Chapter Eleven

Rothgar grunted as he swirled up from the murky blackness. Someone was shaking his shoulder. He blinked his eyes open and found himself staring at Nordskog.

“Are you all right, jarl?”

He nodded, then winced as a sharp pain shot through his skull. Bright white sparks danced in front of his eyes. Obviously he wasn’t all right. He licked his lips and tasted dried blood mixed with dirt. His left eye was partially swollen shut, and his head throbbed with every heartbeat. What the hell had happened to him?

He lay still and looked around. The sun had risen a few hours ago. Its brilliant rays streamed down on him, making his head ache worse. After a moment, he realized that he was lying in a heap at the far edge of the village. How had he gotten here? He searched his fuzzy memory. The last things he remembered were trying to strangle Karnik, getting pummeled, and then … blackness.

Nordskog extended his hand. “I’ve been looking for you since dawn. I wasn’t sure if they killed you or not.”

He clasped Nordskog’s hand and struggled to his feet. The world spun, and he wobbled unsteadily until he regained his balance. A burning pain sliced through the right half of his body. He moaned and clutched his side. The bastards had kicked in his ribs. Were they all broken? What in the name of Valhalla had happened?

“They beat you good.”

He shot Nordskog an icy glare. “I think that’s obvious.” He looked down at himself. His tunic was splattered with blood and stank like piss. Karnik’s men hadn’t been content to beat him senseless. They had also humiliated him. Careful not to move too fast, he stripped off his tunic and tossed it to the ground.

The pain in his ribs lessened a little, allowing him to take a full breath. He straightened his back and shoulders. If he moved slowly, his aching body would cooperate, but a sudden movement sent maddening pains through his brain. “Where is Odaria? Is she all right?”

Nordskog nodded. “At the gathering hall. The upstairs door is locked. They spared her—because they fear her.”

“And rightfully so. If she had discovered them beating me, Thor himself wouldn’t have been able to stay her wrath.”

“Karnik’s men were content to prey on you and the villagers last night. I was told that after you were knocked senseless, he invited all who wished to take out their rage to have at you.”

“From the way I feel, I presume many men delighted in the pleasure.”

“Ja, some did,” Nordskog replied, spitting a stream of tobacco juice on the ground. “Although most were too busy with their own enjoyments to be bothered with you.”

“I suppose I should be grateful for that,” he muttered as he headed for the center of the village.

“Where are you going?”

“To the church to speak with Brennan. I must learn if this attack on his villagers has loosened his tongue.”

“I will follow,” Nordskog said, falling into step at his side, “should words not work.”

Rothgar let his mind wander as he walked along the worn dirt path. As soon as he returned home, he’d see to it that Karnik and his men were punished for their rebellion. But what was he supposed to do in the meantime? Was there any hope of finding Orvind now?

He made a silent appeal to the gods. All he wanted was to rescue Orvind, get Odaria, and sail for home. Was that too much to hope for? He sighed. Probably. If Brennan still refused to tell him where Orvind was hidden, what could he do to change his mind? Nordskog had already tortured the man once. He doubted another session would make Brennan eager to help them.

He studied the evidence of last night’s destruction as he made his way through the ravished village. The morning air was thick with the stench of death and smoky embers from burned-out fires. Dozens of murdered villagers lay where they had fallen.

Karnik’s men were also scattered on the ground. Everywhere he looked, men, some dressed, some nude, lay passed out on blankets. They had exhausted themselves last night and would sleep late into the day. He frowned. Although he felt a powerful urge to tear into them for what they had done, he knew better than to rouse them. He was outnumbered, weaponless, and felt as weak as a kitten.

“Are all the villagers dead?”

“Most. Everyone scattered when they released the nets. The women were taken first. The men ran for their lives and were hunted down. Some of them escaped. There could be two dozen or more roaming loose on the isle. Do you want them killed or netted if they’re found?”

“No. Why bother? If they’ve escaped, they have earned their freedom. Starving villagers won’t be a problem to me. And besides, who would obey my command to catch them?”

He reached the church and headed downstairs. Brennan lay fastened to the stone slab, shivering in the damp air. His naked body was covered with red welts, deep cuts, and burns. Rothgar smirked. Yesterday he’d whipped Brennan three times only to prove his point. Then he’d invited Nordskog to do the rest of the work. The Notorious One had taken great delight in his task.

