Vikings' Brides Box Set

by Jessica Knight

  “He asked me to join him. I said no. I tried to leave him in privacy, but I couldn’t move my feet, then suddenly, he pulled me to the edge of the tub, and his lips lingered on my cheek. Right here.” I point to the spot right next to my mouth. “It seems silly to call it my first kiss since it wasn’t on the mouth, but the way he made my stomach flip. I don’t know how else to consider it.”

  “It is. Oh, that is so wonderful, Thyra. I’m so happy for you.”

  I sigh, “Don’t be, just yet. Father seems to want to crush my happiness.”

  She pats my shoulder. “He is just worried. He’s trying to protect you. That’s all. He isn’t handling it right, I agree, but I think he is doing the best he can. Lord Troy is a good man.”

  “If this is his best, it is a poor effort.”

  “I know, but in time you and Einarr shall finally come together if the goddess sees it is the right fit. And I think it is. Sparks fire in the air when you two are around each other.”

  “Really?” The silly thing called hope makes my voice rise.

  “Really.”

  The sound of hooves thundering on the ground steals our attention. It’s Wulf and Trident. And Einarr is nowhere near to be found.

  “Sassa,” I gasp, reaching for her hand with shock. Is he hurt? What happened? What did my father do? So many questions run through my mind as they come forward.

  “Oh, my goddesses,” Sassa gasps.

  And I see why.

  Wulf is carrying a small child. A young girl. The poor thing has the Jackal symbol on her neck. She is sleeping. Filthy and too skinny.

  “What happened?” I run to the right of Wulf’s steed.

  “We were patrolling the South border when we noticed a disturbance in the tree line. We followed it and found her. She has attached herself to Einarr. She will not be happy when she wakes up and he is not here.”

  I swallow, thinking the worst possible thing. “And where is he?”

  “Your father found us, and Einarr sent us away,” Trident grunts as he slides off his horse. “I know he is your father, Lady Thyra, but if he keeps acting this way, Einarr won’t care if he is your father. And neither will Lord Grimkael.”

  Tears brim my eyes. “I know. I wish I knew what to do. Father and I got into a fight earlier because of Einarr.”

  Wulf lifts the sleeping girl effortlessly and places her in my arms. “Einarr wants her protected and taken care of. He will be back soon, Lady Thyra.”

  “Thank you, Beowulf. Trident.” I nod to each of them.

  They take their horses to the stable, leaving me with the small child. I look at Sassa for help. I have no idea what to do. The poor child is so small, so fragile. I’m afraid I will break her.

  “Come, get her inside,” Sassa says. The guard at the door opens it for us, looking at the small girl with questions and a slight amount of judgement.

  So many questions as to why Einarr would bring a Jackal here. I understand she is a young girl, but can she really be trusted?

  We rush to the medical wing. Leiva, the nurse, is changing the linens on the few beds that we have for the sick and injured. Right now, the only patient is an elderly man with very weak lungs. We do not expect him to make it through the night. It is tragic.

  When she sees us, she smiles, but it quickly fades when she catches the urgency on our faces and sees the child in my arms. “What happened?”

  When she gets close enough, she gasps and takes a step back. “You dare bring the enemy here! In the castle?”

  “Are you questioning me?” Sassa frowns, tilting her chin up and pushing her shoulders back.

  “No, my Lady. I apologize. I did not mean to seem so rude. This is a Jackal.”

  I press my hand against the young girl’s head as she lays her cheek on my shoulder, still sleeping. “She is a child first. She did not choose this life.”

  Leiva gives in and spreads her right arm out to show us to the bed. “Put her there. I need to listen to her heart.” I lay her down, and the little one has such a sweet face. She is still sleeping. It is tricky unwrapping her arms from my neck, but I finally lay her hands flat on the bed.

  “She is filthy. I cannot believe she does not have an infection from this wound.” Leiva shakes her head. “People are so cruel.”

  Leiva examines the girl, placing her ear against the wee one’s chest. “Her heart is strong, but she is very underweight. She has been mistreated. She has bruises everywhere. The poor thing.” Leiva places a cold cloth on the girl’s forehead. “She feels warm. It could be nothing.”

