Collin eyed the Baron Luxtley darkly as he tossed the note onto the table in front of him. The older man flicked the note a wary look, and picked it up. He read it and tossed it back down, his steely grey eyes looking sympathetic as they met his.
“It seems the Viking is most determined to keep Lady Allisande, my boy,” Luxtley said and shook his graying head sadly. “However will you meet such a price?”
“You will give me half, and Ulsted the other half!” Collin hissed and his violet eyes met his father’s long-time friend coldly. “Or I go to the king and name you both as conspirators in the planning and execution of the raids. I will get my sister back, Luxtley. I will not let her languish as Ivarsson’s whore while you two profit from your treachery. You have until spring to meet my demands, and make no mistake of it; I will collect from you both.”
“Who do you think you are talking to, boy?” Luxtley snarled, his face mottled with rage as he rose and sputtered in outrage. “You would have your own lands stripped should you go to the king! Your father may be dead, but you would suffer for his part in this! One hundred pounds of silver for your silence, you say?” He flung the note across the table. “Ivar is a wily bastard! You will learn he cannot be trusted soon enough! The ransom will be twice that high by springtime! He plays with you! You will never see her again, my boy, if she even lives.”
“Your half will be paid, no matter the price! You have done this to my sister and you will undo it, by God, or I will ruin us all!” Collin grabbed the note, and stuffed it back into his vest. “Make no mistake, I will have my sister returned to her home and right this wrong. You can have the honor of telling Ulsted what is expected of him now, for if I lay eyes on the man, I just may just kill him myself. My sister lives! She will come home!”
“You would bring her back dishonored and ruined by the Viking?” Luxtley argued and rounded the table in his hall to face him determinedly. “Have you thought of her fate should she return? I feel as badly as you do, for I cared a great deal for your sister, but she will be ostracized, much like my own sister was.”
“Yes, and I have often wondered if Lady Leonie knows you planned the raid on her husband’s home. Should I tell her of it? You have made a great deal of gold off the suffering of many. One hundred pounds of silver for my silence is the least you can do to atone for your sins!” Collin struggled to keep from striking the man he had once loved like a father. “You will make this right. I do not blame the Vikings now as much as I do you both. At least I know Ivar will give me back my sister once he has the silver.”
“Ivar will not give her back to you, Collin. He does not want the silver either,” Luxtley said tiredly and ran a shaking hand through his grey hair. “He seeks to divide us into killing each other off, and save him the effort, don’t you see? We betrayed him to stop the killing. He held our guilt over our heads to keep us with him all those years. After what happened to my sister, I could take it no more. I warned Harold it would come to this in the end, but he wouldn’t listen. He thought we could outsmart the man, and he was wrong.”
“I want the ransom, and do not tell me you do not have it, for we both know you do.” Collin remained unmoved by the man’s words. “I have no choice but to take the Viking at his word, for I know I cannot trust yours. Allisande will come home. I will have half the ransom of you come spring, and I do not care what price he levels. You both will pay it to keep your crimes hidden.”
“I have it, as well as Ulsted does, and we will pay it gladly to keep your silence,” Luxtley said and shook his head sadly. “You will realize too late he uses you against us, Collin.”
“I will have Allisande back home where she belongs, tainted or not, and you both may go to Hell with Ivar, for all I care!” Collin turned on his heal to leave the baron’s presence.
“Ivar will betray you in the spring, Collin,” Luxtley said in prediction. “It is true that I planned the raid upon Waltham, but it was Ivar himself who raped my own sister that day to throw it in my face, and I could do nothing. Do you think that was what I wanted? True, I detested her husband, but I never meant for that to happen. That was never part of the plan, don’t you see? He changes the rules to suit himself. He will drag you and your sister down with him, mark me well. He will take the silver, and he will leave your sister with his son.”
Collin refused to listen and stormed out of the keep, mulling over his words with a worrisome frown as he rode hard for Lockwraithe. He couldn’t afford to trust Luxtley in this matter, knowing the man had been as deeply entrenched in this as his father was.
He had no choice but to trust Ivar until he had his sister home safe. If the Viking betrayed him, he would kill him, he thought with a deadly glint in his eyes.
****
Allisande was still dwelling upon the incident outside the kitchens as she made ready for bed. She closed her eyes in disgust at her response to the handsome, mysterious Viking. She had nearly let him take her in a rubbish pile! What madness was this? She cringed as she lay in the darkness.
