Vikings: Revenge (The Great Heathen Army series Book 3) Page 10

  She gave a little snort and laughed. “My husband, I have not had soft hands since a child at Dunwich.”

  “They are soft to me.” He gave them one last kiss before releasing them. He looked into the distance, before turning back to her. “Nay, this time, I go through Briton as Ubba Ragnarsson, Chieftain of Ranaricii, son of Ragnar Lothbrok.” He puffed his chest out. “I have called upon twelve hundred warriors to come fight with me. We have twenty-three ships ready to sail to Combwich in Somersæte. From there, we will make our way to Cynwit Fort, where Bard is.”

  She tried again to change his mind. “It will be dangerous, Ubba. You could be killed.”

  “Not with all those warriors with me.” He smiled. “I will get my revenge and then, with a clear mind, return to you and our children to live in peace.”

  She shook her head, not wanting to hear his words.

  “You must be strong, Rosfrith.” He lifted her chin up with his finger. “Remember the Gods smile on strong women, my love. Go back to Ranaricii to rule until I join you again.”

  She felt tears welling her in eyes. Deep down, she understood his path, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Without her blessing, her life course had changed again, leaving her to feel directionless. She gave him a weak smile, not willing for their last words to be angry or regretful. She lifted her chin, attempting to be strong. “I will go back with our children, Ubba. But, I will wait for you by the shore, every day, until you return to me.” She rolled onto her toes to reach his lips. There was an emptiness in her heart she needed to fill.

  “Have we time to spend alone before you depart?” she asked, hearing her voice break.

  “I will always have time for you, my love.”

  She felt her tears start to fall down her cold cheeks.

  Four months later…

  “Take a break, mistress, you deserve one. Take a rest in your bed-closet, away from the chaos of the children.”

  Rosfrith gave Hilde a sideward glance, well aware that she had been watching her like a hawk since she’d returned to Ranaricii. She didn’t want to go to her room, it held no comfort without Ubba. When she noticed Hilde’s impatient gaze narrow on her, she smiled. “I am fine, I enjoy spending time with my children.” She passed Davyn a piece of bread. He was nearly three winters old and as strong as an ox. Ubba would be pleased. She felt her heart tighten but shook the loneliness off. “Overseeing that thing, this morning, listening to all the villagers’ problems, has taken away most of the day. I don’t know how Ubba did it.”

  Hilde nodded, putting her hands on her hips. “That’s what happens when you are the Chieftain. You are doing a good job, as well as any man, m’lady.”

  She laughed at the look on Hilde’s face before she swivelled towards her daughter and gently pinched her nose. “That’s right, Brigitta, listen to Hilde. You are as strong as any of your brothers.” She watched as Brigitta crossed her arms, and gave a narrowed look at her older brother, Ragnar. Her smile faded when she noticed the mean look flick over Ragnar’s face. Since they’d returned, try as she might, she couldn’t get Ubba’s oldest to warm to the twins. Brynjulf had no problems with them, and Davy, being so young, enjoyed having more children to copy and follow. She glanced at him again — he still had a spiteful look in his eye. She’d introduced them carefully, aware that there was little difference in age between them. But, naïvely, she’d thought that would be a bonus, not a threat. She was wrong and found out soon — when she caught Ragnar pushing his sister to the floor and pinching Arter. She understood that his mother, Astrid, wasn’t around, nor his father, but, like it or not, he was a part of the family, and was expected to act like it.

  She sighed heavily. With her responsibilities as Chieftain, she had little time to spend with the children to deal with the jealousy and arguments. Hilde did a good job, but she was older now, and sometimes missed the sly pinches and jabs. This is when she most longed for Ubba – to take some obligations from her shoulders. Eirik, her second in command, had turned out to be a huge help, but she was wise enough to know he would flounder if asked to sort out children’s problems. Mayhap, she might invite Astrid from Skåne for a visit? It could help settle Ragnar. Before she had time to think anymore, Hilde interrupted her.

  “If you won’t go for a rest in your bed-closet, please go and have some food. They have called.”

  She stood slowly. “All right, Hilde. If it will stop you plaguing me.”

  “Ay, you go and eat, I will keep my eye on the children.”

  Later in the evening…

  Eirik stepped out of the longhouse and scanned around, looking for fresh footsteps in the snow. He rubbed the back of his neck, twisting it as though it was sore. Rosfrith had disappeared from the table when his back was turned. He should have been more attentive, but Asmund had been talking, and as he’d neglected him of late, he felt obliged to listen.

