Wild Viking Princess (11 page)

Kjartan grabbed Margit and pulled her away, kicking and screaming. Reider drew the dagger from Gorm’s body, wiped it on his step-brother’s tunic and examined it carefully. Kjartan gave the screeching Margit over to two comrades and strode to Reider’s side. “Is it Ragna’s?”

Reider shook his head, the cold certainty seeping into his belly that he had left Ragna vulnerable at Husembro. Was she dead? Loss and loneliness swept over him. “Can it be your cousin’s?”

Kjartan examined the hilt carefully. “
Nej
, it’s Ragna’s.”

Reider walked over to Margit, determined to hold on to his temper, despite the dread rising in his throat. What role had this treacherous bitch played in Ragna’s demise? He brandished the dagger under her nose. “Where did you get this?”

She struggled to be free of the grip of his comrades. “Reider, forgive me. I was a fool. It is you I love.”

He tucked Ragna’s precious possession into his belt and fisted his hands, resisting the urge to strike Margit across the face. This creature knew nothing of love. “What have you done with the woman the dagger belongs to?”

~~~

Recognition of the truth dawned. Now Margit understood the new Reider. He loved another—the blonde woman from whom Roar had stolen the dagger. She shoved her hair back out of her eyes and folded her arms across her breasts. Her belly burned. “She is safe.”

Reider took hold of her shoulders and shook her. “Where is she?”

Margit gritted her teeth. “Instruct these fools to release me and I will tell you.”

Reider nodded to the men. Margit rubbed her upper arms and looked coyly at Reider. “The woman you seek will be released, unharmed—on one condition.”

Reider scoffed. “You are in no position to bargain, Margit.”

Margit laughed. The fire had spread to her chest. “Oh, but I am. What is this woman to you, Reider? You seem concerned. Her life is in my hands. One word from me—”

Reider glared at her. “You sicken me, Margit. What is it you want?”

She looked him straight in the eye. “To be your wife.”

Reider’s mouth fell open and he looked at her with such hatred she feared he might kill her on the spot. Would her gamble pay off?

Reider pointed to Gorm’s body. “Any man married to you would never sleep, Margit. You might stab him in the back.”

She sidled up to him, putting her hand on his arm. “I would never dream of killing a man who kept me satisfied. You can be that man.”

He cringed and pulled away. “Take this woman to a cell. Be careful with her. She is dangerous and cunning.”

Margit grasped his arm again. “Surely you will not imprison your betrothed?”

He shrugged her off. “Take her.”

She remained defiant as they dragged her away. “Remember, one word from me—”

Her unease growing, Ragna sat on a flat rock near the docks and watched Captain Ivar’s men prepare the
knarr
for the return journey to Hamburg. Thor’s muzzle rested on her knee. She stroked the loyal dog’s back dispiritedly. The other survivors were in high spirits, looking forward to getting back to their lives before the shipwreck. Dieter was buoyant, obviously relieved to be taking Blythe’s sister to safety.

Why did she feel bereft? She had lost the treasured dagger, for which she would never forgive herself. But something else tugged at her. She looked over to the Danish longboats where Reider’s comrades were loading their own provisions in preparation for the voyage home. They planned to follow Reider to the principality of their ally and hopefully from there to Strand. If Reider’s attack had been unsuccessful, they would do what they could. If it had succeeded, they would be happy to return to the only home they had known.

Had Reider regained his rightful place as ruler of his people? Did he ever think of her?

What ailed her? A boat stood ready to deliver her to her anxious sister. She would be free, safe in the hands of a skilled captain and a worthy brother-by-marriage. Yet she could not be rid of the conviction that she should be going in the other direction—to Strand. Reider needed her.

It was folly. He had uttered no words of love, had asserted there was no room in his heart for love. They had exchanged headbands—what kind of love token was that?

Love
? Did she love this exiled Viking prince? Was she meant to be his princess? She took off the braided headband and inhaled the scent of his maleness and the salty smell of the sea. She caressed the inside with the pad of her thumb.

Dieter strode up from the shore, beaming, holding out his hand. “Are you ready?”

She rubbed Thor’s ears, came to her feet and took a deep breath. “I cannot go with you, Dieter. I’m sorry.”

He stopped abruptly, his grin turning to a frown. “I do not understand. You want to remain here?”

She took hold of his hands, but looked at her feet. “No, Dieter. I must go to Reider’s aid.”

He squeezed her hands and smiled. “Ah! Now I understand! The Viking princess is in love.”

She glared at him, annoyed at his jest, but he was serious. “I cannot explain it, Dieter, and it makes me angry to admit it, but I must go to him.”

Dieter put his arm around her shoulder. “You have always charted a bolder course, Ragna. You do not need to explain it to me. I am the man who kidnapped your sister more or less by mistake, then refused to give her up. I knew she was meant to be mine, and look at us now! Married ten years, with three children, four if you count my son by my first marriage.”

She clasped his hand. “Thank you, Dieter. I will go with the Danes. Tell Blythe I am sorry.”

Dieter put his hands on her shoulders. “Ragna, if you think I will allow you to go to Strand alone, you are mistaken. My men and I will accompany you, and it won’t take much persuasion for Captain Ivar to come with us. He has expressed great anger at what happened to Reider’s father, for whom he had great respect. I will speak with him.”

~~~

The
knarr
and the longboats set sail the next day. Ivar and his men had been eager to go. Ragna’s fellow survivors had balked. They wanted to return home. Strangely enough it was Captain Philion who had changed their minds. “We owe our lives to Reider Torfinnsen and Kjartan Eldarsen. We would be dead men if it were not for them.”

