Chapter Twenty

“Queen Sophie used her energy, money and knowledge of administration to become a successful estate owner and ran a prosperous lending enterprise. When her own son was in trouble financially, she was able to lend money to the Danish King, and Christian IV became one of her biggest debtors.” When the Dowager-Queen died in 1631, she was the wealthiest woman in Europe at the time.
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“Your Majesty, we are friends of your daughter’s.” Ella sat straight in the chair provided, her arms moving to emphasize her words. “She’s our patroness for our school and orphanage. We have visited and exchanged Hogmanay gifts.”

“I sent her a beautiful ebony mare,” Cait added, “which she rides daily.”

“Queen Anne and I have spent time walking through the wildflowers around Girnigoe,” Hannah said. “My brothers”—she shook her head—“our clan, plan no overthrow of Queen Anne’s reign. We are content with residing in Caithness away from court and venturing forth only when our king calls us to do so.”

“Like when our men captured the traitor, Robert Stewart, the Earl of Orkney, for King James,” Cait said. “He is your enemy, Your Majesty, threatening the strength of King James’s reign, not the Sinclairs.”

“And what of these alliances your brothers have formed with other clans?” Sophie asked and ticked them off on her long fingers. “Clans Mackay, Sutherland, Gunn, Oliphant, Campbells. Their armies number in the tens of thousands.”

“They are loyal first to King James and your daughter,” Hannah said. She wasn’t certain of this, but she surely wasn’t going to question it now. Gideon worked to foster personal relationships with these clans where King James did not. But no discussions of taking over the throne had occurred since their father had died three years ago. At least none Hannah had heard.

Ella folded her hands in her lap, meeting the dowager-queen’s gaze calmly. “Any alliances are made so that King James can call up added troops to battle against threats to Scotland. A united country of strong warriors is needed to ensure the safety of your daughter. Turning the Sinclair Clan against her by this…” She indicated Hannah. “This will not be received well and will reflect against your daughter, not for her.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “You are saying my interference will hurt my daughter, not save her from civil war?”

“Yes,” Hannah said. This woman’s meddling could bloody Scotland as well as turn her Wolf Warriors against the Danish crown.

The three women stared at Sophie across from them on her throne. Hannah tapped the arm of her own chair with a fingernail. “Right now, out on the field beyond your walls, a battle may be commencing. It will spark a civil war on Scottish soil when word returns there that King James’s most powerful warriors have been ambushed and slaughtered by his wife’s mother, leaving Scotland weakened and ready for a successful invasion of our shores.”

Sophie frowned, her already thin lips nearly disappearing. “Or your brothers can safely return home,” she looked to Cait and Ella, “with their wives, knowing that their sister is treated well here in Denmark.”

“As a prisoner.”

“As a wife,” Sophie countered. She nodded to Peter Kaas. “To a wealthy and kind member of our government and gentry.”

The man nodded to Hannah, and her stomach slithered as if filled with serpents. The thought of sharing a bed with the man, letting him touch her as Erik had, was unthinkable without a bout of nausea. Hannah’s face snapped back to Sophie. “You were going to force Iselin to wed him first.” Did Erik know trading her for his sister meant condemning her to marriage to the chancellor?

“Yes,” Sophie said. “My Wolf Warrior general knew that Peter would marry Iselin or you.” She tipped her head back and forth. “Erik Halverson’s love for his only remaining family ensured he would succeed in his mission.”

Hannah’s breath caught with the dowager-queen’s words. For a moment, she couldn’t swallow, her mouth dry. Erik knew she was to wed Peter? She felt her cheeks fill with heat and looked at Peter. Had he been disappointed that Iselin was traded? She would have been more biddable than Hannah. “Don’t you wish to have some say in your bride?”

He smiled. “Either woman will be kept well and bring me joy.” He talked of Iselin and her as if they were mares.

Hannah snorted. “I will not bring you joy.” She looked at Sophie. “I’m not a maiden and might be with child.” The words were out, but Hannah felt no embarrassment over using this weapon. And it could be true. She’d been with Erik more than once, and he hadn’t withdrawn before releasing. “I would bring an illegitimate child to the union.”

“Peter is not cruel, are you?” Sophie asked, nonplussed.

“No, Your Majesty.” He smiled at Hannah.

“You will take responsibility for any child,” Sophie continued.

He inclined his head dutifully. “And we will have children of our own.” The mild temper jolted Hannah more than any glare. They acted as if Hannah was already married to the round, middle-aged chancellor with the fuzzy caterpillar perched upon his upper lip. That it was all inevitable and they merely waited for her to come around to it. Was there a reverend hiding behind the drapes ready to pounce out and proceed with the nuptials?

