Still.
This rocked.
Alone. At last. She tore off her clothes, slipped into the warm water, leaned her head back and closed her eyes, relishing the relief between her thighs. Yet something was off. Lacking…
Raknar.
Her eyes shot open as emotions swamped her from out of nowhere. Since the moment he'd kissed her so thoroughly after sex to the careful way he helped her redress, Veronica had forced herself to stop thinking. About him. Them. What they shared. How far they had traveled though the boat hadn’t drifted far at all.
Naðr being Naðr, had been curt when they docked and Megan ushered her away.
And Veronica had allowed it.
Why?
Because she needed to think without Raknar near. About how she might possibly defend him today. Though she had continued to model and ran a successful magazine back home, she never turned her back on her passion.
Law.
Day after day, she’d come home from work and read the newspaper, always following the high profile cases. It became a hobby to work them out in her mind. How she would handle them. She plotted out her defense then watch eagerly to see if the defense attorneys did the same. For the most part they did. A total Law & Order television series junkie, she knew what she was doing.
So right now, here in ninth century Scandinavia, though she had no newspaper, Raknar’s case spun within her mind. Typically at home she would sleep on it but it seemed she crashed too hard last night. Even so.
She had this.
After she finished bathing, she jumped out of the tub, raked the towel over her and yanked on the clothes Megan had laid out, barely paying attention…until she did. Appearance was important in court—or at the Thing—and it was best to dress like a professional.
So she paused, amazed at what Megan had provided. Light brown linen pants and a tunic cinched at the waist. It was almost...a business outfit? Though not alluring in a sensual sense it was attractive and streamlined with slimming strips of leather woven within to give it a crisp, almost professional look.
Viking-like professional.
What was her sister up to?
Better yet Naðr Véurr.
God only knew with those two.
Yet now it was time to focus on everything she had to say. Veronica thought it through as she combed her hair, twisted it up into a knot and slashed a simple jeweled barb through it to hold it in place. No jewelry or make-up.
When she strode out of the holding, Kjar appeared alongside, more weapons strapped to his strong body than usual. Not a good sign. But one worth paying attention to. No words were exchanged. His eyes met hers and he nodded. She nodded back.
People were everywhere outside, but there were even more inside the main holding. If she wasn’t mistaken, the whole village had shown up. A wide, thick swath of bodies lined the long room. The king sat on a raised dais with Kol standing nearby.
Everything felt like it was in slow motion as she came to the edge of the crowd and saw Raknar standing beside another man in front of Naðr. Apparently he was the guy defending Hamdir.
Raknar didn’t belong there. It was wrong. And she was determined to see things made right.
Naðr’s eyes fell on the beefy warrior beside Raknar. “Idmund Svolnir, state your accusation against Raknar Sigdir.”
Idmund notched his chin. “I accuse Raknar Sigdir of killing Hamdir then taking his claim.”
She was claimed, her ass. Okay, sure, last night, in a really good way. And not by Hamdir’s sorry dead carcass. But best to stay professional.
The king’s eyes fell on his brother, tone formal. “And what do you say to that, Raknar Sigdir.”
“I protected Veronica by necessary means.” His voice grew low, lethal. “And I would do it again.”
Too much honesty. Did she expect anything else?
Though furious, Veronica locked her emotions away, stepped forward, and met Naðr’s eyes. “With your permission, I would like to speak on behalf of Raknar Sigdir.” When a distressed murmur arose from the crowd, she corrected herself. “I would like to speak alongside Raknar Sigdir.”
Now the crowd’s murmur was more favorable.
Idmund huffed and looked from her to Naðr. “That would be unfair. She is Raknar’s woman.”
“I’m no man’s woman,” she said evenly.
“Silence.” Naðr’s brows lowered as he eyed her. “If I allow you to stand by Raknar’s side then I grant the same to Idmund.” His open, welcoming gaze swung over the crowd. “Who here will stand by Idmund’s side?”
