Viking Warrior Read online

  Then Reyna saw something that stole the breath from her lungs. While Wulf defended himself against a frontal attack from two Finns, a third crept up on him from behind. Wulf was very close to dying and she was the only one who saw it coming.

  Without a thought for her own safety or a valid reason for reacting as she did, Reyna tightened her grip on Olaf’s sword and ran out the door to Wulf’s defense. Vaguely she heard Thora calling to her. Though the place where Wulf fought for his life was of no great distance, every step seemed to bring Reyna no closer to Wulf and the Finn attacking him from behind.

  Sweat pouring down his face, bleeding from several superficial wounds, Wulf used his formidable strength to wield his weapons against the two Finns moving in for the kill. Wulf wasn’t ready to die, even though a warrior’s death would earn him the right to be carried to Valhalla by Odin’s handmaidens.

  With a forceful thrust of his sword he vanquished one of the warriors while jostling for position to deliver the killing blow to the second. But the Finn was a skilled warrior, nearly equal to Wulf in strength and skill. Nevertheless, Wulf was gaining the upper hand when he heard a strangled cry behind him. Not daring to turn his back on his opponent, he cut him down with a slash of his battle-axe and whirled to face the unknown enemy at his back.

  Horror-stricken, he glanced first at the body sprawled on the ground and then at Reyna, who stood as if in a trance with a bloody sword dangling from her fingers. All color had drained from her face as she stared at the Finn lying at her feet.

  Wulf was no idiot. He knew immediately that Reyna had just saved his life. How she’d found the strength or why she’d done it escaped him. But the danger was not yet over. Another Finn came hurtling at him with raised sword and a blood curdling war cry.

  “Return to the hall, Reyna!” Wulf shouted.

  As if coming out of her trance, Reyna turned and fled. Unfortunately, she ran straight into the arms of a massive Finn retreating from the battle. He scooped Reyna into his arms and fled with his captive to the fjord and his dragonship.

  When Wulf saw the Finns fleeing, he knew the Norsemen had broken the attack. He tasted victory when his opponent ceased to defend himself and turned to flee. His sword held high, Wulf shouted a Viking victory cry and gave chase. That was when he saw Reyna being carried off by the enemy. Rage coursed through him as his protective instincts took over.

  Reyna struggled fiercely in her captor’s arms; her pale hair scraped the ground as the Finn flung her over his shoulder. Wulf’s enraged war cry alerted Hagar, who was closer to the Finn than Wulf. Seconds before the Finn reached his dragonship, Hagar tackled him, sending both men and Reyna to the ground. Rising swiftly, Hagar put a quick end to the Finn with a wicked slash of his sword.

  Reyna lay still as death on the hard ground, her glorious hair pooling around her. Wulf reached her in two long strides, scooped her up into his arms, leaving the fleeing Finns to Hagar and the Norse defenders.

  Wulf carried Reyna to his sleeping alcove and placed her on the bed. Reyna moaned and opened her eyes. Wulf dropped to his knees beside the bed and stroked strands of matted hair from her forehead.

  “What happened?” Reyna asked.

  “You tell me. Why did you leave the hall? What ever possessed you to place your life in danger?”

  Reyna struggled to sit up. “A simple ‘thank-you’ would suffice.”

  Her words took the wind out of his sails. “Are you saying you deliberately risked your life to save mine? A man you claim to hate?”

  Reyna glared at him. “Now I wonder why I wasted my time. I should have let you die. And you would have died, you know. The Finn was within seconds of cutting you down while you fought off his comrades.”

  “You have not answered my question.”

  “Very well, if you insist. If your Norsemen were defeated I would have had to accept a new master. I prefer the devil I know to the one I do not. Are you satisfied?”

  Wulf gave a jerky nod.

  “Then let me ask you a question,” Reyna continued. “Why did you rescue me? You could have let the Finn carry me off. You have been looking for a way to get rid of me.”

  Wulf gave her question due consideration. Why, indeed? At length he said, “You are part of my household now. What I own, I keep. You are mine, Reyna the Dane, whether either of us likes it or not. Besides, your healing skills are a valuable asset to the farmstead.”

