Sold To The Viking Warrior. Michelle Styles

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       Chapter Two

      Glad she had listened to her dog? Liddy kicked a small pebble, sending it clattering on the path. Coll gave her a look as if asking permission to chase it. Liddy shook her head and the dog stayed beside her.

      ‘Where are you taking me? We need to be going in the other direction towards the stronghold, towards Thorbin,’ Liddy said when Sigurd turned down another fainter track.

      Sigurd stopped so quickly she nearly ran into him. ‘I promise you—we will arrive in time for Thorbin to hear your petition. In fact, I will make certain of it. But we do it my way.’

      ‘You allowed me to think you were a lone traveller, but there are other Northman in your company,’ she guessed, her heart knocking against her chest. Her curse had struck again. She was going to be the ruin of Cennell Fergusa, rather than its saviour.

      ‘You failed to ask about the finer details. You can hardly blame me for that.’

      ‘Northmen always travel in packs. I’ve been a fool. Of course, it is an invasion force and you need to get someone inside.’ A sort of nervous excitement filled her. She had more options than taking Sigurd’s promise to release her father and brother on trust. She could spy out the land, determine where her father and brother were being held and free them in the confusion of the attack.

      His lips quirked upwards. ‘Thorbin certainly thinks there will be an invasion. He has fortified his stronghold. It can withstand siege.’

      ‘It is why you need someone on the inside—to open the gates.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I can get inside and then hide until late at night. I will be able to open the gates.’

      He picked up a stick and threw it for Coll. The wolfhound chased it and then came to Liddy with a sheepish air as if he knew she wouldn’t approve. ‘I will set a trap that he won’t be able to resist. The problem has been the bait, but you have solved that difficulty.’

      She fingered her mark. Had he missed it in the dim light? Thorbin would turn away in disgust. ‘You don’t understand. He won’t...that is... I am not desirable. You picked the wrong sort of woman.’

      He merely picked up the stick where Coll had dropped it. ‘I have the right woman.’

      ‘But...but...’ Liddy struggled to explain. If she mentioned her curse, he might abandon her.

      ‘Why not wait until you hear the full scheme?’ He put a steadying hand under her elbow. She jerked her arm away from him. ‘Better than making wild guesses, I always find.’

      ‘What happened the last time you and Thorbin met?’ Liddy asked to distract her from the unintentional comfort the light touch brought.

      ‘He thought he had killed me. This time I have the measure of the man. He has grown soft and arrogant. I will win this time, Eilidith of Cennell Fergusa. I have learnt from my mistakes.’

      The breeze whipped his hair from his face. He appeared utterly determined. Liddy glanced down at the ground. He might be the best hope her family had of surviving. She’d be foolish to walk away from him.

      ‘Then I am grateful you survived. I hope Thorbin will be less grateful.’

      A rumble of laughter rang through the morning air. Soft and low, doing something to her insides.

      ‘Is it something I said?’

      ‘You are refreshing, Eilidith.’ He gave a crooked smile. ‘Come meet my crew. Come learn what I will have you do.’

      ‘I would be better off being the one to open the gate,’ Liddy said to the ground. ‘I can’t see Thorbin being interested in me.’

      ‘You’ve never met him. I have. You will be perfect. Trust me on this.’

      * * *

      ‘Keep your dog under control until my men have been introduced. I would hate for anything to happen.’

      At Sigurd’s words, Eilidith curled her hand about the wolfhound’s collar. He nodded, pleased she had obeyed. He knew he’d almost lost her when he started to explain about his scheme, but she had recovered and stayed, rather than running, proving his instinct correct. The time had come to avenge his mother and make good his vow.

      Sigurd whistled softly through his fingers. Within a few heartbeats, Hring Olafson, an older warrior who Sigurd knew more from reputation and whom Ketil had decreed would be second in command of the felag, appeared from the shadows with a double axe in his hand, closely followed by his other oarsmen.

      ‘Where are the rest?’ Eilidith asked. ‘You can barely number more than twenty.’

      Sigurd gestured to his men. ‘Except for the ones who guard the boats, they are all here.’

      ‘This is your invasion force?’ Eilidith knelt beside her dog. ‘Perhaps I should have stuck with my first plan.’

      ‘They will be enough, you will see.’

      ‘We had given you up for dead. You were supposed to return three nights ago,’ Hring said, enfolding him in a rough СКАЧАТЬ