“Are you ready to talk now, Brennan?”

To his surprise, Brennan sneered at him. “I see you were beaten. My prayers were answered.”

“I think not.” He forced himself to grin, even though it sent a burst of pain through his cracked lips. “Your God has forsaken your people. Did you not hear the screaming last night? It was the sound of Norsemen hunting Picts.”

Brennan’s eyes widened, and he continued.

“Some are still alive, maybe even enough for you to rebuild this village—if I allow my men to spare them.” He bent close to Brennan. The stench of urine and stale sweat coming off of him made his eyes water.

“You have until sundown to tell me where Orvind is, or else I will destroy you and your village forever. I’ll force you to watch as all the villagers are killed because of you. It will be slow and painful. You will not like my wrath, I promise you.”

Without waiting for Brennan’s reaction, he marched up the steps. Nordskog followed close at his heels.

“Rothgar, what are you going to do now?”

He strode out of the church and headed to the gathering hall. “I’m going to take Odaria and search for Orvind one final time. She may be able to sense his whereabouts.” He paused, then decided to trust Nordskog completely. “I’m leaving tomorrow, with or without Orvind. Brennan has until sunset to tell me what I want to know—or else.” He arched an eyebrow. “Go back in there and do what you do best. Make him willing to talk.”

“Rothgar, there you are. How long have you been awake? Where is your tunic?”

He looked over his shoulder as Odaria came downstairs and stood behind him. She looped her arm through the bend in his elbow and pressed her cheek to his upper arm. “You did not return last night. I waited up for you, hoping you would—”

“I couldn’t. I had pressing matters to attend to.” He wanted to spare her the truth about what had happened. “I prepared this for us,” he said, showing her the basket in front of him.

The wicker basket was filled with food left over from the feast. He’d packed hunks of meat and bread along with a large wedge of cheese and several boiled eggs. It would be plenty of food for both of them today.

“Are we going somewhere?”

“I would like to take a walk with you and have a pleasant meal out-of-doors,” he said, forcing his voice to sound cheerful. “You know this isle better than anyone. Is there somewhere we could go to be alone and not return until midafternoon?”

“Aye, I know many places,” Odaria said, stepping in front of him. She gasped as she saw his injuries. “What happened to your face?”

He closed the top of the basket and turned away. Although he’d washed the blood off his battered nose and lips, there was no way he could conceal his bruises.

“What happened?” Odaria clasped his hand and examined his torn, bloody knuckles. “You were in a fight, weren’t you?” She gazed into his eyes. “With who? Karnik? Over what? Orvind? Tell me, what did Nordskog want with you last night? There was trouble in the village. What did he tell you that tore you from our bed?”
He broke from Odaria’s steady gaze and sighed. She was a clever young woman, and she’d soon figure out what had happened—one way or another. He knew he would have to tell her the truth eventually, but he’d hoped to put it off until they were out of the village.

“I promise to tell you everything as we walk.” He picked up two pouches filled with water and headed to the cookroom. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Why are you so eager to go? Are you in trouble? Why are we sneaking out the side door of the cookroom?”

“I’m in no trouble, and you ask too many questions.” He quickly created a story to appease her curiosity. “Karnik’s men were up all night drinking and carousing. They are strewn around the village, sound asleep. Waking a sleeping Nordmann with a heavy head is not a good idea. Is it not better that we let them sleep and be on our way in peace?”

Odaria frowned. From the perturbed look on her face, he knew she didn’t believe his pathetic story, but it was better than telling her the truth—that the ground outside was littered with bloody corpses. It would be too much for her to witness. Some of the horrible sights soured even his guts.

“Come with me, and we will have a nice day together. You said you were tired of being cooped up indoors, ja?”

“Aye. It would be nice to get away from the village for a while,” she replied, then grinned. “And we could use the privacy.”

Rothgar clasped Odaria’s hand as they strolled across the fields along the outskirts of the village. He inhaled the salty breeze coming off the sea. Tomorrow he’d set sail for home, with Odaria at his side. They would begin a new life together. One more day. All he needed to do was make it through one more day. Then all their troubles would be behind them.

