Sold to the Viking Warrior

by Michelle Styles

  Aedan examined the ground. ‘You are my sister-in-law. You should never have been a slave. I will give you sanctuary.’

  ‘I had more freedom as a slave than I ever did as Brandon’s wife,’ Liddy retorted. ‘Sigurd cared for me. He valued my opinions. Now he is in danger. Something needs to be done to help him.’

  ‘That man cares for nothing but his own skin. I know his type. He won’t return. He will make some arrangement with Ketil Flatnose.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You know nothing about him—who he is and what he believes in.’ Liddy tightened her grip on the cross. It frightened her that he’d given his most precious possession to her. It was as if he never expected to see her again. ‘But I do and I know he loves me.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘He has just given me this. He wore it around his neck, always.’ Liddy opened her hand to show him the cross.

  Aedan’s eyes widened. ‘His what? Your pagan Northman carries a cross? You mean...he believes in Christ?’

  ‘His mother’s cross. Sigurd’s father had it made for his mother as a sign of his devotion. She always wore it until she decided to save Sigurd by agreeing to be burnt on his father’s funeral pyre.’ Liddy quickly put it over her head and tucked the cross down her front. The metal held a faint warmth from Sigurd’s body. ‘It kept him safe. Now he has given it to me.’

  ‘Sigurd’s father did that?’

  ‘She left hers behind when her father sold her to the Northmen,’ Liddy said quietly. ‘I believe Sigurd’s father loved his mother and she found some measure of happiness as a slave. She certainly loved her son. Everything might not be as simple as it first appears. Being Sigurd’s slave was not the worst thing to happen, but the best thing.’

  ‘I fail to see how that is possible.’

  ‘After my children died, I was like the walking dead, willing to believe I was cursed and rightly shunned. Sigurd showed me the way back to life and that I deserve good things in my life. My enslavement ultimately has given me a reason to live. He restored my belief in my goodness.’ Liddy put her hand over Aedan’s. ‘I know you think you are doing the best for me, but you have to allow me to go where I want to. I have a different path to follow.’

  Aedan’s brows drew together. ‘I believe I may have wronged your man. I won’t force you to return to Kintra, but you will always have a place at my hearth and I mean that. You must go somewhere and Sigurd wanted you with me.’

  Malcolm rushed up. His tunic was torn and his face muddy, but other than he appeared unhurt. ‘Is it true, Liddy? Sigurd left you behind? It means you have been freed!’

  ‘There are many types of freedom,’ Liddy replied. She wanted to break down and weep, but her body felt completely numb. Sigurd had thought he was doing the right thing, but she knew it was absolutely the last thing she wanted. She wanted to find a way to help him. ‘I believe I have been given a life sentence.’

  ‘It is good riddance then.’

  Liddy placed a hand on her stomach. She had to hope that she would have a child to remember him by. She no longer feared having a child, but desperately wanted one to keep a piece of Sigurd with her. ‘He was...no...is the best man I ever knew.’

  ‘Then why did you let him go?’ Malcolm asked. ‘Why did you allow him to ride away?’

  ‘Because he wanted it that way.’ Liddy paused. Sigurd couldn’t search for the missing tribute, but she could. Was that what he meant earlier when he spoke of the Northmen from Dubh Linn being familiar with this part of the coast? ‘Exactly what did happen to you when you were taken prisoner?’

  ‘I went to sell the winter cabbages.’ Malcolm rubbed his head so his hair stood straight up. ‘At the market I happened to see Lord Thorbin and told him that they were from that field he had been inspecting so closely. He and that woman with the red-gold shawl. She was a beauty, Liddy. All dark hair and curves. Even from a distance, I could see that. He went mad and accused me of all sorts of things.’

  Liddy forgot how to breathe. Shona, the missing mistress. It had to be. Liddy tried to contain her nervous excitement. ‘You never mentioned seeing a woman with a red-gold shawl.’

  ‘I didn’t think it important.’ Malcolm reddened. ‘They went into the trees.’

  ‘Did you see the woman leave with him?’

