by Fabio
How could she continue to feel such traitorous yearnings for her enemy? If she could not trust her own body, her own instincts, what could she trust? The hated Wolfgard and his clan had deserted her—she could depend only on herself now.
She must escape the Viking—or kill him—before this mysterious frailty he stirred in her brought her to ruin ...
EIGHTEEN
.Father, Reyna is gone! I have searched throughout the village, and she is nowhere to be found! Her pony is still in the stable, and I fear she is lost to us! Sibeal is missing as well!"
Wolfgard was seated on the floor, eating his porridge, when Ragar burst into the dining hall, his face stricken with anxiety.
Wolfgard snorted, not bothering to wipe the gruel dribbling down his whiskered chin. "Your half sister is missing, you say?"
"Yea."
"I already suspected as much myself. It appears Viktor the Valiant has made good his promise and has taken the Ravisher off with him."
Ragar's jaw dropped. "How can this be? How could Viktor have come into our village undetected?"
Wolfgard shrugged. "I stationed the usual sentries—three at the wharf and two outside the village."
"The usual sentries?" Ragar repeated, appearing aghast as he stepped forward. "But, Father, how could you not have doubled the watch, knowing of Viktor's treacherous plans?"
Wolfgard slammed down the tankard of whey he had been sipping. "Do not presume to tell me how to protect my own village, my son—especially when you are unprepared to see to the task yourself!"
Ragar lowered his gaze. "I realize I am not the warrior you wanted my father. Yet, under these circumstances, simple logic would seem to dictate—n
"Get ye out of here—and your logic with ye!" Wolfgard cut in nastily. "Verily, I am relieved to have the Valkyrie out of my hair for a time. Yea, I shall relish this respite. I predict that soon enough, Viktor the Valiant will send her packing, once he tires of her waspish ways."
"But you cannot mean to leave Reyna there, at the mercy of our enemy?" Ragar exclaimed.
Wolfgard laughed derisively. "Mark my words, my son. 'Us our enemy who will need mercy ere long."
Ragar drew himself up with pride. "If you are determined to abandon my sister, I cannot stay you. But I shall lead a rescue mission in your stead."
Wolfgard surged to his feet, sending his dishes flying and scowling ferociously at the boy. "You go on a fool's errand. We have no ship."
"Verily, why?" Ragar demanded.
Wolfgard had the grace to appear embarrassed as he coughed and glanced away. "Egil informed me he found the drakar missing at dawn, and the sentries bound and gagged at the wharf. According to the guards, Viktor and his kinsmen overwhelmed them last night and later set our ship adrift in the fjord."
Ragar threw up his hands. "So there again, you left us all but unprotected."
"The deed is done," Wolfgard growled. "And it may be months before a new war vessel can be readied."
"Then I will mount a campaign on land."
"On land?" Wolfgard scoffed. "Do you not realize that with the spring thaw and seasonal rains, there will be no crossing the fjord now? You will be impelled to travel high into the mountains and circle the river's head."
WI am prepared to do so."
Wolfgard's craggy features twisted in utter disbelief. "You are willing to risk the vengeance of Surt—or to drown in a bog of boiling mud?"
"I will do whatever is necessary to rescue my sister."
Wolfgard stepped toward the boy, his battle-scarred face for once mirroring genuine concern. "Son, 'tis true you are not all that I had hoped for. Yet you are my sole issue. You are no warrior. Do not risk your life for this ungrateful wench.'
"The 'ungrateful wench is my sister, Father," Ragar answered with quiet determination. "I have no choice but to stand up for her. Tis a matter of honor now."
"Bah!" Wolfgard waved him off. "There is no honor in rescuing a female,"
Ragar spoke through gritted teeth. I will do no less for my own blood." He turned and left the chamber amid Wolfgard's guttural curses.
Wolfgard paced the room, frowning savagely and making frustrated sounds under his breath. When he had allowed Viktor to take the cursed Reyna with ease, he had not figured on the boy's reaction. Now his son was making a fool of himself. Yet if Ragar was determined to embark on this doomed mission, Wolfgard could not stay him, or else make the lad look like even more of a milksop to his men.
