She clasped his hand. “Thank you, Dieter. I will go with the Danes. Tell Blythe I am sorry.”
Dieter put his hands on her shoulders. “Ragna, if you think I will allow you to go to Strand alone, you are mistaken. My men and I will accompany you, and it won’t take much persuasion for Captain Ivar to come with us. He has expressed great anger at what happened to Reider’s father, for whom he had great respect. I will speak with him.”
~~~
The knarr and the longboats set sail the next day. Ivar and his men had been eager to go. Ragna’s fellow survivors had balked. They wanted to return home. Strangely enough it was Captain Philion who had changed their minds. “We owe our lives to Reider Torfinnsen and Kjartan Eldarsen. We would be dead men if it were not for them.”
“But they enslaved us,” the young mercenary protested.
“You are free men again, thanks to Ragna FitzRam. Will you turn your back on her now?”
Ivar had suggested the naysayers remain at Husembro and wait to be picked up on the return journey, but in the end they had agreed to sail together.
They followed the Danes to Dagfinn’s territory. As luck would have it, they put into the jetty as Dagfinn was returning home. Ragna caught sight of Kjartan aboard one of the incoming longboats. Where was Reider? Dread pooled in the pit of her belly. She waved and called Kjartan’s name. He jerked up his head and raised his hand to shield his eyes. He seemed surprised to see her, and raised both arms to wave back.
When the boats were moored he ran along the dock and threw his arms around her. “Ragna! You’re safe! We were on our way to Husembro to see how you fared.”
Thor barked his pleasure at Kjartan’s arrival, wagging his tail.
Kjartan squeezed Ragna tightly. She could barely breathe. “It’s good you are pleased to see me, but—”
He released her and laughed, but a frown creased his brow. “Pleased! You have no idea. I’ve much to tell you.”
He knelt to pet Thor who rolled over on his back, tongue lolling, legs in the air. Kjartan rubbed his belly.
Dieter and Dagfinn had both hastened to the jetty where she and Kjartan stood and introductions were made and explanations shared. As the men shook hands and Dagfinn formally welcomed the visitors to his land, Ragna tapped her foot impatiently. “Where is Reider?”
Kjartan put his hands on her shoulders. “He is well. He has regained the principality for us, with Dagfinn’s help. Gorm is dead. Margit killed him”
This did not make sense. “But I thought—”
Kjartan looked away. “She is a devious woman.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is? She still lives?”
Kjartan hesitated, scratching his cheek. “Ja! And in one week, she and Reider are supposed to wed.”
Dieter came to Ragna’s aid as her knees buckled. He grasped her elbow and put an arm around her shoulders. “I have you, sister. Don’t assume the worst.”
Anger boiled in her heart, the heart she had been ready to give to Reider. Now he was promised to the treacherous woman who had betrayed him. “Obviously, Dieter, Prince Reider does not need our help. It was a mistake to come here. On the morrow we’ll sail for Hamburg.”
Kjartan held up both hands. “Wait! You do not understand, Ragna. He consented to marry her because he believed she held you captive.”
Ragna frowned. “Me?”
Kjartan took a deep breath and proffered his hand. “Where to begin the tale? Come, sit with me in the Hall and I will tell it to you.”
~~~
That Ragna was a cousin, albeit far removed, elated Kjartan. That she had decided to come to Reider’s aid instead of sailing safely to Hamburg filled him with happiness for his friend. But Margit’s lies held Reider in her web. He had feigned a willingness to wed the treacherous schemer if he thought it would save Ragna’s life. Ragna was a determined young woman, known for her stubbornness. It was important she understand Reider’s decision. Kjartan bade her sit, but she refused.
“Margit killed Gorm with your dagger.”
Ragna gasped. “I don’t understand. How did she get it? It was stolen from me by one of the men who attacked us at Husembro.”
Kjartan looked at Dieter for an explanation. “We repelled them easily. They were probably not expecting a large force. The burly giant who stole Ragna’s dagger swam out to reach the escaping longboat, after Thor bit his leg. We assumed he drowned.”