“In Scotland,” Ella said, her words terse, “we do not force women to wed where they do not want.”

“No?” Sophie said, ignoring a serving maid who entered with some form of liquid refreshment that she sat on the sideboard. “I could name numerous marriage alliances where the bride was unwilling.” She tipped her head to Ella. “In fact, I hear that your courtship with Cain Sinclair was not desired. That he actually locked you up in a tower until you agreed to wed.” She played with a loose gold ring on one finger. “And yet you wed him to keep peace. That is what Hannah Sinclair will do.”

Sophie looked at Hannah. “Peter could lock you up in a tower if that would make acquiescing more agreeable.”

Erik had told Hannah not to despair, but what did that mean? Did he know that Peter was mild and kind, someone who wouldn’t hurt her despite her distaste? Was that why she shouldn’t despair? Hannah released her hot, angry breath. “Nothing will make me agreeable to wedding anyone here or remaining in Denmark. Nothing.”

“Not even the lives of your brothers?” Sophie countered. She stared hard at Hannah, her rosy cheeks flanked by the high ruff collar. “One word from me, and a man will ride out there to the field to order my Wolf Warriors to kill the Sinclair horsemen and those sailing with them. I believe the count is twenty-two hundred Danes to about one hundred fifty Scots. They will—”

“The Wolf Warriors are Norwegian, not Danish,” Hannah interrupted.

Sophie’s lips thinned, and she continued. “My warriors will slaughter the men and bring the women to me.” She nodded to Ella and Cait as if they discussed their admittance to a royal fete instead of murder.

“But if you wed Peter, Lady Hannah,” she continued, “your whole family will be allowed to leave peacefully.”

“You think by forcing me to stay here you can control my brothers?”

Sophie smiled as if delighted, the edge of white teeth exposed. “I do indeed.”

Hannah showed her own teeth with her grimace as if she’d stepped in horse dung.

Sophie’s smile faded a bit, her face softening. “You think me an uhyre, Lady Hannah, a monster, but once you have a child of your own…well, you will understand how a mother can be a monster to protect her daughter who fears for her kingdom, husband, and her own life.”

“Queen Anne said that?” Ella asked. “That she fears us?”

“Your brothers and their power.” Sophie lifted a letter from a small stack beside her. “That your clan will lead Scotia to civil war.”

“May I see it?” Cait asked.

Sophie handed it to Peter who set it into Cait’s hands. “’Tis written in Danish,” Cait said.

“Of course,” Sophie said. “’Tis her natural language with her mother.”

“So, we have no way of knowing if you speak the truth,” Hannah said.

Peter clasped his hands before his belly as if he was prone to resting them there. “I have already hired a tutor for you, Lady Hannah. You will be able to read our language soon.”

Hannah stood suddenly, fury at her helplessness leaping up inside her. She stared at Peter. “You will be dead by my hand before I can read the greeting.”

His calm smile dissolved like ink from a letter dropped in a puddle. “But I could make you happy.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I will not be happy with you, nor being here. I will perish, and you will have no reassurances then or control of my brothers.” Hannah turned her gaze to Sophie. “Once I am dead, they will gather those tens of thousands of warriors to war against Denmark no matter what Queen Anne says. You and your chancellor will bring war to your shores and turn King James’s loyal warriors against him and his queen.”

Before anyone could move, Hannah snatched her sgian dubh from her pocket and, stepping forward, hurled it through the air. It turned once and landed with a thwack, point first, into a portrait of some royal ancestor behind Peter. The blade vibrated. Peter’s face paled, and his hands pressed hard against his chest over his heart. Several guards ran to stand in front of Sophie, shields held ready.

Let them see Hannah’s true mettle as the sister of the Four Horsemen. Rarely did she let her temper rage, but she tossed Gideon’s cautious behavior aside and embraced Joshua’s wild fury.

Hannah stepped to the side so she could peek at an angle around the barrier of guards. She bared her teeth again. “We Highlanders will never acquiesce agreeably. Perhaps Queen Anne hasn’t been in Scotland long enough to write about that in one of her letters.”

Dowager-Queen Sophie stood, pushing aside the guard who tried to block her in case Hannah had a second blade. She still had three tucked around her body that Ella and Kára had given her as they’d mounted at the docks.

