The Viking's Witch (5 page)

She studied Rothgar in the flickering candlelight. He was frowning. His voice had lost its rough edge. Instead of sounding angry, he sounded tired.

“To hell with it. Leave. Stay. Do as you wish. I care not.” He blew out the candles and climbed into bed.

She huddled next to the door, expecting Rothgar to say something else. He didn’t. Was he waiting for her to leave, or speak? She glanced down and saw a moonbeam reflecting off her brooch. The silver glimmered in the moonlight. Rothgar had been kind enough to give her the brooch, and he
had
protected her. After all he’d done for her, he deserved to be treated better.

“Rothgar?”

“
Hvat
?”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I …” She bit her bottom lip, unsure how to express what she felt inside. “I don’t wanna be had that way.”

“Had in what way? I was not going to force you. I was trying to make you like it. I would not be violent. I have never harmed a woman in my life. I am not Ivor.”

She shuddered as she recalled the feel of Ivor’s rough hands grabbing her breasts. “How am I to know? ’Tis late, I’m tired, and I was sleeping fine until you brought me up here, tossed me on the bed, and tried to smother me.”

“If I bother you so much, leave.” Rothgar folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “I’ll not smother you again. You can fend for yourself come morn.”

She stood and walked to the bed. What would happen to her if Rothgar didn’t protect her from the other Norsemen? Could she sneak away to the
cairn
and hide until they left? What if they never left?

“Nay. I’ll not leave you. I didna mean to make you angry with me. Pray don’t set the other men on me. I’d die if they …” She was unwilling to say more, lest her words invoke trouble. “You have been good to me, Rothgar. I wish to make up for hurtin’ you as I did.”

“
Gut
. Come to bed and do two things for me.”

“Nay. You said you would not touch me.”

“I will not touch you … unless you ask for it.” He chuckled. “Fear not, sweet maiden. My lust has faded. I drank too much
bjor
and lost control of my desires while
drukkinn
. I wish to sleep now. Today was a long day.”

“Aye, ’twas very long and quite troublesome, indeed. What do you wish of me?”

Rothgar cleared his throat. “First, come to bed and lie next to me.”

“You won’t kiss or touch me?”

“Only if you kiss or touch me first.”

She folded her arms across her chest and eyed him suspiciously. “And what other thing must I do?”

Rothgar smirked and wriggled his eyebrows. “Come to bed and find out.”

Rothgar lay still, waiting to see if Odaria would get into bed next to him. If she refused, he would not force her. For all he cared, she could sleep on the floor or leave. If she insisted on acting so stubborn, then she could take her chances with the others and see how she fared. No other Nordmann would show her such kindness.

He pulled the bedcoverings across his stinging chest and closed his eyes. Odaria was right. In a way, he was no better than Ivor. Granted, he never would have forced himself on her, but he had ignored her when she’d begged him to leave her alone. He frowned. It was the
bjorr
. He’d drunk too much tonight and gotten carried away. Up until the moment he’d scooped Odaria into his arms and carried her upstairs. Being intimate with her was a mere hope.

Over the last three years, he had learned not to expect any reaction from his lower half, whether he was drunk or sober. His manhood was nothing but a useless lump of meat between his legs. But being close to Odaria had caused it to blaze back to life tonight.

“You swear you will do me no harm?” Odaria asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He sighed. After she had ripped out all of his chest hair, his burning hardness had shriveled down to nothing. His mighty sword now lay as limp as a blade of grass. He couldn’t enter her even if he wanted to. “I swear it.”

Odaria climbed into bed next to him and lay on her right side. The bed wasn’t large enough for a man a third his size, and she was forced to lie close to him. The bed frame creaked as he readjusted his weight.

“What are you doin’?”

“Trying to get comfortable. Fret not. I will not touch you.”

“Why should I trust you? Norsemen are raiders and murderers, you—”

“Hush. You are angered still over the raid at Lindesfarne. Blame me not. I did not destroy your precious monastery.”

“Mine? How dare you call that lump of stone mine? That belonged to them, not me. You can tear down every monastery and abbey stone by stone and hurl them into the sea for all I care.”

Her violent words shocked him. One moment, Odaria acted tender and sweet, and a second later, she sounded cold and uncaring. She reminded him of some of the women back home. He laughed. “Does Norse blood run through your body?”

“What? Nay.” He heard her sigh. “I’m lyin’ here. Now pray tell me the other thing you wish me to do. I would hope to sleep a bit tonight. The sun shall rise in a few hours.”

He looked at Odaria. His silver and jade brooch gleamed in the moonlight. It pleased him that she liked his gift. “Answer my questions. And I want to hear the truth. No lies,
ja
?”

“Aye. Ask what you will.”

“Did another ship of Nordmenn land here a fortnight ago?”

“Nay. I know nothing of a ship.”

“Are you certain?”

“Aye. I’ve not seen others like you before tonight.”

He frowned.
Hel.
He’d been hoping that Odaria had seen the ship or at least heard a rumor about it. For a woman, she seemed to know many things. “Have you heard anyone speak of a man called Orvind?”

“Nay.” She yawned. “Must you keep me awake with questions I canna answer?”

“Speak the truth. I need to find Orvind.”

“And I need to sleep. I told you, I know not of this person. Would you rather I lie?”

He closed his eyes. By Thor, now what? He had to find Orvind and bring him home, dead or alive. It was not his wish to leave the comfort of his farm and set sail on this reckless mission, but he had no choice in the matter. His uncle had ordered him to find Orvind, even though he was a damned fool for taking a
knarr
and sailing away without permission.

“Why are you searching for him here? Who is he?”

“My cousin. Orvind set sail for this isle weeks ago and vanished. I’m here to find him and bring him home.”

