Читать книгу Taken by the Viking - Michelle Styles, Michelle Styles - Страница 10

‘Haakon Haroldson!’ The scream welled up from within Annis as she fought against the hands. Haakon had warned her such things might happen, but she had chosen to ignore it. She should have listened. She was furious with her attacker and more furious with herself. She had thought she was doing the right thing, but she had blundered. It was too late for regrets.

The warrior grabbed her hair and twisted it around his hand, hurting her, imprisoning her. A sword gleamed in his other hand. Her heart stopped. Her limbs froze.

A nightmare. Worse than a nightmare as she was awake. She had had a chance to escape and had thrown it away on nothing. The thought tasted bitter.

Annis felt her body begin to sag. She forced it straight. She hadn’t survived all that had gone before simply to die at this man’s hands.

She kicked out with her boot and landed a blow on his shin, heard a muttered curse and his grasp on her hair loosened. With her hand she yanked the few remaining strands free. The warrior raised his hand. Annis ducked, whispered a prayer and prepared to flee.

Suddenly the young warrior was hurled backwards, and Haakon appeared, his face black like a thundercloud.

‘Has he harmed you?’ he demanded as he placed a gentle hand under her arm.

‘No, no. I am unhurt.’ She shook her head as her limbs began to tremble, to shake uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms about her waist but still the shivers kept on coming.

Haakon’s eyes were like daggers, and he once again wore his helmet. Gone was the man who released her and in his place was the warlord she had first glimpsed.

Annis swallowed, forced her limbs to stay still as a wave of exhaustion hit. She wanted to sink to the ground and never get up. This nightmare had to end. She had to wake. Her life wasn’t supposed to be like this. She had had it orderly, planned, and now there was nothing left. Nothing.

Another wave of aching tiredness washed through her body, leaving behind it a numbing cold. Later she’d think about the horror that happened here, but now all she wanted it to do was end. Her eyelids became heavier than lead and started to close. She sank down in the dirt, resting her chin against her knees, her back against his legs. She no longer cared. This man had kept her safe before.

Haakon resisted the urge to shake the woman and force her to stand.

He had shown her to a safe place, left her there. All she had to do was to wait until the Viken had gone and she could have returned to her people with nothing worse than a bad fright. But she had ignored him and had returned to the monastery. It was only Odin’s luck that he had chanced upon Thrand and her before anything had happened to her.

Surely the woman had realised the danger she was in. His men had little regard for the women. Some of the men would make good captives, but the women they just used and discarded.

‘The woman is under my protection, Thrand,’ Haakon said as he shifted so that she was firmly against his legs. ‘And I have no wish to send you to Valhalla before your time.’

‘Your protection?’ His brother gave a shrug and fingered his jaw. ‘I found her wandering on her own. You should look after your women better.’

‘Ivar said you were in trouble.’ Haakon put his hands on his hips, allowed the remark to pass and feigned ignorance at the jibe his half-brother was trying to make. ‘He feared you would need a steadying hand.’

‘Nothing I could not handle. A Northumbrian monk objected to being taken prisoner.’ Thrand bent down and picked up his sword. ‘Next time, keep a better eye on your captives. There are many about with the blood-lust running high.’

‘How many have we lost? I know about the beach, but here in the monastery?’ Haakon ran a hand through his hair. In a battle such as this one, he would expect to see many men go to Valhalla. Without a doubt, the hardest thing he would have to do would be to inform their wives, sweethearts and families when they returned to Viken, so a rune stone could be raised to them.

‘A few cuts and bruises. Perhaps six seriously injured.’ Thrand stopped, brows coming together in concentration. ‘Bjorn is missing, but you know how he behaves when the blood madness is on him. You are the only who he respects. He will appear before the gold is fully loaded, no doubt laden with treasure and his axe dripping with blood. By all the gods, this raid has been a success.’

‘Bjorn is dead.’ Haakon dropped his arms and dared Thrand to question him.

