Passion's Fury (Viking's Fury Book 3) Read online

  Tonight, her aim was the forest, to the white stone altar where generations of her kinswomen had made blood sacrifices to the gods in search of answers. Cages containing birds and rabbits were kept nearby so anyone in need could fulfill their sacrificial duty. Unlike the White Christ, Viking gods required fresh blood to intervene on the behalf of a mortal.

  More than anyone, Runa needed help, desperately. If her eldest brother had his way, she’d be married by tomorrow and sent away. Away from the place she loved and everyone she knew. Marriage didn’t excite her the way it did other women. Oh, she appreciated the idea of joining with a man. It must be special, for why else would a temple maiden be forbidden to have sex? Everybody must sacrifice something to serve Odin.

  She arrived at the clearing where the altar stood. Bonfires were lit nightly and watched over by two priests who lived in a cottage in the woods. Ringed by ancient trees, the space had been carefully planned long before the main longhouse had ever been built. Wherever she stood, moonlight hit her and illuminated the sacred clearing in silvery light. She gazed skyward then, admiring the stars and thin veil of clouds. Inches of snow covered the ground, but the holy men and their servants labored each day to clear as much of it as possible.

  “Hear me, great Odin. I am but a mere girl. Prisoner in my brother’s house. A thrall possesses more freedom than I. For I am expected to choose a husband from among the men sitting in the great hall. All of them fall short of my favor.” She wiped a single tear from her eye, overcome with emotion suddenly. “I do not wish to leave the Trondelag for a man. I wish to leave by own accord—to travel northward to the shadowlands where your temple sits. Where my unknown sisters wait for me in the shelter of your holy place. Where I can see and hear you daily. Where men do not interfere with life. Where I can call upon your name and know my privacy will be respected.”

  There was so much more to say tonight. Heart full of feelings and her mind filled with unspoken words, she hoped for a sign from her beloved god.

  “I am not a dreamer as my brother claims. My thoughts are rooted in reality. I seek no wealth or comfort beyond what I need to sustain me. Though I adore children, I have never desired to give birth. To marry. To serve a man when I can serve you.” She dropped to her knees, still steps away from the altar stone. “Roald is my jarl. I am bound by blood and honor to obey him. But he doesn’t take my feelings to heart. I am but an empty vessel to him, born to advance his holdings, to secure an alliance with another family. Am I selfish or wrong to seek a way closer to you, Allfather?”

  She paused, waiting to hear if the wind carried Odin’s voice as it had once a long time ago. At six, she’d heard the god’s voice while she sat in the center of the clearing one night alone. Before she could answer, one of her sire’s captains had snatched her up and taken her back to the women’s quarters, leaving a hole in her heart.

  Perhaps that moment had determined her fate—turned her into the restless girl she’d grown up to be. Shaped her into a woman who had little regard for tradition and family responsibilities. More important things existed in the world. The sanctity of the gods was being challenged, a new faith from across the North Sea had invaded the southern reaches of her country recently. And bloody battles were being waged to resist the White Christ. She wanted to do her part to protect the old ways, to safeguard her own faith.

  “Roald fate-binded me to my brother, Konal, as a means to control me. Reveal to me how I can break this curse.”

  She rose to her feet, then walked the short distance to the altar. The nearest cage held three chickens, near frozen from the cold. Though she preferred the blood of wild birds over domesticated ones, she’d do what she had to. As she reached for the latch on the wire door, she heard a twig snap.

  “Lady Runa,” Thorolf called.

  She closed her eyes and cursed under her breath. Why did this man appear at the times he did? And why did her heart skip a beat whenever he said her name? Did she even need to ask? She turned around, finding him in the clearing.

  The captain had jumped into action to defend her honor after Jarl Skrymir had insulted her. For that, she, once again, owed him endless gratitude. But this time, he was intruding. “What are you doing here, Captain?”

  “Protecting you.”

  “From what?” she asked. “Moonlight?”

