By Love Enslaved (31 page)

As her daughter spoke, the tension in Freya’s expression relaxed only slightly. “You simply don’t understand,” she replied sadly.

“I understand the fact we’re all heartbroken over this, but we needn’t stay that way.”

Freya shuddered slightly, then took several deep breaths before she spoke. “Over the years your father and I have had horrible arguments about Erik, but I fear none will compare to his rage when he learns about this. He will undoubtedly say that had I not treated Erik as one of my own sons, he would never have dared hope he might marry Berit. Haakon will swear Erik would have known such a match was impossible, and he would never have created the problem he has. He will insist this is not merely an instance of a young man following his heart, but the natural result of the love I showed him.”

Dana had never heard her parents raise their voices with each other, so she was understandably shocked to learn they had had heated arguments about her half brother. “Erik is as fine a man as Svien and Soren. That Father treats him with less respect than he gives our servants, rather than as a son, upsets all of us as badly as it does you. Counting Thora, there are six of us who think Erik is being abused. If we stand up to Father together, then—”

Freya refused to encourage such a foolhardy action. “No, you mustn’t even suggest that to the others. You dare not risk increasing your father’s anger when surely it will already be terrible. That will only make the situation all the more difficult for Erik, and none of us wants that.”

Dana had never imagined their current dilemma would require her to choose between two men she loved dearly. It had all begun with Brendan, she mused silently. They had taken in a slave in defiance of her father’s wishes, and their lives had failed to run smoothly ever since. Because thoughts of the Celt caused an entirely different type of pain, she struggled to push his handsome image to the back of her mind.

Thinking she had only one possible choice, Dana made her decision quickly. “Father is wrong. It’s as simple as that. I’ll do whatever I can to help Erik, and if Father becomes angry with me for my loyalty to my brother, then so be it. Things could not possibly get any worse here than they already are.”

“Dana!”

The vibrant redhead shook her head. “Nothing you can say will change my mind. If you and Father were to plead Erik’s cause, I think Grena could be persuaded to allow him to marry Berit. If you’ll not speak out in his behalf, then he’ll have to fight Jørn for that privilege. I think he’ll win too.”

Freya was astonished by the sudden change in her elder daughter, for while she had always spoken her mind, she had not once been openly defiant of her parents’ wishes. “And if Erik is killed? Could you live with the thought he died for love?”

“Yes,” Dana answered easily, thinking she saw the question far more clearly than her mother. “It’s the only thing worth dying for, isn’t it?”

Moira rapped softly, then peered in the door, interrupting them before Freya could respond. “Mistress, there’s an old woman from Grena’s here. She’s begging to speak with you.”

Freya welcomed the news with a delighted smile. “She must have brought a message from my sister, and I hope that it’s a good one. Send her to me at once.”

Dana recognized the woman immediately as the one who had taken care of her cousins in infancy. Quite old and frail now, she appeared exhausted from her journey. Rising to her feet, Dana helped the woman to a place at the foot of the bed. “Your name is Ulla, isn’t it? Please, make yourself comfortable. Were you given something to eat and drink?”

“Yes, mistress, thank you. I did not think you would remember me,” Ulla replied shyly, obviously pleased to learn her long service to Grena’s family had not gone unnoticed. After taking a deep breath, she hurriedly explained her mission. “In the four days since visiting here, my mistress has given her daughter nothing to eat, and only a few sips of water to drink. They are in the midst of some terrible argument, and each is so stubborn I fear Berit will die before their dispute is resolved. That is why I came here. I trust you will be able to help Berit in a way I cannot.”

When her mother appeared too stunned to comment on her sister’s cruelty, Dana questioned their caller herself and soon came to the conclusion that her cousin’s plight was genuinely as desperate as her former nurse claimed. Not wanting to discuss their personal business in front of Ulla, she thanked her for coming to them, then ushered her from the room before she spoke to her mother.

“You had suggested that we all meet again in a few days. Clearly Grena isn’t going to be able to discuss Berit’s future calmly anytime soon, but it’s imperative that we help Berit now. What do you want to do?”

“There’s only one thing we can do,” Freya announced with the same determination that had always allowed her to stand up to Haakon where Erik’s welfare was concerned. “We’ll have to stop Grena from tormenting Berit in the only way we can. Tell Erik to take some of the men and go and get her before she has to suffer through another day of her mother’s spiteful treatment. Grena has never had a bit of sense, not since she was a child, but I won’t allow her to get away with this.”

Before she had fallen ill, Freya had been the most self-reliant of women, and Dana was thrilled to find she had lost none of her former spirit during the long months of her recovery. “Try and rest a while longer. I’ll take care of everything.”

Dana hurried away without explaining the details of a plan she had just begun to devise. First she asked Ulla to remain a little longer, for if they succeeded in bringing Berit home, she would need a maid. She then hurried to the stable, had one of the boys saddle her mare, and left immediately to tell Erik what she had learned. With any luck, they would rescue Berit and have the entire matter resolved before her father returned home. Then, if Haakon wanted to fume and spit over the fact Erik had taken Berit as his wife, they would all have the courage to survive it.

Urging her mare to a gallop, Dana followed what was becoming a well-worn trail through the woods, but as she neared the site of Erik’s new home, she heard the unmistakable clang of steel clashing against steel. Fearing Grena had somehow gathered an armed force to attack her half brother, she dismounted and led Dawn’s Kiss to the spot where she and Berit had observed the men working. When she finally had a clear view, she was relieved to find only a mock battle where the men watching the two participants were laughing and calling out good-natured jests.