To his credit, Rowan hadn’t forced the issue after she deliberately teased him. She needn’t be angry at him. She was disturbed she could act so wantonly. The damnable man had bedeviled her with his amazing looks, and his knowing touch and kisses.
She punched the pillow in fury at how stupid she had been to lead the man on. He wasn’t one to be satisfied with mere kisses. She was fearful he would tell Joran of it now. She was mortified to feel such agonized guilt at kissing another man, even though she had refused him at the last moment. She felt like a loose, immoral woman and was determined to atone for her sins. She was determined she would not find herself alone with Rowan again in the future. She decided she would rather not know if he could bring her to the dizzying heights of passion she shared with Joran.
It was nearly dawn when Joran entered his room, too tired from talk and drink to wonder why Allisande retired so abruptly the night before. He grinned sleepily as he removed his clothing, tossing all upon his chest as he joined her underneath the furs, pulling her sleeping form into his arms.
She turned to him in sleep, her body snuggling closer to his. He decided he wasn’t too tired after all as he began to seek her under the furs. She moaned in her sleep as he found her wet and ready for him.
He kissed and caressed her awake and rolled her onto her back. When he rolled over at last, and thrust inside of her, she came awake and looked dazed as she met each drive of his body with such force, he closed his eyes and groaned in delight, gritting his teeth with the effort to get control of his passions.
He felt her digging her nails into his back. She urged him to her with throaty cries, writhing and thrusting hard to meet the demands of his body. He could stand it no more, and when he ground her furiously into the furs, her eyes flew wide. She shattered with such a powerful climax she jerked and shook from it.
He was sure he had never felt such completion in a woman’s arms. He let loose a loud shout and was shaking violently himself as he spilled his seed deep within her at the last, murmuring her name in anguish as he closed his eyes and breathed raggedly.
She clung to him, her heels digging hard into his buttocks, holding him tightly within her. He looked down and saw she was crying, and kissed her tears from her cheeks. She wept in his arms. He held her tightly until she quieted, still reeling with wonder at her uninhibited responses to him.
Allisande laid her head upon his chest as he now slept, stroking the wiry hairs upon his chest with her hands, her smile soft and sated, and knowing what she experienced with this man could not be found so easily with another. Her guilt over kissing Rowan faded as she lay within her Viking’s arms. Only Joran could make her feel such heady pleasure.
Allisande awoke later and Joran was gone. She frowned until she remembered he was going hunting with his father this day. She rose, and shivered with the chill in the room, and hurriedly washed herself and dressed.
Allisande went below reluctantly, fearful of running into Rowan again, unwilling to face his knowing looks. She knew she was an idiot to feel the guilt she felt the night before when things got so out of hand in the kitchens.
The Vikings were all gone from the hall, to her relief. She decided to see how Janna faired, and left the hall to see to her friend’s welfare. She found the woman much improved, and delighted in her three children as she spent the afternoon there visiting with her.
Janna was plying her with questions about the goings on in the hall the night before. She found she had little to recount as her time had been spent serving due to Elwynn’s illness. She refused to speak of what transpired between herself and Rowan, despite her need to confide in someone. It was something she would take to her grave, for she doubted Rowan would seek a challenge to speak of it.
Allisande was returning from Janna and Grogan’s cottage when her path was cut off by Wulfstan. The Viking raked her over with his pale, hate-filled gaze. She flinched from the lust and animosity she saw in his eyes. She made to pass him, but he stood in front of her and would not let her go on her way.
A feeling of panic assailed her when she looked about and realized Joran and his father were hunting. Most of the Vikings were with them. Wulfstan smiled cruelly as he reached out and grabbed her wrists.
Allisande opened her mouth to scream. He drew back his hand and delivered a blow that dazed her. She tasted blood in her mouth. Before she could release another sound, he hit her again in the chest, so hard she fell to her knees. She felt ribs shatter.
She struggled in a futile effort to get away from him. He grabbed her by her hair and jerked her back to him. He dragged her behind him to the stables and kicked the door shut. She staggered to get away from him, but he was on her in an instant.
He kicked her backward. She flew into the horse’s stall to land amidst the hay there. He stood over her cruelly, his eyes narrowed in hatred as he drew back his hand again. The blows that rained down upon her must have rendered her unconscious, for when she opened her eyes she was laying flat upon her back in the stall upon a mound of hay, whimpering in pain from the beating. Her arm throbbed, and she knew it to be broken.
Her eyes were so swollen shut; she could hardly make out Wulfstan’s shape as he stood over her. He undid the fastenings to his clothing. She sobbed in shame as he came down on top of her. He held a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. She bit it hard.
