Taming His Viking Woman

by Michelle Styles

  Hrolf closed his eyes. She was right. He might risk his men, but Inga? His uncle would not have hesitated, but Hrolf knew he couldn’t do it. ‘I suspect Lavrans will try to take the headland. And I think someone will betray the secret to him.’

  He willed her to understand what he was saying and why they had to go ahead.

  The breeze whipped her hair from her face, revealing her high cheekbones.

  ‘The only way he could would be if Regin or Auda betrayed me and they won’t,’ she whispered.

  ‘What is your price now?’ he asked quietly and waited.

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘My price is steering your ship.’

  Trust her with his ship? A day ago he’d have refused out of hand, but he’d seen Sayrid’s intelligence and he knew her reputation for being a skilled oarsman. If anyone was capable of devising a secret way, it was her.

  He had to do something he had sworn that he’d never do—he had to trust her with his beloved ship. He had no choice. He moved over on the bench. ‘The Sea Bird would be honoured to have such a helmsman.’

  Her throat worked up and down. ‘Woman. Helmswoman.’

  He put her fingers on the oar. ‘The Sea Bird responds best to a light touch.’

  She clasped the oar with an assurance that had to be from steering a hundred other voyages. ‘I will show you that a woman can steer as well as a man.’

  ‘When that woman is you, it will come as no surprise.’ Hrolf put his hands behind his head, trying to give the impression of utter relaxation, but every sinew tensed until she brought the ship back to a steady course. His uncle had been wrong—women could have other skills than cooking, weaving and bed sport. But it was still his job to protect her.

  * * *

  The gabled hall rose up by the water. Its weathered roof gleamed grey in the afternoon sunlight. From where she sat, Sayrid could see its imperfections—the gables needed another coat of paint and the roof sagged badly at one end. But the birch and larch rose behind the house and the tuntreet spread its branches in front. Home.

  She risked a glance at Hrolf, who had sat silent and tense during their progress through the blockade. Her shoulder ached from keeping the boat on the right course, but she had done it.

  ‘The welcome party has gathered,’ she said carefully, gesturing to where a group of farmworkers stood.

  It was far too late for regrets, but she found it impossible to keep the faint hope down that he might actually fall in love with the hall and the surrounding farmland and give her time to prove her worth. She wanted… Sayrid forced her mind from it.

  He was a sea king and they were always overly proud. The thought rang false to her. Hrolf might be proud, but he had reason to be. His seamanship was second to none.

  ‘They appear hostile.’ Hrolf’s face darkened. ‘What is going on, Sayrid? Have your people forgotten the basic laws of hospitality?’

  ‘Watch and learn.’

  Sayrid raised her right arm and made the boat give a hard wriggle to the right, to the left and to the right again before continuing straight. To her relief, the large ship obeyed her touch on the oar and did not overbalance.

  ‘Is that strictly necessary?’ Hrolf’s face darkened.

  ‘Yes.’ Sayrid repeated the manoeuvre twice more, each time raising her right arm.

  A ragged cry of welcome floated out over the water. Her pair of elkhounds started barking joyfully. The two dogs jumped into the water and started to guide the boat towards a good beaching spot.

  ‘They know we are friendly before they can see my face.’

  ‘Impressive. Just like the blockade. You have your people well trained…as long as someone doesn’t betray you.’

  She glanced at him. To explain about Regin and Auda would mean explaining about the scars on her back and she wasn’t ready to see the revulsion on his face. She could still remember her stepmother’s malicious pleasure as she rubbed the last of the sand in and how she crowed that even if a man married Sayrid, he would be revolted by what he found when he saw her naked and would never stay with her.

  ‘And my dogs less so,’ she said instead, pointing towards the pair of elkhounds that she had raised from puppies.

  The elkhounds kept up a steady chorus of barks, waking Inga and Magda.

  ‘They are pleased their mistress is home.’

  Hrolf gave the order and the rowers did one more mighty heave before lifting the oars out of the water. Without stopping to think, Sayrid reacted as she always did and jumped into the water, getting ready to guide the boat to the best spot. She stopped just in time and contented herself with ducking her head under the water.

