Magnar (The Wolves of Clan Sutherland Book 1)

by Mary Morgan

  “Loki’s balls, nae! ’Tis not possible!”

  Remorse filled Magnar once again, and he turned away from the man. “In truth, bitter words were spoken between my mother and me—ones that will haunt me for the rest of my days. I never made peace with her. Upon my return, the Seer presented me with a letter from my mother.”

  “What are you planning?” Rorik’s question was laced with concern and fear. The emotions rolled off him in waves—slamming into Magnar. His inner wolf gave a low growl.

  “With consent from our king, I will search for my brother. I must make amends to our family. He is my kin.”

  Rorik paced in front of him. “’Tis dangerous to seek out the man. Two cannot be in the same house.”

  Slamming his fist into his palm, Magnar argued, “Then let us begin a new law within the guards. He was forsaken by an ancient creed. Even the Seer did not predict this birth. I ken it was destined by the Gods as a new beginning.”

  “’Tis a curse,” spouted Rorik. “Between good and evil. You cannot be certain your brother does not wield the dark magic. To pursue this path and find him might result in death for all of us.”

  “Nae!” shouted Magnar, his words echoing along with the roar of the ocean. “Hear my words, Rorik, from the house of MacNeil, you will not interfere with my decision to bring my brother home. He belongs with the brotherhood. In the letter from my mother, he abandoned the family that raised him and fled with Northmen traders.”

  Rorik’s face was tight with strain when he spoke. “Have you not considered what the man wants? Will you drag him into the brotherhood, snarling and snapping at your heels? Order him to become the lesser? Bind him with our laws and force him to obey a king he may not be loyal to?”

  Magnar shrugged. There was a truth to his friend’s words, but he remained steadfast in his belief to unite his brother with the other wolves. “Nevertheless, he is a wolf. I have to take into account his training and what his foster family has shared with him. We do not survive alone, Rorik. You ken this well. This is why I must search for him. Besides, King William will welcome another guard. Is he not spouting that there are not enough of the elite guards to do his bidding?”

  Rorik scratched the back of his neck. Bending, he retrieved the ale skin. After guzzling deeply, he handed it to Magnar. “What does the Seer advise?”

  Refusing the drink, Magnar moved away from the tree. “What the Seer does best. Give you puzzle pieces to sort out. I can share she was shocked to learn the knowledge there was another wolf born into the House of Alpin. In truth, the previous Seer chose not to share this knowledge with Ragna before she died.”

  Rorik stepped near him. “How many days are you planning on staying here?”

  “Nae more than two.” Magnar inhaled sharply.

  His friend gave a weak smile. “Come back into the village. Perchance there is a comely lass to entice you and warm your bed on this night.”

  “Tempting as that may sound, the land beckons me.”

  Rorik shook his head slowly and walked away. “You mean the wolf calls to you. Forgive me for saying this, but you are becoming a monk, my friend.”

  He snarled. “I do not follow the monks’ beliefs. And I did not ken you were watching my carnal pleasures with such a keen eye.”

  Rorik glanced sharply at him. “You ken well my meaning. I will say nae more.”

  Magnar watched as the man gathered the remainder of the food items and shoved them into the pouch. “I shall meet you at the shore in two days. If my plans change, I will send a message.”

  Rorik waved at him over his shoulder and disappeared into the darkness.

  Returning his attention to the sea, Magnar scratched at two days’ growth of beard. Though the temptation to sink his cock between the soft folds of a woman was a heady desire, he could ill afford to spend time slaking his pleasures. Other pressing matters required his attention.

  After stripping free of all his clothing, he inhaled slowly, allowing the magic to build within his body. The waves of the ocean echoed all around him as power flooded his veins. On the exhale, he shifted in a shimmer of gray lights and transformed into the wolf.

  Shaking off the lingering energy, he swiftly glanced in all directions.

  Gifted with agile speed since birth, Magnar took off running over the hills. The moist, musty scent of the earth filled his nostrils, urging him onward. Past his home, past the village, and upward toward the crest of the large hill by the ocean. Time no longer existed. Only the elements surrounding him.