Wulfstan cursed before he hit her again. He laughed cruelly as he yanked back her arms over her head, and stared down at her hatefully. “I will have you now, Allisande of Lockwraithe, and Joran will not want you anymore once I am finished with you.” She sobbed in agony and pain as he wrenched her legs open and positioned himself on top of her. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the rape when Wulfstan was suddenly wrenched off her and thrown backward. Allisande scurried away against the wooden stall and stared in shock at the identity of her rescuer. Ivar the Boneless took in the condition of her battered face and ripped gown and eyed Wulfstan with dark displeasure.
“My son will not be happy with what you have done to his slave this day, Wulfstan,” Ivar said coldly and gazed at his former favorite with a look of despair. “There will be a challenge from this. Is your hatred for the girl worth your life? Joran will kill you for this insult to him.”
“She killed my brother! She deserves far worse than a beating and a roll in the hay!” Wulfstan argued as he adjusted his clothing. “You should not have interfered. It is my right to seek vengeance upon her.”
“My advice would be to leave, Wulfstan. Leave while you have a head start, for when my son sees what you have done here, there will be no place for you to hide from his wrath,” Ivar predicted solemnly and watched as Wulfstan stomped away, cursing under his breath.
When the door to the stable slammed shut, Ivar approached the badly beaten woman, and met her violet gaze with a grim look. He reached out a hand to her. She refused to acknowledge his assistance as she shrank away from him, and regarded him warily.
“You have no reason to fear me, Girl.” Ivar’s his pale eyes flicked to hers without pity or compassion in them. The mighty warrior had seen far too much death and violence to be shaken by her battered appearance. “I have already had my vengeance against your family. You should be grateful I didn’t walk away when I saw you dragged in here by Wulfstan, but you are not, I can see,” he said in dry amusement as he noted her look of loathing. “Hate me all you want, Girl, but you try me sorely, for I will lose valuable warriors now because of you. Seasoned warriors are difficult to replace in times of war.”
“Go get the rest of your army, Viking, and I will dispatch the lot of them,” she said bitterly. Suddenly his massive shoulders shook with laughter.
”Had your sire had your backbone, I have no doubt this whole matter would have ended quite differently for us all. Do yourself a favor and do not wander about alone again. My men would not hesitate to do what Wulfstan attempted. There are many who feel as Wulfstan does, that you should have been made to pay for Danik and Hagar’s deaths. I spared you that to please my son’s desire for you, Wench,” Ivar said coldly. “See that you keep him well-pleased, or I will see you suffer the consequences.” This last was said with such vehemence, Allisande shrank from the Berserker, sensing his legendary rage was soon to be directed towards her unless she complied.
“You do not scare me, Ivar the Boneless.” Allisande taunted rashly and spat a mouthful of blood out and rose unsteadily, unable to see out of one eye now. Stars floated before her gaze. She struggled to remain upright as she staggered against the stall door, feeling darkness descend, but unwilling to crumble at the Viking’s feet. She clawed at the stall door to remain upright. “I have yet to have my vengeance.” She slipped to the floor, unconscious at last.
Ivar stared down at the girl and cursed her as he leaned down and picked up her slight form and carried her out of the stable. He looked down at her horribly beaten form in admiration.
He entered the hall and encountered Elwynn first. The old woman stared at him in shock. He hastened to reassure her he didn’t beat the girl himself, but saved her from Wulfstan. He delivered her to his son’s room under the care of the women and was thankful for the ale in front of him as he awaited his son’s rage.
****
Joran was eager to return to the hall with the bounty of their hunt. They felled three stags and a wild boar this day. The men were in high spirits. Grogan eyed the launch as Wulfstan’s long ship slid away from the dock. He was glad his Chieftain’s nemesis was taking his leave. The tension was mounting. Wulfstan witnessed Joran’s pleasure in his newest slave. Wulfstan glared whenever he saw them together. Grogan knew there would be trouble.
Joran walked his horse into the stable yard and wondered where everyone was as he tied his horse and returned to the hall. The other men began gutting the wild game they caught. He entered the hall and saw his father seated at the high table. He approached warily as he noted the look on his face. Ivar rose and confronted him with a pained expression.
“Wulfstan attacked Allisande when she returned from tending to Grogan’s wife,” Ivar said quietly and saw the rage that filled his son’s eyes. “She was beaten, nothing more. I stopped him from what else he planned.”
“I will kill him for this!” Joran shouted and slammed his hand upon the table. “How could you let him leave? I will hunt him down for this!”
