She was up at first light. The fire had burnt out, and she chewed mouthfuls of jerky while she loaded the pony. The path east was broad and clear, and she thanked Freya for seeing her safely through this first leg of the journey. She set off on the trail, grateful for having survived thus far and wondering what this day, and especially the evening, would bring. Tonight, she would face her uncle’s debtor. She would deliver the jarl his due. And if the gods saw fit, she would win her lover’s freedom.
* * * *
By the time the sun was directly overhead, Kadlin smelled the salt in the air. The trees to her left grew sparser. An hour later, the earth to the north dropped away to a low, sheer cliff, and she heard the waves breaking on the shore. The trail dipped up and down along the coastline until she traveled at the level of the sea. The water was a cold gray and seemed to go on to the end of the world. It was not yet sunset when she saw the first sod house ahead. Cattle were penned in neat corrals and rows of fish hung drying on tall racks.
As she rode, the houses came closer together. The belly of the sun was just touching the horizon when she led her pony into the little village. The buildings were in neat rows along wide roads that radiated out from a huge stone well. Children chased one another between the homes, and it took Kadlin a moment to realize that there were no adults outside.
A group of boys caught sight of her and threw down the sticks they’d been using for make-believe swords. They ran up to her, and she stopped her pony.
A tall boy with long, light brown hair was the first to speak. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“I am Kadlin. Who are you?”
“I am Ulf, son of Gunnar.”
“Ah, Ulf, ‘the wolf’. A strong name for a strong Viking.”
The boy puffed out his chest. “What do you want?”
Kadlin bit back a smile. It was obvious that this boy had been put in charge, and he was taking his job very seriously. “I am looking for the jarl.”
“Are ye friend or foe?” he asked, squinting up at her.
“I’m friend. But if I were foe, I probably wouldn’t tell you, now would I?”
The other boys laughed and jostled their leader. “Shut up, ye sons of whores!” he thundered and shoved the nearest boy into the dirt.
He squinted back at Kadlin. “What’s your business with the jarl?”
“I come bearing gifts. He’s expecting me.”
The boy looked her up and down. “You’re a pretty one. What kind of gifts could you have for the jarl?”
“It is a secret. If I spoke it aloud, I would ruin the surprise, and the jarl would be very disappointed.”
The boy crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s busy.”
“Busy with what?”
“They’re celebrating the voyage.”
Kadlin’s stomach knotted, and the threat of tears pricked at her eyes. “They’ve sailed then?”
Ulf rolled his eyes. “No, you daft woman, they’ve not sailed yet! They leave in the morning. They’re celebrating tonight.”
Kadlin huffed out a breath of relief. It was quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread at the task before her. “Good. Where will I find him?”
Ulf set his fists on his hips and glared up at her. The boy who’d been shoved to the ground stood and knocked the dust off of his trousers then pointed down the road. “They’re in the great hall.”
Ulf wheeled around and pushed the boy back down. Kadlin nodded her thanks and clucked the pony forward. She heard music and bawdy laughter and followed the sound to a long, low building. Huge double doors were propped slightly ajar, and the smell of roasting meat tumbled out with the raucous din.
Her heart thundered in her ears when she slid off of her mount. She smoothed her hair and straightened her tunic. She pulled back her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. Gathering the pony’s reins in one hand, she yanked open the door with the other. She stood dumbstruck for a moment, unable to move. The great hall was a riot of sights and sounds. Men and woman danced and groped at each other, and some even rutted half naked in the far corners. Rows of tables lined each side of the room, and at the far end was a dais with an enormous carved chair facing the door.
Kadlin fixed her eyes on the tiny wan man perched on the throne. He leaned on one of the ornate scrolled arms looking out on the chaos and seemingly bored stiff. His skin was nearly as gray as his thin scraggly hair, and he appeared as frail as a bird.
Kadlin bit down on her inner cheek and tried to summon her courage. This must be done. It is the right thing. She only hoped that this little wisp of a man could be reasoned with.
