Handfasted to the Bear: Reformed Rogues Book 2

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Handfasted to the Bear: Reformed Rogues Book 2 Page 13

by Elina Emerald


  “Jarl Thorfinn, there is no need. He is my husband, Brodie Fletcher of the MacGregor clan.

  “You will call me Far from now on… and you… married that man?” Thorfinn pointed at Brodie.

  “Aye, I love him.”

  Brodie smiled at his wife’s declaration.

  Thorfinn frowned and rose from his chair. “Macbeth, I mis speak to you.” He rumbled.

  They moved away from the others.

  “I want that marriage annulled. As her far I should be the one to choose her husband and dinnae like the one she has. He’s… defiant,” Thorfinn said.

  “Cousin, the marriage is legal and attested to by the church, and they have consummated it.”

  “The marriage wis illegal because I did not consent.”

  “Come now, Thorfinn, she is happy, there is no political gain in nullifying her marriage.”

  “I want my dattar to come back with me to Orkney and marry a nobleman. I dinnae want that man with her. His eyes are shifty.” Thorfinn grumbled.

  Macbeth sighed. “That man has protected her all his life. The only reason ye dinnae like him is because he is not afraid of ye.”

  “Aye, precisely. Tis proof he is touched in the head.” Thorfinn scowled.

  “Your nighean willna let him go, so ye best put that idea away if ye want a good relationship with her.”

  Thorfinn just scowled. “We will see.”

  When they returned to the others, it surprised them to witness King Magnus making open advances towards Orla.

  ***

  Thralls and Concubines

  Orla sat beside the King of Norway, feeling a little uncomfortable. She wanted to go to Brodie, but King Magnus kept talking. They called him ‘Magnus the Good’ as he was known to be a man of high morals and principles.

  Although only nineteen summers, he seemed older than his age. He was nothing like she would have imagined for a boy-king. There was nothing boyish about his physique. He was tall and muscular. No stranger to hard work and battle, as his calloused hands attested.

  But it was his manner which impressed Orla. There was kindness in his eyes when he smiled and when he spoke, he was articulate and confident and assured in his stride.

  Orla noticed King Magnus stared a great deal at her. He had even reached out and swept an errant curl out of her face.

  “Did you know your mor was to be a gift to my far, King Olaf?” Magnus asked.

  Orla just shook her head, surprised by the revelation.

  “Tis true, but the Jarl kept her for himself. It must have been genuine love if he defied a King over it.”

  “Was King Olaf displeased?” Orla said.

  Magnus chuckled. “Not at all. Besides, my far already had an English concubine… my mother Alfhild who now lives in my palace in Norway. She was Queen Astrid’s lady-in-waiting and become my far’s concubine.”

  “Was there a scandal? Given that she was close to the Queen?”

  Magnus grinned. “The biggest scandal in history! No one knew until my mor started showing and King Olaf confessed the child was his. Queen Astrid also lives in my palace. She and my mor… let’s just say they dislike each other.”

  “How do you keep the peace?” Orla asked.

  “I make sure they are never in the same room, at the same time. If they are, I have guards standing between them because once, at a banquet, Astrid tore out my mor’s wig.”

  Orla opened her mouth in surprise. “No…”

  “It’s true, the wig landed on the head of the roast pig.”

  Orla and Magnus shared a look, then both started giggling like children.

  When they both composed themselves after Brodie cleared his throat loudly several times. Magnus said, “It’s ironic no, that the daughter of a thrall and a son of a concubine would be here now, together, feasting at the table of kings.”

  “Aye, you are insightful for one so young.”

  “Maybe it is fate that has brought us together?” He raised an eyebrow.

  Was the King of Norway flirting with her? Orla was uncertain. She heard a small growl coming from Brodie and when she looked over at him, he was clenching his fists but did not move from Dalziel’s side.

  “I was eleven when I came to the throne. Did you know that?” Magnus said.

