Sold To The Viking Warrior. Michelle Styles
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he travelled to this island. My brother was but a mewling babe at the time. The tribute has always been paid. No one has ever accused my father of treason...until now.’
Liddy shook her head. She refused to think about the pitiful state of the fields, barely tended in the summer sun. According to her mother, her father had hidden the seed and the gold before he left. Without fresh seed, they stood no chance of having a good harvest and making the tribute.
She gritted her teeth. ‘If necessary, I will go to Lord Ketil and remind him of his sworn oath to my father.’
She hoped he wouldn’t hear the lie in her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was to travel on the sea. The thought of being on the open sea, out of sight of land, terrified her.
‘Will you indeed?’
‘What other option do I have?’
Sigurd regarded the small woman who stood in front of him. The faint light showed him that Eilidith’s hair was auburn, not black as he’d first imagined it. Like the sun setting on a clear summer’s day. The butterfly-shaped mark under her lower lip took her face from bland to intriguing.
She’d shown courage to come to this place with simply a large dog for protection. The only other women he could think of who would have done such a thing were his mother and Beyla, the woman he had given his heart to back in the days when he thought he had a heart. Beyla had chosen safety over their passion, and his half-brother, the man who was now jaarl over this island, Thorbin, over him.
‘I believe you could travel to Ketil and demand justice, as is any ring bearer’s right,’ he said to distract his thoughts from unwanted memories. ‘But Thorbin might have a great reluctance to see a prize like you go. Have you thought about what you might do then?’
She thumped her chest, like a warrior, rather than a lady. ‘I gave a sacred vow that I will see my father free or perish in the attempt.’
Sigurd stood straighter. Had his mother been like that once? Strong and resolute instead of jumping at shadows as she’d done during the last few years of her life? ‘The world would be a poorer place if you died. You obviously have a family who care about you.’
She lifted her head and assessed him as if he were a prize bull at the market. ‘Does Thorbin fear you or someone else more?’
‘Thorbin’s long-delayed day of reckoning has arrived. It gives me immense pleasure to know that I will be the one to ensure it happens. I, too, have a vow I want to see fulfilled.’
Islay was the lynchpin in Ketil’s strategy for the Western Isles. He who controlled Islay, controlled the lucrative trade between Ireland and Alba. All the sea roads flowed past this island. Because of the whirlpool north of Jura, the quickest way to transport goods was overland. Thorbin’s rule had begun a year ago last spring. At first Thorbin’s star flourished and Sigurd had despaired of ever finding a way to avenge his mother, but Thorbin’s tribute had been short at Yule. In the early spring Ketil had sent a man to investigate. When he returned, pickled in a barrel with an insulting message, Ketil finally lost patience with his protégé and ordered Thorbin to return to explain himself. It was Sigurd’s task to deliver the message and ensure Thorbin returned to face the accusation.
Sigurd had spent the last week scouting out the stronghold, coming up with a plan, once he realised sailing up the strait and landing his boats was doomed to failure. His half-brother was no one’s fool. It was obvious that he considered himself immune from retribution. But he’d also taken precautions. The bay was heavily guarded as well as all entrances and exits to the fort.
He felt sorry for this woman’s plight, but in all likelihood her brother and father were already sold or dead. She and the ring she carried, however, were tools he could use.
‘I have learnt that things rarely happen by chance. Our paths have crossed for a purpose,’ he said carefully, aware she had not answered him. ‘Let us fulfil that purpose. Let us together hold Thorbin to account.’
Her jaw became mutinous and her blue-green eyes flashed, becoming like the summer sea after a storm. ‘Why should I trust you, Sigurd Sigmundson? Why are you not going to be exactly like every other Northman? Exactly like Lord Thorbin?’
He ignored the flash of anger at being likened to his half-brother and forced his voice to sound placating, as if he were trying to soothe a nervous horse. He had to give her some reason to make her trust him. ‘We knew each other when we were children. I know his strengths, but also his weaknesses. It is why Lord Ketil gave me this task. I am the only man who can defeat him, but to do that I have to get close to him.’
Her neat white teeth nibbled her lower lip, turning it the colour of the dawn. ‘And you can save my family when you defeat Lord Thorbin?’
‘If they are on Islay, I will. If not, I will go to Ketil and personally lay your claim at his feet.’
‘Why are you suddenly willing to help me?’
‘To prove to you not all Northmen are the same. I remember my debts and I keep my vows.’
She tucked her chin further into her shoulder, hiding the butterfly mark. ‘I need some time.’
Sigurd carefully shrugged and pretended indifference as he handed the dog his last piece of dried meat. The dog put his paws on Sigurd’s shoulders and licked his face with his great wet tongue.
‘Coll, bad dog!’
The dog instantly sat, licked his chops and looked hopefully for another piece.
‘Your dog believes in me. He wants me to save you. Will you join forces with me?’
She bent her head and spoke to the dog before she held out her hand. ‘I may regret this, but we join forces until the time comes for the alliance to end.’
He closed his hand about her slender fingers and resisted the urge to pull her close and taste her mouth. Eilidith of Cennell Fergusa was a tool to be used, not a woman to be enjoyed. He never mixed business with pleasure. He reluctantly released her and stepped away, being careful to keep his face blank. He had discovered the perfect weapon to crack open Thorbin’s fort and destroy him. He would fulfil the vow he’d made as he watched the glowing embers of his parents’ funeral pyre.
‘You will be glad you listened to your dog.’
Glad she had listened to her dog? Liddy kicked a small pebble, sending it clattering on the path. Coll gave her a look as if asking permission to chase it. Liddy shook her head and the dog stayed beside her.
‘Where are you taking me? We need to be going in the other direction towards the stronghold, towards Thorbin,’ Liddy said when Sigurd turned down another fainter track.
Sigurd stopped so quickly she nearly ran into him. ‘I promise you—we will arrive in time for Thorbin to hear your petition. In fact, I will make certain of it. But we do it my way.’
‘You allowed me to think you were a lone traveller, but there are other Northman in your company,’ she guessed, her heart knocking against her chest. Her curse had struck again. She was going to be the ruin of Cennell Fergusa, rather than its saviour.
‘You failed to ask about the finer details. You can hardly blame me for that.’
‘Northmen always travel in packs. I’ve been a fool. Of course, it is an invasion force and you need to get someone inside.’ A sort of nervous excitement filled her. She had more options than taking Sigurd’s promise to release her father and brother on trust. She could spy out the land, determine where her father and brother were being held and free them in the confusion of the attack.
His lips quirked upwards. ‘Thorbin certainly thinks there will be an invasion. He has fortified his stronghold. It can withstand siege.’
‘It is why you need someone on the inside—to open