Viking Flame: Prequel to Viking Fire (3 page)

Without waiting, Bram crashed through the brush after them. He couldn’t attack the man carrying Kaireen, yet. The blade she’d snatched from Bram’s boot was now in the hands of her captor.

“Let her go.” Bram lowered his sword, but kept pursuit of the man. “She’s of no use to you.”

“The Laird Liannon’s daughter? No use?” He spat. “She’ll grant us a hefty sum for ransom, after we’re done taking turns with her.”

“Us?” Bram glanced around and three burly men with knives and one with a wood axe crept out from behind the trees to his left.
Damn Fates!
“Are there any more of you who wish to play at the end of my sword?”

The man holding Kaireen tossed her down on the forest floor. Her rumbled gown had risen, showing off her white calves. Bile rose in his throat as he thought of these men touching her… of anyone laying their filthy hands on her.

Payment would be his sword if they wouldn’t listen to reason.

“Why would you treat the Laird’s daughter so? Has he not given you lands and—”

The biggest man in the group and wielding an axe, laughed. “He’s given us nothing but taxes and misery.”

“Then your fight is with him.” Bram took a step closer to the man. First he had to take out the biggest threat, then it would be the slime hovering over Kaireen. He was betting that the man wouldn’t harm Kaireen unless he thought he had no choice. She was his bartering tool.

“While our families’ starve, they sit back in their stone walls and practice needlepoint and such.”

Bram shook his head. “That’s not true. We came here today with a wagon full of food for you—for the poor and hungry.”

“You lie.” But the man’s axe arm dropped at bit.

“Go and check.” He pointed with his blade back to the clearing. “We’ll wait.”

“Don’t believe him, Patrick,” the man next to Kaireen said. “It’s a trick.”

Patrick shifted on his feet between going and staying, his axe lowered.

“Look. I’ll put away my weapon until you return.” Bram sheathed his sword. “In good faith. Now, all I ask is that you check the wagon and see if I speak the truth.”

Patrick glanced over at his friend who waved him on. Then the man tore through the forest.

“For a Viking, you seem interested in this lass more so than your life.” The man ran the dull edge of the blade down Kaireen’s exposed leg. “How much would you give for her?”

Your life
. “Not sure.” He scratched his beard. “The Laird has two other daughters… maybe he cares little for this one.”

“Oh, no, rumor has it she’s his favorite.” The man farthest away nodded his head in earnest. “I witnessed the Laird himself giving this one archery and a few sword lessons a few years back as if she were a boy.”

If she’d been a Viking, she’d have had the choice to pick up weapons if she chose and become a shieldmaiden. If she was good enough, Freya might select her to become a Valkyrie.

“So.” Bram shrugged. “Maybe he was bored and amused himself with training her.”

There was a rustle behind him, and he half turned, keeping one eye on the men before him. Patrick was back, but this time he’d brought a dozen more men with weapons. And none of them looked happy.

*

Bram rolled his shoulders and drew his weapon. “Did you find the food in the wagon?”

“Nay.” Patrick gripped his sword in a white clenched fist. “We found an empty wagon.”

“The food was there.” He didn’t want to kill all these men. And he would to keep Kaireen safe. Instead of giving in to the surrounding men, he squared his shoulders and danced forward. In one quick move, he yanked the dagger from his boot and sent it sailing. It sliced the nearest man across his thigh.

Blood darkened the man’s hoses as he seethed in agony and collapsed to his knees.

Patrick raced forward, and Bram sidestepped at the last instant. Patrick’s axe lodged into an oak on the other side of Bram. Two more men raced forward, Bram kicked one in the knee, crippling him and blocked the other’s swing in midair.

“Enough!” the man holding Kaireen shouted. “Spill any more blood, and she loses hers.”

A blade pressed against Kaireen’s throat. She still hadn’t roused.

“What do you want?” Bram asked the men around him panting for breath. “Release her and I vow I will give you all a reward more precious to me than anything else.” Right now, that would be their death.

“How do we know we can trust you, a foreigner?” one man in the crowd near a spindly elm tree asked.

“I vow upon Odin and Thor, you will have my reward by winter’s end.” True, once Kaireen was safe he could come back here and kill them all… but he wanted to give them a chance… a choice. Give the reward too soon, they’d think it too easy and not worth anything.

“Gold from Laird Liannon?”

Once he got Kaireen back safely, he could explain to the Laird what happened here and surely the man would give him a jeweled sword to dispatch these men.

“And jewels.” Another man shouted from behind him.

Bram nodded.

“Agreed.” The man removed the blade from Kaireen’s flesh.