  “It must have been difficult for one so young.” Orla empathized.

  “And this year I also became King of Denmark. It is a significant change for a child, who came into the world, struggling for his first breath.”

  Magnus seemed contemplative. “I was born early and not expected to survive the night because I could barely breathe. But God had other plans. Not only did I keep breathing, but I grew stronger each day. I learned to conquer and not be conquered, and I surrounded myself with excellent advisors.” He paused, then reached out and brushed the back of his hand across Orla’s cheek.

  “So, I am very blessed and have much to offer the right woman.”

  “It sounds like destiny your majesty.”

  “Please call me Magnus. We are closer in age and I feel ancient when you refer to me in such formal tones. I would love to hear my name spilled from your lips with ease.” He gave her a poignant look. “You are exquisite, Orla.” He whispered as he moved his chair closer. “Maybe you would consider coming with me when I return to Norway?”

  Orla could feel the tension coming from Brodie.

  Orla blushed. “I am flattered your maj—"

  “Magnus.” He interrupted her.

  “Uh Magnus.”

  Magnus closed his eyes when she said his name, then opened them and looked into hers, “Please say my name again.”

  “Magnus?”

  Magnus smiled at her then. “It is as if an Angel from the heavens spoke my name.”

  Brodie snorted out loud, and Dalziel tried hard to not laugh.

  Orla was feeling uncomfortable.

  “You were saying?” Magnus asked.

  “Oh, ah yes Magnus, I am flattered but I cannot leave Scotland. My life is here with my husband.”

  “Aye!” Brodie shouted from the other side of the table before Dalziel kicked him in the shin.

  Magnus ignored Brodie and just stared at Orla before sighing. “Well, it is a pity, my rare beauty. We will revisit this talk again soon.”

  By then Macbeth and Thorfinn had returned to the table and Magnus pulled away from Orla.

  ***

  On Edge

  That night when they returned to their bedchamber, Brodie was on edge.

  It had been hours since he had touched Orla because the reunion went on forever. The torture of being denied access to his own wife had him feeling like a caged animal.

  His possessive tendencies had escalated since Magnus started openly flirting with her, and Brodie viscerally needed to claim his woman all over again.

  Which he did several times all over their bedroom chamber. He took her in front of the fireplace, inside their shared bath, on the table, on the floor rug, chair, bed, on top of a drawer, on the window nook, against the door. Any flat surface he could take her, he did until he could calm down again.

  Orla did not complain, although she was currently passed out beside him on the bed.

  Brodie lay on his back and held her tight as he stared at the ceiling.

  He was certain the threat to her life was over now that Thorfinn knew of her existence and they could return to Glenorchy.

  Brodie would soon find out how wrong he was.

  ***

  Chapter 14 – Family Ties

  Royal Palace—Lake Hayq, Abyssinia

  Zenabu, Queen Gudit’s advisor for many years, had never put a foot wrong. He was a loyal subject, and he would serve his beloved queen until he died.

  Over the years he had gained much power and privilege, and it had been his greatest accomplishment organizing the retrieval of Prince Kato from the clutches of a madman.

  But all would come to nothing if something happened to the Prince.

  Zenabu had woke
n with a bad feeling that something was amiss. He immediately went in search of Kato and hoped the Prince was not getting himself into mischief. Kato had a strong will and innate ability to attract trouble. The Prince was a skilled warrior and good fighter, but he always pushed the boundaries.

  Zenabu knew it was because Kato was born to lead and some day, he would make a strong King. But a ruler was only effective if they knew when to act, and when to be still and listen. Zenabu had a bad feeling that Kato was about to push the boundaries too far.

  He had just entered the family’s private solar when he heard Queen Gudit shouting.

  Despite his age, Zenabu could still run, and he did so. When he burst into the Queen’s study, he saw her hunched over a letter and cursing.

  “What is it, my Nigisiti?”

  “Kato! That foolhardy grandson of mine…”

  “What has the Li’uli done now?”