  Reyna glared up at Wulf. “You may have physical possession of me, but you don’t own my soul. You stole something irreplaceable from me and I will never forgive you. I don’t know why I didn’t let you die.”

  “I told you before, you accuse me unjustly. It was not I who took your innocence.”

  Reyna glared at him. “I know what I saw. Move aside, Wulf the Ruthless, I wish to leave. There are wounded who have need of my skill.”

  Reyna all but leapt from the bed. Wulf blocked her way, feet spread wide apart, hands on hips. “Is that any way to speak to your master?”

  Her chin rose defiantly. “Would you let your wounded die for lack of care? You can punish me later if that is your wish.”

  Pushing Wulf aside, Reyna darted past him and through the curtain. She was relieved when he made no effort to stop her.

  Punishing Reyna was the last thing on Wulf’s mind. He’d rather join her in bed, caress her creamy breasts and push himself inside her.

  If Reyna believed he had ravished her, why had she saved his life while placing her own in danger? He had heard her explanation but didn’t believe it. She had stated clearly and often that she hated him. Any other woman in her position would have stood by and watched him die. Yet Reyna had killed a man who would have dispatched him to Valhalla with a single stroke of his sword.

  Wulf followed Reyna out the door and into the yard, stopping to help an injured warrior into Hagar’s hall, where the wounded had gathered to have their injuries treated. Hagar met Wulf at the door and together they eased the bleeding warrior onto a bench.

  “How many dead and wounded?” Wulf asked.

  “Three dead and seven wounded. All those able to return home have already left. The Finns slain in battle are being buried as we speak. They managed to carry their wounded with them.”

  “According to Olaf, the Finns took captives from the village. Were any of them rescued?”

  Hagar grinned. “There were but six captives and they jumped from the dragonships and ran off when we surprised the Finns at the fjord. Setting up two lines of defense, one at the fjord and another at the farmstead, was a brilliant strategy,” Hagar remarked.

  “Aye,” Wulf agreed. “They weren’t expecting to be met at the fjord by armed warriors hiding in the brush. And those that broke through our first line of defense were handily defeated by the warriors awaiting them at the farmstead.”

  Hagar regarded Wulf keenly. “What do you intend to do about Reyna? She saved your life, you know.”

  Wulf glanced at Reyna, who was across the room. Head bent, she was stitching up a nasty cut on a man’s head. “What are you hinting at?”

  “She deserves some consideration.”

  “Such as?”

  Hagar grinned. “I am sure you will find a suitable reward. Apparently she does not hate you as much as she would have us believe.”

  “I carried Reyna off and sold her, remember? She has every reason to dislike me.”

  Hagar waved Wulf’s words aside. “Apparently she came to no harm at the hands of her foreign master.”

  A shadow turned Wulf’s eyes murky. “Reyna believes I raped her. I do not remember much about that raid, given my rage and frame of mind, but my mind was clear enough to know I did not ravage her. I know who did, however. It was Rannulf, Olga’s brother. Reyna refuses to believe I am not her abuser.”

  Hagar clapped Wulf’s shoulder in commiseration. “Ah, now I understand.” A frown creased his forehead. “But if Reyna hates you, why did she save your life?”

  “I have no idea.”

  �
��Nevertheless, honor demands you reward her. Set her free or…” His words fell off as he beamed a smile at his brother.

  “Or what, Hagar?”

  “You are not dull-witted, brother. Can you not guess what I am thinking?”

  “Oh, I can guess, all right, but you would have to be out of your mind to suggest such a thing. Reyna is a Dane.”

  Turning on his heel, Wulf strode off to join his mother, who was tending the wounded alongside Reyna.

  Thora smiled up at Wulf, her eyes carefully inspecting him for injuries.

  “I am fine, Mother, truly. I’ve suffered but a few scratches this day. What you see on me is the enemies’ blood.”

  Thora gestured toward Reyna and lowered her voice. “I saw what she did. I have yet to thank her for saving my son’s life, but I will. Reyna is a jarl’s daughter, Wulf. She deserves better than what life has dealt her.”

