Page 56 of The Outlaw Viking

“My lady, I have survived these ten years past without the worrisome fretting of a bothersome female. Do not think I welcome your meddling concern now.”

Rain tilted her head questioningly. “And who was the woman who fretted over you then?”

Her question startled Selik, and for a moment he knew his face revealed his pain. “Go away, Rain,” he said in a tired voice. “Your concern is misplaced.”

“Tykir told me why you left, Selik, and I just want to say that I’m sorry I called you a beast before. I’m trying to understand you, I really am, but—”

“Tykir had no right to interfere in my life, and I will tell him so. And the last thing I want from you is understanding.”

“What do you want from me then?”

He lifted his chin and stared at her impassively. “Not a blessed thing.”

Rain’s face colored, but she persisted. “I’ve had a lot of time to think while you were gone, and I realize now that there is good in every man.”

“And who named you God, to be my judge or any man’s?”

Rain cringed under his punishing assessment of her failings, but still she went on doggedly. “I need to remember that whatever evil things you do must be balanced by the crimes against you in your past.”

“And did Tykir’s blathering tongue reveal those events, as well?” he asked icily.

“No, he told me to ask you.”

Selik leaned against a support beam and eyed Rain contemptuously. The witless wench prodded him and did not recognize the danger of his churning anger. “I took no scalps this time. I know you checked.”

She nodded reluctantly, no doubt recognizing the silky menace in his voice.

“And didst thou think I had suddenly turned pacifist?”

“Of course not. But it has to be a sign—”

“Sign? Looking for signs, are you? Lord, you are dangerous in your lackwittedness!” He grabbed her by the forearms and shook her, as if that motion could knock some sense into her thick head. “How many men do you think I killed these past sennights? Ten? Twenty? Fifty? A hundred?”

With each increasing number, her eyes widened larger and larger with dismay. Tears welled in her honey eyes and spilled over, some dripping onto his bare hands like liquid fire.

“Selik, I think I love you,” she cried out. “God help me, but I love you.”

Selik’s heart lurched at her totally unexpected declaration. It took all his willpower not to pull her into his arms and relish the moment—and the precious, precious words.

I love you. Nay, it could not be true.

I love you. Why was she teasing him so? Why did God torment him thus? His senses reeled with rage. He had not felt so strongly since he had found his wife’s body, ravaged and mutilated. Or when he got his first glimpse of his infant son’s skull carried on the pike of a Saxon soldier.

I love you. Selik pushed her away roughly and banged his fist against the wood partition separating the horse stalls. The rotting wood crumbled on impact, and he kicked it aside angrily. With a growl of frustration, he spun on his heel.

I love you. Nay, Selik screamed silently. He did not want her love. He could not bear so much pain again.

Holding his hands to his pounding head, Selik rushed through the courtyard, ignoring the calls of concern from Ubbi and Tykir. Without direction, he headed around the keep and off toward the woods and a nearby pond that the Ravenshire inhabitants used for bathing. In a daze, he dropped his garments to the ground and waded into the icy water, continuing past the ledge which led to a steep drop. Seeking the balm of hard exercise, he began to swim back and forth, back and forth across the still waters.

But he could not forget. Not the past. Not the present, with Rain’s unintentionally cruel, heart-stopping words. And, most of all, not his empty, hopeless future.

It had been ten years ago, ten long agonizing years, and yet the images remained frozen in his head as if they had happened only yesterday.

Selik shook his head angrily as he continued his grueling swim, trying to erase the horrendous memories. But the memories of Astrid and his young son haunted him every moment of his life.

Those events ten years ago marked the beginning of Selik’s vendetta against all the Saxons, and he had waged it bloodily. The elusive Gravely still escaped his stalking, but Selik had taken hundreds of Saxon lives on the way to his ultimate goal of destroying the demonic Earl of Gravely.

He could not be detracted from his single-minded goal of vengeance by a peace-loving angel from the future. Nay, Selik could not be moved from his chosen path.