Passion: His Savage Embrace

by Bobbi Smith

  “And the rest of your family?” Dynna was asking.

  “My mother died when I was but a babe,” he answered. “Was she the one who gifted you with your dark hair?”

  “She was Irish, a slave until my father freed her and married her. It was through her that I come by the ‘black’ in the Black Hawk.”

  “So it was not your heart but your hair that earned you the title,” Dynna jested sensuously.

  “You thought my heart black?”

  “The tales of your pillaging are known throughout the land. Many thought your soul and heart were of the blackest pitch. Many claim you are beyond redemption. You are the Black Hawk, fiercest of all the Viking raiders.”

  Brage pulled her into his arms. “Shall I raid your port, princess? Shall I pillage your most treasured possession?”

  “You have already laid waste to my resistance, Sir Viking. I can only surrender to the power you wield over me.” She slipped her arms about his neck and kissed him. “It must have been difficult for you, growing up without a mother to see to your needs.”

  Brage shrugged as she nestled upon his shoulder. “I did not notice. I had my father. Then later, my father married Tove, and they have a son, Kristoffer.”

  “So you have two half-brothers. Does Kristoffer sail with you, too?”

  “He just started. He is young and eager to earn his own glory.” Brage smiled as he thought of the enthusiasm Kristoffer had shown before going on this raid. He had been excited to be sailing with him and Ulf. Brage grimaced at what the youngster must have suffered, seeing the mighty Black Hawk defeated that day. He was glad that the inexperienced youth had been unhurt in the fighting. Memories of the battle turned his thoughts back to the betrayal and the suspicion that had come to mind.

  Lying as she was against Brage, Dynna felt the change in him as he tensed.

  “Is something troubling you?” she asked.

  “I was thinking that a traitor is in the midst of my men,” he admitted.

  “I remember that you spoke of such while you were feverish. Do you know who it is?”

  Brage did not answer right away. He went over in his mind all that had transpired. He tried to recall any conversations he and Ulf had had while at sea. He fought to remember any subtle remarks or actions that might have revealed Ulf as the betrayer. The memory of Ulf saying Ah, but for a few words spoken before the gods, I could be the one planning and leading this raid. Instead, I am relegated by our father to protecting your back . . .” came to him.

  Pain jolted through Brage as he heard the words being said not by one speaking in humor but by one who envied the other and wanted his position in life. Ulf . . . It could not be Ulf, and yet . . . who else?

  “I fear I do,” he ground out. “And I live for the day when I can exact my revenge on the niding!”

  “What is a ‘niding’?” She had never heard the term before.

  “It is a Viking term that means someone who is disloyal, someone who is a coward, and this one is both.” As he said it, though, he was sickened by the thought. Ulf, the man he had trusted for years, his brother and his friend . . . a traitor?

  “Why would someone betray you? Do not your men all share in your spoils?”

  “They do.”

  “Then why betray you?”

  “I wondered that myself. Why, indeed? I will have the answer before the man lies dead at my feet. My men were the finest of warriors, and now numbers of them are slain because of him!” He would have his revenge. Soon he would be home again, and he would discover the truth of his betrayal.

  “I am sorry you have suffered so. The one who has done this must truly hate you. Why else would someone cause such pain and misery to others?”

  “I do not know. All my life I have lived by my honor, and I thought those who followed me did too.”

  “Sir Edmund and Lord Alfrick knew about your attack for weeks ahead of time. That was why they had time to get help from the neighboring lands. Whoever revealed your plan to Lord Alfrick got word to him early on.”

  Brage thought back over the weeks before he sailed. Many of his men had been at their farms away from Anslak’s village. Ulf had been gone for a while, as had several others. Even young Kristoffer had been off, trading at Hedeby. There was no condemning proof to be found there.

  “I wish I could have watched when the news that I lived was delivered to my father. It would have been telling to see how each man reacted.”

  “Perhaps you will never learn who the real traitor was.”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps, but I think I know. Time will show me the truth. I will rush to no conclusion without proof.”

  Brage realized then as he confided in Dynna that he had never talked to another female this way. All women had always been distant to him. He loved them for the softness and physical relief their bodies offered him, but he had never cared deeply for one, never had an intimate conversation with one—until now—until Dynna. He had spoken to her as he would speak to his father. The realization came as a revelation to Brage, and he wondered at this abiding sense of trust she inspired in him. They had begun this adventure together at odds with each other—he not trusting her, she forcing him to her will, and now . . .

  The thought that the attraction between them might be more than just a physical coupling dictated by their mutual desperation intrigued him. It seemed as if he were looking at Dynna in a whole new light of a sudden. Not only was she courageous and intelligent, she was gentle and sensitive, too.

  Drawn to her, Brage could not resist the temptation as she lay against him. The soft roundness of her breasts against his chest and the sweet curve of her thigh where it rested against his was all the enticement he needed. He lifted her up to him and kissed her with a passion that surprised them both. She met him kiss for kiss, caress for caress, and he took pleasure in knowing that she desired him as much as he desired her.