  ‘It was a moonlit night, Liddy. She could have done. I didn’t stick around.’ Malcolm ran his hands through his hair. ‘Maybe...I am not sure. When I went back the next day, the earth had been disturbed. I figured they were doing some sort of ritual.’

  ‘Can you show me?’

  He looked at her strangely. ‘You know the field, Liddy. It is the one which overlooks this bay. Strictly speaking I suppose it is your dower lands, but I didn’t see any point in having it lay fallow.’

  ‘But you saw Thorbin there,’ she persisted. ‘And that day he thought you were trying to blackmail him. It is why he put you in prison. You had not done anything wrong, but you could speak about what you saw.’

  ‘What are you saying? What did I see?’ Malcolm asked. ‘Have you lost your wits, Liddy?’

  ‘Malcolm, on the pain of death, you do what I say.’ Liddy rocked back on her heels, all tiredness vanishing. ‘You owe me your life and I am calling that debt in.’

  She had this one chance to make things right. She fingered her mark—she could do it. If she could find the gold, she could make things right. She could tip the balance in Sigurd’s favour, but she didn’t have much time and she didn’t really have a clue of where to start except a hunch.

  Malcolm gave a brief nod. ‘Anything for you, Liddy. You risked your life for me. I can do this thing in return.’

  * * *

  Sigurd rode into the fort with a heavy heart. He had done what was for the best, leaving Liddy behind and not putting up a fight for her. Aedan would look after her.

  Until this mess with Beyla was sorted, he had no right to offer her anything. He certainly could not do what his father had done.

  He should have known that Beyla would not have come meekly. She was one of the best tafl players he had ever seen, always thinking several steps ahead.

  ‘Ah, Sigurd, at last you arrive.’ The blonde woman, waiting at the gates dressed in fine robes, inclined her head. ‘I take it you received the message.’

  ‘You want blood money for your husband’s death. You are not entitled to anything.’

  Her face became wreathed in deceptive innocence. ‘I understand from Lord Ketil that you were supposed to arrest my husband. The charge against him had not been proved. Thorbin always paid his share on time. He knew the consequences. There has been a dreadful mistake. Ketil is here to see that justice is done.’

  ‘Your husband died in a legitimate challenge for the leadership,’ Sigurd retorted. ‘No blood money needs to be paid in those circumstances. I know the law as well as you.’

  Beyla put her nose in the air. ‘We shall see about that. Lord Ketil may have a different conclusion once he knows the full facts. You had my husband in chains.’

  Sigurd put his hands on his head. ‘I am happy to have the case tried in due course, but I will be exonerated.’

  An elderly man came and stood beside Beyla. With the easy familiarity that Beyla excelled in, she put her arm through his. Ketil patted her hand.

  ‘Ah, Sigurd Sigmundson, you deign to arrive.’ His voice appeared chipped from stone.

  Sigurd bowed low. ‘Jaarl Ketil, I regret that I was not here when you arrived but there was a little difficulty with Ivar the Boneless’s men. They had taken liberties with this island. They will not do so again. I believe your envoy might have stumbled across the evidence and that was why he was murdered.’

  ‘He lies,’ Beyla said. ‘The only reason that—’

  Ketil waved a hand, silencing her. ‘And the outcome?’


  Sigurd threw the Northman’s sword down at Ketil’s feet. ‘A victory, of course. One long-boat was burnt, one escaped, but one I claimed as bounty in your name.’

  Ketil nodded and moved away from Beyla. ‘And did any survive?’

  ‘A few. Arrangements have been made for their transport here so they can be questioned.’

  ‘No more than I would expect. Good work.’

  Sigurd looked at Beyla. Two could play at this game. ‘I have reason to suspect that that woman’s late husband had been conspiring with Ivar. There are islanders who complain that their fishing grounds have been repeatedly violated.’

  ‘These Gaels always find a reason to complain,’ Beyla said quickly. ‘My lord, for the love you bore my father, I ask that this man’s claims be dismissed. Has anyone found the missing tribute? It is possible that these ruffians from Ivar the Boneless stole it. It is entirely possible that my husband was innocent.’