Veronica gave him a lot of credit. He was showing no favoritism. Still, fear would be natural for any who stood up against his brother. Yet as she gazed around, she realized that none if any genuinely wanted to. They weren’t frightened by the king’s potential wrath. Rather their eyes were open and honest as they shook their heads.
It seemed Hamdir hadn’t been a real popular guy.
Or Naðr Véurr and Raknar were truly admired.
She would bet a bit of both.
Nonetheless, she was here to fight for Raknar.
Arms crossed over his wide chest, Raknar’s eyes met hers briefly when she stood beside him. His face might be expressionless, the set of his brows stoic if not ferocious, but she didn’t miss the spark of admiration in his eyes. The honest to God respect he felt toward her. He might be a warring, dominant male, but he was not so foolish he’d set aside help now. And his softening made her feel all that much stronger.
If she didn’t have enough strength to see this through before, she certainly did now.
“Then we begin,” Naðr declared and looked from man to man before his eyes settled on Idmund. “State the entirety of your claim and the justice you seek.”
Idmund stood up straighter. “I seek the justice my friend Hamdir did but you never gave. The right to claim the woman found on English shores. When he sought out what you would not give him, he only met death…by your brother’s blade! So I also seek Raknar Sigdir’s death.”
Murmurs rose and fell over the crowd.
Naðr’s emotionless eyes fell on Raknar. “State clearly your rebuttal, Raknar Sigdir.”
“I defended a woman sent by the gods when one of ours meant to rape her.”
A rumor of approval met this.
Raknar would not throw Naðr under the bus and she appreciated that...to a point.
The king’s eyes met hers. “You stand up for Raknar. State your reason, woman.”
Though beyond tempted to state the obvious, Naðr’s part in his brother’s ultimate demise, she’d follow Raknar’s lead, as long as it worked.
“I traveled here from the year 2015.” Her gaze went to the crowd. “Over a thousand years from now.” When many met her eyes in both awe and thankfulness that she was defending Raknar, she turned her attention back to the king. “Where I come from things are much different but yes, I can only gather that the gods sent me here with a purpose." She gestured at Raknar. "This man protected me from potential harm and I feel he deserves the same in return."
“The law states that if a man finds a woman on a raid and claims her, she belongs to him,” Idmund said, not backing down.
Veronica spoke before Raknar could. Thinking about the frightened women who were released in England, she wanted an answer to this one. “What of your laws in regards to protecting women on these raids?”
“The laws in place are meant to protect our people,” Naðr said. "Noone else."
“Got that,” she responded, feeling a familiar fire burn beneath her skin. But she was smart enough not to turn this argument against the king. Instead, she turned so that she could eye the crowd, most especially the women. “But have your people, your women, ever wondered what it might be like if this fortress was raided and they were torn from their families and used roughly against their will.”
She gazed over the crowd, grateful no children were here as she raised her voice. “What would it be like if your women were taken,
claimed…raped,” she seethed, meeting the eyes of many men then women before her eyes went to Idmund. “Do you suppose your men would bother with a trial in that case?”
Many women hitched their chin and nodded their approval. And some men. Yet many still grunted their disapproval, murmurs rising.
“It’s our right.”
“They have it coming.”
“The enemy all.”
Veronica kept her jaw set and face expressionless as she straightened her shoulders and met Naðr’s eyes. Time to feed on Viking superstition. “I was not Hamdir’s claim.” She didn’t look at anyone but stared straight ahead when she said, “God willing, or your gods willing, you’ll never be raided and watch your women taken.”
She couldn’t help but swing her eyes over the crowd one more time, fire burning in her blood. “If you do, remember what I say here today. Women and children are innocent, whether from my era or yours. If you continue to do what you’re doing, it makes retribution on yourselves welcome by any god. Where I come from it’s called Karma.”
Karma.
The single word murmured through the crowd faster than a hummingbird’s wings.