  He shook his head and came closer. “From many things, Lady. Including men who deserve to die.”

  She watched him closely, appreciative of his presence. Did the man even know how handsome he was? Did he know other men feared him? Not just for his hulking frame, but the way he carried himself—silent and deadly—formidable in every way she could think of.

  “You want to cut the jarl’s head off his shoulders?”

  “Aye, I do. And feed his liver to the ravens. Think what kind of answer his entrails would get you from the gods.”

  She couldn’t resist laughing. “Perhaps we could join forces after Skrymir has gone to bed.” Only a couple feet from her now, she could see the intensity in Thorolf’s eyes, could actually feel it, like heat coming off a fire.

  “A fantasy,” he commented.

  “A good one.”

  “Aye.”

  “Did my brother send you?”

  “Yes. But I would have come anyway.”

  She rubbed the nervous sweat from her palms on her cloak. “What will happen after I’m married and no longer have someone like you to keep me out of trouble?”

  “Do you mean what you say to Allfather?”

  Her shoulders drooped then, for her words were meant for the gods alone. Someone might think her mad for speaking as freely as she did—for saying what she dared say. “I do.”

  “I-I…”

  She’d never heard the captain stutter before. “What is it?” she asked, concerned.

  “I am humbled, lady. Truly. If I could change your brother’s mind, I would.”

  “Thank you, Captain. My sister-in-law has tried to reason with Roald, too. I’ve begged and argued with him, to no avail. He is determined to carry out my sire’s wishes. You and I know dead men have no power in Midgard. Even from Valhalla, all Father can do is watch over us.”

  “Surely you understand the importance of a dying man’s wishes. Especially if Jarl Roald swore an oath. Men live by different standards than women, are expected to do certain things without fail.”

  Runa crossed her arms over her chest, not liking his last words. “I am less a person because I do not have a …”

  “Never,” he cut her off, obviously anticipating what she was going to say. “Not less a person, just different.”

  “Yes. Decidedly so, Captain.”

  “I have offended you.”

  “Nay. I am disappointed. You often think as I do, or at least agree with what I say. So when you don’t, it bothers me. Sometimes I think you come from a different place, another world even.” She gestured at the stars.

  “What world?” He followed her gaze.

  “Asgard?”

  “You see me as a god?” He puffed his chest out. “I will remember that in the future.”

  She chuckled. “Perhaps Jotunheim is a better fit for you, Thorolf.”

  He laughed. “I am no giant.”

  “But you are,” she argued, once again staring at him for too long, her admiration never hidden. “Or maybe you’re from one of those blazing stars. A place no man has ever heard of.”

  “I like to see you smile. To hear your laughter.”

  She sighed. “It seems this happy moment must come to an abrupt end.” She searched his face for any sign that she might be wrong, but Thorolf’s expression sobered. “My brother demands my return to apologize to our guests.”

  “No,” he said. “In fact, I’m sure our lord would rather you stay away. However, I am here to make sure you atone for your misdeeds by offering a sacrifice to Odin.”

  “My brother doesn’t have that right.”

  “Why, Lady? Why do you struggle so hard, make life mo
re difficult than it need be? There are ways to pacify men, even one as rigid as Jarl Roald.”

  “And you’re going to instruct me on how to please my brother? How to deceive him?”

  He shook his head. “Never to deceive.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I must take care to choose my words more precisely when speaking with you, Captain.”

  “The men your brother has selected as possible husbands are going to be here for days. Try to get to know them. I can answer whatever questions you have about one or all, with the exception of the dark bastard.”

  “This will ease the tension between Roald and me?”

  “There’s more if you’re willing to listen.”

  “Aye.”

  “You have no choice but to pick a husband. Once you’ve selected one, ask your brother to grant you some time to visit where this suitor lives, to get to know his family, to see how he treats his people. I will do whatever I can to help you in this cause, including advising Jarl Roald to grant you this small request. If you find the man unsuitable once you’ve gotten to know him, return home. It is not a perfect solution, Lady, but it gives you time to adapt to your new circumstances.”

