A rustling noise approached, and Leif unsheathed his battle-ax, facing the sound. Katarina stared out into the darkness but could see nothing. Her hand moved to the hilt of her blade, while she took a slight step toward Leif. If she moved now, he might swing the ax at her.
Her heartbeat quickened until at last, she knew she could wait no longer. In one swift motion, she unsheathed her knife and slashed toward Leif’s throat.
But at the last second, he moved, and her weapon met nothing but air. She felt the sickening knowledge that he had anticipated her move, and his hand gripped her wrist, squeezing so hard, it felt as if the very bones were breaking.
She cried out in pain, and the blade slipped from her fingers. Leif shoved her to the ground and picked up the knife. “Was this what you were trying to do to me?” She watched in horror as he stabbed her brother’s shoulder with the blade, leaving it embedded in his flesh. Blood welled up from the wound, but Hrafn never made a sound.
With horror, she felt his pain as her own. “I’m so sorry,” Katarina whispered. It was her fault that Leif had done this—she should have waited longer.
“Or perhaps you wanted to slit my throat?” Leif ripped out the blade and brought the edge to the soft part of Hrafn’s neck.
Katarina felt the bile rise up in her gut, terrified of this man. “No.” Her whisper was so faint, she didn’t know if her voice had made a sound.
“How does it feel to be utterly powerless?” he asked. Leif picked up a burning branch from the fire, holding it near to the straw at Hrafn’s feet.
His taunt infuriated her, and Katarina bit her lip hard to keep from answering him. She would not reward him with obedience. With a sudden clarity, she understood that she would have to fight for herself and Hrafn. Leif was relishing his ability to hurt both of them. He would kill Hrafn soon, but what he craved was her reaction.
She lowered her face to the ground, and her action only provoked Leif further. “Look at him!” he roared. He jerked her to her feet, but she kept her head averted, refusing to play his game.
The grass rustled from nearby, and Oda appeared in the clearing. The dog lay down upon the ground, her flanks heaving.
Eric is here.She knew it with certainty. But only the gods knew whether he could stop Leif. She struggled against her enemy’s grasp, hoping that her fight would cause enough of a distraction to aid her husband.
“Let them go, Leif,” came Eric’s voice. It was calm and commanding. She turned to look at him and saw that he had unsheathed a sword in his right hand, while he kept a shield in his left. Behind him stood Valdr and half a dozen of their kinsmen who encircled Leif on all sides. She wanted to feel relieved, but instead, her pulse quickened. Her brother was still bound, and she knew that Leif could kill them both before anyone could save them.
“You’re going to watch her die, Thorgrim,” Leif said. She could feel the heat from the burning branch he held in his right hand, while his left hand remained at her throat.
“Let her go,” Arik countered. “It is finished. You cannot win this battle.”
“I am not afraid to die, if it means slaughtering my enemies.” Leif’s hand tightened over her throat. “I care not if you kill me. Katarina and Hrafn will still die, and I will have my vengeance.”
“The gods will judge you in the afterlife,” Eric said quietly. “Do you not think they will punish you for this? Is an eternity in Hel worth it?”
“Yes,” he answered. And with that, Leif tossed the torch upon the straw at her brother’s feet.
A scream tore from Katarina’s throat as she struggled to reach Hrafn, but the edge of the blade cut into her throat in a sharp sting. She froze, aware that she could do nothing to help her brother.
Dimly, she was conscious of the other men who hurried forward to put out the flames. Then she felt Leif’s arm tighten across her throat. She couldn’t breathe, and stars swam in her vision as she struggled to free herself.
Katarina’s last thought was filled with heartbreak and regret, before the world went black.
A roar escaped Eric’s throat as Katarina’s broken body fell to the ground. He had sworn to protect this woman, and right now, he didn’t know if she was alive or dead. They had only been together for a few weeks, but she had filled the emptiness in his life, making a place for herself. He had never imagined that he would come to love a Viking woman, but he did. He loved her beauty, her fiery spirit, and her soft heart.
Eric lunged toward Leif, no longer caring whether he died in this attempt. His mind was a flood of emotions, caught up with guilt, rage, and anguish.
The men tried to cut Hrafn free from the flames before he was burned alive. Smoke tainted the air and it was as if the world slowed down. He gripped his sword, releasing the instincts of a Viking barbarian. His enemy would die, and Eric would never cease until Leif breathed his last.
He gave in to instinct and charged forward, swinging his blade with both hands. Leif’s ax arced toward him, but Eric dodged the blow. His sword bit into a wooden shield, but he tore it free, aiming for the man’s head.
From deep within, he found a wilder side of himself that fought for every last breath. It didn’t matter that this man was bigger and stronger. Nor did it matter that his training was unfinished. There was only this fight, here and now.
Leif swung his leg hard, tripping Eric. He stumbled to the ground and rolled, just as his enemy hacked downward with the ax.
Eric seized a torch from the fire, swinging it toward the Viking’s feet. He was aware that his uncle’s men had freed Hrafn and the man was still alive. Another man lifted up Katarina’s fallen form, and it was all Eric could do not to snarl at them to leave her alone.
Above him, a reddish cloud slid across the moon, reminding him that he did not belong in this place. He was not of this time, but an anomaly meant to disappear. And despite his desire to live, to join with these people and make his way among them, he sensed it could never be.
“Mind yourself!” Valdr called out a warning.