“Perhaps he sailed to another isle. There are many nearby.”

“He was going to
Strjonsey
.” He saw Odaria scowl, then explained. “That is our name for this place.”

“Aye.” Odaria tugged the sheepskin covering up to her chin and yawned. “If I knew of a ship, I would tell you.”

From the tender tone in her voice, he knew Odaria was being honest with him. “
Ja
.” He pressed his fingertips to his eyes and sighed. His head ached from too much beer and not enough sleep. Today was one of the longest days of his life. Sailing here and taking charge of the capture of these villagers had—

Suddenly, an idea came to him. “Are there more Picts living on this isle? Is there another village? Perhaps on the far side of this rock?”

“Nay, no longer. Once there was a tiny village not far from here. But it was combined with this one. The isle is not big. I kin walk all the way round it in a day if I wish.”

Damn.
Looking for Orvind in another village had been a good idea. In the morning, he would send Karnik’s men to explore the nearest isles, just in case Orvind’s ship had been blown off course.

“And tell me, who is in charge of this village? What is his name?”

“A loathsome beast named Brennan. Should you see him, run him through with your broadsword.”

He turned to Odaria, surprised at her vicious tone. Why did she hate Brennan so? He thought of asking her, then changed his mind. What did he care of their quarrel? He was here to find Orvind. The leader of the village would certainly have heard of a longship coming ashore, or being dashed against the rocks. Tomorrow, he would force Brennan to tell him what he knew.

“Is there anythin’ else, Rothgar? I’d rather not be awake to greet the dawn.”

He smiled. Odaria was right. It was late. “One more question.” The quick capture of the villagers still nagged at him, and he needed to satisfy his curiosity. “Why was everyone in the village on the hill near the fire tonight? Were they holding a celebration?”

Odaria didn’t answer him right away. He looked over and saw that she was biting her lower lip. “Well? You were there,
ja
?”

“Aye. I was there. Those fine, God-fearing Christians had gathered to cleanse the village.”

“What does that mean? I’m unfamiliar with their Christian rituals. We still worship the old gods, Odin and Thor.”

“And rightfully so. You would not want the gods ta turn against you.”

After a second, he realized that she had avoided answering his question. “Tell me, what were they doing on the hill?”

“They were readying for a sacrifice.”

“A sacrifice? But I heard Christians had banned them. Do they not consider such things barbaric and pagan?”

Odaria let out a little laugh. “Aye. But when it suits their purpose, they do not seem to mind it. Brennan has taken over the minds of the villagers. He claims to speak to their God directly, and they obey his commands. They were making ready to—” A sob escaped her throat, choking off her words.

A sick feeling of dread washed over him. Odaria was a virgin. When he’d found her, her hands were bound and she smelled smoky. “You?”

“Aye. I was about to be hurled into the fire,” she answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“By Thor! Why in the name of Valhalla would they burn you? You are merely a girl.”

She glanced into his eyes. “Because I’m a witch.”

He held his breath, letting her words sink in. A
volva
? Her? He almost laughed. That was absurd. Everyone knew that witches were dried-up old crones who lived in secluded huts and brewed terrible-tasting potions.

Odaria was no witch. But if she wished to play games with him, he’d follow along and pretend to believe her. Over the last few years, he had visited several of these healers in an attempt to regain use of his manhood, and he knew a bit about their methods.

“But witchery goes against the Christian—”

“I never said I was a Christian. I havena abandoned the gods and goddesses. I’m loyal. But Brennan is a raving madman. He’s got it in his rotted head to kill anyone who still follows the Old Ways … or questions his rules.”
He nodded. Back home, some villages had moved away from worshipping Thor and Odin. He remained true and still believed in the power of the Ancient Ones.

“You could have denied the charge—”

“Why? ’Tis true.” Odaria sat up and looked at him. “It was no question of
if
I’m a witch. Everyone in the village knows what I am—the same as me mother before me. When they needed healing for their ailments and wounds or their animals took sick, they came ta me for help. But when Brennan put it in their sotted heads that they needed to cleanse the village, they were ready to set me ablaze.”

Rothgar gazed into Odaria’s eyes and felt a chill settle over him. From where she sat, a beam of moonlight struck her eyes, giving them an eerie glow. They sparkled as brightly as the brooch he’d given her.

“They thought they would be rid of me, but they were wrong. Look at them now. Your men have—”

“They are not my men. They are Karnik’s men.”

Odaria waved him off. “It matters not who they take orders from. I called down a curse upon everyone in this filthy village, and no sooner had the wind carried me words into the black night than your Norsemen rose out of the shadows and fell upon them.”

He smirked. Odaria was not serious, was she? Did she honestly believe she had conjured them up? Part of him was tempted to tell her that he had learned of his journey several days ago, but he thought better of it. He’d let her think she had magical powers. Perhaps she was trying to frighten him with her tale.

“I see. Then you do not deny being a witch?”

“Nay. ’Tis what I am. Do you deny being a Norseman?” She glanced into his eyes. “I was raised one and I shall die one, as me murdered mother before me, when the gods see fit. They heard my prayers and spared me tonight. I …” She pursed her lips. “You do not believe me.”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen no proof of magic.”

“Think of this. The villagers prepared a celebration feast, and Brennan uses this gathering hall to conduct his business.” Odaria flopped back onto the bed. “And now the witch he tried to roast alive has escaped the pyre, eaten up his dinner, and is safely lying in a soft bed next to the Norseman who raided the village and captured everyone. Is that not proof enough of my powers?”

He mulled over her words. In an odd way, everything she said was true. The situation
had
worked to her advantage. But was that because she possessed magic powers or because she was good at playing games to get what she wanted?