“What’s on your mind, Rothgar? You seem quite worried.”

He gave Odaria’s hand a light squeeze. There was much he wanted to tell her, but he was unsure how. “Nothing has gone the way I’d planned. I have not found Orvind. Karnik’s men hate me … I do not wish to burden you with my woes.”

Odaria’s black hair billowed out behind her as a gust of wind came off the sea. “’Tis no burden. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

He chuckled. “Ja, sense where Orvind is and lead me to him.”

“’Tis true that I can do magical things, but I canna point my finger and make him appear before me.” She glanced at the sea. “Would you like to walk along the cliffs? They aren’t far.”

“Ja, a view of the water will ease my nerves.” He didn’t care where they went, as long as they were far away from everyone else.
After walking a short distance, they came upon a field scattered with large rocks. Odaria led him over a small hill, and they strolled to the cliff’s edge. He set the wicker basket down in the grass and followed Odaria onto an outcropping of black rocks.

“Mind your footing, Rothgar. A fall from here means certain death, and sometimes the rocks are slick.”

He peered over the cliff’s edge and stared into the rough sea. The cliff was fifty feet high, with jagged rocks below. White-capped waves crashed against the black boulders. Odaria was right. A fall from here would be an instant death.

His heart leapt in his throat as he glanced at Odaria. She was sitting on the outermost edge of the rocks with her feet dangling in midair. Had she no fear? He backed away from the cliff’s edge and hurried to her.

“Come away from there. You’re making me nervous,” he called out. If Odaria lost her balance or fell, he’d never be able to reach her in time …

“I sit here all the time. I know every stone on these cliffs. I’m in no danger.”

“Odaria, move back from the edge. It’s not safe.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “I shall, if you will tell me how you hurt your hand and who you were fighting with.”

“Fine. As you wish. Come to me, and I will tell you anything you want to know.” He returned to where he’d left the wicker basket and sat down. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched Odaria casually stroll in from the outcropping of rocks. She floated like the wind and moved swiftly as if she were walking across a wooden floor instead of a deadly cliff. A few moments later, she knelt next to him and opened the wicker basket.

“Did you bring any chicken?” she asked, rummaging inside.

He took a boiled egg from her hand as she unpacked the basket. Food was the last thing he wanted right now, but he knew he had to eat to regain his strength. “I brought what I could find. There was not much left.”

As he peeled the egg, he mulled over what he had to tell Odaria. Would she care that most of the villagers were dead? Probably not, considering how they had treated her. But she would not like to hear what Karnik’s men had done to him.

Odaria stared into his eyes as if she were reading his thoughts. “Tell me what happened. How does a man as big and as strong as you get beaten so badly?”

“I was outnumbered.”

“I would hope so. ’Twould be a shame if one man could do such damage to you.” She paused. “And what caused this fight?”

He bit into the egg and chewed slowly. “I nearly killed Karnik last night.”

Odaria dropped a piece of cheese. “Why? Did he send Nordskog to—?”

“Neinn. Nordskog came to warn me about what was happening to the villagers.”

Odaria scowled. “The villagers? What do they have to do with this?”

“Remember the noises we heard? The men yelling, the shouting …” Odaria nodded, and he continued. “Karnik’s men cut down the nets and freed the villagers—”

“Nay.” She clutched his arm. “They’ll come after me and—”

“They will do no such thing. The men were used as sport for swordplay. The women were used for a different sport …” He stared down at the grass. “Most of them are dead.”

“Most of them?” Odaria glanced around the field. “Most? How many remain? Are they out there somewhere, lying in wait for me?”

He patted her hand. “Of course not. They are starved and helpless. They cannot harm you.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Everything hurt. His ribs ached, every muscle in his body was battered and bruised, and all he wanted to do was lie down in the cool grass and sleep for weeks.

“Is that why you attacked Karnik?”

“Ja. I would have strangled him if Svein hadn’t laid a sword across my neck.”

Odaria leapt to her feet, her eyes blazing. “He did what? Have they all gone mad, threatening you in such a way? I’ll see to it—”

“Now before you go whipping up the wind and calling forth storms, be quiet and listen to me.” He clutched Odaria’s hand and pulled her down next to him. “Karnik and his men planned it. I can no longer trust them or rely on them for anything. They have betrayed me.”

