The world altered as sunlight seeped into the hall through the windows. Evidence of fire and bloodshed was much clearer in the light. The thick beams near the stairs were charred black and damaged more severely than anywhere else in the room. Floorboards and flagstones were stained in pools of dry blood. Stones in the main hearth—the loveliest feature in the room—were chipped and broken. Chairs and tables upturned in corners and tapestries her mother painstakingly collected from all over the world were shredded or singed.The house of Sinclair is finally reduced to ash and rubble to reflect the emotional ruins we’ve lived in for years.
She closed her eyes, willing the image of a perfect life into her head. Her mother alive—four children lovingly gathered at her feet. And her doting father eating nearby at the high table with a twinkle in his eyes. It was a heart wrenching fantasy.
Noelle returned to Brian’s side. He wore his customary arrogance like a war medal. Time stopped and everything moved in slow motion. Her eyes were painfully dry from lack of sleep, itched like they were filled with gravelly dirt. Her hair and clothing reeked of smoke and sweat, and her lungs ached. There was nothing worth saving in this cursed house—honor be damned. Not sire or friend could comfort her right now.
“Why?” she finally asked.
“Ophelia risked our lives by retaliating. Even after the truce was made, she stabbed one of their captains. I put her out of her misery once and for all.”
She swallowed yet another scream and flew at him, prepared to use the only weapons she possessed. Like a feral cat, she dug and scratched his face, intending to scar him for life. Brian recoiled and blotted his cheek—shocked at the wet stain on his hand. She raced behind him and jammed her fists into his spine—punching him over and over again.
He whirled. His heavy boot connected with her belly and sent her flying backward. She crashed to the floor and stared up at the ceiling in a daze. It had been a moment of foolish rage to think she could retaliate so boldly without him winning the fight. He abused women—sisters and lovers alike. A burst of pain broke her thought and she rolled onto her side, crunching her knees into her chest for relief.
She raised her head in time to see the Viking circling Brian like a predator stalking its prey before the kill. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Maybe he wanted to cut Brian’s head off.Do it.He was the most polarizing force in her life.Rid us of this disease. Everything he touches withers and dies.
He chanted something in that malignant tongue she’d heard him speak before and backhanded Brian so hard he stumbled several feet. Brian didn’t move again. But they stared hard at each other, rage arched between them. Then the Viking half-walked and half-shoved him across the room. Women along the east wall parted and scampered for safety. He didn’t stop until the back of Brian’s head hit the wall. Not giving her brother an opportunity to recover, the Viking punched him in the face and Brian’s legs buckled. He landed another blow, kicking him to the floor with a fluent sweep of his right leg.
Noelle’s blood pounded as she stood and hurried across the room. Rage had clouded her judgment. Although she wanted Brian to pay, let him face an English executioner with his bloody head firmly planted on a wood block, not die at the hands of these Norse invaders.
The Viking was unstoppable. She considered the look of violence in his eyes and slowly edged away. He unsheathed his weapon and raised it high above his head, but a guard intervened.
“Hva vil du gjøre med henne hvis hun hater deg før du går til ektesengen?” the guard said.
Judging by the severity of his tone, they must have been words of warning. She didn’t know if these men were organized by rank, but the larger of the two—the one who attacked her brother—froze with his sword midair. Brian lay at his feet, muttering nonsensically.
She knew little about these people. Only that they sailed superior ships and worshipped a deity named Odin. She believed his god’s fury filled his mind as he leaned over Brian. She shrank a bit when he grabbed a handful of her brother’s hair and lifted his head.
“I made these generous arrangements to spare the girl’s feelings. Not for your bloody convenience. You oweheryour life. She’s the only reason I’ll spare you. And if your other sister wishes to escape this hel, I’ll claim her, too.” Brian’s head hit the floor with a thud. “Worthless bastard…” he muttered, spinning on his heels, and staring down at her.
Stormy eyes threatened her sanity. She tried not to be deceived by his excellent features. Or drawn in by the smoothness of his bronzed complexion. The Viking seemed as harmless as the sharp end of an ice pick. And that voice—God help her.