“Evidently not. It may have been Roar Knutsen. Reider wounded him in the battle, but he looked as though he had been in a recent fight, limping badly. He may not survive. Margit already had the dagger. She killed Gorm and threw herself on Reider’s mercy. Upon seeing his reaction to the dagger, she must have realized how much he cared for you. Roar may have been the one to reveal your existence. Margit used Reider’s concern to her advantage, leading us to believe she had you imprisoned and held sway over your life.”
Ragna chewed her nails, something he had never seen her do before. “Reider was concerned for me?”
Kjartan took her hand. “What Reider feels for you is more than concern.”
Ragna slumped into a chair. “But he is to wed Margit.”
“He will not wed her if he knows you are safe.”
She came to her feet. “Then we have no time to waste.”
Kjartan chuckled. “Ragna, you are the perfect mate for Reider. But there is more I need to tell you. Sit down. You will not believe the next part.”
Ragna pouted, and sat huffily. He beckoned to a young woman seated at a table near them. She came to her feet and approached them, holding a bundle, which she placed in front of Ragna. Ragna frowned and looked inquiringly at Kjartan. “Open it,” he said.
She squared her shoulders and opened the cloth wrapping, gasping at the object she beheld. “My dagger—wait—no, it isn’t mine! But it looks—” She glanced up sharply at Kjartan.
He put his hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Ragna, may I present my cousin, Dagfrid. This dagger is hers.”
Ragna’s frown showed her confusion. “But it is identical to mine. It’s as if the same person carved the hilt.”
He held out his hand. “Exactly, cousin.”
Dieter interrupted. “You mean to say the same person did carve them? That you and Dagfrid and Ragna share an ancestor?”
Kjartan did not expect to be emotional, but as he took hold of Ragna’s hands, he choked on the lump in his throat. “Ragna, I believe, four generations ago, we shared a grandfather.”
Ragna sat open-mouthed, running her fingers over the carving of the Viking. She looked from Dieter, nodding with an amused look on his face, to Dagfrid, beaming a big smile, to Kjartan. Then she too smiled broadly and leapt into Kjartan’s arms. “This is wonderful. We knew our roots on my mother’s side were Danish, but I never expected to meet any of my relatives. When I set sail, I did not intend to visit Denmark.”
Kjartan hugged her. “Fate sometimes has a way of making things happen that we do not plan.”
Dieter pumped Kjartan’s hand. “I suppose we are vaguely related too! I am married to Ragna’s sister, Blythe.”
Ragna turned to Dagfrid and embraced her. “Cousin,” she rasped.
Wiping away tears, she asked Kjartan, “But where is my dagger now?”
“Reider keeps it with him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
While he waited for the guards to bring Margit from her cell, Reider settled into his father’s throne and brooded, his hand resting on the hilt of Ragna’s dagger. He seethed with dread, longing to hold Ragna and be assured of her safety, frustrated by his feeling of powerlessness.
In the custody of two of his men, Margit burst into the Hall, dishevelled, dirty, and toweringly furious. The stink of the gaol clung to her. “This is no way to treat the woman you are to wed, Reider Torfinnsen.”
Reider tightened his grip on the dagger, itching to thrust it into Margit’s heart. Did she indeed hold Ragna captive, or was it a ploy to manipulate him? He dare not take a chance with Ragn
a’s life. If Roar Knutsen survived his wounds and the fever that ravaged him, Reider might extract the truth. Margit was unaware that Roar still lived.
Reider missed Kjartan’s counsel, but it had been imperative that his friend go to Husembro to determine what had happened there. He had to be wary with Margit, had to make her believe he would indeed marry her. His heart belonged to another, a woman who might never give herself over to a man, but he knew he would not live long if he wed Margit.
He forced a smile. “Are the guards not taking adequate care of you, Margit? Do you not have food, and warmth?”
She sneered at him, scratching her head as though it itched unbearably. “You will free me now, or the woman will die.”
The frenzied glint in her eye gave him pause. Margit’s thirst for power had pushed her into madness. He would need to be wary. “If you kill her, you and I will never wed. What assurances do I have that you will not murder her after you and I are married?”