  ‘We examine the charges in the morning.’ Ketil opened his arms. ‘For now we feast and celebrate the victory over Ivar. You do keep a good hall, Sigurd. Where is this slave, the one who enabled you to fight Thorbin? Hring has had a few words to say about her.’

  ‘Alas, Eilidith is no longer with me.’

  ‘She escaped? How careless of you,’ Beyla drawled.

  ‘She returned to her family,’ Sigurd said between gritted teeth.

  Ketil brushed an imaginary speck of his cloak. ‘Pity, I could have used someone like that to run my household. I understand she is worth the largest estate’s tribute.’

  ‘You will have your share paid at the usual time,’ Sigurd said. ‘You know my wealth is more than equal to it.’

  ‘I do hope so.’ Ketil turned on his heel and strode off towards the hall.

  Beyla made a move to join him, but Sigurd caught her arm and held her back. ‘I have no idea what you are playing at,’ he bit out, ‘but you won’t win. Drop it now and you may yet retain something for your son. Push me and you will have nothing. Your husband was a traitor and died a traitor’s death.’

  Beyla jerked her arm from him. Her eyes flashed cold fire. He wondered that he had ever thought her fascinating. Unlike Liddy, there was something reptilian and cold about her. ‘I am not playing at anything. You should never have killed my husband in cold blood. But perhaps you thought you and I could be together again as we once were.’ She tapped her finger against her mouth. ‘Yes, that is why you sent your man to me. I see it now and you wish to claim my son as yours. Thorbin confessed his fear to you. A marriage will give us all that we dreamed of long ago...when we made my son.’

  ‘I have no plans to marry you,’ Sigurd stated between gritted teeth, struggling to control his temper. He had to hope that Beyla had some feeling for her son and would see the sense of not pursuing her claim of blood money. ‘What we shared ended a long time ago and it ended badly. It suited you to proclaim Thorbin as your son’s father. That is how it will remain. I don’t want you to be here on a false assumption.’

  Her lips became a thin white line. ‘Then I hope you have lots of gold as I intend to take it.’

  ‘I owe you no blood price.’

  ‘Thorbin was a great warrior. The rumours against him were all slander and lies. If he had been given the chance, he would have disproved them. We shall never know because someone killed him before he had a chance, against direct orders, I understand.’ She jerked her head towards the hall. ‘Enjoy the feast, Sigurd. It will be the last one you have.’

  Sigurd clung on to his temper, just. He refused to give her the satisfaction. ‘We both know what Thorbin was like. He answered a challenge and paid the price.’

  ‘I will not have my son left destitute.’ Her face falsely softened. ‘Sigmund could be our son, Sigurd.’

  ‘I understood he was Thorbin’s acknowledged heir.’

  Beyla gave a tiny shrug. ‘We never had other children and Thorbin had no other children. I like to think of him as yours. I do have regrets, Sigurd, lots of them.’

  Beyla clapped her hands and a youth of about seven came out. Sigurd’s heart sank. Beyla was right. The boy did look like he had when he was that age, but that proved nothing. Thorbin and he had shared a father.

  ‘He is a fine young man, I’m sure.’

  ‘Now do you understand whom I fight for? Whom you seek to take everything away from?’

  ‘You will not be happy.’

  ‘Have I ever been happy?’ Beyla answered with a sad smile. ‘I am giving you the choice, Sigurd. You find the missing gold and demonstrate that my husband was the villain you claim, or we marry and you rule this place. Ketil will understand my reasoning. He knows of our past. You can have everything you ever wished for.’

  Sigurd stared over Beyla’s shoulder. Everything he wished for? How empty his life would be if he chose the so-called glittering future Beyla dangled in front of him. What he truly wished for had a pair of storm-tossed eyes and a butterfly on her chin. She had taught him that life was more than riches or honour, that living was about love and kindness. ‘And if I choose neither option?’

  Her face hardened into a mask of rage. ‘I will destroy you. I did it once. I can do it again.’

