The Viking's Witch (17 page)

She felt a slight chill as Rothgar tugged the wool blanket away from her lower half, exposing her. A tremor of fear rippled through her. “What happens now? I dunno how to do this,” she whispered.

“Fret not, my little witch. We will not make love now. I wish to save that pleasure for tonight.” He chuckled. “But I know how to give you the same pleasures of lovemaking while leaving you intact.”

“How could—?”

She gasped as Rothgar leaned over her and suckled her breast again. The feel of his wet mouth moving against her sensitive skin made her feel dizzy. What could be better than this? Her skin quivered as Rothgar trailed kisses down her ribs and stomach, inching lower with each kiss. What was he doing?

His strong hands massaged her calves, sliding upward until he rubbed her knees, then her thighs. His kisses went lower, tickling her until he reached her lower belly. She moaned and squirmed on the bed. This delightful teasing and touching was something she’d never expected. How did Rothgar know how to make her feel so weak and vulnerable?

Her head swam with passion as Rothgar gently parted her thighs. Her belly tingled, and a warm heat spread between her legs as Rothgar stroked her there. What was he … ?

A pounding on the door shattered their intimate mood. “Rothgar?”

He groaned and shouted something at the man on the other side of the door.

“Who is it? What does he want?”

“Sig. I’m needed downstairs right now,” he grumbled and rose to his feet. “I’m sorry. I know how much you were enjoying it.”

She felt her face flush as she sat up and covered her breasts with her hands. Rothgar was right. She had enjoyed his gentle kisses and the feel of his hands all over her body. Would he continue his affections tonight?

Rothgar pointed to her dress that lay crumpled in the corner. “Put that on and come downstairs. I may need your help. Sig says they have news about Orvind.”

Rothgar followed Sig downstairs. He hated to leave Odaria when they were both so aroused, but it could not be helped. His duty came first. “What is it?”

Sig entered the main room. “See for yourself.”

A leather belt and a gold earring lay on the table. Rothgar picked up the belt and examined it. The circular spirals tooled into the leather told him that it belonged to a Nordmann, but was it Orvind’s? He turned to Sig. “Where did you find it?”

“In a field of grass on the far side of the isle.”

He frowned and glanced at the three other men with Sig. Nils, Erik, and Leif were young and devoutly loyal to Karnik. He wasn’t very fond of them.

Sig cleared his throat, then continued. “There was something else. There’s a—”

Sig’s words froze on his lips, and he took a step back. The men with him moved to the fireplace, their eyes open wide.

“What in the name of Thor is wrong with you?” He looked where they were staring. Odaria stood on the staircase, watching them.

“You’d be wise to rid yourself of the witch, Rothgar. She’s put a hex on the village,” Erik muttered.

He glared at Erik. “Is that what you were told? Who is spreading these lies?”

“It’s not a lie,” Nils said. “Haraldur told me what happened in the village while we were searching for Orvind. There was a powerful storm here, but not a drop of rain fell where we were. That girl is dangerous. She’ll get us all killed.”

Odaria came down the stairs and stood at his side. “What’s happening? What are they saying? ’Tis about me, isn’t it?”

The men backed away, casting her wary glances.

“Who do you think raised the storm that wrecked Orvind’s ship?” Leif asked. “It was that one.” He pointed at Odaria. “And she’s conjured us here to—”

“Shut your mouth. That’s enough.” He looked at Odaria. “These grown men are afraid of you because of what you did at the church.” He gestured at the table. “Sig brought these objects back from the other side of the isle. Touch them, and tell me what you see.”

Odaria shook her head. “I’m not certain that I can. I’m drained from before.”

He looked at Sig and the other men. He was losing what little control he had over them. Karnik’s men were afraid of Odaria and didn’t like her hovering around him. Their relationship was going to cause problems for everyone. But was Leif right? Had one of Odaria’s storms capsized Orvind’s ship? It seemed possible.

“I have done favors for you today. Now try and do as I ask, little witch.”

She nodded. “Aye.”

He watched as Odaria closed her eyes and shook her left hand a few times. A moment later, she trailed her fingers across the belt, then flinched and pulled back.

“You saw something …”

“Nay.” She shook her head. “I told you, I’m tired and—”

“What have you seen? Tell me.”

“Nothing. It was dark. Cold.” She shivered. “It looked like a gra—” She stopped and bit her bottom lip.

A grave? A chill settled over him. Was Orvind buried alive? Or was he long dead?

“This is foolishness, Rothgar,” Erik said, stepping in front of him. “Having the witch touch objects accomplishes nothing. She does not divine from them. She is tricking us.”

“Quiet.” He wouldn’t listen to such nonsense from Erik. He was one of Karnik’s men, and his motives couldn’t be trusted. Karnik was eager to leave the isle and didn’t care about finding Orvind. All Karnik wanted was to sail off and raid so he could bring home more treasures.

He looked at Sig. “What else did you have to tell me? You started to say there was something more.”

“We spotted ruins near where we found the belt. There may have once been dwellings on the far side of the isle. We didn’t explore. We thought you’d want to see them for yourself.”