He saw a flicker of confusion in her green eyes. “Why? When we went upstairs, everyone was having a good time. What happened? Why did they disobey you and make sport of the villagers?”

“Because they have grown tired of searching for Orvind. They are resentful and wish to leave. I cannot control them.” He squeezed her hand. “That is why I took you away this morning. I didn’t want you to see what they had done.”

“What about Brennan? Is he dead as well?”

He yawned. The longer he sat still, the more difficult he found it to remain awake. “Neinn. I made sure that he was unharmed. I have him hidden away.”

“You kept that monster safe? You should have stripped him naked, poured oil over him, and lit him ablaze,” she shouted. “Why would you spare his miserable life?”

“He knows where Orvind is. And what Nordskog is doing to him right now will make him talk.”

Odaria nodded and was silent for a moment. “I see. I don’t care what happens to Brennan or the villagers. I’m only concerned with you.” She kissed his bruised knuckles. “I’m glad you were not injured worse. Do you need me to tend to your wounds? I can—”

“I’d rather you find me a safe place to sleep for an hour,” he said, yawning again. “I’m exhausted, and I’m about to drop off where I lie.”

She smiled. “Aye, I know a good place.” She pointed at a hill behind her. “Can you walk there?”

“Ja. Lead the way, and I will follow,” he replied, stifling another yawn. At this point, he didn’t care where he went, as long as he could get a few moments of precious sleep.

Odaria stood and raced over the hill. He repacked the wicker basket, then trailed after her. When he reached the crest of the hill, he frowned. Odaria had vanished. Where could she have gone? He looked in all directions and saw nothing but grass and low hills. There was nowhere for her to hide, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m here,” she called out.

He looked toward the sound of her voice and was surprised to see her peeking out from a slit in the hillside. Had she burrowed beneath the ground? “How did you get there? What is that?”

“A cairn. Step to the left and look close. There’s a narrow opening in the rocks.”

He walked to the rocks and saw that she was right. What appeared to be the grassy mound of a hill was actually a small stone structure built into the hillside. It was covered with grass and dirt and blended perfectly into the landscape.

“Narrow opening is right,” he grumbled as he set the basket down. He dropped to his knees and crawled into the darkness, pushing the wicker basket ahead of him. “If I get stuck—”

“Mind your head. This room is the smallest, to keep out trespassers.”

He squeezed his bare shoulders through the slit in the rock, mindful of his already aching head. Even on his knees, he had to duck low. “Dammit, who lives here? Trolls?”

Odaria appeared in front of him, carrying a lit candle. “Follow me.” She headed for the rock wall and vanished.

As he crawled farther along, the passageway opened into a larger room. Odaria could stand, but he was forced to remain on his knees. He gazed around the chamber. It was obvious that someone lived here. Candles, jars, jugs, and bottles lined the shelves built into the stone walls. A pile of wool blankets was stacked in the far corner.

“Who lives here?” he asked again. The last thing he wanted was to be trapped in this tiny room when the owner came home—be it goblin, elf, or wood sprite.

“Sometimes I do.”

He took his time and looked around the cairn again. Candles were lit around the main room, illuminating the ventilation slits carved into the walls. He spotted his blue tunic sticking out from a pile of clothes in the corner. This must have been where Odaria had gotten her red dress and boots. She had stored some of her belongings here.

He inched his way to the shelves on the far side of the chamber. A row of bottles stood next to a small iron pot. Bunches of herbs and berries were tied to small wooden pegs and hung upside down to dry. “This is your witch shop, is it not? Much like a blacksmith has his shop.”

“Aye. This is where I do all my magic. I came here after we found Chester.” Odaria paused, then continued. “Nobody in the village knows of this secret place.”

“I see.” He gestured at the bottles. “And these are your potions?”

“Aye. That one’s for courage, the next for strength, and the last is a love potion,” she said as she pointed to the different vials.

“Is that so?” He picked up the small bottle of love potion and started to uncork it. “Then if I drink this—”

“Nay!” Odaria darted forward and snatched the bottle from his hand. “’Tis not meant to be drunk down.” She rolled her eyes and replaced the bottle on the shelf. “Do not fool with things ya don’t understand.”

