by Terry Spear
“Seamus’s men?” Gunnolf quickly asked Brina.
“Aye. Both would kill you without giving it a second thought. Dinna listen to them if they say they willna harm you.”
“Aye.” Gunnolf knew they would kill him given half the chance just because he was with the lass. He would have told her to ride ahead, but he couldn’t in all good conscience do so. Not when she had no protector to watch over her. If he were to die here, the men would catch up to her anyway, and he would be able to do nothing about it.
“I will return.” He leapt onto his horse and rode at a gallop toward the men, knowing that even at these odds he could be a dead man, but he would do all he could to keep the lass safe from Seamus and his men.
“We draw no weapons against you!” the one man said, but the other man must not have heard the plan correctly because he had unsheathed his sword.
“I am here under peaceful means.” Gunnolf spoke the words for Seamus’s men’s benefit in the event the warriors broke off the fight. But he was ready to use Aðalbrandr if necessary. He couldn’t hesitate. Since they were Seamus’s men, they were at cross-purposes. If these men indicated that they’d leave him and Brina be, they might attempt to ambush them later when they were trying to sleep, or return to Seamus to let him know where they were. Then Gunnolf would have to face all his men at one time. He knew from their hard expressions, they meant to kill him.
Fighting two men was much better odds than six. Gunnolf turned his horse sharply to the outside of the rightmost rider and swung his sword at him since he was the one armed. At this angle, Gunnolf had the advantage. His and the black-eyed man’s swords hit hard, the vibration jarring Gunnolf’s arm as he rode past, the clanging of metal ringing across the mist. Gunnolf hoped the other men were far away and wouldn’t hear the sound of the swordfight.
He whipped around to fight the man again and saw the other galloping after Brina, who had taken off in the direction they had to go. The man he’d fought was anticipating taking Gunnolf down, but now the odds were only one against one, and Gunnolf smiled with dark satisfaction.
Though he had to end this quickly, ride after the other man, and take him down before he absconded with Brina.
6
Her heart pounding wildly, Brina galloped along the beach away from the man pursuing her. Then deciding she couldn’t outrun Lann, she guided her horse into the woods, stopped, and readied the bow. He was the same man who had shot her, when he was supposed to be bringing her in alive, not killing or injuring her! He unsheathed his sword from its scabbard.
Holding her breath, she pulled the string taut and released. The arrow struck him in the chest, but he kept coming, murder in his black expression. He would kill her, not bring her to Seamus, she assumed, and she hurried to nock another arrow. She couldn’t see Gunnolf for the fog, but she heard him fighting the other man, swords clashing, a few curses in Gaelic, and some shouts in a language she didn’t recognze. She prayed Gunnolf would be victorious.
She released the second arrow and it struck her attacker’s chest, lodging next to the other arrow. He was so near her now, she was afraid she had only one last shot before he was too close to effectively use the bow. She readied another arrow, hoping she could hit him before he swung at her with his sword. If he killed her, how would he explain her death to Seamus? Maybe he thought to hide her body and pretend he’d never found her.
The wolf pup squirmed to get out of the plaid she’d wrapped him in against her waist, making her shot go higher than she’d planned. To her surprise, the arrow struck the brigand in the center of his forehead. Upon impact, Lann grunted, lost his sword and it sank into the snow. He fell from his horse and landed on the ground with a dull thud. His horse ran on past her. Relieved that she had taken him down, she still worried about Gunnolf, and Seamus and the rest of his men should they hear the fighting.
Her heart was pounding hard, as she considered her options. Should she ride off and hope Gunnolf was successful and catch up to her? Or wait for him?
If Gunnolf had killed Kear but was wounded, she’d have to take care of Gunnolf. She couldn’t leave him behind to save herself.