With one more deep breath, she stepped onto the rough stone, leading her pony behind her. She felt the revelers stop one by one and bore their eyes into her. The music stopped, and the great hall fell silent except for the clop of the pony’s hooves on the floor.
She kept her eyes fixed on the jarl, and when he finally saw her he sat up straight in his seat. “Well, what have we here?”
“Kadlin!” Bjorn shouted from behind her, but she didn’t turn. She focused only on the jarl and her mission.
She led her pony to the foot of the dais and concentrated on speaking clearly. “I am Kadlin, niece of Ivar. I have come to pay you your due.”
“Kadlin, no!”
She clenched her jaw at the sound of Bjorn’s tortured voice.
The jarl waved his hand, and she heard scuffling behind her. She continued to stare forward. The jarl looked over her shoulder and jerked his head back. Two men wrestled a struggling Bjorn onto the platform and held him in place at the jarl’s side.
The old man appraised Kadlin with a lecherous grin on his face. “So, Bjorn, your escaped charge has found her way here herself. She is a succulent jewel, isn’t she?”
Bjorn dropped his head to his chest, and her heart nearly broke at the sight of it.
“Please, jarl,” he said, not looking up. “You do not want this one. She is headstrong and will bring you no end of trouble. Let me sail for you. I promise I will bring back the most beautiful treasures for you or I shall die trying.”
“Ah, so that’s what you’re playing at, Bjorn. You want her for yourself.”
Bjorn looked up at him. “No, not at all. I was glad to be rid of her. I want to call that land my own, but I would not feel right paying my debt with such a liability.”
The jarl rose slowly from his seat, wincing as he took each shaky step towards Kadlin. He struggled down from the riser and limped to where she stood. He was a hand’s breadth shorter than her, and she thought she must outweigh him by half.
When he reached out and slid his dry fingertips over her face, she ground her teeth together until her jaw ached. She concentrated on slowing her breath as his hand traveled downward over her throat and into the front of her tunic. He wrapped a claw-like hand around her breast and squeezed hard. Tears of humiliation sprung to Kadlin’s eyes, and Bjorn roared in outrage. Two more men joined the others restraining him.
The jarl didn’t turn but smirked at the ruckus behind him. “Such soft flesh could make even my old stick hard,” he said.
Nervous laughter filled the hall. Another ferocious growl came from the dais, and Kadlin saw one of the men pull back his fist at the level of Bjorn’s jaw.
“Stop!” she screamed. She leveled her stare at the sneering jarl. “Let us make a wager.”
When the laughter finally died down and the jarl had caught his breath, he shuffled back onto the platform and slumped in his chair with a wheezing cough. “A wager? What do you have in mind, girl?”
Kadlin felt all eyes on her. “I will wager that I can show you treasure such as you have never seen. And if I am correct, I will hand over the treasure, and you will release me and my pony and consider Bjorn’s debt paid.”
The jarl chuckled. “I’ve seen plenty of sweet cunts. I can’t imagine yours is any more of a treasure than the next.”
She waited for the fresh round of laughter to subside. Her voice cut thro
ugh the last fading sniggers. “Are you afraid to accept my challenge?”
The hall fell silent.
“Afraid? Don’t you see this is a bet you can’t win? No matter what you show me, I can just say I’ve seen better, and you will lose.”
Kadlin glanced at Bjorn, and he shook his head, his eyes pleading with her to stop this madness. She bowed deeply then straightened and pinned the jarl with her stare. “I am also wagering that you are a man of great character, and you will honestly assess what I present.”
The jarl leaned forward. “And when you lose?”
“If I lose, you will own me and my pony and you can do what you like with him,” she said, nodding to Bjorn.
The jarl clapped his hands, “I accept!”
Bjorn sat slumped forward on riser. It seemed a colossal struggle for him to even raise his eyes to see the wager play out. Kadlin walked to her pony and drew out the long axe. She carefully unwrapped the sheath and carried it to the jarl. She turned the blade in the light to show off the exquisite filigree.
“It is very rare. It comes from the East and can sever a man’s head with a single swipe,” she said.