  ‘I’m glad to be home,’ she cried out to the sky and ducked her head a second time. As she did so, her borrowed tunic slid off her right shoulder.

  When she surfaced, Hrolf was beside her. He put his arms about her waist. His eyes reflected the sun-sparkled water. On impulse she leant forward. His mouth tasted of salt, sea air and something indefinably him.

  He lifted his mouth and gave her a searching look. There was a question in his eyes as his hand hovered by her neck. She tensed, waiting to see if he noticed her scarring.

  He pulled her tunic up and retied the lace. ‘Thank you.’

  She blinked rapidly. Had he spotted her scars and pulled back? Silently she cursed that the tunic had slipped off one shoulder. ‘Why?’

  ‘For being you,’ he murmured. ‘You learn your lessons well. We are being watched.’

  Sayrid bit her lip and held back the words explaining that the kiss had been impulsive. ‘Why else would I have kissed you?’

  ‘I can think of a few reasons.’ His breath fanned her ear. ‘I will tell you them later. Right now, we are on show.’

  A tiny fluttering started in her stomach. He couldn’t have seen her scars. She was fine. The trouble was that she wanted him to keep desiring her.

  He cleared his throat and raised her arm above her head. ‘Sayrid Avildottar is my bride. I won her.’

  Stunned silence greeted the pronouncement. One of the women allowed her cup of ale to spill on the ground. Even the elkhounds sat on the shore with their heads tilted to one side as if waiting for Sayrid’s confirmation.

  ‘We want to hear it from Sayrid!’ a voice shouted. ‘Why isn’t Regin or Auda with you?’

  She started forward. ‘Hrolf Eymundsson defeated me in a sword fight! Auda remains with Kettil and Regin and Blodvin have gone to see my stepmother. Who is going to greet their new lord?’

  Various women hurried forward with cups of ale, offering the men a sip before they had advanced more than three paces from the boat.

  ‘We should have wine, not ale,’ Hrolf thundered.

  Sayrid motioned to two of the women who hurried away.

  ‘You should have allowed me to break the news gently,’ she said in an undertone while they waited for the wine.

  A twinkle shone his eyes. ‘You were the one who kissed me in full view of the shore.’

  Sayrid moved the tunic so that it was tighter about her neck. Had he seen the scars? The question stuck in her throat.

  ‘An impulse,’ she choked out.

  ‘You should act on impulse more often.’

  ‘There is no great love for sea kings here,’ she said, pointedly changing the subject. ‘It is one of the reasons why I made the elaborate defences.’

  ‘Your system might not be orthodox, but it works. I doubt I could have found my way through. A magically protected harbour. I know Inga thinks so.’

  Sayrid felt the heat on her cheeks increase. ‘I wanted to take precautions. I had to go away from here to make a living, but I wanted to make sure that no one suffered for my absence. I’ve seen far too many holdings raided and seafarers returning to a pile of ash and all the sheep gone. And you can’t always trust ships who go in with their shields hanging.’

  ‘You did this? I thought your father…’

  ‘He would have done it if he’d considered it,’ she said far too quickly
and instantly regretted it. She disliked criticising her father. Speaking ill of the dead never did anyone any good. She took a horn of wine from one of the serving women and held it out to him. ‘He had other things on his mind. The might of his reputation kept most away in any case. May your reputation do the same. The people who work the land deserve to live in peace and not be harried by sea kings.’

  ‘I see.’ Hrolf drained it in a single gulp before mouthing the appropriate words accepting the hospitality. ‘And your father is responsible for all this?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Sayrid rubbed the back of her neck. A deep-within-the-bones tiredness swept over her now that she was home. She wanted to leave everything, find her bed and sleep. Her muscles ached from the fight. And she had no idea what tonight would bring. All she knew was that more than ever she wanted to protect the people who had served her so well.

  ‘The farm and hall have prospered. After his death. Your sister is young and your brother’s reputation inspires no confidence in his ability to successfully manage such an undertaking.’