Both Erik and Brendan were stripped to the waist, displaying muscular arms and torsos that were deeply tanned and glowing with a light sheen of sweat. Circling each other warily, first one and then the other would explode into action, swinging his long, broad blade with a force that would have done terrible damage had it found its mark. Because this was not her idea of lighthearted sport, Dana’s heart was soon firmly lodged in her throat. Breathless with excitement, she watched each of the men successfully block the other’s blows with a fierce masculine grace that made their deadly sport fascinating as well as frightening to observe.

It soon became apparent that despite Erik’s vigor, Brendan was the far more skilled of the two, but rather than push that advantage, he was cleverly leading Erik through a series of maneuvers that allowed him to practice what prowess he had. For a thrall to give a lesson in the use of a sword to his master was a most unusual sight, but then Dana had always known Brendan was no ordinary slave. That he had a fine appearance and a warrior’s skill was obvious, but she longed to know so much more about him. Thoroughly enjoying the swordplay, despite the anxiety it caused her, she was sorry when by mutual agreement the young men brought it to an end.

As Brendan slapped Erik on the back and offered a few tips for their next encounter, his back was turned toward the woods and he did not know Dana had joined them until she spoke. He wheeled around then, his expression changing from one of relaxed camaraderie to his old mask of aloof disdain.

Dana watched Brendan’s smile vanish, not understanding what she had done to deserve such a hate-filled stare. Was it because they had not discussed his freedom at their last meeting? she wondered. She blushed as she remembered each nuance of his loving and her shameless response to it, but she could recall little of his conversation. There had been no time to plan how to set him free, but that had been his fault, not hers! While she was sorry he was upset with her, she couldn’t spare the time now to worry about his feelings when she feared Berit’s life might be at stake.

Not noticing the silent exchange passing between Brendan and Dana, Erik smiled widely, then grinned sheepishly as he saw his sister’s glance sweep over his gleaming weapon. “Soren left home with two of Haakon’s swords so I could learn how to use them. I hope they’ve not been missed.”

Soren walked up to join them, and Dana assured him they had all been far too upset to take an inventory of the weapons their father had not taken on his voyage. She waited for Erik to tell his workers to return to their tasks before she explained why she had come. When Brendan remained by Erik’s side, as though he had every right to be there, she thought he might prove useful and refrained from telling him to join the others. She reported the dreadful news about Berit, then waited for Erik to respond.

Instantly Erik’s face took on the same look of fierce determination that Brendan’s wore. Turning to the slave, he immediately began to make his plans. “You advised me to go and get her, and clearly that’s what I should have done. I don’t want to make things awkward for you, though. Grena doesn’t have enough men to keep me out of her house if I want to walk in with this sword in my hand, so if you’d rather not come along I’ll understand.”

With his glance still firmly fixed on Dana’s face, Brendan sounded eager for the chance to join in another rescue. “No, I want to go. You don’t need to pay me either. I’ll do this just for the sport of it.”

Erik clapped the Celt on the back, “Did you get a chance to see how brutal Brendan can be, Dana? He told me he was traveling about Erin, gathering support to drive out the Norsemen, when the monastery where he had stopped for the night came under siege. The attackers admired his skill with a sword so greatly they took him prisoner rather than putting him to death, which was lucky for us both. I can certainly use his help.”

Dana found the tale every bit as intriguing as Erik obviously had, but her reaction was not the one he had predicted when she spoke to Brendan rather than him. “Why couldn’t you have told me that story when I asked about your past? Would it have cost you so much in pride?”

“I had a good reason for telling Erik what happened,” Brendan protested scornfully.

“While I am merely a curious female with no right to know anything about you other than what is obvious to the eye?” To pay him back for his contemptuous gaze, Dana allowed her glance to travel slowly down the muscular planes of his partially clothed body until it came to rest on the inviting swell below his belt.

Soren stared first at his sister and then at the Celt. He could have sworn there was something between them, but obviously it was nothing more than hearty dislike, for clearly they despised each other now. “I’ll saddle the horses. If we’re going to get Berit, we ought to be on our way.”

“You’re right.” Erik turned to wink at Soren as he walked by. Then he turned back to Dana. “You go on back home. I’ll try and have Berit there before sunset.”

“No, I’m going with you.”

“Are you good with a sword too?” Brendan asked sarcastically.

“No, I have other weapons,” Dana responded instantly, silently daring him to ask what they were, but wisely he kept still.

“I don’t want you involved in this, Dana,” Erik insisted.

“I am already involved. Find a kirtle and let’s go.” Returning to the spot where she had tethered her mare, Dana quickly climbed into the saddle, and riding out into the clearing, she waited impatiently for the men to get ready so they could be on their way.

Believing that hunger was her most powerful weapon, Grena had expected to win the battle of wills with her daughter in a day or two. When by the third day Berit continued to stubbornly refuse to drink the pale green potion, Grena was thoroughly incensed. By the end of that day the pallor of the girl’s skin gave her hope she would soon triumph, but while Berit was too weak to leave her bed on the fourth day, she still refused to do her mother’s bidding.

Even as she continued to defy her mother, Berit was terrified that she now lacked the strength to fight should her mother summon several servants to hold her down while she forced the vile brew between her lips. With that fear foremost in her mind, the day seemed endless, but strangely, after the hunger pangs of the first day had subsided, she didn’t feel hungry at all.

She felt very alone, however. She hoped Erik was thinking of her and working out a way for them to marry, for she would never accept that desire as hopeless. She felt her beloved nanny Ulla’s hand on her forehead, a fond and familiar touch, but she didn’t understand the dear woman’s whispered words of encouragement, or why she soon left her all alone.

When Erik and Dana took up the lead, Brendan reined in his mount and rode along beside Soren. That the boy had dared to steal two of his father’s swords had impressed the Celt, for it showed a strong loyalty to his half brother. More importantly, the lad’s considerable skill with the weapons demonstrated Haakon’s ability as a teacher, and Brendan hoped he would never have to cross swords with the man.