by Rae Monet
For the most part, Eirik's father ignored her, making her feel like she didn't belong. This was the first time he'd spoken directly to her.
"What he is saying is..."
She looked pointedly at Einar and interrupted Eirik. “I know what he said. In my country, I am also a Warrior of the highest standing."
"I see you fight.” He glanced at Eirik. “With my son."
Sable nodded. She frequently practiced with Eirik and his men. Testing her skills on his men helped her improve. The fierce Viking fighting style combined with her Realm skills made her the Warrior to be beaten. Of course, Eirik bested her every time, a fact that constantly irritated her. She was just too distracted when she fought with him. She would rather he hauled her back to bed than to cross swords.
Soooo. Sable sat back and folded her arms in front of her.
He can speak English.
He broke off a piece of dried jerky and shoved it into his mouth. He pointed at her, the remaining meat still fisted in his hand.
"You are good."
Sable raised her eyebrows. She saw Eirik hiding a smile behind his hand.
Well, if Einar was going to talk, maybe she could press him.
"You know, Einar, there are many open spaces in other countries where your people could live and flourish."
He growled and waved his hand at her. “My son will keep my people here, Iceland, our home. The home of our fathers and their fathers."
Sable bristled. “There will be no more sons if Eirik does not do something."
Einar's fist slammed on the table and rocked the entire structure.
Sable's spine stiffened. She was not going to back down. “Einar you gave up the right to make decisions about this settlement years ago. Why do you hold Eirik back?"
"Sable.” Eirik's stern voice stopped her from any further outburst.
Einar sat back, appearing shocked by her statement. He turned toward Eirik. “Son, do you want to move?"
Eirik sighed and propped his chin in his hands.
Good Gods, had they never discussed Eirik's feelings about the subject?
"Father, I am concerned about our state. So many have died. The land has dried up. The cold continues to get worse every year. The mountain has taken entire villages with its fire. It might be time to think about returning to Norway."
Sable remembered when Eirik had explained that Norway was where most of his people had come from.
The memory fled as she watched tears formed in Einar's eyes. He slapped Eirik on the shoulder and nodded.
"You are Jarl, my son. However, I will never leave here. So go.” He waved his hand. “But do not expect your mother, Ericka or I to follow."
Eirik gave Sable a pointed stare. “I understand, Father.” With a nod, he rose and strode from the table.
As soon as Eirik left the longhouse, Sable glared at Einar. “You stubborn bastard. You won't be happy till all of your people die.” Without waiting for his response, she got up and went after Eirik.
She found him on the rise overlooking the valley. Deep in thought, he didn't acknowledge her presence until she walked up behind him and slipped her arms around his chest.
"I'm sorry, I thought..."
"I know.” He patted her arm. “He is so stubborn. His life has always been here. He will not leave. But I know I must do something, for the good of all who rely on me. But, Gods, I will miss Mother and Ericka...” His voice tailed off.
The sun was sinking below the horizon. The contrast of the black smoking mountain and the glossy white ice reflecting off the sunset was striking.
"It is beautiful here, untamed. But underneath is a land harsh and unforgiving,” she said as she laid her cheek against his back.
"Yes, it is.” He turned her in his arms and claimed her lips.
When she came up for air her heart was thundering in her chest.
"Kind of like a certain beautiful woman I know."
"And a man I know."
He smiled and leaned his chin on the top of her head. They remained on the rise until the sun sank beneath the horizon. Arm in arm they walked back to Eirik's house. They stayed in for the evening.
Chapter Eleven
"Attack!” Leif shouted, flinging open the front door.
Eirik sat up in his bed, his sleep fleeing. Leif nodded and left. Eirik heard him calling the warning to the others.
"Gods! Sable, get dressed!” Eirik threw back the covers and reached for his breeches. Moving quickly, he donned his leather armor, then threw another leather shirt in Sable's direction.