  “He has gone to Scotland!”

  ***

  Kinrossie, Perthshire, Scotland

  Ajani Nuru, ‘The Seeker’ of Habesha, had travelled many miles searching for a woman he failed to rescue when she was a baby. It was a regret he held for many years. At the time he had mere moments to save two babes, but the hand fate dealt him meant he could only spare one. He chose and abandoned one child to save another.

  Now he could redeem himself and complete his promise to his Queen.

  Through his intricate web of scouts and informants, he had contacted The King of Scotland and was close to claiming his prize.

  Ajani camped in woodlands near the Castle fort, studying the movements of the people within learning their weak points.

  Men like Ajani were born Seekers, they could find anything and anyone. They lived quietly in the shadows, making their presence known only when they deemed the time was right.

  He had already been inside Macbeth’s Castle several times, always in a different disguise to hide his skin. He had even followed the King for a day perched high above the ceiling. It amazed him how rarely people looked up.

  In his wanderings about the Castle walls, Ajani had discovered one thing.

  No matter their race, their creed or color, the hearts of men were often treacherous.

  Ajani knew what dangers awaited the Princess.

  As he sharpened the sickle curved blades of his shotel swords, he vowed that this time, he would not abandon her to the unknown.

  Ajani heard a leaf rustle behind him. He twirled around, ready to strike with his blade, then stared in astonishment. “Li’uli Kato, what are you doing here?”

  ***

  Rose Garden—Macbeth’s Castle

  A day after their first meeting, Thorfinn had requested Orla join him for a walk in Queen Gruoch’s rose gardens.

  Thorfinn wanted private time away from everyone to get to know his daughter better.

  As they meandered through the gardens he said, “Your mother was exquisite. She was also adept at using weapons. When she fought with swords, it was like a Valkyrie riding into battle.”

  Orla thought about the dream she had of her mother. “How was she with swords?”

  “Izara always fought with two swords, one in each hand. She would twirl them with her wrists and shift her body weight from side to side.”—Thorfinn showed the movements by lifting his arms out to his side and twirling his wrists using imaginary swords. He then shifted his weight from one foot to the other pivoting back and forth — “She could always anticipate my next move.”

  “You used to train with her?”

  Thorfinn resumed walking and said, “Aye, I loved it. It was exhilarating. Her skills were exceptional. She had the blacksmith fashion a particular sword, she called a ‘shotel’. They curved the blade like a semicircle. It was effective because the blade could curve around a man’s shield and hook them in the side.”

  “Do you still have this sword?”

  “No, after the fire I couldn’t find any trace of it.”

  “What was she like?”

  Thorfinn was silent for a moment, then said, “She was my peace. She calmed the raging tempest within me with the quiet strength and formidable resilience. It was as if, she was born to be a queen.”

  “Do you regret capturing her?”

  “Sometimes, but if I had not done it, I would never have kenned that kind of love could exist between two people. I am but a selfish man.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  They walked in silence as Orla contemplated what he said.

  “Are you married now? Is there a wife in the Orkneys?”

  Thorfinn sighed. “Not yet, but there will be soon. I mourned a long time after Izara passed. But I have since found a good, gentle woman who has helped me heal. She reminds me a lot of Izara.”

  “I am glad that you have found her. What is her name?”

  “Ingibiorg Finnsdottir, a gentle woman. I am determined to make her happy.”

  “Why do you frown?” Orla asked.

  “I always feel like an ugly ogre next to gentlewomen.”

  “Far, you are not an ugly ogre to me.”

  “Then I fear you may have a sight impediment, dattar.”

  Orla burst out laughing.

  He smiled and said, “You remind me of your mor when you laugh.”

  They spent the next two hours sharing about their lives and talking of weapons and the latest in Viking ships. Orla even agreed to fashion a bow for Thorfinn while he arranged a sword be made for her bearing the Orkney crest.