‘Dead? How? These are no warriors! A boy with a wooden sword shows more fight.’ Thrand’s eyes widened. ‘Bjorn was a match for any man. And have you forgotten what the soothsayer said—no man can kill him?’

‘I had forgotten the prophecy when he attacked me. The blood-lust was such that he did not recognise me. We encountered each other in the guest house, and I declined to visit Valhalla, even for him.’

Thrand let out a low whistle. ‘And to think you were the one who argued that he must join this voyage. He belongs to a powerful clan.’

Haakon glanced down at the woman. She had her head tilted to one side and her brow was wrinkled as if she was trying to follow the exchange. Her dark hair curled about her temples and her dress bore the stains of the fight. But he refused to tell Thrand the truth. He had given his oath. There were many who would demand the woman’s life as penalty for killing a berserker. But Haakon owed her his life. And he would keep her safe—whether she wanted to be or not.

‘Then let them challenge me. I have my sword.’ Haakon put his hand on his sword belt.

Thrand held his hands up. ‘Your prowess as a swordsman is well known and there are legends about your sword, Leg-biter.’

‘Leg-biter has served me well.’

‘You do realise that the tales will only intensify now that you have slain Bjorn although the wergild will be great.’

Haakon allowed his brother’s words to wash over him as he studied the woman before him.

What would Thrand say if he knew the truth? Would he offer up the woman to appease Bjorn’s powerful relations?

‘I was too busy defending my own skin to think on the amount I will owe Bjorn’s family. Or what his friends might do to me afterwards. I do not believe he gave much thought to the amount he’d owe you or our mother.’

‘I would ask much for you, my brother. You have done much for the family.’ Thrand gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. ‘I for one am pleased you killed Bjorn. If the family dislikes what you offer, they can always appeal to Thorkell. He should do something for his kingship besides receive a portion of our goods.’

The words were lightly said, but an uneasy feeling passed over Haakon. An unease that he instantly dismissed as tiredness. He trusted his half-brother with his life.

‘No doubt you are correct, Thrand.’ Haakon leant forward. ‘I never forget my obligations.’

Thrand flushed. ‘And the woman. What will you do with her? You never answered. There will be some who wish to dispute your claim, particularly if she is discovered on her own again. You are lucky it was me and not another member of the felag.’

Haakon frowned as he regarded where the woman crouched at his feet. She had not moved since he had hit Thrand.

He had thought to leave her, safe and unharmed, by the rocks, her presence undetected by the rest of the Vikens. But Thrand had seen her, heard her speak in Latin. Thrand was not stupid. He would reach the same conclusion that Haakon had—this woman was high born and potentially worth a great deal of money. In this state, she would be prey for all the men.

It was a total victory for the men of Viken. His mouth twisted. A lone woman would be subjected to untold dangers. He would not do that even to his worst enemy. And this woman he had sworn to protect. No, she would have to come under his direct guard, and when they returned to Viken, he’d use his contacts with the court of Charlemagne and the Holy Roman Empire to send a ransom message to her family.

‘It is for me to decide. She belongs to me now.’

‘I apologise again, Haakon.’ Thrand made a bow. ‘I had no idea whom she belonged to.’

‘You know now. And by the blood that we share, I challenge you to remember it. Do not covet those things that are mine.’

‘I never have. Do not burden me with my mother’s ambition.’

Thrand stiffened and stalked off towards the boats.

Haakon allowed him to walk away before he turned his attention to the woman, who had not moved from the spot on the ground. He reached forward and twitched the dagger from her belt. ‘Mine, I believe.’

She struggled to an upright position and her eyes blazed. Her hand made an ineffectual grab at the blade, but Haakon calmly tucked it into his belt.

‘What right have you? Give it back!’

‘I told you that you would be safe if you stayed by the rocks. You chose to disobey me.’

‘I had to find my maidservant….’ She pushed her wild brown hair out of her eyes and held out her hands, beseeching him. ‘You remember the woman who tripped you.’

‘And did you find her?’ Haakon allowed no softness to enter his voice. ‘Where is she? Or has she been carried off by another?’