The old man leaned forward and studied the gleaming etched surface. His shoulders began to shake, and Kadlin wondered if he was having some kind of fit. It wasn’t until he sat back hard in his chair and howled that she realized he was laughing. When he had finally composed himself, he wiped his eyes and gestured to the long wall to his left. Kadlin turned, and he lost himself in laughter again. Hanging from the wall were ornate swords and shields, and at least a dozen long-handled axes identical to the one Kadlin held in her hands.
“Well, my dear, I don’t know who you think you are,” he wheezed, “but I can quite honestly say that I have seen such treasure. Now, why don’t you pull down those trousers and let me have a look at my reward?”
This time the laughter was deafening, and Kadlin had a sudden urge to swing the blade and lop off the braying ass’s head. Instead, she laid the weapon at his feet and waited patiently.
When at last it was quiet, she cleared her throat for attention. She stood and faced people in the hall. “I am Kadlin, daughter of Olav the shipbuilder, granddaughter of Sven the shipbuilder, great-granddaughter of Valdemar the shipbuilder, and great-great-granddaughter of Trygve royal shipbuilder to Queen Kunigunde across the sea, who paid him handsomely.”
Kadlin pulled open the purse hanging from her belt and drew out a soiled cloth. She unwrapped it and lovingly removed the small crown. As she’d done a thousand times since she was a child, she ran her fingers over the smooth gold interior and swept her thumb across the dozens of gems set on the surface. She lifted the coronet over her head for all to see then turned to face the jarl. She held the treasure under his nose and turned it so the light danced off of the tourmalines, pearls, amethysts, and sapphires.
The jarl’s mouth dropped open, and he looked up at Kadlin. He held out his hands, palms up, as if asking permission. She handed him the crown and took a step backward. There was shuffling in the hall as everyone leaned in to see the treasure.
The jarl nodded to the men surrounding Bjorn, and they stepped away from him. “Feed and water her pony and stable it for the night. At first light, you will ready her mount and his, as well. I need two men to gather a dozen of my finest sheep from the pasture and drive them to Bjorn’s land.”
He turned to Kadlin and smiled. “You, my dear, are a much better gambler than your uncle.”
* * * *
The street was lit by the torches the entourage carried as they all paraded from the great hall to the jarl’s home. Kadlin walked behind Bjorn and the jarl and strained to hear their hushed conversation. As she watched her man’s confident stride, her heart swelled. She had done it! She had won their freedom. They’d been invited to spend the night as the jarl’s guests, and in the morning, she and Bjorn would ride off to begin their life together.
The jarl’s house was by far the grandest in the village. A fire blazed in the huge open hearth at the center of the great room. The Viking and the jarl immediately took their places at one of the long tables and fell into earnest discussion. Kadlin presumed they were working out the transfer of property, and she moved to take a seat next to Bjorn but was headed off by a short, stout woman with a broad face and ruddy cheeks.
“I’ll show you to your bed, dear,” the woman said, wrapping a fleshy hand around Kadlin’s wrist.
“But, I—”
Kadlin was struck silent when Bjorn glared up at her. Her stomach lurched, and she tried to read his expression. He turned away without bidding her goodnight, and she let herself be led to a sleeping cupboard at the rear of the house. She lay back on the soft furs, her body bone-weary, but her mind spinning to make sense of Bjorn’s reaction.
If only I could touch him.
Concentrating on the popping fire and the murmur of the men’s voices, Kadlin tried to ignore the aching need that consumed her. Come to bed, Bjorn. Come lie with me.
When the benches finally scraped back from the table, Kadlin’s body tingled with anticipation. At sound of the Viking’s heavy footfalls coming near, Kadlin grew wet. She couldn’t wait to have his hands and mouth on her and to feel him deep inside her. She knew she would have to work hard to keep quiet once their bodies met.