  By the end of their time together, Thorfinn had decided that Orla was too good for a meagre Scottish clan. He wanted her wielding her own power and gracing the halls of a Royal Court. He would see it done.

  ***

  Brodie remained close by, but a pit formed in his stomach.

  Orla was not an orphan but in fact the daughter of a powerful Jarl, the great granddaughter of a past Scottish king and a cousin to Macbeth. She really was too good for him, although she always had been. Brodie felt beneath her, but there was still no way he was giving her up. He believed deep in his soul that they were destined to be together.

  ***

  The King’s Study

  “Moddan is in the wind,” Macbeth said to Dalziel.

  “How?”

  “He killed two of the men I sent to follow him. He was to meet me and Thorfinn last night for a private meeting but didn’t show.”

  “I will send out a hunt,” Dalziel said.

  “Malise is also searching for him in case he has headed to the Hebrides.”

  “What has been decided about Orla? Is it safe for her to return to Glenorchy now that the Jarl kens of her existence?” Dalziel asked.

  “About that… tis a wee bit more complicated now,” Macbeth said.

  “How so?”

  “Take a seat Dalziel, I need your keen mind to work a way out of this mess.”

  Dalziel braced himself. He knew he was about to receive information he would not like.

  ***

  The Great Hall

  During the afternoon repast Brodie and Orla sat together in the Great Hall. They were seated at a special trestle table just below the dais when Dalziel joined them.

  “We have a problem,” he said in a low voice.

  “What is it?” Brodie asked.

  “The Jarl wants your marriage annulled.”

  “What?” Brodie clenched his fists.

  “He cannot do that?” Orla hissed.

  “Aye, he can, he has petitioned Macbeth for a formal annulment citing his lack of consent as your, da.”

  Brodie and Orla looked shocked.

  “Over my dead body! She is my wife even now she could be with child.” Brodie hissed.

  “But why? What does he expect to gain out of this?” Orla was livid, to think after a lovely time spent in the gardens, her father could demand an annulment.

  “King Magnus wants Orla in Norway with him and he has offered to grant Thorfinn a bigger share of Orkney in return,” Dalziel said.

  Brodie pulle
d Orla closer to his side. “King Magnus can go to the devil! This is my wife and I willna let him take her.”

  “Tis politics and power play, Brodie. Your marriage has become a complicated matter. But calm yourselves. I merely came to warn you lest you hear from another source. I need you to trust me.”

  “Aye, thank you brother.” Brodie said in a defeated voice.

  “I cannot believe my athair would do this to me?” Orla said.

  All her life Orla wished she had kin but now she wished she were plain Orla the orphan.

  ***

  Chapter 15 – Wooden Doors

  The Smithy

  Macbeth’s Castle was a fortified monolith created to keep any threat out. What they had not anticipated was the threat from within the Castle itself.

  The surprise attack came swiftly. No one was ready for it, least of all the King.

  The morning had started the same as all previous mornings. Brodie made love to his wife. They bathed and broke their fast together, then he was called away to see to his men.

  Orla tried to talk to her father about the annulment. However, Thorfinn was actively avoiding her and King Magnus was suspiciously unavailable.

  Angry and frustrated, she headed to the Smithy where they kept raw materials for weapons and armor. She intended to fashion a bow for Thorfinn and for Queen Gruoch. The latter had asked about Orla’s designs.

  The guards let her in through the gated doors near the forge, and she was allowed free rein to work in the guild apprentice’s section.

  While Orla was rummaging through a back chamber gathering raw materials, she noticed a weird tension in the air. From her vantage point she was hidden behind piles of materials which enabled her to observe people openly. Some were nervous, and one apprentice kept glancing at the postern gate.

  Orla saw the gate open from the outside which was unusual as it should be locked. Then she saw men pouring in. She heard her name being mentioned and others pointed towards the back chamber. Her heart started pounding faster. They were looking for her.

  It startled Orla when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

 

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