  ‘I have to be away. More often than I’d like, but someone must take our goods to market and I’ve been cheated before.’ She watched the sunlight play on the waves, remembering how Bloodaxe and the others had laughed at her, offering her barely any gold for their timber and wool.

  ‘And your brother wasn’t capable? He is a grown warrior.’

  She opened her mouth to protest and then shut it again. The less said about Regin the better. ‘There were reasons.’

  He looked as if he wanted to say more. She rapidly shook her head.

  ‘There are people who will want to greet their new lord. It is well that I am here with you as they would never have believed this tale otherwise.’

  ‘Will you give me a private tour after we get the introductions done?’

  Her heart did a little flip. He must not have noticed the scarring. She was safe for a little while longer.

  ‘There is sure to be a mass of things which require my attention. I’d barely come home before I had to leave for the Assembly.’ She gestured to her clothes. ‘I’m damp and should change.’

  ‘But they can wait. Everything can wait until later. The sun is warm. Give them time to light the bath hut.’ He brought her hand to his lips. ‘Consider it an order if you must. But I want you as my tour guide and no false modesty about someone else having responsibility for this estate.’

  Sayrid straightened her shoulders and tried to ignore the tingling sensation that coursed through her. ‘You’d be better served by any number of people.’

  He laced his fingers through hers. ‘But I want you.’

  Sayrid froze. Hrolf in this sort of mood was far more dangerous than when she had fought him for her life.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘This is the barn where we keep the hay,’ Sayrid said, making her voice sound very matter-of-fact and practical rather than breathless and full of anticipation, which was how she kept feeling with Hrolf standing so close to her. As the tour progressed, his broad shoulders kept bumping her more and more frequently. With each touch, she found herself more reluctant to move away. ‘We can go see the hiding places for the women in case of attack, but they are a little way from the main hall.’

  ‘Another day. I assume they are a reasonable march.’

  ‘Not too far. I wanted the women to be able to hide quickly. They are well stocked.’

  ‘You have put a lot of thought into the defence of this place.’

  ‘Someone had to.’ She shrugged. ‘Once my father died, we could no longer depend on his reputation as a warrior to keep the sea kings away.’ She gave a strangled laugh. ‘Did you pay much attention to reputations?’

  ‘Some,’ he admitted. ‘Will you miss the voyages?’

  ‘I always liked coming home the best,’ she admitted, hugging her arms about her waist. Proof if she needed it that she wouldn’t be travelling again. ‘Seeing the gables rise up from the sea and knowing that everyone was safe. Some parts were exciting, but I did it for this place. Land gets into your blood. And you did promise that I could go with you to the East.’

  ‘There were conditions to that promise. Have you fulfilled them?’

  She crossed her arms and refused to allow her disappointment to show. He’d only given his word because he felt she wouldn’t succeed. ‘I’m trying.’

  ‘Very trying.’ His soft laugh rippled over her skin.

  When she turned suddenly, he was there. Tall and unyielding. Masculine. She watched his mouth. She wanted to taste it again.

  ‘Do you have much experience farming?’ she asked in desperation. ‘Do you know how to run an estate like this one? Or will more voyages be required to keep it functioning.’

  ‘When I was a boy, I lived on a farm, but my father lost it and I was forced to seek my fortune. I always dreamt of owning somewhere like this.’ He reached down, picked up a handful of grain and held it for a heartbeat before allowing it to trickle through his fingers. ‘I will make it work. There is much that can be done. Walking around here, it continually amazes me that no one challenged you.’

  ‘The reason is obvious to me.’ Sayrid gave a careful shrug. ‘My reputation as a warrior deterred many. A man wants to be a better warrior than his wife.’

  ‘I’ve no worries on that score.’ He took a step closer. ‘Or maybe the way you scowl at everyone so they will think you tough when you are really scared. When are you going to let the true Sayrid come out from behind that mask you wear? The woman who kissed me down at the harbour? When are you going to stop hiding behind your sword arm?’

  Sayrid bit her lip. There was no easy way to answer that. She was proud of her skill, but she wasn’t stupid. Her sword arm intimidated most men. Her stepmother had predicted it and she had been proved right. Except for Hrolf, whispered her heart. She quickly silenced it. Hrolf had married her for reasons which she still did not quite understand, but she was fairly certain had nothing to do with her as a person.