His baritone possessed the ferocity she’d fantasized God’s might have, thundering from the burning bush. It put the fear of The Divine in her. Blond hair hung well below his shoulders, tightly braided at the temples. His broad cheeks, aquiline nose, and shapely lips were perfectly symmetrical. She marveled at his savage beauty. Although she resented everythinghe represented, secretly, she was grateful for his sudden appearance. What kind of a barbarian invades a castle and offers terms of surrender to its inhabitants?
She stared pensively at him. He wore a knee-length, chain mail shirt over leather. His boots were embossed with strange circular patterns and dyed a rich bluish-purple. Silver medallions were sewn around the toe line, very different from the rest of his men’s shoes. He had an air of regality about him. A chieftain, of that she had no doubt.
The longer she stayed in the room with him, the more her sense of reason fragmented. Nothing would ever be the same again. Brian was guilty of more than cold-blooded murder. He abused his power. But even now, she knew he could do no wrong in her father’s eyes. Noelle hated him for that. And the fact that she found herself regrettably obligated to this barbarian for rescuing her crushed her spirit.
What bleak future prospects. She folded her hands over her stomach and stared away as long as possible. Found her mind wandering back and forth between Ophelia and this arrangement that her brother spoke of. She didn’t care to add more weight to the burden she already carried. Mere speculation would only drive her crazy.
Instead, she drifted around the room in a silent frenzy and watched as the Norsemen came and went. They carried away piles of loot, depositing them on their ships. She attempted to memorize the faces of her father’s soldiers, surmising which men had died in battle. Her father found little use for keeping formal ledgers. In a situation such as this, it would have proven much easier than merely guessing who the survivors were.
She remembered the identities of the women easily. Thirty-three maids were grouped together. The children were obviously cloistered somewhere upstairs. And Brian wisely kept his place on the floor, probably too afraid to move. There was nothingmore she could do here. It seemed a selfish way to think, but if she didn’t leave, she might do something she’d regret later. Like kill her brother… Noelle slipped away.
Chapter Three
Eyes of a Stranger
Randvior halted asthe beauty made her way to the doors. His men started after her, but he stopped them. No harm in letting her go, for now. Give her time to work through the torture and torment. Wherever she went, he knew he would eventually find her.
The climate in northern England made him appreciate the place even less. He forbade his men from drinking more because he feared it might affect their already diminishing spirits. Nothing would have kept them from overindulging in food and drink, except for his direct command. Andhismen, like any, might resort to violence once their gullets were wetted. This place had a way of picking away at a man’s soul.
The only light he had found within the suffocating darkness of Durham seemed to be the girl. Her unwavering allegiance to her kinsmen and servants restored his faith. It made him reconsider his long held opinion that women served only one true purpose. Pleasure… He remembered only a handful of accomplished females he’d met in his travels. They were spinsters and widows who had dedicated their lives to attaining wisdom. Although young and stubborn, Noelle was composed of the same commendable qualities. And she fascinated him.
Randvior entrusted the management of the takings and preparation of his ships to his men, then found a private spaceto sit and clear his head. He propped his head on his hand. He’d never imagined coming here, but Odin’s vision determined his path. The elusive deity was known to favor his family, and if he demanded an unplanned stop, who was he to defy his patron god?
His men were restless after a season that yielded little profit andnoaction.These are the risks I am willing to take to solidify my holdings and establish new steadings. The prospect of a quick raid south ended all complaints. Bound by oaths of allegiance, his captains and foot soldiers went wherever he commanded. And if the gods denied good fortune, blood sacrifices compensated for whatever bad omens attracted their disfavor.
Fortunately, Durham yielded enough silver and gold to go around. And a woman he felt an instant attraction for. She broke his concentration too easily already. He grinned, felt an uncomfortable stir between his legs, and cursed his rebellious body. The last thing he wanted was to run around with an erection, when he didn’t even know where its inspiration had fled.