“And you, Lady Hannah, do not understand the loyalty of my Wolf Warriors, who will block any threat to my realm, slicing through any foreign power as soon as it lands on our shores. I will have you locked up if you remain a danger here, but here you will stay.”

“You will have to kill me to make me stay.” Hannah leaned slightly forward and would have charged up to Sophie if her guard wasn’t between them. How dare this woman, who had little backing from Denmark’s government, move her and her brothers around on her political chessboard, ready to sacrifice all of them to keep her daughter protected from imagined threats.

Hannah’s temper pushed her tongue onward despite feeling Ella’s or Cait’s restraining hand on her shoulder. “How loyal do you think your most powerful Wolf Warrior will be when he finds out you are responsible for the death of his unborn child?”

For the first time in the confrontation, Dowager-Queen Sophie’s confident mask slipped, leaving her with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Yes,” Hannah said. “I may carry Erik Halverson’s babe.” Her face held firm triumph even as her insides quaked with warning. She’d revealed a secret that might mark Erik as a traitor to his country.

…

Erik watched the four huge Scottish warriors with steely readiness. Mounted and full of biblical reference, they stood equidistant apart along the docks.

This was not what he wanted. He’d managed to keep his weakened loyalty hidden as he retrieved Iselin, trading Hannah away as if she were merely a pawn in Sophie’s game. He’d told Hannah not to despair, but that disease of hopelessness threatened him now. In the face of capture, Hannah had been composed and courageous, her large blue eyes open to the foreign world of Kronborg as he released her to Peter Kaas.

You know Sophie will make her wed Peter in my place. Iselin’s words, when she came to his side, had shot straight into Erik’s chest like lethal arrow tips. Aye, he’d known it, but he hadn’t told Hannah. Partly because it would make the situation harder and partly because he had no intention of letting the wedding happen.

Now, seated on their horses before the Sinclair Horsemen, the silence was thick as Sten, Frode, and Nial waited by his side. Cain Sinclair wore a gold crown on the white horse, Joshua Sinclair nearly foamed at the mouth in gnashing anger on red, Gideon Sinclair held a lethal stare from his seat on the black horse, and Bàs stared out through the empty holes of the skull from the back of his green horse.

“We will battle the four Wolf Warrior leaders,” Cain called across. “For our wives and sister.”

“We will not fall,” Erik said, “but if we do, my army will slaughter you.”

Frode raised his voice. “Only Trix and Libby will survive to take word back to your people about what has occurred.”

“And the mothers and babes,” Sten added quietly.

The Sinclairs had ushered the girls and the two remaining wives onto one of the Sinclair ships docked behind the Horsemen. Erik saw them, sad faced, at the rail, watching this prelude to battle. Fy faen. Hannah didn’t want them to battle. Despite it being his profession, the overwhelming numbers that would see the Sinclairs easily killed left only a sourness on Erik’s tongue.

Cain yanked a bow out from behind him and began to talk, his voice booming in the hushed tension moments before the break of battle. In precaution, the front row of Erik’s warriors lifted their shields, peering over them at the spectacle.

“I watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals. Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder, ‘Come!’ I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest.”

“Hannah and the girls are right. We need words like that,” Sten said.

“Hold your tongue,” Nial said.

Joshua held his sword high, his chest muscles swelling, since he’d taken off his tunic to show off the etched pigment on his skin. “When the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, ‘Come!’ Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make people kill each other. To him was given a large sword.”

“Foking hell,” Frode whispered in Bokmål.

Faen. The Horsemen were using the words to strike fear as surely as their swords could strike. Hannah was right, the resounding lines from the bible sent prickles up his nape. Erik had to do something to break the spell. The fear would dissolve from his warriors as soon as they remembered the numbers behind them, and Hannah’s brothers would die. He must stop it.

When Gideon began his recitation of Revelations, Erik spoke the words at the same time, his voice as powerful as the Horseman’s. “When the Lamb opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, ‘Come!’ I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand.” Erik was seated on a black horse as large as Gideon’s and raised his hand as if a scale sat there.

Gideon stared coldly at him and didn’t finish the words about not damaging the oil and the wine. Maybe he left that part out normally. They weren’t threatening.

“When the Lamb opened the fourth seal,” Bàs started, and Erik chimed in, his voice full of power. “I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, ‘Come!’ I looked, and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named—”

Bàs said “Death.”

But Erik yelled, “Bàs Sinclair, a courageous warrior from Scotia, not Heaven.”

The counter name pulled faces toward Erik, faces of his men and the Horsemen.

“Says Erik Halverson,” Joshua said, “who will lose his jack first and then his life today.”