Ruins? Could Orvind be held prisoner in an abandoned village?

“You will take me there now.” He gave Odaria a quick kiss on the forehead. “I must go with Sig and search where they found the belt. Go upstairs, lock yourself in, and rest until I return.”

To his surprise, she didn’t protest.

“Aye, I need to sleep. I’ve had a long day,” she replied as she headed for the staircase.

He followed Sig and the other men out of the gathering hall.

A feeling of unease plagued him as he walked through the village. Right now, he thought it wise to keep Odaria away from Karnik’s men. Today’s frightening events had not warmed them to her. Not only were they tired of unending searches for Orvind, but they were becoming increasingly bitter toward her. He didn’t like it.

But was he doing the right thing by leaving Odaria behind? Although she had proven that she could take care of herself, she was weak now. If there was any sort of trouble while he was gone …

He looked over and caught Erik and Leif exchanging glances. Were the men plotting something against him? Even though he was a powerful
jarl
, his status didn’t automatically earn him the respect or obedience of Karnik’s men. Little by little, he was falling out of favor with everyone.

He cast a wary glance at Erik. Perhaps he
should
have brought Odaria along. At least she could have sensed if he was being led into a trap.

“Blessed gods, show mercy on me and let me find Orvind here.” Rothgar followed Sig over a rise and through a grassy field. The discovery of the Norseman’s belt in the abandoned Pict village had raised his hopes. Certainly Orvind would be found here, bound and gagged, hidden away in some forgotten cottage that hadn’t been explored.

He sighed. Orvind
had
to be here; he just had to be. Why else would the Fates have delivered this information to him? Perhaps the gods had finally decided to stop toying with him and grant him this one favor. Odaria said that Orvind had reached the isle. The forgotten village was close to the shore, and it would make a good hiding place.

His hopes faded as he came up over another small hill and spotted the abandoned village. He let out a deep sigh. It was in ruins. A light fog cloaked everything in murky grayness. A low stone wall surrounded what once appeared to be a large village. Rotted thatched cottages lay collapsed on the ground, swallowed by the knee-high grass and weeds.

He tried to shake off the damp heaviness in the air. Nothing moved here. There was no sound from anything alive, just the wind whistling through the deserted skeletons of buildings. The village had a thick, ominous feel to it. It felt like he was standing in a nightmare—only he was awake, and this was real.

His attention was drawn to a tall wooden beam that stood in the center of the old village. Its base had been scorched. The grass around it was black and charred. His mind flashed back to the bonfire on the beach and Odaria’s plight. Had Brennan tried to burn someone else?

The wind blew across the field, carrying the sweet, sickly stench of rotted flesh to his nostrils. He gagged and tried not to breathe.

He stepped over the crumbling stone wall and stood in the grass. Gray clouds blocked out the sun, and a chill washed over him. Restless spirits roamed here. For a moment, he imagined he knew what Odaria felt when she’d seen the drowning man in her vision. If she was with him now, what would she feel? What horrors could she tell him of this place?

“Do you smell it?” Nils asked. “It’s death.”

“
Ja
. Let’s split up and search. Look for any sign of Orvind. He may be tied up and unable to answer our calls.” He looked at Sig. “The man who finds him will be rich upon his return home. The reward offered is great.”

“But Rothgar, there’s no one here,” Erik said. “It’s abandoned. It’s a graveyard.”

“That may be.” He looked at Erik. “Are you such a coward that you fear a few ghosts?”

“
Neinn
, but—”

“Then get to work.”

Erik and Leif looked at each other, then headed for a cluster of thatched cottages.

He watched as Nils and Sig wandered off toward a large building. The cool wind blew around him, sending another blast of stench to his nostrils. Erik was right. This place was a graveyard. He didn’t need a witch’s powers to tell him that it was haunted.

“Rothgar, come here,” Nils shouted.

He followed the sound of his voice and raced over the small hills dotting the village. After a moment, he found Nils standing behind what once had been a building. He was gazing at the ground, his eyes wide.

“What is it?”

“A body,” Nils croaked out, then spun away, coughing.

“Who is it?” Sig said, rushing to his side.

Rothgar frowned and scratched his beard. “Not sure. There’s no head. But it was one of us.” He stared down at the body in disbelief. Someone had cleaved off the man’s head. Who would do such a vile thing?

As Leif and Erik arrived, he bent down to get a better look at the body. The corpse wore a dark red tunic. Only after studying it closely did he realize that the sleeves of the tunic were yellow. The top and back were stained red with blood. The man’s hands were tied behind his back, and someone had hacked off all his fingers.

“I don’t like this place. It’s cursed. We should go back,” Leif said, his voice trembling.

He straightened up and took a minute to gather his thoughts. Men from the Norse ship were brought here and killed, even tortured. But for what purpose? Revenge? Pleasure? Was this more of Brennan’s work?

He looked at Sig. “Keep searching. I want every bit of this village explored.” Each moment he remained in the village, his hope of finding Orvind alive faded. Yet he couldn’t ignore the feeling that Orvind was nearby—though perhaps only in spirit.