"Hurry,” he said, even though she was already pulling on her clothes.
"What's happening?"
"It will surely be an attack from another settlement."
He plucked his axe off the wall and tucked his long knife into his belt. Grabbing both his swords, he slid them into their scabbards. Glancing at Sable, he grabbed another sword and tossed it to her. She caught it in the air without effort. Even in their stress, he couldn't help but admire her, half naked, scrambling around for her clothing. She had that sexy kitten look that pleased his eyes. She was a Warrior and his lover, what a strange combination. He didn't even think about asking her to stay inside. She wouldn't have it. He loved that about her.
Loved?
Where had that word come from? Did he love her?He had never been attracted to a woman like he was to Sable, butlove? He shook his head and tried to push his thoughts away. He needed to concentrate, to protect his family, his people and Sable against their attackers.
Screaming and warrior cries rang outside the house. Eirik secured his weapons and raced to join the fight. He heard Sable running behind him.
"Gods.” It appeared as if over fifty men were slaughtering his small village. His men were racing out of their homes to defend their families. Before he could assess the situation further, he was set upon by an armed man with a sharp sword and a ferocious snarl. He heard the clash of swords next to him, and knew Sable had joined the fight. As always during a fight, energy pulsed through his body, making him stronger and faster than practicing with his own men. He slashed his sword into his opponent's ribs. The man went down like a tree struck by lightning. Feeling like he was on fire, Eirik tore through a dozen fighting Vikings before he reached his father's side. Einar was a skilled fighter. Maybe not as good as Eirik, but darn close.
"Who is it?” he yelled.
"Axe's men."
"Christ.” Eirik feinted left, spun and took another man down.
"Father, try to break away and move the women and children to the longhouse. I'll cover you."
"Aye,” his father yelled, and sliced his way toward the children. Out of the corner of his eye, Eirik could see Sable fighting. She was strong and didn't falter. Weeks of practice had honed her skills.
It was in that moment he realized how much he really loved her. She was fighting for his family, willing to give her blood for their dying cause. He couldn't have asked for a better woman. He fought toward her, leaving a trail of men swearing and holding onto various parts of their anatomy. Reaching Sable, he positioned himself back to back with her.
"Hello, my love.” Eirik struck down a particular nasty foe with his battle-axe.
"Hello, darling.” She grunted, spun and took another man down.
"Are you well?” he asked.
She gave a warrior yell and charged. He glanced in time to see her thrust left, taking out another man.
"Yes, I'm doing splendid, and you?” she said, panting.
The absurdity of their conversation struck him as funny, but their chatter helped keep him calm and focused. Especially since he was now positioned at her side. He had to protect her.
"Sable?” Eirik raised his sword and absorbed a blow to his shield.
"Yes?” She dropped down to the ground, kicked out the feet of another man, and killed him.
"I'm in love with you."
She gave a battle yell and disposed of another man. She spared him a quick glance.
"Don't you think there might be a better time to discuss this?"
Eirik smiled. Pulling his knife from his belt, he threw it at a man approaching Sable from the side. The blade hit him directly between the eyes. The man went down instantly.
"Mayhap. Just wanted to tell you.” Eirik raised his head in the air and howled. It was time to get serious. “Watch your back,dýrr , I'm going to take care of these bastards."
He took three steps forward. Dropping his shield, he pulled a second sword from his back and got to work. It took a matter of minutes to litter the ground with bodies. Eirik had always been a gifted fighter, likely from hisBerserkers heritage. When these men had decided to raid his village and kill his people, they had signed their death warrants.
Taking a deep breath to calm his pounding heart, Eirik scanned the area. They had fought well. The dead bodies were not his men. He didn't see any further immediate threat. Making a hand signal to Sable, he jogged toward the longhouse, praying his father had led the women and children to safety. He could hear Sable behind him. But for some reason Eirik had a bad feeling.