Gideon said something to his brother, his face tight with irritation.

Erik leaned the slightest forward in his saddle, and his black horse took a step. With an underhand toss, Erik threw the scrap he’d been holding with his reins at Cain. Cain caught the ripped plaid from the air, holding it by the end. It was the knotted strip that Hannah had flashed before Bàs earlier.

“Your sister wanted you to have that,” Erik said. “She’s a wise woman, your sister. A woman I will not abandon.”

His words were like a small ripple through his men, starting with Nial, who turned to look at him. “We are riding against the Danish crown?” Nial asked, his voice lowered.

Erik didn’t answer as he held Cain’s steely gaze. Let Hannah’s eldest brother see the truth in it.

“Ships!” yelled a voice in Bokmål.

Erik tore his gaze away from Cain to look at the harbor behind them. The hulking shapes of three galleons sailed toward the mouth of the Kattegat Strait. A yellow cross on a blue field. The vibrant Swedish flags flapped from the main masts over the sails.

“I knew they’d come,” a wiry, young Sinclair warrior that Erik remembered as Osk said. “A thousand Swedes who are happy for an excuse to bloody Denmark and take Kronborg Castle.” These last words he yelled in Norm, an ancient language of the isles north of Scotia that was close to Nynorsk, a Norwegian dialect spoken along the coast.

Erik doubted the three ships held a thousand warriors; two hundred maximum, unless more were following, or ferries were being readied to carry ground troops across the channel.

Cain didn’t look behind him but kept his gaze on Erik. “The Sinclairs have allies outside of Scotland, Wolf Warrior.”

“We slaughter Swedes on a daily basis, Highlander,” Frode called out. “’Tis nothing new to us.”

Enough of this posturing. Erik inhaled deeply. “Hannah wished for us to have a discussion before we act. I would honor her with that action.”

“We’ve already discussed the situation,” Bàs said.

Erik kept his gaze on Cain. “A discussion with all the Horsemen.”

Joshua shifted in his seat, his bay-colored horse standing still. “Because we now have like numbers ye—”

Gideon cut him off with curt words in Gaelic. Perhaps it was Erik’s imagination, but Joshua, the great Horseman of War, looked to have chill bumps on his bare skin even though his words and eyes were full of fire. He couldn’t imagine the man being frightened. Was he cold?

Bàs said something in Gaelic, and Gideon nodded once. Cain kept his gaze on Erik. “We will speak. Your four and my four.”

“In the meetinghouse,” Erik said, tipping his head to the structure.

“Osk,” Gideon called, and the wiry man turned his head. “Greet the Swedes. Tell them to remain on their ships.”

“Think they will listen?” Nial asked.

Sten snorted. “Once you bring the Swedes here, there is no stopping them.”

“Kára,” Joshua said and the woman, who stood in trousers with the girls on the deck, met his gaze. “Help Osk hold them off.” He looked back at Erik and Sten. “She has a convincing nature.”

Erik dismounted and spoke to his five other generals who had kept his men in line while he was away. “Send a runner to our forces over the ridge. Bring half of them here. If that devil Captain Larsen orders an attack, I want them picked off as they land their ships. Leave the other half south of Kronborg to keep the sound free of more Swedish troops trying to cross over there.”

The five men nodded and turned away. “Aksel,” he called to a slim warrior in his top ranks. The man ran up to him. “Ride to Kronborg and let them know Sweden is bringing their troops to shore in support of the Horsemen.” The man nodded and ran for his horse.

Things were out of hand. No longer was this a mother worried about her daughter in a foreign country; this was war on Danish soil. If Sophie wasn’t the loving mother of young King Christian, she might be tried for treason herself.

Erik led his three men up the steps of the meetinghouse. They walked inside to see Patrick Stewart pacing along the back wall.

“I demand to be released!” he yelled.

“I release you then,” Erik said with a wave of his hand.

Patrick stopped, a look of astonishment on his face. After a pause, he strode across the floor to the door and halted with a small jump as Joshua filled the doorway. The Horseman’s frown relaxed into a wicked grin as he came face-to-face with Lord Robert’s son.

“Greetings, Patrick Stewart,” Joshua said with serpent-like maliciousness. The Highlander didn’t even need to use his gruesome threats to make the dandy, who’d terrorized his people on both Shetland and Orkney, look like he might piss himself.

Patrick jumped back. “Father said ye were alive,” he said, but his face paled as if he watched a ghost before him.

“I am come back from the grave to see ye gutted,” Joshua said.