She waited, watching the man she had shot full of arrows for signs of life. Lann lay lifeless on the ground for which she was grateful. She’d only killed one other man before when she’d had to defend herself. She thought she should be upset by the sight, but he would have killed her, had injured her already, and she could feel nothing but relief that he had not wounded her or ended her life. Then she glanced back in the direction of the fighting. The sounds of battle were no more, the snorting of horses, the only sound she heard. Her heart was still racing, cold chills crawling all over her as she watched for any sign of a victor. Had both men been wounded and were lying in the snow suffering from their injuries?
She was about to ride forth to check on Gunnolf, when a horse galloped in her direction, and she readied her bow. If it was the man who had been fighting Gunnolf, she prayed he had not killed her rescuer and that she could take Seamus’s man down, then go to Gunnolf’s aid.
The horse continued galloping toward her, the rider intent on catching up to her. The rider and black horse suddenly materialized out of the mist like a dark avenging angel, Gunnolf, a scowl on his face. His furs flying in the wind, the bearded Viking looked straight ahead at the man on the ground. Gunnolf was a welcome sight. Tears filled her eyes when she saw him well, her nerves on edge, her body shaking from the ordeal. He only slowed down when he saw the dead man on the beach, then looked up at the woods, searching for signs of her.
“Gunnolf,” she said, her voice whispered, tear-laden, thanking God he had survived.
He joined her, leapt down from his horse, and pulled her from her horse and into his arms. “Lass, I feared the other man had spirited you away.”
She hugged Gunnolf lightly as the wolf pup squirmed between them. Gunnolf took the pup and set him down on the ground, then pulled Brina tighter against his hard body. “Are you all right?”
“Aye. He never reached me, but he is the one who shot me. I was afraid you hadna survived.”
“Against only one man?” Gunnolf shook his head, his blue eyes sparkling with jollity. “It would take many more men than that to stop me.”
“It took you long enough to rejoin me.”
He smiled, tilted her chin up, and kissed her.
She melted under his kiss, even though his mouth was warm and sweet on hers, not plundering her like she had seen other men kissing women in the throes of passion. Even so, his kiss kindled a fire deep inside her. As warm as she felt, she believed the snow beneath her feet had to be melting, her body heating as he cupped her face and kissed her further.
Then he pressed his forehead against hers, as if trying to regain his senses.
She’d been kissed before—by lads when she was a younger lass, though if her da had known about it, he would have had them beaten for it. But she’d never been kissed like this. By a man full grown. A kiss full of compassion. Was it because Gunnolf was a Viking? Was he a seducer of women?
“We need to move.” His voice was gruff, not angry, just deeper than she’d heard him speak before.
“What about the men’s bodies?”
“I’ll move them into the woods, bury them in the snow, and we can take their horses with us. Without anyone to care for them, they might not survive. But we need to get going.”
Brina helped him hide the bodies in the snow in the woods, then he lifted her onto her horse, secured the pup in his tunic, mounted his horse, then took the reins of the dead man’s horse.
They continued on their way, knowing that it would be just a matter of time before more of Seamus’s men headed this way, looking for these two men. Hopefully, they wouldn’t find them right away, giving her and Gunnolf a chance to reach the MacNeill lands before that. They spied the other rider-less horse up ahead, and she rode past Gunnolf to take the horse’s reins. They continued on as before, Brina following Gunnolf’s lead. H
e was riding a little faster now, and she suspected he recognized his surroundings, even though the fog continued to cling to the whole area from the ground to the heavens.
Then she saw something in the fog. Something that others could not see. A vision that came to her so vividly she thought she was seeing a ghost that suddenly appeared in the mist and was now whole, but she knew it was not so.
A white haired woman, old, yet youthful looking at the same time, dressed in a brown kirtle and brat appeared before her at the edge of the forest. “You are no’ the one he was sent to help. You know that, lass. You were no’ the one who needed his aid.”
The woman vanished and Brina saw Gunnolf riding ahead of her, pulling the spare horse as before. There was no woman in the mist. Gunnolf had only talked to the seer concerning coming to her aid. Was it the seer who had come to her in a vision, warning her that Gunnolf had helped the wrong woman? Would the other woman be imperiled by his mistake? Brina was afraid it was so. But she couldn’t easily share her visions with others. They either did not believe her, or believed her and were afraid of her.