‘She’s dead.’ A look of immense pain and sorrow crossed her face. ‘The pigsty’s roof collapsed on her.’

‘I am sorry.’

‘I told her to hide there. That she would be safe. And she wasn’t…It was a mistake to come here, but I had to do my duty.’ She put her hands on her face. ‘Do you understand that? Will you let me go—as you did before?’

Haakon resisted the urge to sweep her into his arms.

‘You are my captive now. Lindisfarne is not safe for you. It is not safe for anyone.’

She made no move, but simply stood looking at him. Her eyes wore a haunted expression. Despite the warm air, she shivered slightly, her body convulsing. Her lips held a bluish tinge, but she kept her body erect and did not collapse into a ball again.

Haakon undid his cloak and put it around her shoulders, fastening the trefoil brooch under her chin.

The heavy weight of the cloak pinned Annis down. She wanted to fling it off and run, but her encounter with the other warrior had made her wary. The cloak retained the warmth from his body. The heat rose, enveloping her, reminding her of the kiss they had shared earlier. His not-unpleasant scent filled her nostrils, surrounding her. Somehow, it felt intimate in a way she had not felt before. Her late husband would never have offered her his cloak.

Her hands fumbled with the catch. She had to give it back. She had no right to wear it. The brooch pricked her finger and she brought it to her mouth with a sudden exclamation of pain.

‘Leave it on.’ Haakon’s voice allowed for no refusal.

What was she exactly? Captives were not given cloaks. She had glimpsed the groups of dispirited monks tied together. Her hands were free. There had been no humiliation…yet. She allowed her hands to fall to her sides.

‘You wear a determined look on your face, Valkyrie.’

‘Everything is going up in flames. I am a prisoner,’ she said as a group of Norse warriors sauntered passed, carrying chalices, the remains of crosses and several bottles of mead. ‘My life. My world. Nothing will ever be the same again.’

‘The world constantly changes.’ Haakon placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘But you live. You will see the sun rise and set again.’

Annis knew she should pull away, but her body refused to move. In this unrecognisable world, Haakon represented something safe and solid. The warmth from his hands flooded through her body. His face was so close, if she lifted her lips but a fraction, she knew they would brush his. She closed her eyes, savouring the sensation. She longed to lay her head against his chest. Did it make her wicked? Her head pained her.

Then she forced her eyes open and stepped backwards. Her fingers worked the catch and the cloak fell away from her shoulders.

‘I will be warm enough.’ Annis kept her head proud and erect, met Haakon’s eye. ‘You will need it.’

‘The cloak stays about your shoulder. It shows others in the felag whom you belong to. You will be unmolested both here and on the boat. I have no wish to rescue you another time.’

A shiver went through Annis. Belong to? Her mind had tried to avoid the word, but he had uttered it. She was his captive, his slave. Why had she saved his life? Surely it would have been better if she had escaped while he fought the beast. A little voice nagged at the back her mind—but look what happened to Mildreth. Do you wish to share her fate? And she knew that she wanted to live.

‘I don’t understand these words you use,’ she said to distract her thoughts away from her captivity. If she could keep him talking, then maybe she could figure out a way to escape. ‘Felag—it means nothing to me.’

‘Many of your words were foreign when I first began trading.’ A slight smile came on his lips. ‘You have yet to give me a name. Or shall I choose one for you? I knew you were high born from the instant you spoke in the upstairs room. What serf’s daughter has Latin falling so readily off her tongue?’

Annis glanced down at the dirt. Her throat closed. She had no wish to lose her name. ‘Annis,’ she whispered. ‘Annis of Birdoswald, near the River Irthing. My father was the Eorl of Birdoswald.’

‘When it is safe, I will inform your people where you are, Annis of Birdoswald.’

Annis clenched her fists so tight they hurt. She knew what letting her people know meant. Haakon would ask for a ransom.

‘When will you let them know?’ There was nothing she could do about the demand. It happened in war. Selwyn had been ransomed twice—from a Scot’s cave and later from Mercia. It was expected. But much of her family’s wealth was in the chests that the Norsemen now piled up.