Wholly aware of the shift of the people, Idmund’s voice rose up as his eyes fell on her. “I do not know this word Karma.” His eyes shot to Naðr. “I only know the law my king has laid.” His eyes swung to Raknar. “One that is supposed to keep my kinsmen from being slaughtered for no just cause.”
When Raknar made to speak, she touched his arm and shook her head.
Luckily, he listened.
Done with abiding by Viking laws, Veronica strode up to Naðr then turned, crossed her arms over her chest and met not Idmund’s eyes, but all the people standing in a wide circle around him. “Raknar Sigdir defended me against a man who meant to take me against my will. That is just cause. Raknar does not deserve to be condemned for such an act.”
She again met the eyes of as many women as she could and hoped she wouldn’t have to do what Megan obviously thought she might. That the law might still suffice. Her eyes met Idmund’s. “Do the right thing. Know that your friend was wrong and so are you.”
Though tempted to add that the king never approved Hamdir’s claim of her, which was part of their law, she bit her tongue. Raknar wanted his brother left out of this.
So she kept eyes locked with Idmund’s and hoped for the best. Please let this go well. Please let the law see it through. Then again, they were talking about a law that gave a man the right to claim a woman against her will to begin with so she didn't have much faith. Thankfully, it sounded like the crowd was siding with Raknar.
Regrettably, that wasn't going over real well with Idmund. Fury built in his bleary eyes. Nope, it looked like he was moving beyond words now.
He ground his jaw like a bull, nostrils flaring.
And just like a bull he charged.
With years of self-defense classes under her belt, Veronica was ready. She spun fast and met his stomach with her foot. Before he knew what hit him, she drove a knee into his balls and rammed the heel of her palm beneath his chin. He might have her by half a foot, but Idmund fell like a ton of bricks. She pulled her dagger free, straddled him and dug the blade against his juggler before he could take another breath. Then she grabbed the other small dagger she’d been provided, shoved it against his ball sack, blade aimed to the right, ready to slice.
“Don’t give into fear, Veronica.” Her sister’s words. So long ago.
Damn, this definitely wasn’t the justice she meant to deal. But here she was. And here was the man pinned beneath her. So she saw it through, eyes rising to all. “He could have fought with words but instead fought with actions. Why? Because he was afraid. Why? Because he's wrong.” She dug the blade tighter against his neck and didn’t bother looking at the men anymore but as many women as she could lock eyes with. “You can conquer and take without women suffering. There are ways around it!”
Infuriated, shaking, she drew back and made to strike.
But a hand grasped her wrist.
Raknar’s.
“No,” he said softly. His eyes held hers then went to the crowd. “The fate of this man.” He shook his head. “No, my fate is in your hands.”
Only then did Veronica realize how far beyond the law she had gone. After Raknar pulled her off of Idmund and she rolled back her shoulders, she also realized she stood in the very position that Amber had drawn before she traveled back in time.
Veronica closed her eyes, shook her head and remained by Raknar’s side.
She wasn’t embarrassed. Not at all. She had given into something she didn’t know existed within her. And she refused to apologize for it. Her only downfall was that she didn’t see through what she believed in most…law and why it existed.
And that realization about crippled her.
Naðr Véurr appeared to be contemplating everything that had transpired as his gaze roamed over not only her but Raknar and Idmund. She did not like the look in his eyes nor the decision she knew he had to make. Though beyond tempted to declare she was marked by the seers to be with Raknar, she held her tongue. It was bad enough she’d acted with violence when words might have achieved the same outcome. Now was the time for law, something she had clearly abandoned.
Anger and pain were unmistakable in the king’s eyes as they fell from Idmund to Raknar before settling on his people. “I have heard both arguments, such as they were. Now I need to know if there were witnesses. Did Raknar Sigdir kill Hamdir?”
The room fell utterly silent.
Torches spit. Thunder rumbled.
But nobody spoke.
