by AJ Adams
He looked out over the sea. “When we landed here, we thought it was temporary. We built our ship, stayed the winter, and in summer we headed north again. To discover the ice was still there, that we were cut off—” Rune sighed. “It took all my strength to keep us together. I got them building the village and working the mine to keep them busy. I was hoping there would be a thaw. But we went back last summer, and again a few months ago, but it’s no use. The ice is permanent. The narrow sea is blocked.”
“So you came to Brighthelme to trade.”
“Yes. They always buy our steel, and we needed food, supplies and medicines, but during the negotiation with the Steward, the Guild realised they outnumbered us.”
“They decided to take and not pay.”
“Right. When they burned the ship, I wanted to kill them all.” He was looking out over the sea, carefully avoiding my gaze. “I emptied the warehouse as compensation. The muskets were a bonus. I knew straight away we’d need to work to keep as many as possible. I gave the order to take the Citizens because I wanted them to suffer. And when they screamed and died, I rejoiced.”
I thought back, remembering my fear and fury.
“I was blind, possessed with rage,” he was trying to explain. “That first time when I took you, I was cruel. I wanted to hurt you. But then you fought, and you called me a coward.”
I had, too. My mind flashed back to Mina’s bruised face. Rune could have beaten me purple, but he hadn’t.
Those blue eyes were finally looking into mine. “That’s when I truly saw you. That night, I knew I wanted you.”
“Mine,” the word came out of nowhere.
“The more I learned about you, the more I wanted you. You’re brave, selfless and clever.” He stroked my hair. “You’re beautiful, too. When I look at you, I can’t breathe. You’re in my heart, in my mind, in my soul. Without you, I’m nothing.”
The words went straight to my heart.
“I forced you to stay, because I fell in love with you.” The arm around me tightened. “But also because I hoped that in time you’d forgive me. Maybe even love me.”
Far below us the Beasts were milling about, discussing their options, or rather, deciding what they’d do to me. I couldn’t stay to be a slave. It would kill me, even with Rune’s love. And I wasn’t convinced he could leave them. The Beasts were like bees, all of them functioning as one.
“I’d do anything to keep you, but I won’t let them hurt you,” Rune was rubbing a hand over my back, fingering the thickened skin where the whip had left scars. His eyes narrowed, turning darker. His fingers were digging into me, his face stormy. “I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
We sat on the grass, with me totally tearing up. I was in turmoil, my world thrown upside down. I didn’t belong in Haven or in Brighthelme. I didn’t like the people, and they didn’t like me. But did I like the Beasts?
I looked at the figures milling around at the bottom of the hill and tried to see them from the outside. They were hard, often violent and yet, when dealing with each other, they were thoughtful, and they cared. The Citizens had plenty, but they’d step over a dying beggar. The Beasts shared everything, from decisions to mushrooms.
As for Rune, he took what he needed, with no apologies or hesitation. He was a hard man, a survivor, but he wasn’t cruel. He’d rampage and kill when he was in a rage, but the Patriarch and his whipping post disgusted him.
I looked at the lean jaw, thin nose, and the sharp planes of his face—all of it hard, but the eyes were full of warmth and the hands gentle. I was remembering how he’d turned me on with just a word or touch. And those nights on the long march had become better and better and better. I was creamy just thinking about it.
“Oh!” He was grinning, knowing exactly what was running through my mind. We were leaning in, kissing, lips soft and tongues flickering. He was lifting me into his lap, his hands running up and down my back. “Love you,” he whispered.
He whipped off my tunic, kissing my neck, my breasts, and then licking my nipples. I could hear myself moan as want throbbed through me. His hands ran over my skin, the calluses tickling and teasing.
The throb became a beat, and I was soaking wet. My skin was tight, tingling in rippling circles as his tongue flickered over my nipples, sucking gently before moving back up to my neck and collarbones. He knew how to turn me on, and he was pushing all my buttons.
He definitely woke up the beast in me because I was tugging off his leathers, shucking mine, pushing him down in the grass, and leaning over him in record time.