He passed Leif and Bryon guarding the doors, both looking grim. When he entered the longhouse, the first thing he saw was his mother on her hands and knees, crying over a man's body lying on the floor. Another step, Eirik saw lay her cheek rest against the man's chest.
Eirik's heart dipped. It couldn't be his father. It couldn't.
"Noooo!” He rushed forward and dropped to his knees next to his mother. His father's breathing was labored, wheezing. A large bloodstain spread across his chest directly over his heart. He had been stabbed, the wound fatal. He was dying.
"Father!” Eirik picked up his father's hand. It was so cold, as cold as the harsh metal that had severed his life's blood.
"Father,” Eirik whispered as he brought his hand to his father's cheek.
His father had enough breath to whisper one last order. “Son, take my people away."
Eirik nodded as tears rolled down his face. He felt the weight of Sable's hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Then his father took his last breath and passed on. His mother howled in grief and rested her head on his father's chest. Eirik took a moment to grieve, dropping his head to his father's hand.
His mother still sobbed when Eirik lifted his head. “Who did this?” he demanded.
Leif answered, “Axe's men. They took several of the cattle and horses, then he left his men to clean up."
"I vow I will kill him.” Eirik stood and drew his sword. Raising it into the air, he shouted, “Prepare for battle."
His men cheered and raised their swords in response.
* * * *
"Eirik, I beg you, let me go with you.” She was starting to realize he was as stubborn as his father had been.
Shaking his head, he secured a belt around his middle. He lifted a gloved hand and stroked her jaw. Sable clasped her hand over his, trapping his palm to her cheek. She reached up and returned the caress. Then she leaned forward, stood on her toes and kissed him hard.
His arms came around her and he clutched her tightly, his mouth ravaging hers. He drew back. His eyes were red-rimmed from his grief. He had vowed to kill Axe in revenge for his father's death. She knew how seriously he took his vows.
"No, Sable, I need you to stay here with the women and children."
Sable nodded. He pushed her hair off her forehead.
"Please take care,” she said.
He smiled. “Gods, I'm in love with you,dýrr ."
She remembered him telling her of his love in the heat of battle. She didn't have time then to give him a proper response. She wanted to now.
"I love you as well, my Viking."
His smile turned into a full grin. “I knew it.” Picking her up, he gave a Viking yell and spun her around. Then he allowed her body to slide down his until her feet rested on the ground.
"You also take care.” With another quick nod, he turned and left the house to join his men.
* * * *
Less than an hour after the men left, Sable realized Axe's strategy. His men strolled back into the settlement as if they owned it. Sable stood facing him now, sword in her hand. She had ordered the other women and children into the longhouse and thank the gods they had complied. Now it was just her against a dozen men with bloodlust in their eyes.
"You minethrall .” Axe was calling her his slave.
Sable didn't like it.
"In your dreams.” She charged and was surrounded by six of his largest men. She twirled and yelled, engaging one after another.
Against so many men, she didn't have a chance. She managed to down four of them before she took a deep blade cut to her thigh. Her leg buckled and she fell to one knee. Before she could defend herself, Axe grabbed her hair, pulled her head back and brought a blade to her throat. Sable tried to slow her breathing as the blade nicked her. A warm wetness dripped down her throat, a contrast to the cold metal of the blade. Her leg throbbed from the wound.
"You fight, you die."
Sable growled. He had said that to her before. But dying was not in her plans. She had a village of women and children to protect.
Axe yelled something to his men. Two pairs of beefy hands grabbed her arms from behind. She was dragged along the ground and into the longhouse.
"Anika, take everyone to the back,” she yelled at Eirik's mother.
Anika herded the woman and children toward the back of the house.
The men dropped Sable on the floor, face down. She bounced like a toy and groaned at the pain in her leg. She stared over her shoulder.
Axe pointed at her. “Stay."
Sable turned and sat on the floor, waiting for her fate to catch up with her. Eirik had helped her cheat death once and taken a vow to protect her. But he wasn't here now.