The king’s voice grew louder as his eyes swept over his people. “Yes, we speak of my brother but I believe more in the justice of my people than anything else. Did Raknar Sigdir kill Hamdir?”
Raknar was about to speak, no doubt proclaiming his guilt, when a woman’s cry came from the back. “I never did see who swept the blade.”
Naðr made to speak, but another woman cried from off to the right. “The last I saw Raknar, he was safe and sound in bed.”
“Last I saw him, he was riding my sister,” another woman announced.
“No, he was with my cousin, grunting like a pig all night,” another yelled.
“He was between me and my cousin until the morn,” another proclaimed.
“Raknar Sigdir?” another woman, young and beautiful, cupped her breasts. “You all create stories. He was with me all night. A woman doesn’t forget having a man like him.”
“Then why would I swear he was between my legs when Hamdir was killed,” another woman argued, hands on her hips as she stared at the king with a twinkle in her eyes.
Then it was a mad squabble but a wholly appreciated show of support from too many women to count before Naðr roared, “Enough!”
Murmurs died, leaving nothing behind but Idmund’s incredulous stare as he watched the king. Raknar remained stoic by her side, as though nothing had transpired. Then again, he welcomed death, didn’t he?
The king eyed everyone, letting the silence stretch. “As far as I can tell there is no proof…”
His words were interrupted by a red-faced Idmund. “Then I redirect my claim to Veronica for trying to kill me just now. I demand punishment.”
“Granted,” the king said immediately, a stealthy grin splitting his face, eyes wild. “But do it now, Idmund.”
Raknar tensed and took up a position in front of her.
Yet he held no weapon.
But she still did.
Her eyes met her sister’s. There was nothing but strength in Megan’s direct gaze. Hell. She and Naðr had planned this a little too perfectly. The only problem? She had never killed. And she didn’t want to.
But she would if she had to.
Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.
Raknar pulled her back as a medley of daggers and arrows started to thrum into Idmund out of nowhere. Over and over, so many deadly weapons. Where were they coming from? But the c
rowd shifted here and there, clearly protecting those who had unleashed their weapons.
Far too many to survive.
Idmund soon fell at their feet, body unmoving.
Silence stretched.
Naðr eyed the crowd for several long moments and instead of declaring any decision he might have come to, he left his brother’s fate up to his people. “Is it your wish that Raknar Sigdir be freed from the charges of killing Hamdir?”
“Yes!” everyone roared unanimously.
“Raknar’s never done us wrong,” some cried.
“He’s protected us as long as you have,” others reminded.
“We protect our own,” most declared.
“He’s still welcome in my bed,” many women called out.
Silence once more fell as King Naðr Véurr considered before at last nodding. “If this is what my people wish…granted!”
Another loud roar of approval filled the room. Honestly, the American courts would have already had her license revoked and barred her from practicing. But she wasn’t at home right now and as far as she could tell, they’d won.
Raknar, consistent to the bone, only offered a thin smile as people swarmed around him, offering pats on the back. Kol draped an arm over her shoulder then pulled her into a hug, murmuring, “Thank you, sister.”
She wasn’t so sure he should be thanking her so she didn't reply. It was good to see Kol as happy as he was when they met. It made her think of the image Kjar had carved in the ship that first brought her here. The one Megan had been eager to show her yesterday. He’d chosen the hull for his artwork. It depicted her and Kol holding onto a rope attached to a sail as Raknar flung his arms into the wind.
People continued to swarm around them in the hall. Though Kol seemed determined to keep her with him, Kjar thought differently and the next thing she knew she was in his arms. He tucked her against him, arms gentle, voice even gentler when he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You are everything Raknar deserves. And needs.”
Veronica wasn’t so sure about that, but it didn’t much matter when she found herself against Raknar. His stillness, his calm, drew her to him. However, she sensed them getting too cozy right now after what just happened wasn’t a good idea.
Viking Claim (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors Book 2) Page 15