She couldn’t help but worry about the woman Gunnolf should have aided. Would she die because Brina had sidetracked him?
When they stopped for another break, she asked Gunnolf, “Are we nearly there?”
She hoped so, but was afraid too. She envisioned an angry seer who was furious with Brina for stopping Gunnolf in what he was supposed to do.
“To Wynne’s abode, ja,” Gunnolf said. “We will stop there first, then ride another hour to the keep.”
“What if I am no’ the woman she sent you to fetch?”
His eyes widening, Gunnolf’s expression was one of surprise. “Then I will leave you at the castle and return to seek her out.”
Concerned, Brina folded her arms, trying to make sense of the vision. “No other women were out there. None that we saw, anyway.”
“Ja, which is why I believe you have naught to worry about.” Gunnolf drank from his flask while the puppy played in the snow.
“If I am the wrong woman, you would have to return to where Seamus’s men are searching for me. What if they assumed you were the one who had brought me here?”
“I would be headed in the wrong direction, and you would not be with me. Why would I return to your da’s lands after leaving you at the castle?”
She pondered that for a moment, but then frowned. “Because you have saved the wrong woman.”
“I think not.”
“But what if you have?” she persisted. “If you run across Seamus or his men, what excuse would you give for traveling on my da’s lands?”
“I will think of something. I was turned around and so the direction I take would be different than the one we travelled. Do not worry yourself overmuch. I highly doubt there would be another woman in need of rescuing and that your circumstances did not warrant my help. Are you ready to ride?”
“You should ride one of the men’s horses to rest your own, just in case.” Then she let out her breath. “What if I wasna meant to be here? That I was supposed to be somewhere else?” Brina couldn’t help but fret about it. It annoyed her when she had a vision like this. She was always trying to work out in her mind how to use her gift in the best way possible. Right now, she just felt anxious, like she had put the woman in danger because Gunnolf hadn’t gone to her aid. That maybe she should have stayed with her da, despite his ruling her to go.
“What if the woman is injured or dying because of me?” Brina asked.
Gunnolf took hold of her hand and squeezed it. “I will find her, if such a woman exists. I do not believe this is the case. We will be at Wynne’s shieling shortly.” He helped Brina onto her horse, then paused. “Is there some reason why you seem so concerned over this?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but the pup woofed at something from such a distance, they both turned to see him chasing something much too far away. Gunnolf took off after him. Once he had the pup tucked securely in his tunic, Gunnolf climbed into his saddle, headed out, and didn’t ask the question of her again.
Brina feared for Gunnolf and what would happen when the seer told him he had brought home the wrong woman, and he had to leave again. Would Wynne see something new in her visions? Something truly bad?
Brina prayed it was not so. She still didn’t want him riding onto her da’s lands with the good chance of running into Seamus and his men. She was afraid they’d kill Gunnolf just for being there, no matter the reason he might give.
As soon as she saw the stone shieling, smoke curling from the fireplace, she dreaded seeing the seer and not just in a vision this time.
7
Gunnolf dismounted and raised his hand to knock on Wynne’s door, knowing she would be pleased to see him and overjoyed to realize he had done as she had envisioned.
Before Gunnolf had the chance to knock on the door, Wynne yanked it open. “No, no, no.” Wynne glanced in Brina’s direction and frowned. “She isna the one, Gunnolf. You must head south again and search for the woman who needs your aid. ‘Twas a simple task.”
“She was in need of help.” Gunnolf pulled the squirming puppy from his tunic and held him against his chest for a moment, not sure how Wynne would react to the wolf. “I will take the lass to Craigly Castle then and—“
“Nay, she is my granddaughter. You will leave her here with me. But aye, you must aid the woman in need.”
“Grandmother?” Brina’s eyes rounded and her lips parted in shock. “You know my name also? Brina?”