He smiled. He’d only been teasing her, but it seemed that Odaria took her elixirs seriously. He doubted that any of the so-called potions worked. Many times he had purchased magical healing drinks, only to find that he’d wasted his hack silver on spiced mead or flower-scented water.

“Then how does it work if it is not to be drunk?”

Odaria looked down, and a slight blush crept into her cheeks. “’Tis put upon the body to make a person”—she licked her lips and glanced at him—“most eager and ready.”

“Oh.” He chuckled. “Does it work?”

“Of course. All my spells do.” She scowled at him. “If you have finished playing, may we eat?”

“Ja, food and a nap sound good.”

Odaria spread a wool blanket on the floor, and they sat down. She opened the basket and began unpacking the food. “Do you like it in here?”

“It’s fine.” He shrugged. “Do you sleep here? Is it warm at night? I have never been inside a cairn before.”

“Aye. ’Tis warm enough. Ages ago, people used these as homes. There are hundreds of cairns all over the isle, and the ruins of an abandoned village are not far from here.”

He broke off a chunk of bread and handed it to her. “I know. Sig and I went there looking for Orvind.”

He frowned. Come to think of it, where was Sig? He hadn’t seen him at all last night, and he wasn’t part of the group that had attacked him. And where was Orvind? Unless the gods themselves intervened to help him with his cause, by tomorrow they would be sailing home without his favorite cousin. How would his uncle punish him for his failure?

“Rothgar,” Odaria said, resting her hand on his forearm and flashing him a little smile, “might I ask you a question?”

“Ja, but I will not answer if I do not wish to.” He was tired and hurt and felt like being grumpy. And why shouldn’t he be? Everything had gone to hell the moment he’d landed on this foul isle.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” Odaria asked, sweeping her raven-black hair over her shoulder. “Upstairs, I mean,” she added coyly.

He grinned. Now he knew why Odaria was being so attentive to him. Their unfinished business from last night was on her mind. “Greatly. And you?”

“More than anything I’ve ever done. I never knew what a man’s”—she looked down—“thing would feel like.”

“Did you find it objectionable?” He knew damn well that Odaria had been ready to make love last night, yet once again, he had disappointed her. Someday soon he’d find a way to make it all up to her.

Odaria rested her head against his bare shoulder. “I liked it, but I wish I’d gotten the chance to find out how it felt inside me,” she said in a sweet, singsong voice.

He chuckled. Odaria was anything but bashful when it came to speaking her mind. It was refreshing to hear that she liked lovemaking so far, for there was much he wanted to teach her.

“We are alone here,” she said, running her fingers along his shoulder.

“I know that.”

She trailed her hands down the front of his chest and across his flat stomach. Her touch sent a flash of heat through his groin. “Nobody knows where we are. We won’t be interrupted,” she whispered in his ear, then kissed the side of his neck.

Did she want to make love? Here? Now he knew why Odaria had brought him to the cairn.

He took her hands off his chest and kissed them. “That is a pleasant idea, Odaria, but I am not in a romantic mood.”

A flicker of confusion flashed in her eyes. “Romantic mood? Since when does a man need to feel romantic?” She nuzzled the side of his neck with her warm lips again. “Mayhap if we kiss with our tongues …”

“I’m tired and hurt, and I have no interest in such things today.” Even if he weren’t beaten and exhausted, his mind was still plagued with the horrors from last night. Images of dead villagers didn’t lend themselves to feelings of intimacy.

Odaria pulled away. “But Rothgar … You started to last night, and then you left me. I was abandoned, eager, and … wanting. Do you have any idea what that did to me? You stoked my fires, then left when I was ready for you. I lay there for hours, aching, hoping you would return to me.” She pouted. “It werena fair.”

He laughed in spite of the pain coursing through his ribs. “Now you know how men feel when women tease them with promises of loving, then deny it at the last moment.”

Odaria turned her head and folded her arms across her chest. He knew she was annoyed with him, and he tried to make amends.

“Trust me, I was as frustrated as you, even more so. I had to walk through the village with my rod stiff and burning for you, all the while fighting Karnik’s men.” He touched her shoulder. “I’m honored you brought me here, and I’m glad you are ready to make love, but pray understand I’m in no mood for it now. Perhaps tonight,” he said, hoping that would appease her.