“I will lose no more men over the girl!” Ivar gazed at his son dispassionately. “You forget she killed two of my men already! Be lucky I didn’t allow Wulfstan his vengeance this day, for I was tempted, when I saw him drag her away. You have allowed your cock to rule your head, my son, where she is concerned. Wulfstan deserves more of your loyalty than Osgood’s daughter!”
“You saw him drag her away and allowed it? You did nothing?” Joran asked incredulously and could only gape as his father raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
“Wulfstan is one of my best warriors. His head is clouded with this need to seek vengeance upon the girl. I had thought to overlook it, and let him have it, but I know you would not appreciate the insult. You are sensitive, much like Ingar was.”
“Do not ever speak my mother’s name again if you wish to remain my father,” Joran said coldly and his eyes were frigid as they met Ivar’s. “We both know she did not want your attentions or appreciate the result of them later. You are lucky to have stopped him, because there would be nowhere for him to hide had he done more this day.” He turned on his heel and left Ivar to reflect upon his words. Ivar watched his son run to the woman’s side and spat at his feet.
Joran was growing soft on the girl. He refused to allow it to hinder the scheme he had in mind. Allisande of Lockwraithe must be sent home and soon, or he feared he would lose another warrior to her.
Joran entered his room with a heavy feeling in his chest when Elwynn and Janna stood aside so he could survey the damage done by Wulfstan. Her face was so swollen, he hardly recognized her. The bruises forming upon her were horrendous. He cursed viciously as he saw the deep bite mark upon her shoulder.
He felt the red mist coming before his eyes, felt the vortex of rage sweep over him in a powerful wave. Had Wulfstan remained, he would have torn him limb from limb. Elwynn had tears in her eyes when she informed him Allisande’s left arm was broken in two places, her nose broken, as well as a few ribs.
He was stone-faced when they said she took the brunt of the beating to her face. She hadn’t awoken since Ivar brought her from the stable. They feared internal injuries. He excused them both and said he would sit with her.
His rage hardly subsided as he watched her chest rise and fall. He waited for hours. When he heard her moan softly and rouse, he went to her, his blue eyes bleak as they saw she did not awaken.
He stayed at her side that night. His gaze was grim as he feared she would die in those moments. The pain became too much for him to bear. He rose to seek out his men.
“We sail after him tomorrow. He will have to reach Oslo first. We will catch him there,” he said to Grogan as the men prepared to leave. He heard his father cackle at his words and frowned at him. Ivar grinned as Mira plopped onto his lap. He met his son’s fierce look with a lopsided smile.
“You play into the wench’s hands. She would allow half the men here to attack her if she knew Viking blood would be spilled.” Joran’s face grew mottled with rage at his words. “You would kill a brother for his actions concerning a lowly slave? I will not allow it. You will not challenge Wulfstan over the girl. It is over! If the wench lives, so be it. Wulfstan had his vengeance and that is enough.”
“I am owed tribute because of the damage to my property. I choose a challenge and you cannot gainsay me when the tribunal arrives,” Joran said in a growl and his blue eyes flared into his father’s as they met across the table. Ivar patted Mira’s bottom and she got off his lap as he rose unsteadily. He looked at his son with disappointment etched in his features. Clearly he felt the matter of a slave being nearly beaten to death did not warrant a challenge, and said so.
Grogan hastily got out of the way when Joran grabbed his sire by his tunic front with lightening speed and held his face in front of his as the red mist formed once more. His teeth were clenched as he bore down on the older man.
“You will stay out of it as you did when you saw him drag her into that stable, old man!” Joran said coldly and flung him away, contempt flaring in his gaze. “I will deal with Wulfstan for this insult. The wench is mine. I will let no man harm what is mine, do you hear?” This last was said with such vehemence, Ivar refrained from striking his son when he saw it. He staggered back and recognized that Joran’s feelings went beyond just being an insulted master wanting retaliation for his slave being injured. He developed feelings for the English girl. It was obvious, and the older man’s eyes narrowed as they met his.
“You dare to take the side of a slave over a Viking brother, Joran!” He gazed at his son angrily. “The wench has proven more trouble than her weight in silver. I will take her back to Lockwraithe myself before another of my son’s dies.”
“You will not coddle him anymore!”
“Wulfstan is my son as well, Joran!”
“He may be your son, but he will never be a brother to me!” Joran stalked from the room and left the hall. He stood on the bluff overlooking the fjord and watched as the freezing waters winded sluggishly along, dragging the newly-formed ice under the water.