  I sigh and walk toward the window, wishing Einarr was here. He would know what to do.

  “She’s waking up,” Leiva says.

  I rush back over to the bedside. The girl rubs her eyes and yaws. She blinks. Her brows pinch together when she realizes she has no idea where she is. Her breathing changes and big tears well in her eyes when she panics.

  She starts screaming, “Where am I? Where is Einarr? I want Einarr!”

  I take her by the hand and smile. “It’s fine. You’re safe. Einarr shall be back very soon. He ran into a problem and is fixing it. We are his friends. You are safe here with us.”

  “You know Einarr?” she sniffles and rubs her eyes again with the back of her hand.

  “Aye, I do. Einarr is a very… close friend of mine. He is a very kind man. He is worried about you and told us to give you a good bath and a warm meal. Perhaps, I’ll brush your hair if you like. And then you can go back to sleep.”

  “No, I want to be awake when he comes back.” The girl’s bottom lip starts to tremble.

  “Whatever you wish. We must get you cleaned up, and make sure that nasty little burn doesn’t get infected.”

  “Can you get it off? I don’t want it! They are bad people. They do bad things. I want it off,” she wails.

  “Sweetheart, it will hurt very bad. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want it.”

  “What’s your name, dear?” Sassa asks.

  “Abigale.”

  “Right, Abigale. I am Lady Sassa. I’m the Queen of this kingdom. Lord Grimkael is my husband. You are safe here. I promise. The nurse taking care of you is Leiva, and this is Lady Thyra, my best friend.”

  Her big brown eyes are wide. “You’re the Queen?”

  Sassa giggles, “I am. Can you believe that?”

  “Amazing,” the girl says with a big smile, but then it turns to a frown. “Can we take off the mark when Einarr is back? I don’t want to do it without him.”

  “Whatever you wish, Abigale. But first, we must get you a nice hot bath, right? Leiva will clean that wound, and then I’ll bring you some stew.”

  “Oh, it’s been days since I ate. Do you have bread? I love bread.”

  “Whatever you wish.” Sassa bops Abigale’s nose.

  “Right,” she says in a small voice.

  “I know everything is new and scary, but you are safe. I promise,” I tell the girl.

  We help Abigale from the bed and to the bath. It takes some heavy scrubbing, but we finally get all the dirt from her skin and pull the knots from her hair.

  Once she is dried off, Leiva puts an herbal paste on the wound on the side of her neck. She already looks better. All fresh and clean. I can see her ribs and her hips. So underweight.

  We give her one of Einarr’s shirts, at her request, and a pair of my undergarments. We did not have clothes for a child this age at the ready. After a nice bowl of stew and two thick pieces of bread, Abigale does her best to wait for Einarr, but her eyelids droop until they finally close. She falls asleep on the bed, and I cover her up with the thin linen at the end of the bed.

  “Poor girl,” Leiva says. “She’s so frightened. She has imprinted on Einarr.”

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean?” I ask Leiva.

  “She acquaints safety and protection with Einarr. Hence, why she wanted to wear his shirt and kept asking for him. He is her protector now.
”

  I know the feeling.

  “I think it’s sweet,” Sassa chimes in, stretching and yawning before she gets up. “I am going to bed. I cannot wait for Grim to be back. My feet are killing me, and usually he rubs them every night.”

  “Goodnight, Lady Sassa,” Leiva calls.

  “Goodnight,” I repeat.

  “Are you not going to bed?” Sassa’s hands go to her back and she arches it to get some relief from the muscles straining.

  “No. I think I’ll wait for Einarr to get back. I think Abigale needs someone here that is familiar until he gets home.”

  “Very well, then.” Sassa leaves the room, and Leiva follows close behind, leaving me alone with Abigale.

  I bring my lips to her ear and whisper, “I understand why you like Einarr so much. Do you want to know a secret?”

  She is asleep and can’t answer. But I tell her anyway.

  “I like him, too.” And every day that passes, the urge to be near him only grows stronger.