  “And quite possibly prevent me from marrying the wrong man.”

  “Aye. Jarl Roald will assign several guards to accompany you, too. I will make sure to be among them.”

  Runa wet her lips. Why? lingered in her mind. The same question that always dominated her thoughts whenever Thorolf was involved with her. Why would he do this? Why was he always willing to help her? Why did he care a fig for where she ended up? Why did he always look like he was staring right through her? Better yet, staring into the depths of her being…

  She kept those intimate inquiries to herself, though. The captain had already done more than expected. “I will think this over.”

  “I am glad to hear it.” He walked around her, stooped down in front of the cage, opened it, then grabbed one of the chickens by the neck. “Time to uphold your brother’s command.”

  Yes—she’d do that at least.

  Thorolf wrung the bird’s neck, the most merciful way to sacrifice an animal. Then he laid the creature over the flat altar stone and unsheathed his long knife and gave it to her.

  She moved closer to the altar. “Hear me, great Odin…” Murmuring a more customary chant this time, Runa fulfilled her obligation to Roald. She’d not give her brother any reason to doubt Thorolf’s devotion. With one sure cut, she shed the necessary blood to attain absolution from the gods for her supposed disobedience.

  Chapter Nine

  Two days later, Thorolf found himself the unfortunate victim of his own advice to Runa. She’d chosen one of her suitors to spend time with and now the captain acted as their chaperone, shadowing her and Prince Axel on an afternoon walk.

  The prince fingered a strand of Runa’s long hair. “Tis as soft as a flower petal,” he said.

  Thorolf rolled his eyes, wishing he was at the practice field with the other soldiers instead of overhearing lovespeak that made him want to punch a tree, or even the prince himself.

  “Thank you,” Runa whispered, batting her eyelashes like a mindless girl.

  Thorolf hadn’t imagined Runa would embrace the role of the obedient sister so enthusiastically. Or that she’d welcome the admiration of one of her suitors so easily. Regardless, Jarl Roald welcomed the sudden change in her behavior and even thanked Thorolf for setting his sister on the right path.

  The sooner my sister is wed and away from the Trondelag, the sooner we can focus on the political benefits from her union, the jarl had told him only yesterday.

  Runa hadn’t exaggerated about her brother’s motivations for finding her a husband. It pained Thorolf to think his lord didn’t realize her full potential. How her talents might be wasted on a man who didn’t understand or deserve her. The captain did, however—completely. And though his hands were tied when it came to interfering on her marriage plans, the one thing he could do, would do, was to see her happy and safe. His sword was pledged to protect her from harm. And if that meant flaying a prince, so be it.

  “I am aware of your love for the gods,” Axel said. “There is a family altar near my home. The stones were transported from my birthplace.”

  “All the way from Sweden?”

  “Aye,” he said.

  “How did you come to live in Norway? Why are you not with your family?”

  The prince stopped walking. “I have six brothers and eight sisters,” he explained. “The island of Gotland isn’t large enough to support all of us. My father has struggled to distribute our inheritances fairly. But I am the third son. When my sire offered to give me his lands here, I gladly accepted.”

  “Fifteen children?” Runa asked. “Your mother gave birth fifteen times?”

  Axel chuckled at her shocked expression. “Aye.”

  “Is she still…”

  “Alive and well,” Axel assured her. “Though she is no longer breeding.”

  “Praise Odin for that.” Runa covered her mouth then. “I am sorry, Prince Axel. I have a bad habit of speaking my mind without thinking about what I say first.”

  Again, the good natured prince smiled. “Tis one of the things I like most about you. Rest assured you need not fear for your health, Lady Runa. If I am fortunate enough to be chosen as your husband, I wouldn’t expect you to have so many children. Six or seven would please me fine.”