  The man became the wolf—a freedom both relished.

  Small animals quickly dodged out of his path, most likely in fear of becoming his next meal. But the wolf cared nothing about them. Traversing over the rocky incline, he steadily moved quietly toward his destination.

  The moss-covered stone structure loomed in the moonlight. The wolf padded toward the entrance. Sniffing cautiously, he hesitated before ducking low and entering the enclosure. Once inside, the wolf went to the back where the bones of many eagles lay scattered in a crescent form.

  Stretching out his front paws, the wolf became the man.

  With a shudder, Magnar scooted against the cold stone wall and brought his knees to his chest. Closing his eyes, he whispered the words of magic to the Gods of Norse and Pict to show him the path to where his brother now resided.

  Chapter Three

  Thurso, Scotland ~ Castle Steinn

  Smoke filled Elspeth’s vision as she tried to ease into a better position within the stables. The fires continued to ravage the outer bailey, leaving her with no clear path to flee. The stench of dead bodies coated the back of her throat, and she cupped a hand over her mouth to keep from heaving what little she had in her stomach onto the ground. Fear cloaked her as surely as the haze surrounding her.

  A tiny hand tugged on her cloak, reminding Elspeth to temper her emotions. She bent down and placed a finger over her nephew’s lips. “You must be silent, Erik,” she whispered.

  The lad frowned. “Like my friend?” He patted the pouch secured on a belt at his waist.

  Giving him a weak smile, she nodded. “Aye, like Sir Mouse.”

  He lifted his chin and returned a smile of his own.

  Standing, Elspeth quickly scanned the entrance again and deemed their only hope of staying alive meant they had to flee on foot. None of their horses were inside, and she had nae time to dwell on what happened to them. To remain within the castle walls with the enemy would bring death to her nephew—the new chieftain of Steinn Castle.

  Wrapping an arm around Erik, she fought the wave of pain burrowing into her chest from witnessing her brother, Thomas’ death at the hands of one of the Northmen invaders. Only two days prior, he’d opened the gates, giving them a warm welcome. They came to discuss plans of trading. However, war against the King of Scotland was their true strategy, and they wanted Thomas to ride with them. When he argued against this traitorous idea, his life became forfeit.

  A scream ripped through the air, snapping Elspeth out of her thoughts. They could not stay hidden forever. Their home was under attack and being pillaged. She needed to get Erik to safety.

  Crouching down beside the lad, she whispered, “We need to leave now. There are nae horses. Not one word shall pass from your lips until I give the order. Do you ken my meaning?”

  “Did I not keep my tongue silent when we passed Robbie’s dead body?”

  She sighed. “Aye. But we may encounter more of the dead, and we have lost our guard.”

  “I am not a baby,” he protested, stomping his foot.

  Elspeth stood slowly. “I will hold you to your word.” She held her hand outward.

  When he grasped it firmly, he responded, “As the future chieftain, ’tis important.”

  You are now my chieftain, Erik Gunn.

  Quickly settling her jumbled nerves, Elspeth moved them along to the entrance. Unable to see anything or anyone clearly, she feared she was leading them into danger.

  Erik
tugged on her hand.

  “For the love of Mother Mary,” she bit out under her breath.

  Her nephew pointed to the back of the stables. “I ken another way out.”

  Hope flared like the dawn of a new day. She nodded and gestured him back inside, allowing him to take the lead. When he entered one of the stalls, Elspeth wanted to protest. She watched in stunned silence as Erik removed one of the boards at the back of the stall. His small fingers deftly slid another board to the side. Though the opening was small, she judged they both could fit.

  Elspeth went to her nephew’s side. “Where does this lead, Erik?”

  “Away from the bailey and to the kitchen gardens.”

  She narrowed her eyes in thought. “But we shall be trapped behind the wall.”

  Erik snorted. “Nae.”

  Before she could counter his response, shouting and curses flew near the entrance to the stables. Time was now their enemy.