  My heart beats for the man, and at the same time, I feel like I’m sliding into a sadness I will never be able to escape. If Father never allows our union, I would rather be alone than be with a man my soul does not yearn for.

  I worry I am destined to be alone and live a life without love.

  Chapter Twelve

  Einarr

  “How can I help you, Sir Troy?”

  “Don’t take that tone with me,” he hisses.

  “What tone would that be?”

  I barely suppress my grin. Calling him ‘Sir’ instead of ‘Lord’ most definitely got under his skin.

  He kicks his horse in the ribs, and the beast takes a few steps forward until he is nose to nose with Jasmine. “The one that says that you’re better than me.”

  I shake my head and sigh from exasperation this man causes me. “I do not think that. But as of right now, I think I am more noble than you.”

  “What do you know of nobility? You think because you have a few scars on your body that you know of nobility?” Troy barks out sarcastic laughter. “You know nothing of the sort. You know nothing of needing to do what you must to survive.”

  He has no idea of all I know.

  “What do you want?” I ask, getting tired of his encounters with me. They are starting to become redundant and slightly annoying. “If you want to do something, now is the time. I’m tired of this dance we are playing.”

  “I’m here to warn you away from my daughter.”

  “You’ve done that already.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, aggravated.

  “My daughter deserves better than a cold-blooded killer. She deserves more than to be seen with someone like you.”

  “What do you know of me to judge me?”

  He clenches his jaw and growls, “I know enough.”

  “I respect your desire to protect your daughter. I do. It’s honorable, but I will say this, I will not tolerate your disrespect for much longer. I haven’t killed you yet because Thyra would be devastated. But when it comes to the point of making good on my name, I will cut your heart out and feed it to the wolves,” I warn, making sure he is understanding my intention.

  “You think you can kill me?”

  “I know I can. I’ve killed bigger men. Better men. Over less. So if I were you, I’d watch your own tone, Sir Troy.”

  “Stay away from her. I won’t warn you again.”

  “Shouldn’t that be up to Lady Thyra to decide?”

  My question earns me a knife directed at my throat. “Friend or foe, no one gets near my daughter unless I allow it. Do you understand?”

  The beast inside me starts to rise. The one that begs for chaos and blood. I push against the blade. The tip of the sharp sword pricks my skin. A thin trickle of blood runs down my neck, and Troy’s eyes widen for just a second, shocked that I would harm myself on purpose.

  What he doesn’t know is it doesn’t hurt me in the slightest. I feel nothing. I’ve had so much pain from a sword; it feels normal now.

  “Never shall I understand a father’s way of making his daughter unhappy. If you wish to kill me, it will be the only way you can make me stay away from her. You can try. I promise on the goddess of this land that it will take more than your blade to kill me.”

  “I will do whatever it takes. My daughter deserves all the riches. Something you cannot give. I won’t let her live in that hut you call a home. She deserves a castle. She needs whatever she is allowed to desire.”

  “Awfully bold of you to assume you know what she desires.” I front my actual reaction. I know he’s right. She does deserve all of that. And if I ever had the opportunity, I will work my entire life to make sure she has the life she wants. “And if you wish to settle this like men, I’m happy to battle you in front of the entire realm.”

  He knows that he will lose if that is what it comes to. He is putting on a brave face for his daughter, but he cannot compare to a warrior like me. He does not have the experience. I am not saying he does not have the ability. The only way to get to his status is to be a noble soldier, but his battles at the kingdom are different than the ones of the Viking. We are ruthless. We will kill all until the rivers run red.

  We will gain scars that will stay with us forever.

  He drops his blade and kicks his horse again, galloping in the direction he came from. I let out a relieved breath, but my brow furrows with worry. I do not wish to fight him, ever. He pisses me off. And he is being a real arse about this, but I never want to cause Thyra pain. And killing her father? She would hate me.

  And any chance of gaining her love will be gone, and I cannot take that risk. I will have to learn to live with his hatred. My hand reaches for my neck, and when I pull my fingers back, I glance down to see a bit of red liquid on my flesh. It isn’t a big deal. It’s just another mark to add to the collection. I am careless with my body— with my life. But to be a good warrior, sometimes that is what it takes.

