She said nothing as he came to his feet and shook the dizziness from his head. With his hand still around her wrist, he pulled her with him over to the bear. He recognized the animal as the one he had disturbed from slumber a few days past.
“’Twould seem I did underestimate you, Brenna,” he said grudgingly, surveying the dead carcass. “You are as capable as you declared.” He looked at her sternly. “’Tis a pity I cannot trust you from my sight.”
“If I were loyal to you, then you could trust me, Viking,” she said almost bitterly.
He cocked a questioning brow at her. “Would you give loyalty?” Then he pulled her to him, gripping her shoulders painfully. “What do you want of me, Brenna?”
“Freedom!”
He shook his head angrily. “A free woman has many rights, among them the right to refuse a lover.”
“’Tis unlawful to rape a freewoman?”
“Aye.”
Brenna stiffened. “That is all you care about—raping me! Why is it so important that you have me and not another? You do not care for me as a woman. You have no thought for my feelings. You have proved that many times. So why must it be me?”
“Your body is most pleasurable, Brenna. ’Tis enough that I enjoy having you when I want you.”
“Mayhaps if you were a kindhearted man, ’twould be enough, Garrick,” she said quietly. “But you are harsh, and cruel in many ways.”
The look that came over Garrick’s countenance was frightening. He crushed her to him, the pressure of his powerful arms excruciating.
“’Tis me you have, mistress. I will have your word that you will not escape me again.”
“You cannot force my word from me, Garrick, for if you do, ’twill not be given freely, and I will not honor it.”
“Then you have set your own fate,” he said.
He pulled her over to the horses and set her atop Willow. There she waited obediently while he gathered their cloaks and weapons.
When Garrick mounted, he took her reins, not even trusting her to follow him. What fate had she set for herself with her stubborn pride? Brenna shivered, staring at Garrick’s still back. She would know soon enough.
The huge stone house loomed up before them, bathed in soft blue by the northern lights. It was night when Garrick led them into the stable. Erin came out hastily from the back, joy and relief glowing on his weathered, old face. This quickly turned to fatherly gravity.
“Shame on you, lass, for running away from us!” he said gruffly, though his eyes still gleamed his welcome.
“I did not run away from you, Erin, but from him,” Brenna replied, ignoring Garrick’s presence.
“Well, you gave me a mighty scare,” Erin continued. “You could at least have waited till spring, so you would have had less chance of freezing out there.”
“That is enough, Erin!” Garrick commanded, and took Brenna’s arm roughly.
She did not even have a chance to bid Erin farewell as Garrick pulled her along in the direction of the house. As they approached the back entrance, he turned to the right, toward the side of the house, and Brenna halted immediately.
“Where are you taking me?”
He did not answer, but yanked her along. Brenna held back, thus making it more difficult for him. She knew where he was taking her, yet she could not believe it.
On the side of the house facing the fjord was a small wooden door. Garrick threw it open. Cut in the door was a little square with iron bars affixed over it. Because of its nearness to the fjord, the room inside was dark and damp like an icy wet cavern.
Garrick stood aside. “Your quarters, mistress.”
She looked at him with horror in her eyes. “You would really put me in there?”
“’Tis the kinder of most punishments for running away,” he said in an impatient tone.
“How can you do this to me after I saved your life? Does that mean naught to you?”
