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Viking Warrior

Page 17

by Connie Mason


  Though Wulf wished it otherwise, Reyna had not returned to the stillroom. He saw her only at meals, beneath the glare of her wary family. When Dag, Borg and Harald left the hall to go hunting one morning, Wulf asked to accompany them.

  “I would not trust the Norseman with weapons,” Maida advised. “He will kill you all when your backs are turned.”

  Wulf merely sighed and busied himself elsewhere, even though he was an excellent hunter.

  Reyna railed at her mother after Wulf left the hall. “Why do you hate Wulf, Mother? He is a skilled hunter and could help our men provide food for the table. Not long ago, he killed a wild boar that charged me while I was gathering herbs.”

  “I know you are taken with the Norseman, daughter, but I beg you not to mistake attraction for more than it is. Admittedly Wulf is an attractive man, but he took advantage of you and enthralled you. I pray you will come to your senses and wed Ragnar as planned. Ragnar is a good man. He will take care of you.”

  “Ragnar is weak. He thought me dead and courted another.”

  “You promised your brothers you would wed Ragnar.”

  “So I did, but Ragnar wants me no more than I want him.”

  Maida led Reyna to a bench and urged her to sit. “Tell me, daughter, do you have strong feelings for the Norseman?”

  Glancing down at her folded hands, Reyna hesitated before saying, “I do have feelings for Wulf, but I do not know how strong they are. I know I will miss him when he leaves, and that few men can match him in strength and courage. I saved his life and would do it again.”

  “He will use you and leave you; he has no conscience. You may have forgotten that he carried you off and sold you, but I have not.”

  “Mother, I…”

  Before Reyna could finish her sentence, Haley flew in through the front door, out of breath and panting. “Mistress, I saw a strange warrior lurking behind a haystack in the field and I fear there are more of them hiding in the woods to the south.”

  Reyna jumped to her feet. “Hakkon! ’tis just like him to raid our farmstead while our men are away.”

  “Run and fetch the men, Haley,” Maida cried.

  “No, ’tis too dangerous. She might be caught and dragged off. We must make a stand here. Perhaps we can hold them off until Father and my brothers return. I will find Wulf. Thank Freya he remained behind.”

  Wulf found her before Reyna located him. He burst through the door, his expression frantic as his gaze swept the hall. “Are all the women inside?”

  “We are all here,” Reyna replied, taking note of the thralls huddled together in a far corner. “Haley alerted us to danger. We believe it is Hakkon.”

  “I noticed warriors observing the hall but did not know who they were. I counted a dozen or more men. Where are the weapons?”

  “You cannot hold them off by yourself,” Reyna cried.

  Wulf sent her an impatient look. “The weapons, Reyna, I must arm myself if I am to protect you. I will need a shield, spear, battle-axe and sword.”

  Reyna moved with alacrity. “I will help you. I can wield a weapon as well as my brothers.”

  “We will all arm ourselves,” Maida exclaimed. “I can fight as well as any man.”

  Reyna ran to a cupboard and threw open the door. Inside were a variety of weapons. Wulf chose his weapons first, then Reyna and her mother.

  “We should remain inside until we learn what they are about. Mayhap they are after your livestock,” Wulf said.

  “ ’tis more than that,” Maida spat. “Hakkon covets our land. He will not be satisfied with livestock. He must have been watching our farmstead, waiting for the time when our men left for the day. He believes we will be easily conquered without our men to defend us.” She sneered. “Hakkon does not know whom he is dealing with.”

  “If he and his warriors try to breach the hall, we will surprise them. Stay behind me; let me take out as many as I can before you join the battle.”

  Maida stared at him. “Why would you defend our farmstead when we are holding you for ransom? How do I know you will not betray us?”

  Wulf shot a glance at Reyna. “Reyna saved my life when she could have just as easily let me die. I can do no less for her. If it is within my power, no harm will come to you or your thralls.”

  Wulf crept to the narrow window and peered out. He spotted men stealthily creeping closer to the hall. He crossed the hall and looked out the window on the opposite side of the long house.