* * * *
Eirik realized Axe had tricked him within an hour. They stopped on the hill overlooking Axe's settlement. No men were in sight. Eirik turned and made eye contact with Bjorn.
"Where are the men?” Bjorn's gaze shifted to the village.
Immediately, Eirik made the connection. In that moment, he was more scared than he'd ever been in his life. He turned and began running. His men didn't even need to ask, they followed him without question. As Eirik ran, he wondered. Would they get there in time to save their families?
Chapter Twelve
Sable pressed her hand to her bleeding leg, attempting to stop the flow. Blood soaked through her leather breeches. She realized she was losing too much blood. The wound needed stitching.
She peered around the room, plotting a way to get them out safely. The women and children huddled together in the back of the longhouse. They were quiet, savvy to the way of war. Because of their stillness, they hadn't needlessly attracted the attention of Axe's men. Sable was eternally grateful for their calm. She couldn't let anything happen to any of these people.
Axe had left maybe a quarter of an hour ago. Likely he was checking to see if any opposition remained in the village. She knew what he would find—they were alone.
Sable curled up, pulling her arms around her legs, and rested her head on her tired arms. Her situation was dire. She told herself she wouldn't think about what Axe was planning. Yet she couldn't stop thinking about it. He had hated her from the first moment they met. She feared the price she would pay for pointing that knife at his cock.
Hearing footsteps returning, she tensed. Even though a helmet obscured her view of his face, she knew it was Axe. Metal dropped down over his nose, making him appear like the Devil reincarnated. But Sable recognized Axe by his long-legged, purposeful stride. He had something in mind, and she guessed she wouldn't like it.
He yelled orders at his men. Several filed out. A few remained. He removed his helmet and handed it to the man next to him. Then he began removing his clothing.
Sable knew what he was going to do, her body feeling like shards of ice floated in her blood. As he reached the ties of his shirt, Sable for
med a plan. The element of surprise was her strongest weapon. Perhaps her only one.
"You fight, you die,” he told her as he continued to divest himself of his clothing, handing his weapons to the man at his side.
Sable reminded herself she was a Wolf Warrior, chosen at the age of six to train for her craft. Her mark, a wolf tattoo, meant only one thing—she would die fighting for her cause. Of this, Sable was certain. All Wolf Warriors, when facing death, automatically broadcasted a telepathic message for assistance. Sable was doing this now, but it would do little good. Her fellow Solarian Warriors were safe and sound in their Scottish homes, tucked far away in the highland hills.
Forcing herself to her feet, she ignored the pain in her leg and widened her stance, her hands lifted. She could feel the blood began to trickle down her leg. Apparently thinking she was making a sign of surrender, Axe reached for the tie of his beeches. When his hands wrapped around the last of those ties, Sable struck. She dived forward and rolled on the floor, coming up next to the man at his side. She snatched the long knife from his hand and lunged at Axe.
He jumped back, and the blade missed his heart, sinking instead into his leg. As she pulled it out, ready to try again, Axe's man hit her from behind. She went down hard and scrambled for another weapon.
Axe's yells filled the longhouse and she glimpsed him clutching his knee.
Good, she had at least disabled one body part. She plucked up another sword. Axe's man leaned over her, his sword slicing down. Rolling onto her back, she held the weapon at his heart. He stopped, his sword stilling. Sable slowly rose to her feet, her weapon never wavering. But her leg started to buckle. While she tried to pull some of her weight off of it, the man backed from the point of her sword.
They slowly circled each other. He ran forward and engaged her. Sable parried, dipped and tried to avoid his blow. She wasn't moving very well, dragging an injured leg. Suddenly, a yell from behind the man made him turn, then back away.
Axe stood with a crossbow in his hands, pointing it directly at her.
"Now,thrall ,” he said in a voice filled with hate, “you die."