Fear rushed up to choke Wolf. Was it his wife’s blood? Had she come this way? He hoped not.
They followed the drops of blood until they finally vanished. Footprints led them in another direction. Time seemed to rush by, though it passed more slowly than felt. When Wolf found his wife, he intended to keep her by his side until this thing with Brynjar was done. He refused to give thought that she wouldn’t be found. She was too skilled of a warrior not to survive.
Wolf determined they would only continue so far, dusk growing near. They would have to return to the village and gather torches to continue the search.
He was about to call a return to the village when they came upon a cropping of rocks and at the foot of the largest rock laid a crumpled body, a cloak concealing much of the person.
Iver stopped and stared, his face pale as if afraid to proceed and find it was Raven.
Wolf had no such qualms, he hurried to the fallen body and dropped down beside it. He almost roared to the heavens, but kept control of his relief as he called out, “It’s not Raven.”
At first glance one would surmise that the man had slipped off the rock and died, but that was not what happened. On closer inspection, a knife was found protruding from his chest.
“Another of Brynjar’s men?” Fyn asked, coming up beside Wolf.
“I can only assume,” Wolf said and pulled the knife out of the man.
The man’s eyes burst open and he drew a quick breath.
“A woman. Did you see a woman?” Wolf demanded before life could drain completely out of the man.
He gagged as he struggled to speak. “He knows.”
Wolf roared out his rage so strongly it echoed through the woods and was returned by the woeful howl of wolves.
Fyn spoke after Wolf stood. “Dusk draws near. We need to get torches to continue the search.”
“He knows,” Wolf repeated the dead man’s words, a fiery anger in his dark eyes.
“Does he speak of Brynjar, and what would he know?” Fyn asked.
Lars shook his head. “He could refer to anyone.”
Iver pointed to the dead man. “It must be important that he used his last breath to tell us.”
One of Wolf’s warriors rushed out of the woods, his shouts interrupting any further discussion. “She’s been found. Lady Raven has been found.”
Wolf listened to his warrior explain as they made haste back to the village. His wife had been found making her way to the village, a gash to her head. She was presently at the longhouse, Greta tending her. He kept a quick pace, needing to feel his wife in his arms as fast as possible.
He stopped once inside the longhouse and stared at his wife sitting calmly at a table, Greta clearing the tabletop of the bloody cloths and bucket. Raven met his eyes and smiled and his heart nearly stopped, the relief that she was there safe overwhelming him. He hurried to her and yanked her off the bench into a fierce hug.
With her arms locked in the hug, she was unable to return it and though it said much, she preferred to have her arms around him as well—and also be able to breathe.
“You steal the breath from me, husband,” she said with some difficultly and he loosened his hold on her, though didn’t release her.
She was able to get her arms up and around his neck and was startled when he drew his head back as she went to kiss him.
“How did you get that gash on your head?” he demanded, his eyes focused on it. Before she could answer he turned to Greta, who was nearly to the door. “Greta, she will heal well?”
Greta turned quickly and nodded. “Lady Raven does well. The wound is not deep and bled little. The thick coat of honey should help it heal nicely.”
“You will look in on her later,” he ordered.
Greta nodded and took her leave, Fyn following her out, along with her other men and Lars, leaving the couple alone.
“Tell me what happened?” Wolf demanded and annoyance sparked in his dark eyes when she shook her head.
“Not until you kiss me.”
His annoyance fled as his lips landed on hers in a powerful kiss, lingering in it, letting himself feel the depths of it and know this was real. She was there with him, safe in his arms. He followed it with several short kisses, needing the taste of her to linger on his lips. Finally, though reluctantly, he eased his face away from hers and with one arm around her lowered them to sit on the bench.
“Tell me what happened,” he said, filling two tankards with ale and placing one in front of her.
“I heard the leper was here and it’s been some time since I’ve spoken with him, so I went to look for him.”
“Alone,” he accused.
She ignored him and continued, offering somewhat of an explanation. “I knew he’d be close to the village, seeking shelter or food. There was no reason for me to think it unsafe. After all, you have many warriors still combing the woods since the attack earlier. I was barely in the woods when something struck me. I was hit hard and I had little time to take shelter. Unfortunately, I passed out behind a cropping of rocks which is why your men never spotted me when searching. As soon as I came to and gathered my wits about me, I made my way into the village, ordered word be sent to you, and sought Greta’s help.”
His eyes had been on her wound the whole time she spoke. “That is no wound from a missed arrow. A rock perhaps, but why throw a rock at you?”
“It puzzles me as well,” she said and gripped his forearm as if needing to feel his strength. “George told me what happened to Brother Noble. He rests in the cottage you provided for him and is grateful for your care. Do you know what happened to him?”
Wolf thought on it a moment. “Since he is a leper, no one would get close to him, so I would think the same happened to him that happened to you. He was hit with something that knocked him out.”
“Why though?” she asked, contemplating her own question.
“A warning perhaps, since if it was meant to harm then you would both be dead.”