  Wulf groaned. “Not you, too, Mother. Reyna is a Dane; have you forgotten that her people killed my wife and the child she carried?”

  Thora stroked Wulf’s cheek. “Of course I haven’t forgotten. But I seriously doubt either Reyna or her family took part in that particular raid on our farmstead. I urge you to do what is right concerning Reyna’s future, Wulf.”

  Thora walked away, leaving Wulf to his own thoughts. Turning his eyes on Reyna, he gave her a long, slow look. As if sensing his gaze upon her, she glanced up at him. Their eyes met and held. Wulf was the first to break the spellbinding tension that flowed between them. He deliberately turned his head away and left Hagar’s hall to return to his own.

  Wulf spent a long time cleaning up and changing his blood-soaked clothing. He used that time to consider Reyna’s future. What his family expected him to do was absurd, and Reyna would be the first to agree with him. He was the last man in the world Reyna would agree to wed.

  When Wulf’s stomach began to rumble, he walked to his brother’s hall to share the evening meal. He hadn’t eaten since early morning and hoped the thralls had had time to put together a substantial victory feast.

  The family was already gathered at the table when Wulf arrived. The earlier chaos in the hall had been restored to order. The wounded were resting on benches and the thralls were engaged in normal activities. The delicious odors coming from the various cooking pots made Wulf’s mouth water.

  “You are just in time, Wulf,” Hagar greeted. “Sit down and join us.”

  Wulf took his seat, suddenly aware that Reyna was not present in the hall. “Where is Reyna?”

  “She is resting in Helga’s sleeping alcove,” Thora explained. “The girls and Eric will return tomorrow.” She sent Wulf a meaningful look. “I do not know what we would have done without Reyna today. Thanks to her skill, we didn’t lose any of our wounded.”

  “Do not discount your own skill, Mother Thora,” Olga huffed. “I do not know why everyone is making so much over a thrall whose duty is to serve her master in what ever capacity is required of her.”

  Thora sent Olga a quelling look. “What makes you dislike the girl, Olga?”

  “Am I the only one to see through her? Reyna will bring trouble to our farmstead, mark my word.”

  “If that is the way you feel, Olga, then send me home.”

  No one had seen Reyna leave the sleeping alcove. Nor were they aware she had overheard their conversation.

  “I would have Wulf sell you, were it within my power,” Olga snapped. “You are disobedient and far too bold. You should call me mistress like the other thralls. You are no better than the lowest slave in my house-hold.”

  “Enough, Olga,” Hagar commanded. “We owe a debt of gratitude to Reyna.”

  Olga’s humph was loud and heartfelt.

  Wulf paid scant heed to the conversation as his heated gaze raked over Reyna. Apparently his mother had given her a new set of clothing. Instead of harsh, dun-colored wool, Reyna wore a soft linen undertunic and an overtunic of bright green velvet, belted with links of silver. Her shining pale hair had been combed out and fell loose to her waist.

  “Your new clothing suits you, Reyna,” Thora said. “Sit down and join us. You must be starving.”

  Reyna cast an uncertain glance at Wulf before sinking onto the bench. She was starved and wasn’t about to deny herself the pleasure of a meal.

  As the thralls began placing food on the table, Reyna felt a strange undercurrent she did not understand. From the surreptitious glances aimed at her, she assumed it concerned her future.

  Did Wulf intend to sell her to another master?

  Chapter Four

  Wulf pushed his chair away from the table and rose. “It has been an eventful day and I am exhausted. Reyna can remain here to night in case my brother has need of her.”

  “Reyna deserves a good night’s rest,” Thora replied. “Take her with you. I’d like to keep Uma and Lorne, however, to help our thralls tend the wounded. They may need water or assistance during the night. As for Olaf, I will look after him myself. Reyna can check on him on the morrow.”

  Wulf glanced at Reyna and gave a jerky nod. She rose immediately and followed him out the door. The night was dark, moonless, and completely devoid of stars. Wulf thought it was a fitting end to a day of carnage. Three of his friends had died this day and several others were wounded. His own life had been in jeopardy. If not for Reyna’s quick thinking, he would be with his fore-father in Valhalla this very night.