When the Irishman brushed her hair and then licked her face, Bram bellowed and crashed into the bastard. His hands choking the man before he realized what he was doing. Men yanked at his arms, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Soon there was a crunching sound as the man stopped struggling and died. Bram leaned back on his heels. Sweat trickled down his back. This was the first time in his life he’d killed someone because of another—a woman. He’d defended women before and Morga many times, but never in a way that he’d lost himself.

The men surrounded him with weapons raised and ready to kill him. Elva strode forward past a peeling oak tree and behind her were dozens of women. Some old, some young, some round with a child and carrying another on their hip. All of the women glared at the men.

“You saw what happened. And what this one,” Elva kicked the dead man, “wanted to do to the Laird’s daughter who brought you food. Who constantly has had me sneak out food to bring to you all. This is how you repay her kindness? With rape and murder?”

The women shuffled through the forest. One or more of them coming up beside a man holding a weapon.

Without words, one by one the men lowered their weapons.

“Now.” Elva spun to Bram. “None of these men have harmed or laid a hand on Kaireen. Do we have your vow you will not come after them for retribution?”

Bram didn’t know if he could forgive these people. If not for him… and Elva, they’d have gone along with this fool. The thought of Kaireen hurt made his fingernails dig into his palms.

“Bram,” Elva said. “Do you forgive these men? They did not lay a finger on Kaireen.”

Part of him wanted to slay them all. They had sided with the dead man against Bram and Kaireen. But as he looked at the women, babies, and children next to them, he knew he could not harm them.

“Two conditions and I won’t come back to finish them off.” He rose. “They are not to harm a woman—any woman for as long as they live. And sons will be taught to respect women.” Despite Viking women being allowed to divorce their husband if treated unfairly, Bram knew these Irish would be appalled just at the two rules he’d given them.

One man nodded. Others glanced to their wives or mothers, before giving a brief nod. Two scowled and the young women near them backed up.

“If you disagree, speak.” Bram waved his arms out. “I’ll not hold it against you.”

“Women are for making babies, cooking, and cleaning.” One of the men closest to Bram raised his scythe. “I’ll never agree to your heathen—” He ran forward, but Bram twisted away.

“Yield. There need not be any bloodshed.”

“I will not listen to your pagan lies!” The man charged forward the scythe’s blade brushed across Bram’s thigh.

He ignored the stinging pain. “Don’t make me—”

The man roared and swiped at Bram again, but he ducked at the last minute.

Bram thrust his sword forward and it caught the man in the neck before he could raise his weapon again.

“Alas, I said I would not hold your words against you… I said nothing of my sword.”

Then he sneered and dropped the scythe bringing out a small dagger and thrust it toward Bram’s chest. Bram stabbed the man in the neck and blocked the man’s strike with his forearm against the man’s wrist.

The man crumbled in a heap. One of the elderly women closest to him spat on his dead body. His wife looked around as if in shock.

“B-but who will take care of me?” the young woman wailed.

“Men die all the time. With disease, in battle… treat this woman as a respected widow.” Bram took a step toward the other man who disagreed with him. “Either share his fate or take this woman as your sister and treat her as a precious gem. Your choice.”

The crowd did not move or speak as Bram waited for the man’s answer. Bram would be happy to dispatch this man. Then Bram wouldn’t worry about him fulfilling his vows to protect this widow. But he wanted the weeping woman to have security. She was not a shieldmaiden.

What if Kaireen’s husband died (if she were married)? Bram glanced down at her wild red hair. No, she would not snivel and whimper like this widow. No doubt, she’d rule her house and lands however she pleased… like a Valkyrie would.

The thought of Kaireen standing with her back straight and held high no matter what happened, brought a smile to his lips.

“Answer me honestly,” Bram said, staring at the man, “for Elva or I will check on you often to ensure you do as promised.”

The man swallowed, but after his wife’s hand landed on his arm, he nodded. “I agree.”

Elva clapped her hands together and the crowed seemed to let out a breath in unison. Bram sheathed his sword and then scooped up unconscious Kaireen into his arms. She sighed and he nearly tripped over a root. Her scent of rose, lye, and wildness filled him. She was light, and seemed molded in his arms as if she belonged there.

And he knew that even though he’d won this battle, there were harder battles to come. First was renegotiating with Laird Liannon and Bram’s marriage contract. He couldn’t possibly marry Rebecca or anyone else when his heart pleaded for Kaireen.

*

Inside the keep, two guards snapped to attention and a young handmaid let out a squeal.

“Hush. The lot of you.” Elva pointed to a chamber and motioned Bram to carry Kaireen inside. Then she turned to a boy nearby and snatched his arm. “Go fetch Lady Liannon and no one else. And you make sure no one enters this room except her.”

The guards frowned, but nodded while the servant, as lean as a wisp, dashed down the stone hallway.