“Warn us from what?”
“We came across what we thought was another dead man, but when I pulled the knife out of him, he had enough breath left in him to say… ‘He knows.’ I assume he meant Brynjar.”
“It sounds like a warning for someone. Could it mean he knows Eria is here?”
“I wish I knew. The puzzle accumulates more pieces when the ones we have already collected have yet to link.”
“If Brynjar was responsible for his death, then he had to have done something to displease the man,” Raven said.
“Brynjar punishes those who fail him,” Wolf reminded.
Raven was eager to share a thought with him. “Could the archers have been a diversion? Could the man have been tasked with doing someone harm during the attack and chose not to carry out the deed? His punishment for failure—death?”
“Why not at least try?” Wolf questioned. “If it was freedom in death he sought, he could have easily gotten that by trying to carry out his task. He had to have known he’d be followed and swift punishment measured if he didn’t succeed.”
“Maybe he wasn’t part of Brynjar’s crew at all. Maybe we see it wrong.”
Wolf gave it a moment of thought. “Yet who else could he be referring to when he said he knows? Brynjar is the most likely person.”
“I suppose,” she admitted reluctantly.
“You still feel we’re missing something.”
Raven nodded. “The most important piece to the puzzle. The one that connects all the other pieces. It’s right here in front of us. I know it is.”
“Whatever it is, it must hold great value to Brynjar to send men after men to see the task done.”
Her eyes went wide. “Then why come here himself?”
“To finish it, to see firsthand what chaos he has caused, what pain he believes he’s made me and others suffer.”
“But he hasn’t been successful, so why come here until his mission has proven at least somewhat fruitful?” It was a question more to h
erself, and she continued, “Did you have the man who spoke to you brought back to the village? I’d like to see him.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Maybe I’d recognize him.”
“He’s being brought back to join the dead archers.” He held up his hand when his wife went to protest. “I’ll have him put in the shed with the dead man we have yet to identify.”
She smiled, pleased.
Her smile was like a bright ray of sunshine to his soul. It chased away any darkness that lingered there and replaced it with joy. He reached out, his hand gripping the back of her neck and his eyes focused intently on hers.
“Will I constantly have to warn you never to frighten me like that again?” he whispered harshly, just the thought of the pain of losing her feeling like a vicious blow to his gut.
“I wish I could promise you otherwise, Wolf, but I am who I am, and that will never change. What I can promise you is something that I never thought possible.” She kissed his lips gently. “I promise I will never stop loving you. Even after I take my last breath, know that I still and always will love you.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise, wife, and I promise you the same as well.” His lips barely touched hers when the door burst open.
Gorm hurried in. “The sentinels in the keep spotted a troop headed this way—Northmen. They should arrive in a day or more.”
Raven was pleased to hear Wolf order, “Send word to Royden and Arran.”
“I’ll see everyone prepared for battle,” Gorm said.
“No,” Wolf said. “If Brynjar has anyone among us, word will be sent to him. Or if he has men secluded in areas we have yet to find or obscured from the keep’s sentinels, they will see and alert him. It is time to use the warriors I have positioned for just this moment. Get them in place and have them ready. Hagen will lead them.”
Gorm nodded.
“Has the body of the man in the woods been brought back?” Wolf asked.
“He has,” Gorm confirmed.
“Place him in the shed with the other dead man,” Wolf ordered. “Warn the sentinels to remain extra alert as well as the villagers. With Brynjar close there may be those who wish to gain his favor and fulfill any task that others have failed at, or mistakenly believe they would gain their freedom as Brynjar often falsely promises.”
“Lady Raven’s men wait outside. They plan to remain with her wherever she goes.”
“Send them in,” Raven said.
Gorm opened the door and summoned them in.
Raven didn’t wait, she spoke up as soon as they gathered in front of the table. “Brynjar heads this way with a troop of warriors. Wolf has things in hand, which Gorm will explain to you. Fyn, you will stay close to Greta and Tait. George you will keep watch over Eria. Iver see that Brother Noble is informed of the situation and have him remain where he is until it is done. You and Brod shall keep close to me when I’m not with my husband.” She turned to Wolf. “Does that work for you, husband.”
“It does, though I may need Iver’s tracking skills at some point.”
“I am ready whenever you need me,” Iver said with a nod.
“Do you think Brynjar comes for Eria?” George asked, wearing his worry for everyone to see.
“I don’t believe it’s his main reason for being here,” Wolf said. “Though I also don’t believe he’d leave her behind, since he would see it as failure. I’ll see that warriors are assigned along with you to watch over Eria.”
“Brynjar’s troop is no match against us,” Lars boasted.
“Brynjar has captured villages with far less men,” Wolf said. “He is sly and plans well, and he keeps his tongue to himself. He creates chaos before he even attacks and his victims fall easily when the final blow comes.”
“That won’t happen here,” Lars said with a strong resolve as he turned to the others. “Come, we’ll prepare for our unwanted guest.”