  “They are closing in from both sides,” Wulf said. “It appears you are right, Lady Maida; they intend to break inside and loot. I count between ten and twelve men, all moving toward the front entrance.”

  “They do not only want loot,” Maida bit out. “I believe they intend to take us as prisoners and launch a surprise attack on our men when they return. Once our men are dead, they will claim our lands and all our belongings and enslave us and our thralls.”

  Haley and the other female thrall started wailing.

  “I will not let that happen,” Wulf promised with more assurance then he felt.

  As if to disprove his words, the first thud upon the door sent shock waves through the hall.

  “They are trying to break down the door with a battering ram,” Reyna cried.

  The door shuddered again but held. “Stay here,” Wulf ordered. “They do not expect to be met at the door by an armed Norseman. I will make them rue the day they tried to take a defenseless farmstead.”

  Suddenly Wulf realized this raid by Hakkon was similar to the surprise raid he had made upon this very same farmstead two summers ago. Borg and Dag had been on a trading voyage, leaving their home virtually defenseless against his onslaught. His defense of their farmstead now would repay them for all he had taken from them.

  Wulf strode to the door, shield held high, sword at the ready. Reyna feared for his life. There was no way he could fight off twelve heavily armed men bent on death and destruction. When it appeared as if the door was about to give, both Reyna and her mother took their places behind Wulf, ready to battle the enemy alongside him.

  “I told you to stand back,” Wulf hissed.

  Reyna snorted. “ ’tis our right to defend our home.”

  The time for arguing passed as the door burst beneath the weight of the battering ram. Wulf quickly skewered the first warrior who came through the door then prepared himself for the horde of men stepping over their comrade’s body.

  The battle was fully engaged as Wulf pushed the men backward through the door and into the open, a sword in one hand and battle-axe in the other. Soon he was fighting outside in the cold air, deflecting blows from warriors bent on killing him. No sooner had he dispatched one Dane than two others took his place.

  Wulf didn’t allow himself to consider defeat, for it meant the women would be at the mercy of the raiders. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Wulf cut down a man who had rushed at him with a raised battle-axe, and when he turned, he confronted a hulking warrior he strongly suspected was Hakkon himself.

  “Who are you?” Hakkon roared, swinging his battle-axe at Wulf.

  Wulf used his shield to take the brunt of the blow. “I am a Norseman, your worst enemy.”

  “I will kill you, Norseman. Name yourself before you die.”

  “Wulf the Ruthless, brother to Jarl Hagar the Red.”

  Hakkon seemed to falter before he renewed his attack. “I know your name, Norseman. My warriors and I raided your farmstead two summers ago. Prepare to die!”

  Rage consumed Wulf. “You killed my wife! Die, Dane bastard!”

  Determination gave Wulf superhuman strength. He dropped to one knee, and when Hakkon lunged at him he thrust his sword upward, finding a target in Hakkon’s belly. When he freed his sword, Hakkon’s blood flowed freely. Hakkon stopped in his tracks, looked down at the wound and began a slow spiral to the ground, not yet dead but severely wounded.

  From the corner of his eye Wulf saw a Dane approaching on his left. He could do
nothing about it at the moment, for another warrior had taken Hakkon’s place, hacking away at Wulf with the strength and determination of three men. Though Wulf’s blood was seeping from several minor wounds, he handily dispatched the warrior. Then he spun around to his left to confront the warrior that had been charging at him. He was shocked to see the Dane lying on the ground with Reyna standing over him.

  Then, horrors of all horrors, he saw another of Hakkon’s warriors run up behind Reyna and slice a deep groove down her left arm. The wound would have been much worse if Maida hadn’t called out a warning so that Reyna moved aside at the last minute. With a mighty roar, Wulf threw his battle-axe at the warrior, burying it in his forehead. The Dane fell dead at Reyna’s feet.

  Unfortunately, not even the combined efforts of Wulf, Reyna and Maida could prevail against the sheer number of raiders closing in on them for the kill. Wulf stood in front of the women, determined to fight to the death.

  Just when everything looked hopeless, a war cry pierced the din around them. Wulf spared a glance over his shoulder, issuing his own battle cry when he saw Borg, Dag and Harald running toward him, fully armed, their clothes bloody from the hunt.