Bram laid Kaireen in her bed carved from oak with red curtains that wrapped around the poles supporting her wooden canopy. Her bed was larger than any chamber he’d slept in. A fire crackled to life suddenly as Elva bent over it. A stool sat near a window, trunk squeezed between the door and a brass mirror. And still, there was enough room to have a dozen couples dancing.

“I’ll stay with her until she wakes.” Elva pulled a stool closer to Kaireen.

“Maybe she needs a healer since she hasn’t roused yet.” Bram frowned.

“No, let her sleep. We will not tell her of what happened… or what nearly happened to her today.” Elva narrowed her eyes. “Promise it. Worrying about what might have happened would do Kaireen no good.”

Bram frowned, but nodded. “Tell me as soon as she wakes. I will return in the morning.”

“Would you like a servant to draw a bath for you in the bathing chamber? It’s about time you shaved and cleaned up for your betrothal ceremony tomorrow.”

Tomorrow?
He couldn’t marry Rebecca. Not now… not ever. While he liked the woman, she hadn’t stirred his heart and filled his mind like… Kaireen. The realization made him stumble as he turned and left her bed chambers.

*

The next morning, after Bram was escorted by two men to the bathing chamber and had shaved off his beard, washed, and trimmed his hair, he strolled through the gardens searching for Kaireen. She spoke with the little lass from the archery field that she helped with her shooting.

“Sir?” The Ewery’s apprentice wiped his hair out of his eyes. “Is that a Lochlann sword?”

“Nay.” He pulled it out to show the lad and sighed as Kaireen disappeared inside the keep. “But I’ll carve runes of protection and power in it nonetheless.”

The boy’s brown eyes crinkled around the corners as he examined it. “I would like to have a sword, but everyone says I’m too young.”

Bram handed over the sword, then after walking the boy through some swings, took the blade back. “What’s your name?”

“David.” The boy smiled.

“After I marry, I’ll sail to my homeland and by an Ulfberht sword.”

“Will you carve runes into as well?”

“I won’t need to. An Ulfberht is already stronger than any other blade.” He sheathed his sword. “It could slice through this one. When I get my sword,” he laid a hand on the lad’s shoulder, “I’ll give you this one.”

“Thank you and blessings.” The boy’s face lit up. “And may you have many children.”

Bram called back the same as the boy tore through the gardens.

Where had she gone? He wanted to follow after her, but had been delayed talking with David. He wanted to speak with Kaireen. Maybe let her know his intent before he approached her parents. Today was the day of his marriage to Rebecca, but he needed to break or rather alter the contract. He couldn’t wait on Kaireen. If he had any hope of changing the Laird’s mind, he had to act now. He couldn’t get Kaireen and how she’d felt in his arms out of his mind.

Outside his chamber, he paused when his door stood open. Hand on his sword hilt, he stepped inside and bumped into Elva.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked her.

“Adding logs to your fire. It gets cold here at night and takes too much time to rebuild a fire when a log or two will help keep it going and keep the chamber warm.”

He glanced behind her and blinked seeing embers, then a fire snapped into place. But he shrugged it off. “Have you spoken with her yet?”

“I speak to lots of women.” She cocked her head to the side. “Do you mean the Lady’s servant Rhiannon? The woman is near my age, I’d think you’d want a young—”

Instead of shouting, he ran a hand through his hair. Thor help him, but the woman tested his patience. “Kaireen.” He took a step toward her. “Her kindness and beauty—”

“Are nothing compared to her stubbornness and hatred of your kind.”

Aye, he knew that from her conversation with Elva. Still, he couldn’t stop his heart. He paused. “I could get her over her prejudices quickly.”

“Can you now?” Elva crossed her arms as if to hold her laughter back. “Her temper flares as strong as the red in her hair. You won’t be taming her with words or kisses.”

“I will be judge of that.”

“What of Rebecca? Your intended?”

Bram rubbed the back of his neck. True, she was kind-hearted, but she wasn’t for him. “Perhaps the Laird will take my first months’ pay and appease her father. If she’s willing, I may know someone across the sea who’d be willing to marry her.” Few would care about love and the land and a wife would be enough for them. Still, he’d make sure it was someone who would treat her well… maybe even love her in time.

Elva smiled, but it was not a comforting grin. “Speak with Laird and Lady Liannon first. Then we will see if you can pay the price.”

Inside the keep, he followed Elva up a stone stairs as rushes crushed under his boots.

At the massive polished oak doors, Elva spun to him. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? This will be only the first test you will have to pass to win her hand. Rebecca is a fine woman and will bringing you many sons. Her father and the Laird have already agreed and she could be in your bed tonight. And a son in her belly before winter.”

He shook his head. At least now, he was certain Rebecca was not the woman he wanted. Doubtful the stubborn fiery red-haired lass, Kaireen, would leap into his bed in a matter of hours or days even.