The men followed him out, their tongues wagging more rapidly than a bunch of women.
“They begin to work well together,” Wolf said as the door closed behind the men.
“They would since they are all good, skilled warriors.”
Wolf’s eyes settled on her wound.
“You’re not going to leave my side for the remainder of the day, are you?” she asked, though knew the answer.
“That smile of yours tells me you don’t mind,” he said, his smile matching hers.
“I miss you at times,” she admitted.
A playful scowl scrunched his handsome features. “Only at times?” She jabbed him in the chest and he grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss. “I miss you whenever we’re apart, even if it is only for a short time. It sometimes annoys me at how necessary you’ve become to my life.”
She looked about to laugh. “It’s good that I can still annoy you—in a good way.”
He kept hold of her hand. “We need to talk later—”
“About your grandmother?”
“She means a lot to me.”
“Worry not. We both may be stubborn women, but we’re not foolish women. Besides, we both love you and we’ll only make you suffer so much,” she said unable to stop from chuckling.
“You forget I’m called the Beast,” he said and with a low growl settled his mouth at her neck to nip and nibble.
She playfully shoved him away, his nips and nibbles far too tempting. “You can unleash the Beast tonight in bed. Right now I want to go see that dead man.”
“You prefer a dead man over me?” he asked as if wounded.
“Let me think on that,” she said scrunching her brow.
“I’m going to make you pay for that.” His dark eyes narrowed as passion shot like lightning through them.
She leaned closer, her warm breath briefly fanning his face as she whispered a single word. “Promise?” She hurried off the bench, fearful his response would have her rushing him off to their bedchamber.
It was his turn to chuckle. “Don’t trust yourself?”
“Not in the least. My body drips in readiness for you.”
“Damn it, wife,” he said, bolting off the bench.
“Frist the dea—”
Wolf swing her up in his arms and carried her to their bedchamber. “I decide what comes first and that would be us.” She looked about to argue and he held his tongue, since he intended to have his way no matter what she said.
“Your need is great so I won’t deny you,” she said, her arms going around his neck.
He laughed. “My need?”
“Aye, we’ll see your need satisfied before anything else.”
“How generous of you, wife.”
“We’ll be quick now and take our time later,” she said.
“Are you implying this quick one won’t satisfy you?”
“Are you implying you won’t want me later?” she countered.
He stepped into their bedchamber and when she reached past him to shut the door, he stole a forceful kiss, then whispered, “I always want you, Raven.”
“And I you,” she murmured.
He hurried to the bed, dropping her down on her feet, ready to strip her naked when she paled and looked ready to topple over. He swung her back up in his arms and sat on the bed, cradling her in his lap.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I am lightheaded and my stomach churns,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.
He silently cursed himself. He had given no thought to her wound. “You need rest not a poke. Your wound has done more damage than you think.”
He was probably right, but she wouldn’t admit it. “I am fine.”
“You will be after you rest,” he said and stood, then placed her on the bed.
“I don’t need rest,” she protested as he went to slip off her boots. She tried bolting up but grew dizzy when she did and collapsed back on the pillow.
“This is no time to be stubborn,” he warned. “If you don’t rest now, what will happen if you
grow worse?” If anything, he knew his wife was good at seeing reason as she did now, her eyes closing in thought.
“I suppose a short rest could prove beneficial,” she said. “But first you must promise me something.”
“That depends on what you ask,” he said, thinking she’d insist they make love first.
She knew what he had assumed. “I’m not going to force you to make love with me.” The grin on his face told her enough, but it was nice to hear him confirm it.
“Never will you ever have to force me to make love to you.” He kissed her gently. “So what is this promise you want from me?”
“Before someone else has a chance, I want you to go and see if the dead man has a knife in his boot and bring it to me so I can see if it is similar to the other one I saw and was stolen.”
“You think them connected?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, but if he carries a similar knife then it proves they are connected, and I don’t think that connection is Brynjar. And you’ll come back right away and let me know?”
He eased her anxiousness. “I will return immediately to report one way or the other.”
“I wait impatiently.”
“Of course you do.” He kissed her cheek and left the room, hurrying to carry out her request before she got out of bed and saw to the task herself.
Though nightfall was nearly upon them, the village was busy with activity. Wolf held no doubt that they would be prepared for whatever Brynjar intended just as they had been when the attack came on the village and was stopped before any lives were lost or damage done. But what was his intention? He scowled without realizing it, people staying clear of him as he headed to the shelter that housed the two dead men.
Wolf hurried into the shelter and went straight to the recent dead man’s boots and stood and stared for a moment. A hilt of a knife was tucked in one of them and he carefully slipped it out. His steps were rushed as he headed back to the keep, many casting curious eyes at him, and he not noticing. He was eager to find out if the knife was similar to the one his wife had seen in the other dead man’s boot.
Wolf wasn’t surprised to find Raven sitting up in bed or that her hands eagerly reached out to him when she spotted the knife he held.
Highlander Oath Of The Beast Page 24