“Aye, I understand. Then might I rub your shoulders and neck? You are tense and strained, and it would make you feel better.”

He smiled. “Ja, that is a good idea.” Perhaps a soothing rub would ease his aches and improve his mood. He closed his eyes as Odaria repositioned herself behind him on the blanket.

She rested her hands on the muscles between his neck and shoulders. “My, you are stiff,” she whispered as she started massaging him.

He winced and jerked away. “Easy. I’m sore and bruised. Be tender with me, Odaria.”

“Sorry. I didna mean to hurt you. I have something that will ease your pain. Wait here a moment.” He felt her move away. “I’ll be right back.”

He relaxed and let his head drop. He wasn’t about to go anywhere. Right now, he could fall asleep where he sat. Mayhap he would take a nap, then eat something when he awoke.

A few seconds later, Odaria returned and knelt behind him again. He moaned as she gently kneaded his aching shoulders, back, and neck. Her soft hands traveled across his skin, rubbing away all his tension and pain. He let out a light groan as she squeezed away a knot between his shoulder blades. Her fingertips grazed the sides of his neck, and he breathed in deep. What was that smell? The air was filled with a spicy scent.

“What is that odor?”

“The herbs I have drying. When I light candles in here, they give off a fragrance. Do you like it?”

He inhaled and felt his body relax. His breathing had become deep and slow, and his heart thudded a little faster in his chest. “Hmm, it is nice. Very soothing.”

Odaria continued rubbing his back and shoulders. His skin warmed and prickled at her touch. After a minute, she slid her hands down his ribs, then reached around to the front of his chest.

She caressed his chest muscles and trailed her fingertips across his nipples. The peculiar scent seemed to grow stronger the longer Odaria massaged him. Was it his imagination?

A tingling heat spread across his chest, and a hot quickening filled his loins. Odaria’s touch was stirring his blood. What was happening to him? He felt dizzy, and it seemed as if a great deal of time had passed. Had he fallen asleep?

“Feel good?” Odaria whispered in his ear.

“Ja, but what—?”

“I want you to like this, Rothgar,” she said, trailing her tongue along the side of his neck.

The feel of Odaria’s hot, wet tongue on his skin hardened him in an instant. A deep moan escaped his throat, and he fought the overwhelming urge to grab Odaria and kiss her.

She kept stroking and teasing him. Each time she touched his chest, his penis throbbed. He opened his eyes and glanced at his breeches. He was fully erect. How could that be? Just a few moments ago, he felt exhausted. Now he was as stiff as a sword. What in the name of Thor had happened to him?

“What have you done to me, witch?”

She flashed him a little smile. “Nothing bad, Rothgar. I merely made you … interested.”

All of a sudden, he understood the meaning of her words. He glanced at the shelf behind him and saw that the bottle of love potion had been moved. The cairn was filled with the thick, heavy scent of Odaria’s potion. The longer he smelled it, the more aroused he became. His heart pounded faster, and his lust flared higher. “By Odin, you have bewitched me.”

“I only used a little.” She kissed him, entwining her tongue with his. “I want you, Rothgar. Today. Now. Here. I shan’t allow us to be interrupted again.”

He moaned and managed a feeble protest. “But to use witchery on me—”

“The potion shan’t harm you. It merely makes a man … ready,” she said as she reached down and stroked the front of his breeches.

His penis jutted forward with a life of its own. Odaria was right. Her potion did make a man ready. He’d never felt so lust-crazed in his life. If Odaria wanted to make love now, by the gods they would. Thor himself couldn’t stop him from sating his cravings.

“You should not have used your potion on me. Now my flesh is as doubly hard as it was last night.”

“Then you shall enjoy yourself doubly.” She kissed him again. “Pray don’t be angry with me. Make love to me,” she begged.

He pulled Odaria into his arms and kissed her. Although a part of him wanted to go slow, the surging need to feel release commanded him to take action. He broke the kiss. “You do not know what man-lust you have stirred. Strip, witch, lest I tear that dress to rags,” he said, his voice coming out deep and husky.

Odaria giggled and removed her dress. Seconds later, she knelt before him, naked.