  Elspeth tugged on her nephew’s arm and gestured him through the narrow space. The steps of an approaching man spurred her into action, and she followed Erik. Her leg scraped on the rough wood, and she bit her tongue to hold back the curse. There was no time to cover their escape, and Elspeth said a silent plea that God would see them safely away.

  Quickly standing, she withdrew her dirk and took off down the small path. Fear kept her focused on following her nephew. If the enemy came upon them fleeing, Elspeth would do all in her power to fend them off until Erik managed to get away.

  A bird flew out from a nearby bush, and she almost let out a scream. Wisps of smoke curled around them reminding her of eagle’s talons, and she fought the growing fear of being captured. Her steps slowed as they approached the kitchen gardens. Erik darted past the main entrance. Concern filled her as she moved past the apple trees. “You must be daft, Erik. You are leading us into a corner,” she muttered with impatience.

  When she came upon him, the lad was pointing upward.

  “Sadly, we cannot climb over the wall.” Her tone was resigned, and her shoulders slumped.

  He gave her a look of disgust and ducked around the corner of the trees. Swiftly returning, he dragged forth a ladder.

  Her eyes grew wide. “Sweet Mother Mary and all the saints,” she whispered. “Now I ken where you go to in the early morn. You have been warned before for leaving the outer walls.” She clicked her tongue softly, but a smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. “But how can we get down?”

  Erik pointed to the tree. “This way,” he uttered softly.

  After casting a glance over her shoulder, Elspeth secured her dirk within the belt at her waist and helped Erik position the ladder against the stone wall. “Check in all directions before you go over the wall, aye?”

  He nodded, his eyes gleaming brightly.

  Squeezing his shoulder, Elspeth gently prodded him to proceed up the ladder. As she held her breath, she waited for him to cast his sight in all directions. And in a blink of an eye, her nephew slipped over the wall.

  Exhaling slowly, she brushed a hand over her brow and swiftly ascended the ladder. When she reached the top, Elspeth spotted the lad already standing by the base of the pine tree. As she straddled the wall, she did her best to shove the ladder away from view and onto the garden floor behind the trees.

  Her heart beat rapidly with the hope of freedom as she grasped the tree branch and started her descent. Her gown snagged on one of the branches and she uttered a soft curse. Cautiously, she continued to make her way down.

  With the ground firmly under her feet, she reached for Erik and embraced the lad in a hug. “Thank you.”

  He squirmed in her arms. “You are pleased?”

  Releasing him, she smiled. “Aye. But we are not out of danger yet.”

  “Where are we going?” he asked quietly.

  Unsure, Elspeth responded, “South.”

  The lad frowned. “If we go north, we can find friends to aid us. Father will need more men.”

  Sorrow filled Elspeth. Now was not the time to disclose to her nephew that the enemy traveled with two of their allies from the north and that his father was dead. South was their only recourse.

  Turning back toward the wall, Elspeth bent and brushed away the moss and dirt from near the bottom. Swiftly removing a sgian dubh from her boot, she prodded a section of the wall free. She retrieved a small stone and stood. After securing her small blade, she sighed heavily.

  Elspeth took hold of her nephew’s hand. As she placed the stone in his palm, she said, “Wherever you go, Erik, you take a part of your home with you. Never forget what happened here today. ’Tis important.”

  He frowned, tilting his head to the side. “But—”

  She closed his fingers over the precious piece of their land. “Nae more questions until we are far away from here. You must put your trust in me, Erik.”

  He nodded and placed the stone in the pouch secured at his side.

  Elspeth cast her sight one more time at their home. She prayed the others within the castle had fled from the destruction imposed by the enemy. Aye, King William will hear of this injustice, and we shall return to claim what is ours—yours, Erik.

  Returning her gaze to her nephew, she reached for his hand and started forward.

  ****

  “Are you sure we are heading south, Aunt Elspeth?” inquired the lad for the fifth time in the last several hours.

  Trying to maintain her patience, she replied, “Aye.” She pointed upward where the sun shone brightly. “Did you not learn how to follow the movement of the sun’s progress across the sky?”