His eyes were blazing into mine, laughing up at me, “Want me?”
“Yes!”
A split-second pause as I enjoyed the feel of his hardness against me, and then I thrust down, impaling myself on that hot, thick cock. He ran hands over my curves then held my hips. I rocked my hips, gasping as he flexed, piercing my core.
“Mine,” he growled.
We went wild, kissing and nipping at each other, thrusting and bouncing, moaning and wailing like beasts. It was beautiful, and when we shuddered to a gasping halt, I knew what I truly wanted. Rune had run off with me, but I’d given him my heart.
I slid onto his body, panting in his ear, feeling my sweat run down my sides, feeling his on his neck and chest. He was clutching me, arms hard around me. The sun streaming down on us, the birds singing in the trees, and the soft, sweet-smelling grass made a perfect backdrop. I melted in his arms, luxuriating in his sweet strength.
“I take it back. I’m not taking you to Haven. I’m never letting you go,” he whispered. “I can’t.”
“Good because you’re mine.” I nipped a serpent. “Get used to it.”
“Really?” His eyes were blazing. “Truly?”
“Would I lie?”
“Yes!” But he was laughing. “Ylva!”
Maybe I should’ve worried about the Beasts below us, but I was quietly enjoying myself, floating in silky ecstasy. It was glorious, just being happy.
I could’ve stayed there all day. His hands were on my back, gentling me, but then he was sitting up, his body tensing. “Wynne, get dressed. Quick.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see what he was seeing, and my heart was in my throat. A ship was heading for the village. The Citizens had come.
Chapter Fourteen
I thought we’d moved fast going up the hill, but Rune ran back at top speed, faster than horses confronted by bears. We got to the beach just as the ship anchored in the bay.
The Beasts were piling onto the sand, knives at the ready. A couple stayed behind corralling the girls, or maybe keeping them safe, it was hard to tell.
A little boat was lowered, and a landing party began making their way to us.
“We should break out the muskets,” Siv was talking urgently to Rune. “You can shoot them as they cross the water.”
“No point.”
“But look—!”
“I am. There are no mercenaries on board.”
Nobody had noticed me, but I was looking closely, too, and I recognised two familiar figures: the Brighthelme Guild Steward and the Patriarch. The Steward had a musket, but the Patriarch was unarmed.
The Steward was himself: skinny and slick looking, a typical oily merchant, weaselling an extra coin out of every deal. I’d not liked him when we’d met, and now I liked him even less.
It was odd, but back in the Vale the Patriarch had been imposing, with a striking beard and flowing hair. Now, compared to the ripped, clean-shaven Beasts, he looked potbellied and in need of a haircut. His beard looked pretty grubby, too. I wasn’t impressed.
Rune was totally calm. “It’s not an attack,” he said loudly. “Everyone stand down. This is a negotiation.”
The boat beached with a small splash, the Steward stepping briskly ashore, holding out a box. “Honey,” he said to Rune. “A peace offering.”
“A jar of honey for a ship?” Rune was ice. “Generous!”
The Steward bowed humbly and spoke
quickly. “We bring compensation. Medicines, glassware, cloth and food. Flour and smoked meat, too.”
The little boat crossed and re-crossed, each time loaded with gifts. When the beach was rich with goods, the Steward looked serious. “May we sit?”
It was a formal thing, because neither man sat on the wet sand, but Rune put down his knife, and the Steward put down his musket. Then they stepped away, clearly a sign that this was business, not war.
“I have come to trade,” the Steward said quietly.
At that, the Beasts’ attention sharpened; they were still angry but listening intently. They thought the Steward had come for the girls, but I knew he hadn’t. I could tell by the way he ignored them. They stood in a nervous knot, just a few paces away, but he didn’t even care for a quick headcount.
“First, I want to apologise.” The Steward was at his smooth-talking best. “Negotiations got out of hand.” He sighed dramatically, “I’m sorry.”
He talked for a while, apologising fulsomely and Rune saying nothing. We were all waiting.