Joran now questioned his association with his father and his future within his army. He turned away from the water and returned to the hall. He went to his room and refused to have further words with his sire.
He excused Janna as he sat by his bed and watched Allisande sleep uneasily. He was at a loss to control the tender feelings developing within him and soon did not try as he undressed and slid in beside her.
He held her carefully as she slept. His blue eyes flared every time she whimpered in her sleep. He would let no one hurt her again, he swore to himself, as he buried his face into her hair. He didn’t realize until he feared she would die what the feelings stirring to life within him were, recognizing them with dread. He looked down at her sorrowfully as she slept.
“You are safe with me always, Allisande,” Joran whispered raggedly. “You may have what little is left of my heart. It is yours, for always.” He kissed her neck before he closed his eyes and slept, cradling her battered form to his side and vowing to never let her go now.
****
Rowan watched her sleep as he stood over the bed, his green eyes filled with fury. Allisande had been horribly beaten by Wulfstan. He fought for breath as he stared in shock at her appearance.
A guard was to be positioned outside the door at all times while Joran hunted for him. She was unconscious for days. They feared one of her broken ribs hit something vital within her.
Joran insisted he stay here to guard his woman. The fates were laughing at him now as he recalled his original mission here and end the enchantment she cast over Joran. Ivar paid him to seduce Joran’s slave. He agreed before he knew he was being cleverly used by the warlord.
Joran was now preparing his ship, grim-faced and furious. His men joined him. Ivar was furious as he watched his son prepare to fight over the beating of the girl. He was shaking with fury as he saw Rowan approaching from the house. Ivar eyed him without a word as he watched his son acting the hero for the English girl, his eyes resentful.
“Did you do as I asked in regard to the girl, Rowan?” Ivar asked suddenly, and his pale eyes shown with interest as they met his speculatively. Rowan gazed at him without expression. He thought of the money he’d taken from Ivar to bed Joran’s pretty slave, and felt sickened for having any part of it.
It seemed a trivial enough matter until he set eyes upon her, and felt his insides melt. She was the loveliest creature he’d ever seen. Sadly, she would not be one of his conquests. Not like this, not for payment. He smiled without humor.
“The girl lies near death, Ivar. It seems you needn’t have asked me to end your son’s affection for her.”
“You would have gone after the girl for free, Rowan, do not lie,” Ivar said with a shrug, his eyes missing nothing. “She is a beauty my son does not need. When he learns you have had her, he will set her aside.”
“Joran will seek to challenge me. You have underestimated his esteem for his slave, Ivar. I have never seen him act like this over a mere woman, and I will not be a party to it,” Rowan said coldly, deciding he had involved himself enough in these matters. He would end up fighting Joran if Ivar continued. The girl obviously meant very much to him, or he would not be hunting her assailant now.
“Bah, my son is letting his cock lead him instead of seeking any ransom for the girl!” Ivar argued hotly and turned away from the ship’s progress. “If the girl dies, he is better off for it.”
“If she dies, so too, will Wulfstan,” Rowan said coolly. “You might have stopped his beating the girl, Ivar. You could have, and you didn’t. My guess is your son will not forgive that very soon either.”
“Joran will come around when he learns you bedded his slave, Rowan,” Ivar said and chuckled in amusement.
“I didn’t avail myself of the fair Allisande,” Rowan said quietly and enjoyed the older man’s look of anger and disbelief. “She refused me. If you seek to end his attachment to the girl, I suggest you seek another for your schemes. I want no part in this. I will end up staring down the end of Joran’s sword before this is all over. Is that what you want?”
Ivar didn’t answer and glared at the handsome mercenary as he stalked away, frustrated to know Rowan failed to seduce his son’s slave. He smiled darkly as he thought of another way to end his son’s growing affection for the girl at last. She wouldn’t be able to resist freedom.
****
Rowan retreated to get something to eat before he took over guarding Allisande. He knew he made a serious mistake trying to seduce Joran’s woman. Ivar would use it to his advantage if he could.
There was no point in telling Joran he failed to make love to his slave, for he wouldn’t be believed. If the time came where Ivar would use it, he would tell Joran everything and let him find out how devious his sire was.
Lady Allisande did not deserve what Ivar was doing to her, and neither did his son. Rowan made a career out of deceiving women into his arms, it was true, but not many got to him as she had.
Just thinking of how she felt in his arms made the first stirrings of a conscience surge within him. He would play the game, but Ivar would lose what he valued most in the end. If Joran truly cared for the girl as he suspected he did, Ivar would lose another son.