  “Aye, aye. I still do not ken why we have to travel so far,” he protested, rubbing a hand over his stomach.

  Elspeth realized they had not eaten since the morning meal yesterday. The madness began before the evening meal. When her brother had pulled her aside at the entrance to the great hall, his features were strained. Thomas instructed her to fetch Erik and leave with one of his guards. He feared his guests were not who they portrayed themselves to be and considered them to be dishonorable thieves.

  She shoved what happened next out of her thoughts.

  Scanning their surroundings, she heard the soft bubbling of water. If anything, they could refill their water skins. She pushed aside heavy tree limbs, hoping to get a better view. The sound appeared to be on their right. She judged the path to slope downward, and turned toward Erik. “Are you thirsty?”

  “Nae.” He wiped a hand over his nose and bent his head.

  “We need to take advantage of refilling our water skins, aye?”

  When he kept silent, Elspeth tugged on his arm. “Where is my brave warrior?”

  His head snapped up. “You meant me?”

  She waved her hand about. “Do you see another warrior standing with us?”

  He visibly swallowed. “Nae. Only me.”

  Smiling, she nodded. “Correct. Warriors on a quest do not behave in a sullen matter, especially when they are hungry—”

  The lad placed his hands on his hips. “Did I say anything about food?”

  Elspeth fought to keep her mirth hidden. “In truth, you did not. Your countenance speaks another message, though.”

  Glancing around, he asked, “Where is this water?”

  She tapped a finger to her mouth. “Why don’t you show me? Your first quest, Warrior Erik.”

  Her nephew puffed out his chest and scampered away.

  Following after him, she spied a thick blackberry bush, ripe with berries. “Thank you, God,” she murmured.

  She pondered if she should shout her glee at finding some food or let her nephew search for the bounty. Shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun, she observed his small body already refilling his water skin.

  Waiting patiently against an aging oak tree, she tried to ease the tension in her back. Upon his return, Elspeth handed him her water skin.

  “The Gods have provided food for us, too,” he announced in a cheerful tone.

  “Gods?”<
br />
  “Aye. Odin and Dagda.” He pointed behind her. “Blackberries.”

  Elspeth did her best to temper her anger over his choice of words. It had been a constant battle between herself and her brother. This clash over beliefs and the new religion often left them spewing harsh words at each other. Indeed, her nephew continued to defy her request not to mention the old Gods. In truth, now was not the time to debate his choice of religion.

  She dipped her head at him. “Your eyesight is keen, my warrior.”

  Smiling broadly, he dashed back to the stream. After refilling her water skin, he returned to her side.

  “Let us consume the food God has graciously provided,” suggested Elspeth.

  Coming upon the bush laden with fruit, Elspeth went and sat on a fallen log. She motioned for Erik to pluck some of the berries. Unfastening her cloak, she removed the garment. The day was warm, and she offered another silent prayer that their journey would not be fraught with any foul weather.

  Erik returned and dropped a portion of the ripe fruit into her lap and joined her on the log. Each enjoyed a respite while they ate their small meal. A rabbit skittered about in the dry leaves seemingly unfazed by their presence, and they both watched its progress through the forest floor.

  “I miss Hilda’s stew,” uttered the lad quietly.

  She popped the last blackberry into her mouth. “Aye. The cook did have a way of preparing a fine rabbit stew with cabbage.”

  He glanced at her sideways. “But I am not hungry enough to take my blade to our friend, the rabbit.”

  Elspeth chuckled softly. “You are a compassionate warrior, Erik.”

  Snorting, he finished the rest of his blackberries. “I might not be tomorrow.”

  As the tension eased somewhat from Elspeth’s shoulders, she realized the time had come to speak with Erik about his father. After taking a sip of water, she placed the water skin on the ground. Brushing her hands over the folds in her gown, she turned toward him.

  “I need to share some knowledge with you, Erik. It will not be pleasant to hear, but I ken you are a strong lad—”