  The men had returned!

  The raiders saw Harald and his sons at the same time Wulf did and immediately started backing away. Then they were in full rout, carrying their dead and wounded with them as they headed south toward their own lands. Harald and his sons gave chase but stopped at the edge of the forest. By the time they returned, Wulf had gathered Reyna in his arms and carried her into the hall with Maida close on his heels.

  “Take her to her sleeping alcove,” Maida said, “while I gather what I need to treat her wound.”

  “Don’t fuss,” Reyna said. “ ’tis a shallow wound.”

  “Which sleeping alcove is yours?” Wulf asked, ignoring her protests.

  “The first one on the right. You can put me down now.”

  “Not a chance.” He shoved the curtain aside and entered the sleeping chamber. Two long steps brought him to the bed, where he placed Reyna on the soft furs.

  “My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when I saw that warrior wound you. I told you and your mother to stay back, not throw yourselves into the heat of battle.”

  With great care he lifted her arm and tore away the sleeve, wincing when he saw blood spilling out of the wound. Grabbing a drying cloth from a narrow night-stand, he pressed it against the wound to stanch the blood.

  Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his head and brushed her lips against hers. He would have leaned in for more if Maida hadn’t pushed through the curtains and brushed Wulf aside. Reluctantly he relinquished his place beside Reyna to her mother.

  Chapter Twelve

  Wulf retreated to the back of the alcove as the female thralls entered behind Maida. Haley carried a basin of hot water and Alice bore the medicinal chest. The thralls set their burdens down on the nightstand and left. The alcove was too small to hold more than two people and Wulf wasn’t budging. He had seen Reyna’s wound. It stretched from shoulder to elbow in a long narrow gash.

  Maida set to work immediately, first thoroughly washing the wound and then inspecting it closely.

  “Is it serious?” Wulf asked. “She looks so pale.”

  Maida glanced up at him, as if surprised to see him still there. “No, ’tis a shallow cut, but she has lost a great deal of blood. As long as you are still here, you can hold her down while I stitch the wound.”

  Wulf moved with alacrity, placing his hands on Reyna’s shoulders.

  “There’s no need,” Reyna said weakly. “I will not move.”

  “This is going to be painful, daughter. Let the Norseman lend you his strength.”

  Wulf watched Maida thread a slim needle, his expression grim. The thought of the sharp instrument piercing Reyna’s tender skin made sweat pop out on his forehead. Though Reyna sucked in a breath and slowly released it, she did not move.

  Maida sprinkled dill seeds into the wound, then took the first stitch, pushing the needle in and out of Reyna’s tender flesh. Though no sound passed Reyna’s lips, pain was clearly visible in her wide green eyes. As Maida’s needle pierced her skin a second time, Reyna shuddered and went still.

  “She’s passed out,” Wulf said.

  Maida spared Reyna a quick glance. “ ’tis for the best. Your help is no longer needed, you can go now.”

  “I will stay. Will there be a fever?”

  “Most likely, though I will brew a concoction to prevent it.”

  Wulf watched stoically as Maida took small, neat stitches in Reyna’s arm. When she was done, she applied a salve and wrapped the wound in a clean cloth.

  “Send Haley and Alice to me, Wulf. We need to get Reyna’s clothes off and put her into a sleeping shift.”

  Had Wulf heard right? Maida had addressed him by his name, the first of the family to do so besides Reyna. Smiling, he left the alcove to pass on Maida’s orders to the thralls. Once that was done, Harald approached and asked Wulf how his daughter fared and if her wound was serious.

  “Lady Maida is the healer—she can tell you better than I. But I believe the wound is not life threatening and that Reyna will recover.”

  Harald slapped Wulf on the back. “My daughter is strong; she will survive. Join us in a victory toast.”

  Wulf joined the three men at the table. Borg poured him a horn of ale and all three men raised their horns to Wulf. “We owe our thanks and mayhap our lives to Wulf the Ruthless,” Borg toasted. Then they drank to Wulf’s courage, strength and honor.