A pox on the Valkyrie, Reyna! The chit had brought him naught but grief! He should have abandoned her back in Loire. The only satisfaction he had was the thought of the retribution Reyna would wreak, in such generous measure, on his enemy, Viktor the Valiant
Wolfgard grinned with sadistic pleasure at the thought Verily, he could not wait to hear the first report from his spy in the enemy village.
Outside, Ragar sought out his retainer, Haraid. He found his friend on the tundra, practicing archery, with a dwarf willow serving as target
"My kinsman, I must speak with you," Ragar greeted him.
Releasing an arrow—which smartly met its mark—Haraid turned to Ragar. "You are worried about Reyna?"
"Yea." Ragar scowled. "You have already heard of her abduction?"
Haraid pulled an arrow from its quiver. "After breaking our fast, Cuellar and I discovered the village sentries, Rolfe and Thorald, bound up and hidden behind the haystack. They informed us of Viktor's raid last night"
"And you did not so advise me at once?" Ragar asked indignantly.
"I made the attempt, but by then you had already left your chamber."
Ragar nodded morosely. "Yea, I was searching for my sister. My father seems unconcerned over her plight. I need your help to organize a rescue party."
Harald considered this for a moment, then said, "My friend, I understand your fear and suffering over Reyna's kidnapping. But Odin knows we would be fools to pursue this madness."
"Why?"
Harald moved closer and spoke with regret. "By now most of the village is aware of your half sister's fate. No one mourns her loss—and all will be reluctant to join our cause."
'Then I must speak my mind to them all!" Ragar retorted.
"You know I would lay down my life for you or Reyna," Harald continued earnestly. "But I am also sworn to protect you. How can I allow you to embark on a mission that will surely mean your death—and mayhap Reyna's as well?"
"We must try. I am not afraid."
Harald sighed. "My friend, we have no way to rescue her. Our ship is lost—"
"Yea, I am aware. We will have to proceed overland, and circle the head of the fjord."
Harald lifted a brow in amazement. "You are saying we will journey high into the mountains and surely rouse the anger of Surt?"
"Should we allow fear to stay us, as if we are all women and not warriors?" Ragar argued passionately.
Harald shook his head with sadness. "My friend, I must speak my heart. Our warriors fear the ghosts and trolls that lurk in the moors. They will not be eager to join this cause."
"I will proceed my own self, if need be," said Ragar.
Harald expelled a heavy, resigned breath. "Verily, I am with you, then, I will try to raise a small band of warriors, but you must give me time. 'Twill not be easy convincing our men to risk their lives for a woman who has naught but insulted them."
"This I know," said Ragar grimly. "But do not delay raising our forces-—else I shall be about the mission alone."
Viktor stood in front of the barred door to Reyna's small prison. A day had passed, and he dearly hoped time had eased the Valkyrie's violent temper. But, in fairness to Sibeal, who would soon arrive with the girl's breakfast, he would test the waters first himself, to see if her fiery disposition had cooled, or remained boiling hot—
He removed the bolt and slanted open the door. Sunshine spilled across the dirt floor—
She was gone!
He stepped inside. "Reyna?"
A split se
cond later, she landed full against his back, the shock of her taut body almost knocking the wind from him. He realized too late that she had lain in wait for him behind the panel. Her knees locked at his waist, she howled the scream of a banshee and began beating on his head with her fists—
Mercy, she was behaving like a madwoman! Staggering beneath her vigorous blows, Viktor managed to reach up and grab her wrists. Stumbling across the room while still struggling with her, he finally yanked her off him and flung her back onto her pallet—
She stared up at him, appearing momentarily stunned. Good Lord, Viktor thought, she even looked like a madwoman with her hair tangled wildly around her, her eyes bright and fierce, her face and shift smeared with dirt.
Then her features clenched with rage and she charged him again!
This time Viktor was fully prepared—and damn angry to boot! With one strong arm he grabbed Reyna around her waist and bore her, screaming and kicking, back to the pallet. She landed with a thud and flipped over, as lithe and feral as a pugnacious cat.
He crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her. "Shall we try for round three today?" he asked calmly.
She was silent, staring at him with caution mingled with hatred.
"My, but you are in a raging temper this morning,' he muttered, rubbing the back of his head, which throbbed from her punches.
She smiled with malicious pleasure.
That smirk invited retaliation. "Tell me, does this little demonstration of your esteem for me arise out of my kissing you yesterday?"
With a howl of rage she was up again, this time making a dive for his knees! Realizing the little termagant sought to trip him and bring him down, Viktor sidestepped the lunge, caught Reyna low at the waist, flipping her in the process, and straightened with her dangling upside down against his side, her arms and legs flailing wildly and her shift lifted to the tops of her delectable buttocks.
Viktor could not help himself. With his free hand he smartly whacked that adorable, squirming behind—
She froze, and he glanced downward, grinning as he caught a glimpse of her red, mortified face. "That's better," he murmured.
She began wiggling again in earnest. He whacked her once more, and making a sound of repressed rage, she again stilled her struggles. He crossed the room and unceremoniously dumped her on her belly. The action sent her shift hiking up over her curvaceous bottom, and Viktor greedily caught a glimpse—
Then she was yanking down her nightdress, her face as red as a tomato. Viktor was sorely tempted to laugh, but managed to restrain the rash impulse, knowing that to do so would only provoke another ferocious outburst.
"You know, Reyna, you are being most difficult," he scolded.
"Then send me back to my people!"
"Ah, so the she-troll has a voice after all?" he mocked.
She glared at him.
"And now Wolfgard and his company are your people?" he continued with an air of amazement. 'That certainly comes as a shock to me."
"Why do you not let me go, Viking?" she demanded furiously. "You know we despise each other, you and I."
"Do we?" he inquired mildly. "Well, I must admit you are certainly inviting my contempt at the moment. But it won't work, Reyna. I am still going to marry you." Looking her over slowly, he chuckled. 'Though frankly, you don't make a very appealing bride at the moment—your hair is as charming as seaweed; and you are filthy from head to toe."
"Because you have kept me like a animal!" she blazed.
"Nevertheless, you are quite a sight." He lounged against the doorway and winked at her. "So I think I shall not kiss you today, much as I know you'll be disappointed."
"Disappointed?" she screamed. "I would just as soon kiss an asp!"
'That hardly seemed your attitude yesterday."
"Only because you overwhelmed me with brute strength!"
"I'm pleased to hear you acknowledge that I do have that ability," he drawled.
"Rot in Hel!"
He sighed, growing weary of her unmitigated scorn. "You have only to act more reasonable, Reyna, and I will give you more freedom—"
"Freedom to become your wife?" she scoffed.
"Yea." He grinned. "But we might start with freedom to leave this cozy little jail, to take a bath ..." He looked her over again and raised an eyebrow. "Which you do sorely need, my dear."
"Take your freedom—and your bath—and choke on both, Viking."
He shook his head. "Reyna, you are your own worst enemy. And you will stay locked up here, like die spoiled brat you are, until you learn to be reasonable."
"Never!"
"Never?' he repeated, his voice rising slightly. He strode closer to her and spoke with low menace. "You know, Reyna, the only time I have seen you display the least respect for me was when I whacked your pretty behind. A few more demonstrations of this defiance, and be warned—I am prepared to blister it thoroughly."
"A plague take you, filthy whoreson!" she screamed.
"And to hell with you."
His patience exhausted, Viktor left, slamming and barring the door. He strode off, grinding his jaw and mumbling to himself, not even acknowledging Sibeal and Svein as they passed, the slave bearing Reyna's meal. Had he truly bitten off more than he could chew with the hellion Reyna? Her hatred for him seemed unremitting and absolute. Worse yet, she was capable of provoking him to a level of anger that frightened him—and to a degree of lust that was every bit as staggering. Had the woman no fear at all, no regard for her own safety? For now, he could only hope she would mend her ways and become more biddable before he strangled her! Provoking the primitive man in him as she so skillfully did, she often made him forget he had ever been a gentleman ...