  ‘I can teach your daughter. It is a way for me to keep my hand in, but I won’t be fighting men.’

  ‘My daughter knows enough. I’ve not left her defenceless.’ He turned from her and picked up hay, which he gave to one of the horses. ‘My seafaring days are over for the moment. I plan to farm. I won’t have what happened to you happen to her.’

  ‘What did happen to me?’ Sayrid tapped her foot on the ground. ‘I chose my path. I fought for it.’

  ‘A shield maiden is not the life I would hope for her. No woman should have to endure it. Their menfolk should ensure it. A warrior’s life is hard.’

  Sayrid stared at the hay-strewn ground. The truth finally. It was as she feared. He disapproved of her and her lifestyle.

  All that closeness on the boat had merely been comradely. The bright shining hope she had had that she could continue to do the things she loved faded.

  ‘I don’t regret what I have done,’ she said around the lump in her throat. ‘I’m proud of it. I made sure my family survived and prospered. What is the harm in that?’

  He lifted a brow. ‘It is not something I’d wish for my daughter. Daughters should be kept safe.’

  ‘I understand.’ Sayrid turned away. She refused to show how much he’d hurt her. Underneath, he was like the others. He would never understand about her scars and would find them grotesque. Scars were expected on a warrior, but on a lady they repulsed, her stepmother had said with each swipe of the sand and seawater. The knowledge caused a great hollow to open in the pit of her stomach. ‘You wish to forget what I was.’

  In the dim light his eyes narrowed. ‘When you have time, you may fashion gowns which fit you. You have to think about who you are now, not who you were. The sooner you embrace your new life, the sooner you get busy living it. My uncle once gave me that piece of advice and he was right. You have to stop being scared, Sayrid. I married to have a wife, not another warrior at my back.’

  His voice had a certain finality about it.


  She swallowed hard and started again. He didn’t seem to understand how hopeless she was as a woman. She paused. If he cared anything for her, he would have understood that being a warrior was part of her.

  ‘I hope you have found everything in order,’ she said when she trusted her voice. ‘Nothing is hidden. You may have the keys and inspect everything at your leisure, but you will want to get your men settled. We pride ourselves on our hospitality. They will be well entertained.’

  ‘In good time.’ His fingers brushed her elbow and his breath tickled the back of her neck. Her body tingled from his nearness. ‘You seem to be in a hurry suddenly. Stay.’

  Despite everything, her heart began to race, much faster than when she navigated her way through the blockade. ‘You would not believe the list of things which requrie my attention. Because I had just returned from a voyage when the situation with Blodvin happened, there is even more to be done than usual. The land must be productive if another voyage is to be avoided.’

  She finished, breathlessly aware of her frantic babbling. Hopefully he’d take her word and she could find reasons why they needed to be apart. In time they could settle for being companions and comrades.

  She was the worst kind of idiot to think he wanted anything more. Her lands and the loyalty of her people were one thing. Her person was something else and she couldn’t bear to be humiliated in the way her stepmother had predicted she would be.

  ‘Those are excuses to run away.’ His low voice penetrated her misery and pinned her to the ground, mid-flight. ‘And you deliberately misunderstood me about my daughter. She enjoys womanly pursuits like sewing and weaving. I won’t have her being forced into other activities.’ He sighed. ‘In Rus when I tried to get her interested in a sword, she could barely lift it and she cried.’

  She spun around and nearly collided with him. She took a hurried step backwards, kicking over a bucket. She scrambled to right it, holding it in front of her like a shield. He stopped in midstoop, watching her every move.

  ‘I’m merely trying to be efficient and I know how a girl is supposed to be brought up,’ she said, knowing she must seem anything but. And she wasn’t trying to run away. It was simply if she stayed much longer, she’d do something stupid like kiss him again. And there were many reasons why she shouldn’t, starting with her pride. ‘There is nothing worse than prolonging an inspection when all the other person desires is a horn of sweet wine and a few songs from the skald. My father was very clear on that.’