When he stood beside the bed, she shifted toward the wall to make room for him then rolled on her side to watch him settle. He stretched out on his back beside her, and in the dim light, she saw him lace his fingers behind his head and stare up at the ceiling. Her gaze traced the strong, sharp angles of his profile. So handsome. The thick muscles of his bent arms bulged. So powerful. His bare chest rose and fell with each breath, and she longed to explore the hard valleys and sculpted ridges of his torso. She squirmed at the building tension that bundled between her legs.
When he made no move to touch her, she reached out and laid her palm on the tight, warm skin of his chest. He pulled one of his hands from behind his head and laid it over hers. Hot juices flowed from her the instant his fingers made contact. Her heartbeat pounded in her throat, and she licked her lips to prepare to meet his.
He lay perfectly still for a long moment, and she felt she would burst from anticipation. At last, he slid his fingers over the back of her hand and grasped her wrist. He firmly laid her arm against the side of her body, released his hold on her then turned onto his side with his back to her.
Kadlin was immobilized by grief. She swept her gaze over his broad back, silently begging him to roll over and love her. Finally, she turned toward the wall and buried her face into the furs so he would not hear her weep.
Chapter Five
The sound of the surf receded as they rode away from the coast. At noon, they stopped at a small spring to rest and water the horses. Bjorn passed her a cloth bundle and took one for himself. The jarl’s housemaid had prepared them each a cold lunch of bread, berries and dried venison, which they ate in silence. Bjorn had not spoken to her after she’d won their freedom. She’d spent a restless night lying beside him in the jarl’s house, close enough to sense his body heat but feeling a world apart.
When they’d finished eating, Bjorn snatched up their food bundles and walked back to the horses. He was shoving the cloths into a saddle pouch when Kadlin reached out and touched the tan skin above his leather bracer.
“Bjorn, please speak to me.”
He wheeled around to face her and looked as if he were struggling to maintain his composure. “Mount your pony. I want to be home before sunset.”
Kadlin tightened her grip. “Why are you so angry?”
He jerked his arm away. “I told you not to come!”
“I had to. Grima said you would not survive the voyage. She saw it.”
“Ha! Grima! Yet another headstrong fool. I am plagued by willful women!”
Stung by his coldness, Kadlin felt her pain turn to anger. She planted her fists on her hips. “What does it matter? All is well now. We are both free an
d—”
Bjorn grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her roughly. “You stupid imp! Did you not see the way he looked at you? Didn’t you hear the vile things he said? What if he had not accepted your bauble? What if he had taken you from me?”
Kadlin winced, and he released her. She dropped her gaze to the ground. “But he didn’t. I was only—”
“You disobeyed me! Yet again!” he roared.
* * * *
They rode west in strained silence. Kadlin reined her pony so that he trotted slightly behind Bjorn’s right hip. She stole glances at his stern profile. The Viking sat tall and rigid on his mount. He stared straight ahead but seemed to look at nothing. Tall spruce loomed up on either side of them, and the trail began to rise.
When they reached to top of the hill, Bjorn halted his horse and his shoulders seemed to relax. Kadlin pulled her pony up beside him and followed his gaze. They stood at the rim of a lush, green vale. Steep hills formed the sides of a roughly round bowl of land. The bottom was flat with a wide stream winding through the far edge. An expansive farmstead was laid out below with crops in neat rows, a long sod-roofed house and half dozen outbuildings. Hogs wallowed in a round paddock while goats and cows browsed near the outer edges of the farm. A dog barked, and two men looked up from their work between the crop rows. They stood and waved at Bjorn. He returned their greeting, and Kadlin saw a wide smile overtake his face.
A large, jet-black dog bounded up the hill, barking madly and wagging his curved plume of a tail. Bjorn swung smoothly from his horse and crouched a moment before the exuberant bundle of fur bowled him over and covered his face with slobber.
“Floki, you mangy cur! Off of me now, stupid beast!” Bjorn scolded, though his laughter gave away his delight. The Viking wrestled with his pet and scratched roughly at the long, shiny fur. He grasped the thick mane of hair just below the dog’s pointed ears and dragged its snout to within an inch of his own face. “Did you keep all in order while I was away?”
Floki barked as if confirming that he’d been doing his job.
Delivering Kadlin Page 5