Would they ransom her or would her family simply see it as a judgement from God? Her stepfather might use her capture as the final excuse he needed to secure Birdoswald for himself. But there again, he might retain a vestige of honour and duty.

‘In good time, and from a position of strength.’ His face was hard, and his eyes fierce.

Annis nodded. The raiders would not stay here. There were too few of them to hold this island in the face of attack from the Northumbrians. And it would not just be the Northumbrians, but the whole of Britain when the news got out. No, they not would stay. They would return to their northern lands and she would go with them, to await a ransom that would probably never come.

‘What is a felag?’ she asked to distract her mind from the gloomy path it was following.

‘A felag is a fellowship of traders. We swore a binding blood-oath to each other before we embarked on this journey. All goods gained will be shared out according to the contribution each man made at the beginning of the journey.’

Each man would receive a veritable treasure from the sacking of Lindisfarne. Annis pressed her lips together and held back the angry words.

‘Once we return to our homelands all accounts will be settled and your people will be notified.’ He placed a hand on her shoulder.

‘Accounts?’

‘We came to trade—amber, fur and soapstone. Our season had been good until we encountered the Scotsman.’ He gave a sudden smile. ‘Now it is excellent. All of Northumbria will know what happened here and they will not be as quick to cheat us. We have earned their respect.’

‘You will not find the rest of my country so easy. You attacked monks, men of God. Lindisfarne was a centre of learning. Northumbrians have long memories.’

A flash of unease passed through his blue eyes, but that was all. ‘Your religion is not our religion. We worship the Aesir with Odin and Thor.’

‘All Europe will recoil in horror. They will refuse to trade with you.’

‘They will trade, Annis.’ He wore a superior smile on his lips. ‘They will trade because they want our goods—our furs and amber. And the next time they will be more honest in their dealings with the Norse. It is the way of things.’

Annis wrapped her arms about her waist as she silently watched the last few remaining sparks from the church fly into the air. She refused to cry. She hated these pagan warriors. If only Haakon had not taken her knife from her, she would stick it in him. Happily. She turned her face and examined the stains on her gown. That thought was a lie. She did not want to see this Viken warrior dead, despite what he had done here. He had saved her life—twice.

Dimly she realised Haakon was speaking again.

‘You will keep on the cloak, and follow me if you value your life.’

‘Where are you taking me?’ Annis hated the way her voice quivered.

‘You will be with the other prisoners, since you are so determined to join them.’

‘Who else have you taken?’ Annis thought of the gentle brothers and their community here. Most of their time had been devoted to illuminating the gospels. How long would they last in the hands of a pagan?

‘Strong men, and the leaders of the community, if they are still alive. There were not many left. I will ask your pope in Rome for ransom.’

‘I pray to God he pays it.’

‘The wind begins to shift. We have what we came for. I must see to the ships.’ He started off, then turned back. His eyebrow arched. ‘If you value your life, keep the cloak on and do not try my patience. There are some who will see you as taking up space that could be better occupied by a chest of gold. You should be grateful, Annis of Birdoswald. You belong to me now. There are worse fates.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘Thrand tells me you have found a woman.’ Haakon’s fellow Jaarl and old friend’s voice broke into Haakon’s concentration.

‘And…’ Haakon turned from where he was contemplating the chests of silver and gold coins. The main problem was how to transport so much back to Viken on the Golden Serpent. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought a raid would be that successful. And it was not even meant to have been a raid. The weight would have to be carefully distributed.

‘We had an agreement—no women on this voyage. They do not fetch enough money. Yours will have to share the same fate as the others.’

Haakon gritted his teeth and drew himself up to his full height. He did not have to explain his actions to anyone. ‘Circumstances have changed.’

‘Thrand says that she is a kitchen wench. He discovered her by the kitchen spoils.’

‘My half-brother says many things and some of them are true. But not this one.’