Gunnolf couldn’t have been more surprised to learn of this. He couldn’t believe Wynne could be correct about this.
“Aye, you knew this would come to pass. Not that this menacing Norseman would come for you, mayhap because he wasna supposed to. Or that the woman you saw in the woods was me, your grandmother. But you knew you would return to your mother’s people. Give a man a task a woman should have completed and...” Wynne sighed.
“Gunnolf brought me here safely,” Brina insisted, as he set the pup down on the ground and helped Brina off her horse. “Who is the other woman?” Brina asked while Gunnolf gave his horse oats before he left again.
Wynne waved her hand at her dismissively. “I know not. Only that you are no’ the one Gunnolf was to have aided.”
“How do you know this if you havena seen her in a vision?” Brina sounded perturbed.
Gunnolf was about to ask the very same question of Wynne.
“I dinna see her face, only that she isna wearing the same brown cloak as you. Hers is gray.”
As far as Gunnolf was concerned, Brina had needed help getting here. She could not have traveled that distance on foot without Seamus or his men catching up to her or freezing to death.
“Mayhap I should leave then.” Brina still sounded irked.
“Nay, you belong here with me. And I am grateful that Gunnolf brought you to me, but you must go now, Gunnolf.” Then Wynne frowned at the wolf pup. “Where do you think Beowulf will be staying?”
Gunnolf wondered if Wynne had come up with her own name for the wolf or had some insight into what it should be. Being that Beowulf was a Nordic legendary hero, Gunnolf approved of the name.
“He will stay with Brina. One day, he can be her protector.” He handed the pup to Brina. “Take care of Brina,” he said to Wynne. Then he turned his attention to Brina. “Before long, I will come back to see how you are faring.”
“Thank you for bringing me here safely.” Brina took a step toward him and kissed him on the cheek, but it didn’t seem enough after all they had been through.
She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, and he embraced her warmly back, kissing her lips gently, but only because he knew Wynne was watching and Brina was her granddaughter. Otherwise the need roared through him to press his lips against hers much more passionately, hold her for longer, and breathe in her sweet scent to carry with him on the journey. He realized he had never taken his leave from a woman that he had wanted to warmly emb
race or kiss before he parted company with her. Nor would he already be thinking about returning to see how she fared.
“Take care with the woman you were meant to aid. She will not be grateful,” Brina warned.
A chill swept up his spine, his gaze swinging to Wynne.
Wynne had her hand on his shoulder, pushing him toward the door as if she feared he’d take more of an advantage of her granddaughter. “I told you the woman wouldna.” She gave her granddaughter an annoyed look. “This one is much too grateful.” Yet he knew Wynne didn’t mean it with the way her eyes glinted with a bit of dark humor.
Gunnolf glanced back at Brina, knowing Wynne would take care of her, yet he felt disquieted that she might be just like Wynne. Why did Brina not tell him she knew this would come to pass? Yet he thought she had tried to warn him earlier. Had she had a vision then? It seemed to him from what Brina had said at the last, she had only known about it right before they arrived at Wynne’s shieling. It didn’t really matter though. Even if she’d had a vision of this earlier, he would not have risked allowing her to make her way here on her own alone.
How was he supposed to find the right woman now, if he’d found the wrong one the first time? If she was in dire straits, would he be too late now?
He had seen no one while he’d been traveling due south, but Brina. Then again, he had gotten lost and when he had returned to Wynne’s dwelling, he had travelled northwest to reach her place. Without the snowstorm to hamper his direction, he would be able to head directly south.
“Someone will have to take care of the horses until one of James’s men can move them to the stables,” Gunnolf said.
Wynne was shaking her head. “You brought me a byre full of horses, a wolf, and didna aid the right lass.”
Gunnolf smiled, winked at Brina, hoping she would be all right with her grandmother—he was still shocked over that—then mounted his own horse, and headed out again, praying he would find the other lass quickly.