  It’s easy to do because the only person that will truly miss me is Grim. I have no lover to warm my bed or children that will miss me. For me to toss myself over a roaring fire makes better sense than, say, Grim doing it. He has a wife and a child on the way. A kingdom to rule.

  I am Warlord, aye, but the title means nothing without a family to pass it on to.

  My mind drifts to Lady Thyra. I wish she could be the one to change all that for me. But I was born with a sword in my hands, and I will most likely die with one in them, too.

  Sighing, I look across the darkening forest and watch the last colors from the sun disappear behind the trees. The stars are out now, twinkling like rare gems. The moon is full, shining its light down onto the field to provide an ethereal glow. I’m in no hurry to get back when the sky is looking so beautiful. It’s nights like this that make me want to live life a little slower, to enjoy the smaller things, the simple things that the world offers so freely.

  I do not take enough time for myself. I’m so worried about everyone and everything else around me, I have never been able to truly live on my terms. I want to enjoy my life. I want to meet a woman, settle down, have kids, and not fight for the rest of my life. It is getting exhausting.

  Jasmine blows out a heavy breath that makes her lips shake when I kick her sides. We take our time walking. The tall grass brushes my legs as Jasmine tramples it with her heavy body. I can smell the lavender in the nearby field. It reminds me of Thyra.

  “I have it bad for her, Jasmine,” I tell her, as if she can understand me. She swooshes her tail, and the long hair nearly slaps my forearm. “I know, I know. I must tell her, but she has that party coming up, the one I’m banned from, and all those men are going to be there for her. I can always kill all of them and take her. I don’t know how she would feel about it, but it would make this situation a lot easier.”

  She neighs.

  “Come on, let’s get home. On with it!”

  The words spur Jasmine to a quick gallop. It’s one of the few things I say that she does u
nderstand, and when she hears it, she nearly flies with speed. Her hooves pound against the thick earth. The wind stings my face and blows through my hair. I hold onto the reins tight as Jasmine carries me home.

  Night has fallen by the time I make it to the lavender fields next to the castle.

  “Whoa,” I croon at Jasmine to slow her down.

  I get her to the stable, take off her saddle, feed and water her, and pat her thick neck, “Thanks for being a loyal beast. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Leaving, I lock her stall door and trudge up the hill back to the castle. I need to check on Abigale, but first I may take a hot bath. It’s been a long day.

  Crow is guarding the door. A man who thrives off the night. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he is the mystical creature our parents and their parents before us told all the kids. A vampire. The thought makes me chuckle. I am going mad. I need to sleep.

  “Crow,” I greet him.

  “Warlord Einarr. Glad to see you back in one piece.”

  “You arse! I just searched the entire South border and you are here,” Grim yells from behind me.

  “Why were you out searching for me? I’m fine. Always am.”

  “Lord Troy,” he says simply. “Crow,” he pushes past the big guard, sweating and breathing hard. “I must have just missed you. I’m glad he didn’t do anything stupid.”

  “Just a friendly conversation, Grim.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Einarr? Is that you?” Lady Thyra calls from the medical corridor doorway.

  “I’ll see you later. I’m going to go see my wife.”

  “Aye, tell her hello for me.”

  I watch Grim takes the steps fast, as I rush over to Lady Thyra. She doesn’t seem injured. Why is she in the medical cabin?

  “Are you sick?” I ask, looking her body up and down. What a beautiful body it is.

  “I’m fine. Abigale is resting. I stayed with her. She is very frail.”

  I nod, knowing that the wee one has a long recovery ahead. “Aye, she is.”

  “She is in one of your shirts. She has only been asking for you.”

  “Really?” I lift my hand and push a stray red hair behind her ear. Even her ears are pretty. Not too big, and they curve to a small point. Almost elven. “Is she the only one?” My voice lowers with hope and a bit of nerves. I cannot believe I asked that. I can’t seem to curb my tongue around the beauty.