted her here, but she knew better than to imagine that it was for her sake. He wanted to confront Feann, whereas she wanted to see the mother she had never known. What could she even say to Treasa? Breanne had not seen her since she was two years old. The woman was naught but a stranger. Nerves gathered within her at the thought of seeing her mother.