  Dynna was thrilled that Brage wanted her again. She had felt the pain in his soul as he told her of the betrayal, and she had wanted to ease the torment somehow. Though her words had seemed to have helped a little, it was her body he sought now in his solace, and she offered herself up to him freely.

  They melded in exquisite pleasure and shared the true depth of their need. When they slept, they held each other close, sated and content.

  Anslak stood at the helm of his ship, staring out to the western horizon. Soon, they would reach the lands they sought. Soon, they would have Brage back. They had sailed with five ships, each carrying at least fifty warriors. They would be ready, should deceit reveal itself while they went to claim Brage.

  Anslak glanced to where Kristoffer rode at the fore of Brage’s craft. Kristoffer had been so intent upon celebrating news of his brother’s rescue that he had had to be carried onto the ship when they set out. Now, as they sailed closer to the coast, though, he was steady of hand and eye, directing his men well and ready to do whatever was necessary to ensure his brother’s safe return.

  Looking to where Ulf commanded a third longship, he saw his oldest son speaking to his men. Ulf was a fine leader and a fierce fighter. He had been Brage’s closest friend, and Anslak knew he had suffered when his brother had been thought dead.

  Tove had been excited by the news that Brage lived, too, and had promised them an endless feast upon their return.

  It would be good when Brage was back at the helm of his own ship where he belonged. Anslak only hoped his son had not suffered over much while in the hands of Lord Alfrick. Soon they would know. If he had, they would repay in kind.

  Hereld was immediately given audience with Lord Alfrick.

  “What word do you bring from the Viking Anslak?” Lord Alfrick demanded.

  “He set sail a day after I left him,” Hereld answered, quickly telling him where the Viking would meet with them.

  “A wise choice,” Lord Alfrick said thoughtfully. “There is little chance for betrayal there.”

  “He will be there at dawn, the day after tomorrow.
He expects to see that his son is alive and well before the gold will be paid.”

  “Fine.” Lord Alfrick spoke curtly.

  “I have done as you bid, my lord,” Hereld said, subtly letting him know that he expected his payment as promised.

  “Yes, you have,” Lord Alfrick replied, signaling to one of his men to come forth with the small coffer. “And you shall be rewarded. I will pay you half now and half when the ransom has been paid to me.”

  Lord Alfrick took the coffer from the servant and handed it to Hereld.

  “A fair and honest man is what you are, my lord,” Hereld groveled appropriately as he felt the weight of the small chest. “I am honored to have carried your message to Anslak for you. I will sing your praises to all I meet. Not only are you a fierce and mighty warrior, but you are a man of your word.” He bowed before him.

  “You will find that you will be even more honored once all is done. You may go, but do not venture too far. I would have you with me on the morning that Anslak arrives.”

  “Yes, my lord. I will be there,” Hereld answered, thinking that all would go smoothly now as he clutched the coffer to him and left the room.

  Alfrick watched him go, almost amused by his ways. Hereld was completely driven by profit. At least, with one so blatant, one knew where one stood.

  He turned his thoughts back to the Black Hawk and the ransom. For not the first time, he cursed the situation he found himself in. In another day, the Vikings would be landing on his coast expecting to reclaim one of their own. Alfrick could only hope that Edmund would have returned with the captive by then. If he had not, Alfrick knew he was going to have to think of some way to encourage Anslak’s trust and prevent bloodshed. Hereld had said that the Viking leader was not a forgiving man. If he chose not to believe that the Black Hawk had escaped, there might be a terrible battle . . . one that he himself would lose. Alfrick knew he had to come up with some way to prevent a confrontation. He only hoped he could.

  Fifteen

  Hereld sat with Sir Roland and several of his friends in the Great Hall enjoying a cup of mead. He was feeling good about everything that had happened and was eagerly looking forward to the exchange being made so he could get the rest of the payment owed him.

  “Where are Sir Edmund and Sir Thomas?” he asked Sir Roland. He had not seen them since returning to the tower.

  Sir Roland shot him a surprised look. “You mean you do not know? Lord Alfrick did not tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” Hereld was suddenly worried, judging from the sound of the man’s voice.

  “About the Black Hawk? Did you not know he escaped?”

  “He what?” Hereld repeated, his eyes widening in shock. Lord Alfrick had said that he wanted him at his side when he met with Anslak in a day and a half, but Hereld knew that would be suicide if they did not have the captive to make the trade.

  “It would seem that Lady Dynna helped him escape and then went with him to avoid marrying Sir Edmund. It has been days that Sir Edmund has been out combing the countryside for the two of them. We have heard nothing so far. When are the Vikings due?”

  “They will be here the day after tomorrow. A meeting place has been set. They are ready and more than willing to pay the ransom to get the Black Hawk back.”

  “And what will they do if the Black Hawk is not there?” one of the other men asked.

  “It is hard to say,” Hereld lied, not wanting them to know how scared he was of just that prospect. “They might be pleased that he has escaped and saved them the ransom price.”

  “It would be good if that came to pass,” Sir Roland said.

  “It would be very good,” Hereld agreed, drinking down the rest of his mead in one long gulp.