Inside the hut, Reyna thought about the confrontation with Viktor and trembled in anger and mortification. Why did the hated Viking have to remind her of her body's betrayal? Even as they had struggled, she had felt those appalling stirrings again, especially when his hand had smacked her bottom like a stamp of ownership, when his burning gaze had raked so hungrily over her bare thighs and the exposed tops of her buttocks. How could she feel such cravings for a man she so hated?
Suddenly Reyna's thoughts scattered as the door again opened. She tensed, presuming Viktor had returned, then glowered at Sibeal, who stood at the portal with a tray of food. Behind the thrall loomed one of Viktor's kinsmen.
Reyna continued to glare murder at the woman. Sibeal, undaunted, crossed over with her tray and knelt, setting the repast down beside Reyna.
"Milady, you must take some nourishment," she said worriedly.
"Do not dare to speak to me, traitor!" Reyna hissed. "You could have saved me two nights past, yet you let my enemy take me!"
Sibeal's expression mirrored turmoil and compassion. "Milady, I allowed Viktor to take you because I truly believe your destiny lies with him."
"Do not try to sway me with such foolish prattle, woman," Reyna argued furiously. " "Tis no excuse for your perfidy!"
"Milady, I beseech you, be more reasonable," Sibeal pleaded. "By rebelling against your fate, you are only aggravating your own misery—"
" 'Tis you who have magnified my misery through your betrayal!" Reyna raged. "Now leave me before I strangle the life from you!"
Releasing a frustrated sigh, Sibeal rose and left.
Afterward, Reyna glared at the food. How had Sibeal dared implore to her to be more reasonable! How had Viktor dared to insist on the same, as if everyone had forgotten that she was the one who had been cruelly snatched from her bed and taken captive by her enemy! Spitefully she decided to leave her breakfast untouched, thereby demonstrating her utter contempt for Sibeal, Viktor, and all of his people.
Verily, she would starve herself rather than submit to his will
For the next few days Viktor tried again and again to reach Reyna. He stood in the doorway of the hut and talked with her calmly, at length, about what it would be like when they were man and wife. She glowered, hissed deprecations, and
hurled dishes at him. At times when she so maddened him, he knew he made some of his comments more to taunt her than to coax her cooperation.
"You may hiss like a tigress now, Reyna," he said one morning, "but you will purr like a kitten when we are man and wife,"
She hurled a handful of dirt at him.
"We will have beautiful children together," he told her the next afternoon.
She spit at his feet.
"You will cease being stubborn as a donkey, Reyna, or I will yoke you to a plow to teach you some respect!" he raved the following day.
She bared her teeth and actually growled at him.
Viktor soon dismally concluded that there was no getting through to the obstreperous wench. Within a few days he was in such a foul temper that he could not trust himself around the girl. Because Sibeal fretted continuously that Reyna did not eat or drink enough, Viktor sent his kinsmen with the thrall to take trays to the girl twice daily. He did caution the warriors that he would allow no mistreatment of her, no matter how badly she provoked them.
His retainers fared no better than he had with the waspish Valkyrie. One evening Rollo barged into Viktor's chamber in a terrible temper, his face streaked with mutton stew and a bruise already forming on his forehead.
'The girl threw her victuals at me, jarl” he declared angrily. "And she called me a fleabrain! I will eat my own sword before I attend the witch again."
"Very well. I thank you for trying," said Viktor. "Next time I will send Orm."
Orm confronted Viktor soon after breakfast the following morning. He was sporting a bad limp, a very red face, and his fists were clenched in fury. "The Valkyrie kicked me in the groin and called me a swine! Let me slay her, jarl. "
Viktor groaned. "Go soak your wounds in the bathhouse. Next time I will let Canute deal with her."
That night Canute charged into the dining chamber in a roaring temper. Never before had Viktor seen his mightiest warrior actually trembling in fury. That she-troll called me a shrivel prick!" he roared slamming his fist down on Viktor's table. "She horribly insulted my manhood! Let me take her to the tundra and slit her throat! I would sacrifice her to Suit, but the volcano would gag on her loathsome entrails and spit her up!"