Let him go, her mind commanded.He is not yours.
Dimly, she was aware of him taking her away, of her brother speaking. And of Ivar’s silent reproach.
“Thank you,” she breathed. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you for what you’ve done for us.”
“Go with them,” he commanded, guiding her toward her brothers.
“What about you?”
He cleaned and sheathed his blade, saying nothing at all. In his brown eyes, Caragh saw the promise of farewell. She guarded her heart, refusing to beg for more than he could give. For she knew already that their paths would soon part.
Her gaze met Ivar’s, and she knew that there was one way to settle the debt with Styr. With one nod, she gave the promise theNorseman wanted. She would offer herself, in return for Styr’s men. And the gleam in Ivar’s eyes revealed his satisfaction.
She tried once more to prolong this moment with Styr. “What about your arm?”
He simply reached for his padded tunic and ignored the minor wound, lifting his chainmail armor over it. “Go,” he repeated.
With one last look at him, she obeyed.
It was late afternoon by the time Styr returned to Ivar’s house. Though he’d located his ship, he lacked the men to take it back again. And he still had a score to settle with the Norseman.
As he walked past the rows of longhouses, a strange sense of danger descended upon him. Though he could see nothing out of the ordinary, he kept one hand upon his battleaxe. His eyes moved over each of the people, though he tried to dispel the suspicions.
He saw a woman wearing the Norse garb of his homeland, and a trace of homesickness caught him. Already he missed the snow-capped mountains and the dark blue fjords that spanned between them. He half-wondered if he would ever go home. And whether Elena would be with him.
He tried to envision his wife’s face...but instead, he kept thinking of Caragh. She had thrown herself into his arms, repeating her gratitude to him. And like a fool, he’d held her.
Gods, but he was weak. Like a man starved for affection, he’d stood there and gripped her slight body against his own. It was wrong, in the very deepest sense. And were it not for his men and her brother Brendan, he would stay far away from the house of Ivar Nikolasson. Only temptation awaited him within these walls.
He needed to find Elena and mend his broken marriage. Perhaps the distance over the past sennight would make her fly into his embrace, the way Caragh had done.
But he couldn’t imagine it. Elena was cool toward him, not at all affectionate. If he found her, she would be grateful. She might even smile. But he couldn’t fool himself into thinking she would want his touch.
Styr let out a breath of air, and walked to the door of Ivar’s house. He entered and saw half a dozen of his men waiting. Though he’d promised to free them earlier, when Caragh’s brother had been found, he’d been unable to keep that vow.
That would change today. “Gather any of your belongings. We leave this night,” he said to Onund. Though he wasn’t certain how he would coerce Ivar into agreeing to it, there had to be something he could do.
But Onund only bowed in agreement. “We have been granted our freedom already. Because of her.” He nodded towards a table at the far end of the room.
Several female slaves were lined up before Caragh, holding lengths of silk and golden armbands. Gifts from Ivar, no doubt.
A tightness rose up in his chest at the sight of her. She wore a gown he’d never seen before, a deep green that rivalled the hills surrounding Hordafylke. The slaves had bound back her brown hair in braids, leaving some to fall across her shoulders. Upon her fingers, she wore silver rings and they had pierced her ears to wear more jewelry.
When she lifted her eyes to his, there was nothing but sadness within them. She knew, as he did, that soon enough he’d never lay eyes on her again. By wearing Ivar’s offerings, she had given her unspoken agreement to the man’s courtship.
Styr knew why his men were now freed and anger prickled his scalp, at the thought of the price she must have paid. Stridingacross the room, he came to stand before them. To Caragh, he spoke only one word. “Why?”
“Because it’s the only way I can repay you for saving Brendan.”
“By giving yourself to this man? What did you promise him? One night in your bed for each of them?”
She paled at the accusation, but stood tall before him. Ivar crossed the room, already reaching for Styr. “I should cut out your tongue for speaking words such as those.”
Styr caught Ivar before he could strike, holding him back. Yet, the man held fast with a strength that rivaled his own.
“Stop,” Caragh said quietly. “Ivar, let him go.”
“She’s staying with me, Hardrata. But you won’t stay the night under my roof.”