  Wulf entered the hall and turned back to watch Reyna. She had followed him inside but stopped on the threshold.

  “What is it?” His voice held a gruffness he hadn’t intended. Or had he? Being alone with Reyna did things to his body he didn’t understand. His blood pumped at a furious pace and his loins grew painfully tight.

  “Am I allowed to use the steam hut?”

  Her question sent Wulf’s cock into spasms. He imagined Reyna naked, sweat beading her lush body as hot mist swirled around her.

  “I suppose it would be all right. But there’s a volcanic pool a short distance behind the hall that would better serve your purpose. I will accompany you, of course. You will find soap and linen drying cloths in the cupboard. Fetch them.”

  Reyna gave a defiant shake of her head. “I prefer to bathe in private.”

  When Reyna refused to move, Wulf asked, “Are you afraid of me?”

  “Of course I am. I would be a fool not to fear the man who abused me.”

  “I did not do that to you, Reyna. Another warrior hurt you.”

  “Name him,” Reyna demanded.

  Wulf considered her request. Olga was fond of her brother. If Wulf named Rannulf, Reyna might confront Olga, and a confrontation between them could prove harmful to Olga. Wulf wanted no harm to come to Hagar’s heir so he kept the name to himself.

  “Believe me when I say that I was not the man who abused you.”

  “Liar!”

  Wulf winced; her accusation affected him more than he cared to admit. He recalled how pitiful she had looked when he had scooped her from the ground and carried her to his dragonship. Fragile, bruised, defiled, her eyes empty. He no longer hated Reyna for who she was. He was beginning to understand that Norsemen were no different from Dane warriors. All those who fit the description of Vikings plundered, raped and killed, and he had joined in the carnage before he wed Astrid. Wulf had turned to trading after his marriage, save for one or two retaliation raids into Dane territory after his wife’s death.

  Wulf glared at Reyna. Why was she being so difficult? How could she mistake him for Rannulf? True, they were both blond and had worn iron helmets that day, and they had been garbed nearly alike. But the similarities ended there. Wulf was larger and broader than Rannulf, and lacked the scar that marked Rannulf’s left cheek. But he supposed a woman being ravaged wouldn’t notice those differences.

  “Go,” Wulf growled, “I will not join you. If I have need of a woman, Uma will gladly service me.”

  “Uma fancies you, though I do not know why. Perhaps you are kinder to her than
you are to me.”

  “You are treading on dangerous ground, Reyna. If you wish to go to the pool, I suggest you do so while I am of a mind to let you go. You do not wish to see me angry.”

  “I already saw you angry and still bear the scars,” Reyna shot back.

  Wulf took a menacing step in her direction. Reyna gave a startled squeak and fled out the door, taking neither drying cloth nor soap with her. Wulf followed her to the doorway and stopped, watching her disappear into the darkness.

  Hands clenched at his sides, Wulf debated whether to follow her to the pool or seek his bed. His body was sore and stiff from wielding his weapons against the raiders. A hot soaking would ease his aching bones.

  But that wasn’t the only reason Wulf wanted to visit the volcanic pool. He imagined Reyna naked, standing in the water, steam glistening on her fair skin, and his blood ran hot. Though he willed his mind in another direction, it always returned to lusty thoughts of the blonde beauty.

  He wanted Reyna. Why shouldn’t he take her? He owned her. She was his thrall. But she was also afraid of him and he couldn’t bring himself to force himself on her as Rannulf had done.

  Wulf considered his choices. Should he fetch Uma or go to his bed alone, his lust unsatisfied? Did he even desire Uma? The answer was a resounding no. Had he desired Uma, he would have had her long ago. She had hinted often enough that she would be a willing bed slave.

  Wulf had almost convinced himself to ignore his rampant lust when he recalled that Reyna had fled the hall without drying cloth or soap. A grin stretched his lips. He would be doing Reyna a service by bringing those items to her.

  Pleased with his logic, Wulf fetched a drying cloth and some soap from a cupboard and left the hall. His cock twitched with impatience. He felt himself harden with each step closer to the volcanic pool and Reyna.