Patrick retreated to the back of the room, his eyes wild. “I have money, Sinclair, money ye can use to buy back your sister from these people.” He indicated Erik with an outstretched hand.

“Dowager-Queen Sophie is the richest woman in Christendom,” Erik said. “Your money means nothing to her.” Even after paying his army from her own coffers, she still had enough to keep the Danish government running smoothly for her son, King Christian. Another reason she might be forgiven for bringing war to her people.

Joshua stalked into the room, one step at a time toward Patrick until he grabbed him by the tunic. “Ye’re not so brave without your brute now, are ye?” Joshua said in his face. “Who decays with a stinking seal in my grave.”

“Leave him alive,” Gideon said as he walked through the doorway. “King James wants to put him on trial with his father.”

Joshua continued to glare in Patrick’s eyes, his fist under the man’s chin as he nearly lifted him from the floor. “Let him go, Joshua,” Cain said as he followed inside with Bàs and Erik’s three men. Joshua released him with a shove against his chest and pivoted as if he needed to put some distance between them before he lost control and skewered him.

“Go sit over there.” Gideon pointed to a corner for Patrick, and the man hurried to sit on the floor as if he were a school lad sent to the corner.

Erik’s three men stood in a line beside him. No one had removed their weapons, but hands remained empty, at least for now. Cain and his brothers lined up opposite him in their own order with Cain across from Erik.

“Hannah wished for us to discuss before we act,” Erik said. “So, hear me out.” With a nod from Cain, Erik explained as succinctly as possible how Iselin was taken while he was fighting the Swedes on the border. How she would be forced to wed the chancellor if the Sinclair Horsemen weren’t made controllable. “Taking Hannah was our mission ordered by Dowager-Queen Sophie and her chancellor, Peter Kaas. Once I confirmed she was important to her brothers.” Erik’s gaze slid across to Bàs. “Luckily, one of you came back earlier from Orkney, and I could verify the love between sister and brother that your wives expressed. Hannah Sinclair is beloved by all.”

Bàs’s frown intensified. “And we will kill to get her back.”

Erik nodded, thinking of Iselin. “I would, too.”

Joshua shrugged. “But ye didn’t, did ye? Instead of marching into Kronborg to take your sister back, ye sailed to Scotland to take our innocent sister.” He stressed the word with a sneer.

“We could have waited until you returned from Orkney and killed the Four Horsemen,” Sten said, his arms crossed. “But ’twas forbidden.”

“You could have tried,” Bàs said with quiet authority, “but ye would have died doing so.”

Gideon squinted slightly. “If she worries about us taking over Scotland from her daughter, why were you forbidden to kill us in Scotland?”

Erik studied the Horseman of Justice, the brother with the most cunning from Peter’s report. “She doesn’t wish to take you from protecting Scotland and her daughter. She wants to be able to control you.”

“My brothers barely control me,” Joshua murmured on an exhale, but his look said otherwise. Worry sat heavy in his brow. “Fok,” he snapped. It seemed that even the most volatile brother could be controlled to protect his sister.

Gideon held up his hand to quiet Joshua but looked at Erik. “I know King James. He’s proud and will not be happy if your dowager-queen is in charge of his best warriors. He would question our loyalty out of his lack of confidence and his worry, but he depends upon our strength to keep Scotland strong against invaders.” Gideon shook his head. “Nay, James will not like Sophie’s interference on behalf of his wife.”

Before Erik could respond, Cain’s quiet words caught him like a bird in a net. “Hannah will kill herself rather than weaken her clan.”

Erik felt his blood surge but breathed evenly. “Sophie plans to lock her up until she’s convinced Hannah won’t harm herself.” Erik swallowed hard. “And…if by chance she is with child, Hannah would not endanger it.”

Was this the reason Sophie wanted Hannah wed? If she remained pregnant, she’d want to protect her child. The thought of Peter forcing himself on her made Erik’s jaw clench. Suddenly, the sociable man, rumored to be kind, turned sinister in Erik’s mind. Aye, he’d have to die if he forced Hannah into bed.

Tension swelled with the silence in the room as Erik’s blood heated. His hands fisted, and he yearned to roar.

“Maybe this is why ye stole my sister’s innocence,” Bàs said, his words soft, belying the promise of death Erik saw in his eyes. “Because ye knew she wouldn’t harm herself if she thought an innocent life might be growing in her?”

Joshua’s bellow covered any denial Erik might give.

“Ye foking bastard,” Joshua yelled, charging forward, his fists pulled back.