  “My sons and I have decided to change your name,” Harald said.

  “What have you decided to call me?” Wulf asked warily.

  “Henceforth you shall be known as Wulf the Defender,” Borg said. “ ’tis a fitting name for the man who saved our home this day. Did you really kill Hakkon?”

  “I have never seen Hakkon, so I cannot be sure he was the man I slew. Reyna and Lady Maida saw me skewer him—mayhap they can verify his identity.”

  “Saw what?” Maida asked as she joined them.

  “How is Reyna?” Harald asked in a voice tense with anxiety.

  “Our daughter will recover with no lasting ill effect save a scar,” Maida assured him. “She may develop a fever, but I will do what I can to prevent that from happening.” She glanced at Wulf. “What were you talking about?”

  “We were discussing changing Wulf’s name. We think Wulf the Defender more fitting than Wulf the Ruthless.”

  A tentative smile curved Maida’s lips. “ ’tis a good name for the man who killed Hakkon the Terrible.”

  “So ’tis true, then,” Harald said.

  “Aye, I saw the man fall. His son, Elgar, carried him off, but no man can survive a wound such as Wulf delivered to our enemy. Hakkon is dead.”

  “We have been trying to kill that devil for years,” Dag crowed. He clapped Wulf on the back. “Forgive my initial hostility toward you. ’tis difficult to forget or forgive the havoc you inflicted on our farmstead and family.”

  “Just as it was impossible for me to forget or forgive what a Dane raiding party did to me and mine. ’twas Hakkon, you know. He admitted raiding my farmstead before I thrust my blade into his gut.”

  “He knew you?” Borg exclaimed.

  “He wanted to know whom he was about to kill and I gave him my name. He laughed and said he had led a raid on my farmstead. Rage lent my sword arm strength. ’twas my destiny to kill Hakkon the Terrible.”

  Harald held up his arm for silence. “You have earned your freedom this day, Wulf the Defender. We will not accept your brother’s danegeld.”

  “Father, we need the danegeld for Reyna’s dowry,” Dag objected. “Ragnar will expect it.”

  A nerve in Wulf’s jaw twitched. “She will not have him.”

  “Wulf, I do not want to argue with you,” Dag began, “but Ragnar is Reyna’s last chance for a husband. No one else will have her after you…after…” He fl
ushed and looked away.

  “She will not have him,” Wulf repeated.

  “Why not let Reyna decide her own future,” Maida said, joining in the discussion.

  “What makes you think Ragnar will marry her, Dag?” Wulf asked. “Have you been in contact with him?”

  “Aye, we visited him today, while we were out hunting. His farmstead lies but a short distance to the west.”

  Wulf had no answer for that. No matter what Dag believed, Reyna would never wed Ragnar. The man had no backbone. “I am going to the steam hut; does anyone want to join me?”

  “Father, Dag and I must return to the forest for the game we bagged today. We dropped everything when we saw that the farmstead was under attack.” Borg said.

  “I will help you,” Wulf offered.

  “No, we can manage. You must be sore after the fierce battle you fought today. Go soak your muscles, Wulf the Defender.”

  Wulf the Defender. Wulf liked that. He also liked being a free man. If not for Reyna, he would confiscate a small boat and risk the winter sea to return home. But he couldn’t leave Reyna until he was sure she would recover. By that time, it would be too late to cross the sea in a small boat, though it might be possible in a dragonship.

  Wulf left the men to their ale. He strode toward the door, where Haley was waiting for him. “You will need this,” she said, thrusting a drying cloth into his hands.

  Wulf grunted his thanks and left the hall. A blast of cold air met him as he walked across the yard to the steam hut. He was sore and stiff from wielding his sword and battle-axe and eagerly looked forward to hot steam easing his cramped muscles.

  Reyna awoke slowly to weak sunshine peeking through her small window. What was she doing in bed so late in the day? She tried to sit up and fell back when a sharp pain wrung a cry from her. Then she remembered: the battle, Wulf fighting for their lives and her own entrance into the fray, and then being wounded. She recalled Wulf carrying her to her sleeping alcove and little more after that.

 

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