  Sigurd knew then who had been responsible for the final betrayal. It had not been Thorbin, but Beyla. ‘Who left the food and arrows at the place where we used to meet? The truth.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Thorbin. He couldn’t bring himself to kill his brother. I wasn’t brave enough to go against his mother, so I asked him to do it. You needed to be gone. That woman wanted you destroyed. But all of that is in the past, Sigurd. You have no idea what having a wife like me can achieve.’

  He stood very straight and made the perfect bow. ‘Then, my lady, it is my duty to inform you that I would rather marry a viper than a woman like you.’

  ‘If that is the way you want it.’ Her eyes glittered. ‘It will be war, then.’

  ‘It is. To the victor, the spoils.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘Awk, Liddy, I’ve no idea where to start. You are searching for something which isn’t there. Will you nay give it up?’

  Liddy surveyed the area just below the field they had used for cabbages last spring. There had to be a reason why Thorbin had travelled here. The group of oaks to the right of the field did look like the sacred grove. ‘It will be here. Where is it that you saw the disturbed dirt?’

  ‘The only thing you will discover is a sore back,’ Malcolm muttered, leaning on the spade he had retrieved.

  ‘But this is where you saw Thorbin and the woman. Thorbin departed and the woman didn’t. He will have killed her so that her spirit will guard his treasure.’

  ‘Yes, it was a full moon, the one before Easter. I was a bit late because I had been...well...there is no need for you to know what I had been doing over at the ale house.’

  ‘I have a healthy imagination, Malcolm.’

  Malcolm wrinkled his nose. ‘Just so you don’t go proclaiming to all and sundry.’

  Liddy laughed. It felt good to have her brother back. ‘Silent as the grave, me.’

  Malcolm frowned. ‘That is not in the least bit funny. If he killed someone here, her ghost will walk this place.’

  ‘I need to know what you remember from that ale-fuddled night. Where precisely was that woman?’

  ‘It was dark. I saw nothing beyond them going into this grove.’ Malcolm threw down the spade in disgust. ‘Why is this important? What one Northman did with his woman is nought to do with us.’

  ‘Because it might save Sigurd.’ Liddy regarded the great oak. ‘I love him. I feel alive when I am with him. Your memories of that night may provide a way to save him. Why did you look at this field in the first place?’

  Malcolm screwed up his eyes. ‘A shriek like an owl caused me to look over and I saw
the pair. He was dragging her. She fought against him, but I recognised him and decided to stay away. I’d seen him in the area several times. I also didn’t stick around to see where they went. The next morning, I was hunting and went into the oak grove. The earth was disturbed. That is all I know.

  Grim determination filled Liddy. She could clearly see the sacred grove with its bodies. The configuration of oaks was nearly similar. ‘He killed that woman to protect something and then buried it. We try digging in the middle of that grove.’

  Malcolm screwed up his face. ‘Are you sure? It is not where I saw the disturbed dirt. That was more under the largest oak. Or at least I think it was. My head was a bit fuzzy, you know.’

  ‘I know precisely how hazy your memory can be and if I was going to bury something, I’d start in the middle.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Dig, brother dear, dig.’

  * * *

  Sigurd sat in his room with Coll’s head on his knee. Returning Coll at least gave him an excuse to contact Liddy and see if she would forgive him for sending her away. He should be able to clear his name, provided that Ketil was prepared to listen, rather than having his mind poisoned by Beyla’s lies. He might lose the jaarldom, but they could have a good life together.

  Coll gave him a hard look.

  ‘I know, boy, I miss her as well and I should never have allowed her to go.’

  Hring entered without bothering to knock. Coll gave a low growl, but didn’t move from Sigurd’s side.

  ‘I thought you should know there is a guard outside your chamber.’

  ‘I am hardly likely to flee.’ Sigurd scratched Coll behind the ears. ‘Is there something you wanted to say to me, Hring?’

  ‘I wanted to apologise. I thought you exaggerated about Lady Beyla. Then I witnessed her performance today. I had understood she hated Thorbin.’ Hring scratched his head. ‘But she saved her real bile for you.’

  ‘No, she only hates the idea of being poor and without power.’ Sigurd concentrated on Coll, who licked his hand. ‘Once, long ago, I thought she was different, but power consumes her.’