  Hereld looked around at the men gathered there and wondered if they realized what a short time they had to live. Anslak would be furious if the Black Hawk was not there, and what came next would not be pretty.

  Suddenly faking weariness, he stood up. “It has been a pleasure to see you again, but it has been a long day’s journey and I must retire for the night. I will see you on the morrow.”

  They bid him an indifferent good night.

  Gathering up his coffer, Hereld made his way as nonchalantly as possible from the Great Hall. Outwardly, he maintained a casual air as he headed back to his ship. When he reached the boat, however, he started issuing orders and shouting at his men to get ready to set sail.

  His men looked at him as if he were crazed. They had thought they were there to stay for a while. One by one, they sought answers.

  “What is it, Hereld? Why have you returned from the tower so quickly?”

  “We must head south, now, tonight.”

  “But why?”

  Herald explained the grim situation. “The Black Hawk is no longer held here by Lord Alfrick. I do not want to be anywhere around when Anslak learns what has happened.”

  “Did you get all the reward Lord Alfrick owed you?”

  “Half, and I can be happy with the half as long as I am still alive to enjoy it. Let us sail now, before dawn. I want to be out of Lord Alfrick’s reach before he discovers that I have flown.”

  As they sailed away, Hereld counted his one hundred pounds of gold and the amount in his coffer from Lord Alfrick as worthy payment. He did not think he owed Lord Alfrick his life.

  Brage and Dynna rose at dawn and rode all day. They were hungry and the horse was tired but they kept on. What rests they took were short, and they did not linger overlong. Her parents’ tower was within reach, and they would ride all that night if they had to, for they were desperate to reach it before Edmund.

  It was just at sundown when they topped a low rise and Brage saw her father’s tower and extensive estates for the first time.

  “We are here . . .” Dynna cried tears streaming down her cheeks as she saw her family home.

  “True, but Edmund might be here as well,” Brage pointed out, not ready to let his guard down just yet.

  “I do not see any sign of him or his men.”

  “They could be within the hall already. We must still be careful. It would be foolish to rush in.”

  Dynna knew he was right. “We can wait until dark. There is a secret entrance in. I can go first and make certain it is safe for you to come inside.”

  He nodded in agreement with her plan. “Your father’s holdings are vast?”

  “They are, but not as vast as Lord Alfrick’s. That is why my father approved and encouraged my marriage to Warren. It was a wise diplomatic move, for the alliance strengthened us.”

  “How will your father feel about you returning home?”

  “He will understand. While he approved of Warren, he had made it known long ago that had Edmund been the one to approach him for my hand, he would have refused.”

  “A wise man, your father.”

  She agreed warmly, and added, “Now we will be safe.” Here she had known love and complete acceptance. Here she had spent the happiest days of her life. She was home.

  “You are certain that your parents will welcome me?”

  “They trust my judgment. You have helped me, Sir Viking. They will help you.”

  Brage hoped she was right. He realized then just how much his trust in people had been shaken by the traitor’s betrayal. He looked at everyone with a jaundiced eye now, looking for deceit and treachery. He wondered if he would ever trust again.

  “Come, I will show you where we can hide until it is dark enough for me to go in.”

  She directed Brage to a wooded area at the back of the tower. They remained there, out of view, until the night covered the land.

  “It may take me a while, but do not fear, I will come back to you,” Dynna promised.

  They gazed at each other in the darkness, and then Brage pulled her close. They shared one poignant kiss before parting, both sensing their relationship would change the moment she passed through the tower’s portal.

  “Be careful, Dynna,” Brage cautioned.
r />   “I will.” With that, she was gone, making her way unnoticed to the small, hidden gate.

  As Dynna had suspected, her family’s oldest retainer, Sir Eaton, was there standing guard.

  “Lady Dynna!” he said her name in surprise, shocked as she appeared out of the darkness before him. He stared at her in confusion. She was there for certain, but she was dressed as a boy.

  “Sir Eaton! It is so good to see you,” she greeted the older man with a warm smile.

  “It is good to see you, too, my lady. But what are you doing here? Coming in like this?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking, for it was so unusual for her to enter the tower this way. On her visits home, she always rode proudly through the front gate.

  “It is a long story and one I do not have time to relate right now. Tell me, Sir Eaton, has anyone come to the tower today?”

  “There were all manner of people here today, as usual,” he answered still confused.

  “The ones I am concerned about are my dead husband’s brother, Edmund and a group of his men. Did they arrive here today?”

  “Oh, no, my lady. Those I would know for certain. There has been no sign of the likes of them.”

  “Thank heaven,” Dynna said in relief. It was safe for her to go back for Brage.

  “Lady Dynna . . . where are you bound? You cannot leave so . . .”

  “I will be right back. Please inform my parents that I have returned and have brought a trusted companion with me. Tell them it is important I meet with them right away.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Sir Eaton stared after her for a moment, then rushed away from the gate to do as she had directed.

  Dynna hurried back to where Brage waited with the horse.

  “It is safe for us to enter. Edmund has not arrived yet.”

  “We have Sir Thomas to thank for this,” Brage said as they started toward the tower, leading the mount.