With a shrug, Elva knocked and then pushed open the massive door. On the other side stood a stern woman with a long pointed nose and not a piece of hair poking out from her head covering. A stark contrast to Elva with stray pieces of white hair floating about her round face.

“He’s here to renegotiate the contract.” Elva acted bored.

“Why?” Rhiannon, the servant’s eyes narrowed further, giving Bram the impression of a rat.

Elva shrugged.

“That is for me to discuss in private with the Laird and Lady.” Bram took a step towards the door.

How much more would Kaireen cost than Rebecca? Sure, she was the Laird’s daughter, but she appeared to be nearly past marital age. Maybe no one had won her heart either or her father waited for a more political match. The latter thought made Bram’s insides twist.

“Enter,” the Laird’s voice boomed. “Don’t stand there wasting my time.”

“Husband,” Lady Liannon called from the darkness of the chamber and bed covers ruffled. “Let him say his peace before we rule. Come, Rhiannon and light some candles so I may get a better look at our Viking stranger.” Candles flickered to life from a flint stone. The Lady looked like Kaireen except for the hair color. Hers was a light brown where her daughter’s was as red as blood.

The Laird climbed out of bed, donned a black robe, then sat down on a trunk before Bram. His stubborn lift of his chin was the same as Kaireen and his hair, though red, was not as brilliant as Kaireen’s.

“I’m Bram son of Ragnar.” He bowed. Embers burned in the hearth. “Months ago I wrote to you of an exchange: my services for land and a bride.”

“Aye. A noble bride, but not one of my daughters. Not Kaireen.” The Laird’s cheeks reddened.

The Lady Liannon exchanged a look with Rhiannon, but he couldn’t interpret its meaning.

“Apologies, my Laird… is she already betrothed to someone?” He fought not to be arrogant and his nature to draw his sword and demand he win her by combat.

The Lady put her hand on her husband’s and glanced over at Bram. “No, but she is our favorite and youngest daughter. We would not give her up so easily. Her cost is ten Rebeccas—or more so.”

“The cost is not a problem.”

Laird Liannon stood. “My daughter is not to be bought.”

Bram stole a glance at Elva from the corner of his eye as he bowed low. Her smirk made him want to cross the room and reprimand her. She knew this! Knew it would be impossible for him
alone
to pay for a Laird’s daughter. And she’d let him come all this way to play the fool.

“My Lord, I cannot stop my heart from longing to tell Kai—”

“No!” The Lady Liannon stood beside her husband. “Whatever we agree to, you must
never
tell Kaireen that you are falling in love with her. If you win her heart, and she speaks of her love for you, then and only then may you tell her of this vow which you make to me now. I will not have her heart swayed to you out of pity for you. Do you promise?”

Beside her, the Laird’s face shifted from red to purple and his teeth bared. “I do not agree to any of this! This is madness, I will not have my daughter married to a savage—a Lochlann.”

He cringed at the Gaelic curse word for his kind. “I vow, my Lady upon my life and all the god’s. And as payment for your daughter, I not only offer up my life and sword, but six of my brother’s and fourteen fellow men who are loyal to me, on my wedding, will serve you and your house.” If he could convince them all.

The Laird sat down heavily and stroked his beard. “Twenty Lochlanns?”

“Aye. We will fight Viking and rival Irish clans alike for you.”

The Laird whispered to his wife, but Bram heard his words. “Twenty of them? We wouldn’t need to fear the O’Neills, Moen, or Domhnaills. And we wouldn’t have to worry about finding her a proper suitor who’d be indebted to us.”

The Lady laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “We will announce your presence tomorrow night including your betrothal to Kaireen. Under no circumstances are you to approach or interact with Kaireen before then… or the deal is void.”

“I’ll have you married to Kaireen tomorrow.” The Laird smacked his hands together. The possibility of more men must have been the price of his daughter.

“No.” The Laird’s wife frowned. “We arranged our eldest daughter’s marriage without love… without her approval and she is miserable married to a man who chases women as if he were hunting foxes.” She tugged at her light red braid across her shoulder. “No, Kaireen should be given time to adjust.”

“How much time?” The Laird grumbled. “Let’s have them wed now, before her temper and stubbornness run him off.”

“I await your decision.” Perhaps if he gave the Laird and Lady more time to discuss this change with each other, they’d be more favorable for both him and Kaireen. He didn’t want a forced marriage either. Kaireen would need time to get used to him… to love him.

He followed Elva out of the chamber, when his name echoed in the corridor.

“Bram,” Lady Liannon called. “If we do agree to your new contract, once you sign, you will only have a fortnight to win my daughter’s heart. If you fail to do so by then… ”

“I never fail.”

But something in the Lady’s dark eyes gave him pause. Had he just signed his death warrant?