She sidled up to the throne, and put her hands on his thighs, leaning forward to emphasize her cleavage. “I give you my word.”
Reider snorted and removed her hands. “The word of a woman who has betrayed every man who ever trusted her? I will not agree to the ceremony unless you guarantee her freedom.”
Margit put her hands on her hips and paced. “Hah! Then you will kill me and turn to her.”
Reider shook his head. He would not take the life of this pathetic creature, but neither would he allow her to harm another soul. “I give you my word not to have you executed. You know me as a man who honours his promises. Now, what is my guarantee?”
She glared at him.
Would she relent?
He returned her stare.
Margit thrust out her chin. “I cannot reveal where she is.”
He leapt to his feet and strode over to her, anger and frustration rising in his throat, his nose inches from hers. “Because you do not have her. You are lying.”
She spat in his face.
Disgust rose in his throat. He wiped his cheek and ordered the guards to take her away. She screamed obscenities as they dragged her out.
His innards in knots, Reider went to see if Roar still lived.
~~~
The giant’s fever had left him, but he lay rigid on his pallet. His eyes were closed, his pallor ashen. The thrall who tended him, one of his concubines, shook her head. Roar was dying.
“Has he spoken?”
She kept her eyes downcast. “A few words.”
“What did he say?”
“He is in pain, my lord prince. His words make no sense.”
Reider looked at the once-mighty warrior. Had this brute slain Ragna? Or imprisoned her? He had to know. He turned to the thrall. “Leave us!”
She bowed and obeyed at once.
He leaned close to Roar’s ear and whispered his name.
The giant’s eyes flickered open.
“You know who I am, Roar?”
The giant nodded. “My lord Reider,” he rasped.
“You are dying, Roar.”
Knutsen nodded and swallowed hard.
“Will you enter Valhalla, Roar, or will the guilt of your misdeeds consign you to Hel?”
Roar’s eyes opened wide. “My lord Reider, I regret my part in your father’s murder. It was a mistake to support Gorm. I beg your forgiveness.”
Reider grasped Roar’s cold hand. “I accept your confession.”
The tension eased out of Roar’s body. Reider watched him for a short while, then put his hand on the man’s festering shoulder and pressed gently. “You are not free yet, Roar. What have you done with the blonde woman from Husembro?”
Roar winced. “Blonde? Nothing! I swear. I took her dagger, but I did not kill her.”
“You left her there?”
The giant licked his lips, breathing hard. “I had to escape. Her vicious hound sank its teeth in my leg. I do not know what happened to her.”
Reider smirked. Thor, a vicious hound? The plucky dog had evidently saved Ragna. He eased the pressure on Roar’s shoulder. “And you gave her dagger to Margit?”
Roar snorted. “Not willingly.”
Reider gave the dying man ale to sip, holding it to his parched lips. “Is there anything else you wish to tell me?”
Roar clutched Reider’s hand. “You will be a good ruler, my prince.”
They were his last words.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Strand ahead!” Ivar shouted from the prow, Thor barking at his side. The Danes in the accompanying longboats yelled in jubilation and lifted their hands in salute. The noise caught the attention of men on the beach, who waved back.
Ragna gripped the side of the knarr with one hand. Dieter held the other. He kept silent, for which she was grateful. She had always been strong, but now she worried she would cry like a baby if Reider had indeed wed Margit. Perhaps it was fanciful to believe he cared for her, a wilful Englishwoman. A Danish prince would no doubt be expected to marry into another powerful Danish family.
The beauty of Reider’s homeland took her breath away. To one side the land was completely flat and green as far as the eye could see. Sheep dotted the landscape. To the other, the beach soon rose to become grass-tufted dunes. Beyond loomed soft blue hills, dotted with forests and farms. Her fur hood slipped to her shoulders and the wind whipped her hair over her face. She loosed her grip on the rough wood to smooth it back. Fingering the braided headband, she tossed her head and looked back to the beach.