“But they enslaved us,” the young mercenary protested.

“You are free men again, thanks to Ragna FitzRam. Will you turn your back on her now?”

Ivar had suggested the naysayers remain at Husembro and wait to be picked up on the return journey, but in the end they had agreed to sail together.

They followed the Danes to Dagfinn’s territory. As luck would have it, they put into the jetty as Dagfinn was returning home. Ragna caught sight of Kjartan aboard one of the incoming longboats. Where was Reider? Dread pooled in the pit of her belly. She waved and called Kjartan’s name. He jerked up his head and raised his hand to shield his eyes. He seemed surprised to see her, and raised both arms to wave back.

When the boats were moored he ran along the dock and threw his arms around her. “Ragna! You’re safe! We were on our way to Husembro to see how you fared.”

Thor barked his pleasure at Kjartan’s arrival, wagging his tail.

Kjartan squeezed Ragna tightly. She could barely breathe. “It’s good you are pleased to see me, but—”

He released her and laughed, but a frown creased his brow. “Pleased! You have no idea. I’ve much to tell you.”

He knelt to pet Thor who rolled over on his back, tongue lolling, legs in the air. Kjartan rubbed his belly.

Dieter and Dagfinn had both hastened to the jetty where she and Kjartan stood and introductions were made and explanations shared. As the men shook hands and Dagfinn formally welcomed the visitors to his land, Ragna tapped her foot impatiently. “Where is Reider?”

Kjartan put his hands on her shoulders. “He is well. He has regained the principality for us, with Dagfinn’s help. Gorm is dead. Margit killed him”

This did not make sense. “But I thought—”

Kjartan looked away. “She is a devious woman.”

She narrowed her eyes. “
Is
? She still lives?”

Kjartan hesitated, scratching his cheek. “
Ja
! And in one week, she and Reider are supposed to wed.”

Dieter came to Ragna’s aid as her knees buckled. He grasped her elbow and put an arm around her shoulders. “I have you, sister. Don’t assume the worst.”

Anger boiled in her heart, the heart she had been ready to give to Reider. Now he was promised to the treacherous woman who had betrayed him. “Obviously, Dieter, Prince Reider does not need our help. It was a mistake to come here. On the morrow we’ll sail for Hamburg.”

Kjartan held up both hands. “Wait! You do not understand, Ragna. He consented to marry her because he believed she held you captive.”

Ragna frowned. “Me?”

Kjartan took a deep breath and proffered his hand. “Where to begin the tale? Come, sit with me in the Hall and I will tell it to you.”

~~~

That Ragna was a cousin, albeit far removed, elated Kjartan. That she had decided to come to Reider’s aid instead of sailing safely to Hamburg filled him with happiness for his friend. But Margit’s lies held Reider in her web. He had feigned a willingness to wed the treacherous schemer if he thought it would save Ragna’s life. Ragna was a determined young woman, known for her stubbornness. It was important she understand Reider’s decision. Kjartan bade her sit, but she refused.

“Margit killed Gorm with your dagger.”

Ragna gasped. “I don’t understand. How did she get it? It was stolen from me by one of the men who attacked us at Husembro.”

Kjartan looked at Dieter for an explanation. “We repelled them easily. They were probably not expecting a large force. The burly giant who stole Ragna’s dagger swam out to reach the escaping longboat, after Thor bit his leg. We assumed he drowned.”

“Evidently not. It may have been Roar Knutsen. Reider wounded him in the battle, but he looked as though he had been in a recent fight, limping badly. He may not survive. Margit already had the dagger. She killed Gorm and threw herself on Reider’s mercy. Upon seeing his reaction to the dagger, she must have realized how much he cared for you. Roar may have been the one to reveal your existence. Margit used Reider’s concern to her advantage, leading us to believe she had you imprisoned and held sway over your life.”

Ragna chewed her nails, something he had never seen her do before. “Reider was concerned for me?”

Kjartan took her hand. “What Reider feels for you is more than concern.”

Ragna slumped into a chair. “But he is to wed Margit.”

“He will not wed her if he knows you are safe.”

She came to her feet. “Then we have no time to waste.”

Kjartan chuckled. “Ragna, you are the perfect mate for Reider. But there is more I need to tell you. Sit down. You will not believe the next part.”

Ragna pouted, and sat huffily. He beckoned to a young woman seated at a table near them. She came to her feet and approached them, holding a bundle, which she placed in front of Ragna. Ragna frowned and looked inquiringly at Kjartan. “Open it,” he said.

She squared her shoulders and opened the cloth wrapping, gasping at the object she beheld. “My dagger—wait—no, it isn’t mine! But it looks—” She glanced up sharply at Kjartan.

He put his hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Ragna, may I present my cousin, Dagfrid. This dagger is hers.”

Ragna’s frown showed her confusion. “But it is identical to mine. It’s as if the same person carved the hilt.”

He held out his hand. “Exactly, cousin.”

Dieter interrupted. “You mean to say the same person did carve them? That you and Dagfrid and Ragna share an ancestor?”

Kjartan did not expect to be emotional, but as he took hold of Ragna’s hands, he choked on the lump in his throat. “Ragna, I believe, four generations ago, we shared a grandfather.”

Ragna sat open-mouthed, running her fingers over the carving of the Viking. She looked from Dieter, nodding with an amused look on his face, to Dagfrid, beaming a big smile, to Kjartan. Then she too smiled broadly and leapt into Kjartan’s arms. “This is wonderful. We knew our roots on my mother’s side were Danish, but I never expected to meet any of my relatives. When I set sail, I did not intend to visit Denmark.”