  He breathed the cold air down into his lungs in an attempt to free the tightness in his chest. He pulled his cloak tighter and peered up at the darkening sky. He had to find her before the snowstorm hit. He’d never forgive himself if she was harmed. He took a step forward, knowing where he would find her. She was always in the same place.

  When Eirik saw her, standing on her own, silhouetted against the sea, he stood for a while and watched. The pain of longing he saw on her face for her husband always cut deep into his heart. He turned his gaze away, to calm himself — something he was used to as he’d kept his love for her deep inside, too respectful of her and Ubba to act. If only he’d realised his love for her before — when she was a mere thrall.

  He glanced towards the stormy sea and pulled his thoughts back together. The Gods had decided their paths, and he wouldn’t do anything to disrupt that. He would just have to make sure she was safe for Ubba’s return, so he walked up to her, forcing his pace to slow. “Please, come back into the warmth of the longhouse, Rosfrith. It is getting too cold for you to be standing out here.” He shoved his hands firmly inside his cloak, the need to touch her overwhelming.

  Rosfrith ignored Eirik’s plea and continued to look out onto the sea. It was getting rough. It was Winter and very few ships would make the crossing over the rough seas.

  “Please, Ubba will be annoyed if I don’t look after you properly.”

  She turned and smiled at him. “You do a good job of protecting me, Eirik. You are a true friend.”

  He kept silent, well aware his thoughts of her didn’t belong to a true friend. He watched her turn her beautiful face back towards the water until he felt cold seep through the seams of his leather boots into his woollen sock. “Come, mistress.” He stepped forward and gently grabbed her arm through her cloak. “If you don’t want to come in for yourself, think of the barn growing inside you.” When he heard her sigh, he knew he’d got through to her. She would not do anything to jeopardise Ubba’s baby. He forced a pretend smile on his lips and put his arm out for her to take.

  “All right, Eirik. I will return with you to the warmth of the hall for I am tired.” She stepped forward and reached out for him.

  “Good.” He squeezed her hand when her arm was linked with his. This was as physically close as he could get with her. For now.

  They turned and walked away, slowly through the snow, back to the village — both unaware of the approaching longboats on the dark horizon, highlighted by the silvery moon.

  Thank you for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed Ubba and Rosfrith’s adventures. Below is a list of my other works —

  Historical romances

  Copper (The Dillwyns’ series, book 1)

  Copper to Red (The Dillwyn’s series, book 2)

  Red (The Dillwyn’s series, book 3) — out soon

  ‘Isca — the Roman Fortress’

  Vikings: Taken (The Great Heathen Army series, book 1)

  Vikings: Deception (The Great Heathen Army series, book 2)

  Vikings: Revenge (The Great Heathen Army series, book 3)

  Contemporary
romance

  Persona

  Fantasy romance

  Twe12ve — twelve keys, one secret (Ragnarok series, book 1)

  Evren — out soon

  A chapter from Twe12ve — a book of Gods, crime, and coffee…

  Casey scowled at the two men in front of her. She recognised the tall, dark-haired one - he was one of the ones who brought her to this… She flicked a glance around - well, a white cube was all she could think of. The other stockier man, judging by his clothing, was some type of doctor. She just hoped he was a ‘good’ doctor, not one that was going to harm her.

  “Nice to see you again, Casey,” commented Loki, when her eyes flicked back to him.

  She glared at him. “It’s not nice to see you again,” she growled back.

  Loki laughed deeply. “Why so grumpy?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked daggers at him. He was in a good mood. He obviously got what he wanted – whatever that was. Her hand shot up to her neck. It was gone! “What have you done with my clothes and items?” she asked not willing to bring his attention solely to the key. There was a chance he didn’t know its value.

  “You’ll have everything returned after…”

  His pause didn’t make her feel comfortable.

  “Let’s just say, after the fun has happened.” He chuckled.

  A frown appeared on her forehead. Despite his jovial tone and mood, she had a feeling that there was no ‘fun’ involved— for her, anyway.

  Abruptly, Loki’s mood changed, again. “Put your clothes back on,” he waved towards one of the corners of the cube. “They are there. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  Casey watched them as they turned and left, both pushing their thumbs onto a pad. An opening materialised in the previously smooth surface.

  Once they had gone, Casey rushed over to her clothes and checked around. Darn, the key wasn’t there. Panicked, she searched again, but apart from the bed she’d been on and various medical equipment, the room was bare. She remembered they were coming back, and not wanting to be caught in a gown, she rushed to put her clothes back on. Instantly she felt better— less exposed.