Why had Thrand not kept his mouth shut? He had no cause to go complaining to another Jaarl. The success of this voyage, even before today’s raid, meant that Thrand would have enough money to buy an estate. Haakon’s stepmother could finally depart. For far too long she had presided over the farm Haakon had inherited from his father, determined that she should be given prestige and favours, making little secret of her annoyance that he, and not her son, was the eldest.

‘The woman Thrand is speaking of is the daughter of a Northumbrian lord. Think of her value.’

‘Then you don’t intend to bed her?’

‘I had not given the matter much thought,’ Haakon lied. He glanced back to where Annis stood, proud and defiant. A slight breeze whipped a strand of hair into her mouth. With impatient fingers she pushed it away. His blood stirred with the memory of the way her body had moved against his, softly arching. He would have her, but when he did she would participate fully. Not here amongst the rubble, but somewhere quiet where he could take his time and enjoy the delights of her body.

‘Will the family pay the ransom?’

‘I believe so. Trust me on this, old friend. The woman sails to Viken.’

Vikar stood stony faced with crossed arms, but Haakon held his gaze until Vikar’s face relaxed and he broke into a wide smile. He leant forward and thumped Haakon on his back.

‘Trust you? I would sail into the Midgard Serpent’s lair with you and expect to return with my ship full of gold.’

Haakon experienced a sense of relief. With Vikar on his side, there would be few who would openly question his decision to hold Annis captive, rather than simply taking her and abandoning her. He would not welcome an open break with his fellow Jaarls, but he also knew where his duty lay. Annis deserved his protection.

Haakon started to reposition the chest of gold coins more centrally in the ship. Gradually he became aware Vikar was still standing there, regarding him with a quizzical expression. For what other reason had his fellow Jaarl sought him out?

‘Tell me, though, Haakon, is there any truth to the other tale your half-brother spreads? Did you best Bjorn in a fair fight?’

‘Bjorn is dead and I was the only warrior there when he died. I will pay the appropriate price to his family. But hear this and understand, Vikar—he raised his sword first. I am no oath-breaker.’

Vikar nodded, seemingly satisfied. ‘Thorkell would expect no less.’

‘I always fulfil my obligations, Vikar.’

Annis rested her head against the bulwark of the long ship. She and a dozen monks were all that she had seen—all that had survived? She did not want to think about the bustling place Lindisfarne had been. How many men. How many women. Her mind shied away from all that.

She should stand up and take a last view of Lindisfarne, but her legs refused to move. Maybe it was better this way. She had seen the smouldering remains of the buildings as she and the other prisoners had been marched down to the beach. One monk had tried to escape and had been dealt with summarily. After that, no one moved.

A welling up of noise filled the boat.

‘Viken! Viken! Viken!’

‘What are they shouting?’ a monk asked in a hoarse whisper.

‘Viken—it is where they are from,’ Annis answered. Anything to keep her from thinking about the terrible events.

‘Vikings? They come from no place. All they are, are heathen pirates. They despoiled God’s holy place. Their souls will suffer eternal damnation,’ another monk who had a pockmarked face proclaimed. Annis vaguely recognised him from her uncle’s retinue—Aelfric. How had he survived when all the others perished? He raised a fist to the blackened sky, raining curses down on the raiders.

‘It is in God’s hands,’ a third said and gave a gasp of pain.

Annis moved, knelt by his side and tried to raise the young man up. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’

His hand gripped hers. ‘Forgive them, they know not what they do. Always remember Northumbria.’

He closed his eyes and a peaceful expression crossed his face.

Annis hunched farther down as the Viken began to clamber on board, laughing and joking. They appeared to be elated with today’s work and she could think only of the countless lives that had been destroyed.

She recognised the backs of Haakon and his brother as they took up an oar very near her. The serpent ship began slide over the water, taking her away from Northumbria, from everything she had ever known.

A single tear trickled down her cheek. She allowed it to linger.

‘Some day I will regain my freedom,’ she vowed, clenching her fists. ‘I shall not remain this Viken’s slave for ever.’