“The armourers’ workshop burned down, but witnesses say they saw you load carts first.”
The Steward waited hopefully but Rune sat unmoving.
“You took compensation,” we were finally coming to the point. “We’d like to buy back the muskets.”
I thought of the cache, hidden quietly in the carts. Without muskets there was no meat, and without that, the Beasts couldn’t feed the girls, which meant the end of the colony.
“We have no muskets to trade.”
The Steward leaned forward, totally intent. “None? You sold them all at King’s Cross?”
So they had gone there but not for us. Rune had sized up the Citizens and gotten them right in every detail.
“You see, we had a contract with Llanfaes,” the Steward explained. “Six dozen muskets. It was the biggest order ever negotiated. It took all our smiths a year to make them. They paid in advance, too, so we need to recover them.”
Right, because Llanfaes being filled with mercenaries, pissing them off was a bad thing. I could see why the Steward was edgy.
Rune shrugged. “Want to trade steel?”
The Patriarch stepped up, swelling with rage. “It is forbidden for non-Citizens to have muskets! We can send mercenaries to recover them!”
This is why the Beasts had hidden their stash at King’s Cross. They must have been worried the Citizens would come, or their buyers. And seeing the Beasts numbered just a few dozen, a troop of Llanfaes mercenaries could wipe them out, even if armed with just spears.
Typical Rune! He’d planned for this day. He could deny keeping them, and in the winter months, the Beasts could learn to use the weapons. They were such a tough bunch that by spring, they’d be a match for any mercenary troop.
The Steward hesitated. The greasy bugger was a superb liar, and now he was scenting one.
I saw Siv and Brant staring at me, horror in their eyes. They knew I shared their secret. They knew that if I talked, the ship would take off and return with Llanfaes mercenaries before they could learn to use their weapons. Even if the Beasts sank the ship and killed every man on board, the Citizens back in Brighthelme would know why, and they’d send mercenaries anyway.
I had the fate of the Beasts in the palm of my hand.
“These savages don’t know the value of muskets,” I snapped at the Patriarch. “They swapped the fire sticks they stole for onions at King’s Cross. The rest must have burned up in the fire.”
You know he didn’t recognise me? “Quiet, woman! Know your place!”
At that, Rune’s eyes flashed. I put my hand on his arm and clutched it warningly. It was like squeezing rock but he got the message. He always does.
The Steward had seen the flash, too. He took the Patriarch by the arm and pulled him aside. “Let me negotiate,” he said urgently.
“But the muskets! Half was our investment!”
So that’s why he had come along. To keep an eye on his money. I bet Ullr had embraced muskets as holy weapons.
The Negotiator was talking fast. “Look, we’ll buy steel and make more.”
“And make a loss!”
“That’s life. You win some, and you lose some.” The Steward was sensible. He turned to Rune. “Let’s talk steel.”
“All right. What is your offer?”
As the Steward squared his shoulders, readying for verbal battle, Mina broke past the Beasts on guard. Tawny and Lizbeth were right behind her.
“Steward!” Mina was shaking with relief. “There are thirty eight of us,” she said urgently. She glanced at the ship. “We can leave straight away!”
Her false faith was painful to witness. The Steward was lost for words for once. The Patriarch, though, was straight to the point. “Away with you, woman!”
Rune sighed, while Siv and Brant looked and then shrugged. They’d let this play out.
Mina just stared at the Patriarch, mouth open. “What?”
“Get back to your business!”
Tawny and Lizbeth understood, I saw it in their eyes. But Mina couldn’t take it in. “Where’s the wergelt?”
“They’ve got money but they came to trade steel,” I told Mina. “They don’t want us.”
She looked at the Steward, who was staring at the sea, at the Beasts who actually looked sorry for her, and at me. It hurt me to see the truth dawn in her eyes.
“But our families,” Lizbeth asked fearfully. “Not one of them could pay?”
The Steward shrugged. “The Guild quarter was razed, and all the warehouses. Trade’s been bad because of the wars, too. We’ve no resources.”
“Not one family could pay? None?” Tawny was incredulous.