  She crept over to the area they had left through. She looked at the thumb pad and wondered whether it would work for her. It was worth a shot. She placed her thumb on it. Nothing happened. She sighed.

  Without warning, the previously opaque wall turned transparent. She jumped back. Even though Loki had a smile on his lips, he was shaking his head back and forth. She heard his voice from within the cube.

  “Tut, tut. Did you really think you could get out?” He turned and nodded to two large men standing behind him. He turned back to look at her. “Move back towards the bed, Casey. And, if you don’t want to be hurt by,”— he gesturedtowards the men— “them, I suggest you be a good girl and do what you are told.”

  Fear rippled through her. When her adrenalin started to pump, her body gave her no option other than to fight or run. She watched the opening materialise, and knew she couldn’t run— fight it was, then.

  She took in a deep breath, conscious that she would never beat those two huge brutes, but she wasn’t willing to go with them without putting up a fight.

  When they stepped towards her, she grabbed the flimsy metal table, which had been next to her bed and pushed it towards them. She saw a flicker of surprise on their faces but knew it wasn’t enough to make any impact. Jumping over the bed, she grabbed the pillow in one hand, the monitor in the other. They neared the bed, and to Casey’s dismay, they separated, one walking to each end. She glanced at the slightly bigger one and launched the monitor at him.

  His bulk didn’t allow him to duck fast enough, and the corner of the machine caught his temple. As he faltered, Casey turned back to the other one who was advancing on her. She looked down to her hands and groaned. What use was a pillow? She shrugged. She’d had plenty of practice whacking her brother with it when they were kids; she’d just have to do it again – with a man three times as big.

  When he neared, arms outstretched, she noticed the glint of excitement in his eyes. That wasn’t good. With all her might, she swung the pillow.

  It had no effect whatsoever.

  Briefly, she saw his smile, before he lunged at her. She screamed and turned to run - straight into the other one.

  Large arms, as hard as stone, wrapped around her middle. She kicked and bucked with all her might, but the arms tightened, making breathing almost impossible. When she knocked her captor’s chin with the back of her head, she felt some satisfaction— but he didn’t let go. Kicking, she noticed the other one moving towards her. She scowled, wriggling even more. When his eyes turned blue, she couldn’t help but look at the bright light. Within seconds, she felt terrific pain. It wasn’t long before her thrashing became weaker, and she blacked out.

  A snippet from EVREN

  Chapter 1

  The cloudless night was cold and clear with only the sounds of owls, wolves, and the clank of iron chains breaking the night’s silence, while a trail of women made their way down the precarious mountain paths. None of the women voluntarily descended the mountain, but the pushes and jabs inflicted by their covered abductors forced them to continue their descent — regardless of their wishes.

  One of the women, Bilge, lost her footing and stumbled. She used all her strength to stop herself from falling onto the sharp jutting rocks, which covered the mountainous area. She normally prided herself on being surefooted, but the damp, cold night had left dew on the stones making them slippery under her soft, fur boots. She gained her footing swiftly, but winced as the chains around her wrists — rendering her hands useless for protection against the ground — jarred.

  Once she righted herself, she glanced around the darkness and attempted to work out which way they were being taken. Her brown eyes narrowed with frustration when she noticed one of the abductors looking her way. She wasn’t sure if he was watching her — as he was hooded — but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself or her sister, who was in front of her, so she looked straight ahead.

  They continued to descend in silence, and Bilge cursed their ill-fortune — not being prepared made everything so much more uncomfortable. Her heavier, rugged walking boots were still neatly laid at the end of her bed, where she’d left them last night. Unfortunately, some of the women were barely wearing anything under the cloaks that had been pushed at them to wear — they must have been taken from their bed-chambers. They’d torn her fur one, the one she’d been wearing, off her. She cursed, fingering the cloak she’d been given after she’d woken up form whatever foul smelling potion they had held over her nose. The cloak smelled familiar — a smell she was used to — but however hard she tried, of what, never came to her.

  Forcing herself to concentrate on how to get out of the situation, she eyed her sister’s back. Aysun was chained in front of her. She clenched her jaw. She hadn’t protected her — as was her duty. She could imagine their father’s face when he found out they’d been abducted. He would be livid that they had wandered off at night without guards, but he would be more disappointed that her training to protect her sibling, had gone to waste. She couldn’t blame him. They were both loved by their father — Lord Temir of the Asena Kingdom — but Aysun was the next in line to the throne. Aysun was a true blooded heir. She was not. Aysun’s mother had been the Queen, her mother, a slave.