  Thorolf waited for Runa to say something—to reject the prince’s dream of such a large family. But she didn’t speak, only stared northward, in the direction the footpath followed.

  “Of course, I would like a son or two,” Axel continued. “But I favor my nieces over most of my nephews. So I’d be equally happy with daughters.”

  “How many nieces and nephews do you have?” Runa queried.

  “Fourteen.”

  “Your parents must be overjoyed by so many grandchildren.”

  “Aye.”

  “As you know, I have two nephews and one niece. I adore all three.”

  They wandered a bit further up the trail.

  “You have been very kind to me, Sir.” Runa addressed the prince. “If it pleases you, I’d like to visit your home before I make a decision about who I want to marry.”

  “Please me?” Axel cradled her hands between his. “I’d consider it an honor. You understand it is far north from here? It would take a week of steady travel. But I promise you, the landscape rivals the beauty of the Trondelag. Wildflowers as far as the eye can see—peaks twice as soaring as the ones about us now. My longhouse is situated between two fjords. I own thirty ships, Lady Runa. A fleet fit for a king. Enough vessels to aid your brother if ever he is attacked by his enemies. Enough men to lay ruin to any rival.”

  Thorolf didn’t like where the conversation was going. Prince Axel possessed wealth and power. Many thought highly of the man—he had a reputation for being fair with his people. But when it came to protecting his holdings, to defending his family’s honor, Axel had earned a name for himself in Norway—The Golden Avenger.

  The captain silently scrutinized the prince, taking in his light hair and icy eyes. Royal blood flowed through his veins. If Runa chose him, their children would be princes and princesses. And she … the captain looked at Runa then. She, too, would be a princess.

  “Let us not waste any more time,” Axel said. “I will speak with Jarl Roald tonight.”

  “Aye,” Runa agreed, allowing the prince to hold her hand as they headed back to the longhouse.

  *

  “She has outwitted me this time,” Jarl Roald complained as he paced the length of his solar. “Where did she get the idea to visit Prince Axel’s home? How did she even know to ask?”

  Thorolf wouldn’t volunteer any information unless his lord asked him directly.

  “The worst of it is I am obligated to say yes. If I don’t, I risk offending the man I want most for an ally.” Roald stared at Thorolf. “Have you nothing to say about i
t?”

  “I will accompany her, of course.”

  “Yes.” The jarl rubbed his chin. “You seem to share a close relationship with my sister. She obviously trusts you—feels comfortable enough to confide in you.”

  “Aye.”

  “And did she give you any warning about this?”

  “No, milord.”

  “Did she visit my wife or Silvia recently?”

  “Nay.”

  “The spaewife?”

  “No.”

  “Perhaps Konal? He’d counsel her this way—help her avoid getting married for as long as she could.”

  “With the exception of being abed, Runa has never been out of my sight.”

  “I am left with no choice. Inform my sister that her request is granted. Pick three other guards you trust to escort Runa and Prince Axel to his home. I expect regular reports, Captain Thorolf. Fair warning, your journey will take you very near Odin’s temple, a place I know my sister longs to visit. Under no circumstances is she to be allowed to go there. And if you value my opinion, when you come within a hundred miles of the place and make camp, tie her to the closest tree. For I have no doubt she’ll try to run away or manipulate the prince into stopping there.”

  Feeling much like a length of rope being tugged from both ends, Thorolf knew he needed to settle things with the jarl before he left the Trondelag. “Do I have your permission to speak freely?”

  Roald poured himself a measure of mead and gulped it down, then offered Thorolf a drink. “Don’t we have an understanding, Thorolf?”

  “Aye.” The captain accepted the cup and drank his fill.

  “The reason I value you so much—entrusted you with the honor of guarding my family—is because I know you speak only truth. You need not seek my permission whenever you have something to say.”

  “If I am to serve your sister without fail, I need you to release me from my oath to you.”

  Roald frowned. “Why?”

  “A man cannot serve two masters.”