“The Guilds voted. They decided it’s impossible.”
“But you have silver to buy steel?”
“It’s Ullr’s will!” The Patriarch, of course. “Accept your fate!”
Tawny turned and ran, followed by Lizbeth, but Mina was frozen. I put a hand on her wrist. “Mina, there’s flour in some of these sacks. Can you please take charge and make sure it’s stored properly?” I spoke briskly, willing her to have a backbone and not break down. I didn’t want to give the Patriarch the pleasure. “And get the Beasts to make us an oven. Two or three, if you can?”
She stared at me, then turned on her heel and went, following the others.
I was curious about something. “Steward, do you remember me?” He looked perplexed. “I came to deliver honey. About two months ago? You were supposed to sign for it and take it to Llanfaes, but you were late.”
“Oh?” The man was a blank. “I was?”
“I slept in your kitchen, waiting for you.”
He frowned. “Oh yes, I was held up by some urgent business.”
You know, during those long days in the cart I’d actually wondered if the Steward and my family had been in cahoots? But it clearly wasn’t the case.
“I sent a message, asking you to confirm my story to the Patriarch for a legal case. You didn’t reply.”
“I was busy.” His reply was total disinterest.
“They accused me of whoring. I was denied Citizenship, and my land, and I got ten lashes.”
The Steward blinked. “Oh. Well, that’s not my fault.”
I saw Rune’s full-beamed look of searing fury, Siv’s amazement, Brant’s horror and then several Beasts standing close by leaned in, actually gaping at the Steward with their mouths open.
“You refused to witness?” Brant asked appalled.
The Steward shrugged. “I’m a busy man.”
“You knew the accusation was false? And you kept silent?” Siv couldn’t take it in. “Were you feuding?”
The Steward blinked. “Feuding? With her? She’s nobody! I was just busy. I can’t waste my time with small matters.”
“Small matters?” Siv was actually raging, and several Beasts were fingering their knives. Only Rune was keeping his temper, but his eyes were blue fire. Only superb self-cont
rol was keeping him silent.
“Leave it,” I said to the fulminating Beasts. I looked at the Patriarch. “You heard the Steward. I was wrongfully accused.”
The Patriarch shrugged. “You’re still a whore.”
Rune was flashing past me, grabbing the Patriarch, and pounding his face in the most wonderful way. I stood and watched, thoroughly entertained. The Steward was trying to pull Rune off, completely ineffective of course, and I saw that Siv, Brant and the other Beasts were watching with glee, too.
I did have to stop it, though, because I didn’t want the Patriarch dying. So after indulging in his squeals of fear and pain for a few blissful minutes, I tapped Rune on the shoulder. He was holding the Patriarch by the neck and punching him in the gut at that point, but at my touch, he paused and looked at me, his eyes stormy.
“Rune, we need to complete the deal,” I said sweetly. “Toss the silly fat-gut in the ocean and see what they have to offer.”
At that, he smiled. “Okay.”
The Patriarch was unconscious, battered and bleeding. Rune just let go, and the man splashed into the water. The Steward dragged him out, but his hands were shaking and he was sweating with fear. I realised he was unused to violence. The Steward was a negotiator, not a fighter.
Rune was both, so he made mincemeat of him. “First, you leave us the small boat, a gift for the trouble you’ve given us.”
“All right.”
“Also, we want all your stores, and the spare sail.”
The Steward looked at the Patriarch, who was now moaning. “Agreed.”
“About the steel—”
By the time a Beast ferried them back to their ship, the Patriarch still groaning deliciously, we were left with more preserved meat, wine, beer, and a small velvet bag clinking with silver, plus the promise of more in the spring.
“We’ve enough for winter and planting,” Siv sighed.
“They’ll replace their weapons,” Brant worried. “And they found us easily enough.”
“Who cares?” Siv was exultant. “By the time they come back, we’ll know how to use the muskets, and we’ll take them—easily!”
“You’re right,” Brant grinned. “And we can use the little boat to fish, and we’ve a sail for our next ship!”