Reider stood on the shore, legs braced. His hand was raised in a welcoming salute, his long hair flying free in the breeze, her headband around his forehead. He had come to greet her! Her breasts tingled and she stifled the urge to giggle like a child, feeling her face redden. What would Dieter think? Her brother-by-marriage squeezed her hand. She looked up at him. He was smiling. She returned the smile and raised her hand to wave to the man waiting for her.
As the knarr came into shore, Reider waded out into the shallows, arms outstretched. Her dagger was tucked into his belt. She laughed, climbed onto the side and leapt into his arms. “My Viking beckons again and I can do naught but jump into his welcoming embrace.”
He too laughed and staggered backwards when Thor leapt from the boat. Reider cradled her, carrying them to the shore. “Must I always be saving you and your hound from the sea?”
She reached up to finger the headband, then put her palm to the side of his face. “I seem compelled to leap into your arms, Reider.”
Once they reached the beach, Thor jumped from her lap, wagging his tail furiously. Reider set her back on her feet, put his hands on her waist and pressed her to his body. “You came to me,” he rasped, then kissed her with a hungry intensity.
She felt his hard male length against her belly and her heartbeat pulsed between her legs. Kjartan and Dieter had both disembarked from their vessels and they led the good natured cheering. Ragna had forgotten she and Reider were not alone.
~~~
Reider made a mock bow to his audience, and offered Ragna his arm. She introduced him to Dieter and told of his role in her rescue. Everyone walked in the direction of the Great Hall, but Reider pulled her aside and escorted her to his private lodge.
She had followed him to Strand! He had recognised Ivar’s boat as one that could have carried her to safety, but she had chosen to come to him. Kjartan was right. He would be a fool to let her go. He kissed her again, inhaling the spicy scent he had missed. Ragna aroused him like no woman before. His heart had skipped a beat when he realized she was aboard the incoming boat. The moment the wind had whipped her hair over her face, his pik had turned to granite. He coaxed her lips with his tongue. “Open for me, Ragna,” he whispered.
She parted her lips and he delved his tongue deep inside the warmth of her mouth. She tasted salty. Jealousy had surged in him at the sight of her holding another man’s hand on the boat. He cupped her bottom and ran his tongue over her teeth. The deep groan that emerged from her
throat betrayed her longing. She had ached for him as he had ached for her. Did his prinsessen love him?
Suddenly, she pulled away, pushing her hands against his chest, pouting. “You said you would come back for me, Reider, but I have been forced to search you out. You left me at the mercy of your step-brother’s men. Had it not been for Dieter and Ivar—”
Life with Ragna will never be dull!
He put his forefinger to her lips. “I know. In hindsight, I should have taken you to Dagfinn, but my desire for revenge and justice clouded my thoughts. I doubted everyone. Forgive me. When I was told of the battle at Husembro, my heart broke.”
She frowned. “Your heart? You have no room in your heart for me. You told me so.”
He put his hands over hers. “After Margit’s betrayal I thought never to trust a woman again. Anger consumed me. That was before I met you. You are direct and forthright, and you inflame me as no woman ever has. I would trust you with my life, and my heart.”
She blinked and inhaled sharply. “You would entrust your heart to me?”
He pressed her hand against his chest. “I already have. Can you not feel it beating for you? I want you to be my wife, Ragna, my prinsessen. It isn’t the life you’ve been used to, but—”
Now she put a silencing finger to his lips. “But what of Margit? Kjartan told me you were supposed to marry her.”
“I wanted her to believe that, because I didn’t know if she had captured you. I had to ensure your safety, but I would never have married her. It’s you I love.”
“You love me? How can you love me? I am stubborn, and wilful, everyone says so. You will think this amusing, but my family has always called me their Wild Viking Princess.”
He was convinced then that Fate had brought this incredible woman to his side. “It is obvious to me you were destined to be mine. You truly are a Viking, of Kjartan’s lineage, and you will rule with me as my prinsessen. It’s fitting I called you by that name from the moment I met you. Be my bride, Ragna. I want to live my life with you.”
Wild Viking Princess (The FitzRam Family Medieval Romance Series) Page 8