By Love Enslaved (40 page)

“You have no one here with the same skill?” Jarald inquired, disappointed that his plans to keep Grena away were being threatened.

“No, unfortunately none of our servants have such a talent,” Dana hurriedly explained. Seeing Brendan at the door, she went to him. “See what you can learn from Jørn’s crew, then go and get Erik. I know he must have been dreading Jørn’s return, but there’s no need for him to worry he’ll have to fight him now, and I want him here when we tell my mother what’s happened.”

Brendan stared at the young man on the bed. If Jørn died, Grena would claim him as part of her son’s property. Being a slave was a ghastly enough fate without having to belong to a vindictive bitch like Grena. That was a small problem at present, however. He knew Trom, and well, but he held back that valuable piece of information to bargain with later. “Whoever is being held for ransom is in grave danger,” he warned instead.

Dana swallowed quickly to force away the fear that filled her throat. “Please don’t say anything to anyone until we’ve had the opportunity to question the crew. No matter whose life is at risk, we’ll pay the ransom, but I don’t want my mother frightened unnecessarily.”

Brendan straightened his shoulders, thinking it had to be obvious to all that Haakon and Svien must be the ones taken prisoner, for Jørn would scarcely be in such an agitated state had he only lost a few members of his crew. “I understand. Your mother’s feelings are to be protected at all costs.” He longed to pull the distraught redhead into his arms for a comforting hug, but knew such a display would only worsen her problems. With no more than a brief nod, he turned and left, but he couldn’t imagine Jørn’s crew having any news that would be good.

Jarald had observed the hurried exchange, and when Dana turned back toward the bed he scanned her expression for some clue as to what she and the thrall had been discussing, but she seemed interested only in Jørn’s welfare. Still, he did not like the fact Brendan had stopped to talk with Dana before running Freya’s errand. Perhaps the striking redhead unknowingly encouraged the slave’s attentions, but he had no intention of allowing that to continue. He might have failed once to get rid of the Celt, but he would make certain his second attempt succeeded.

In his haste to leave his bedchamber, Jarald had paused only long enough to yank on his breeches. As Dana returned to Jørn’s side, her gaze swept over Jarald’s powerfully muscled arms and chest, but she found his impressive physique not nearly as handsome as Brendan’s, for the Dane’s body was as hairy as a bear’s. When she realized he had noted the direction of her glance, she tried her best to smile.

What difference did it make that Jarald’s body did not delight her eyes and invite her touch as Brendan’s always had? Brendan didn’t want her affection anymore, and although she still did not understand why, she would not ask him to explain the reasons for his rejection when that would surely cause her further pain.

As Jarald broke into a wide grin, it was clear his interest in her had not wavered. While that thought brought absolutely no comfort, it forced Dana to take a realistic look at the future. She had not cared for any of the men who had courted her before Jarald, and she had to admire his persistence. Unfortunately, that was the only thing she admired about the man, but she had given him so little of herself she knew she had treated him unfairly.

“You are always so quick to help us, Jarald,” she complimented him sincerely. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you more often how much that is appreciated.”

“It pleases me to be of service,” Jarald was delighted to respond. Dana had always been polite, but this was the first bit of true warmth he had ever received from her. Maybe Brendan meant nothing to her after all. Thinking perhaps it was jealousy that caused him to see rivals everywhere, he decided to keep his eyes open to gather more evidence before doing away with the slave.

Brendan recognized several of Jørn’s crew as men he had seen at Grena’s farm before they had left on their voyage. Those who weren’t racked with fevers as high as Jørn’s were so exhausted he didn’t see how they had managed to bring the others home. Sprawled about the dock where they had fallen, they begged for ale to quench their thirst.

He ran back to the house to seek more help, then returned to the dock and encouraged the healthy men to relate their story. After listening to several rambling narratives, he was forced to extract bits and pieces from each, but he finally had enough of the tale to be reasonably certain of what had happened. It wasn’t until then that he saddled a horse and went for Erik.

Having spent an extremely pleasant night in the arms of his beloved, Erik was in high spirits as he greeted Brendan. When the Celt leapt down from his mount and pulled him toward the privacy of the woods, he realized the situation was an urgent one. “What’s wrong?” he asked instantly.

“You just missed seeing Jørn this morning,” Brendan began, but he continued before Erik could reply. “He and most of his men are too sick to stand, but from what I can learn from the others, Haakon, Svien, and their crews were captured by one of the Norse pirates who control all the ports of Erin. Jørn was sent back to raise the ransom for the others, but he and the majority of his crew are all too ill to stand, let alone sail.”

Erik turned to look at the men working on his house. They were an industrious lot, but rescuing the twins and Thora had been a challenge to their seamanship, and Erin was a long way off. “Was Jørn’s ship damaged?”

“No,” Brendan assured him.

“Good, then we can leave as soon as we have a fresh crew.”

“You can’t swim a stroke, and you’ll probably be seasick the whole way. Are you sure you want to go yourself?”

“I’ll not leave my father, brother, and their crews in the hands of pirates,” Erik insisted, clearly insulted by Brendan’s question. “Besides, there is no one else who can lead such a voyage.”

Brendan flashed a knowing grin. “Yes, there is. I’ll do it, but I must have my freedom before I set sail.”

“Isn’t there something else you’d like as well?” Erik eyed the thrall with an accusing glance, surprised he had not had the audacity to come right out and ask for Dana.

Stung by the taunt, Brendan’s eyes narrowed slightly, for while he would not deny that Dana was definitely a prize worth bargaining for, he wanted to rescue Haakon before he mentioned her. “No, there isn’t,” he answered coldly. “My freedom will be payment enough for the time being.”

While Brendan had proven himself trustworthy in many respects, Erik considered this too much. “You must think me a great fool. Given a ship and silver to pay a ransom, you’d have no reason to save Haakon and Svien. I doubt you’d even make the attempt.”

There had been a time when he would have killed a man for questioning his integrity in so insulting a fashion, but Brendan knew masters trusted their slaves no more than slaves trusted their masters. Each was forever trying to get the better of the other, and this situation was no different from any other.

“Call Soren and let’s go home,” the wily thrall suggested. “No decision needs to be made this morning, but I think you’ll soon see I’m the best hope you have to set Haakon and Svien free.”

Not about to debate the issue any further, Erik complied only with Brendan’s request that they return home.

Once informed of Jørn’s return, Grena and Olga hastened to Freya’s, but the closer they rode to her sister’s farm, the more frightened Grena became. She had the right to demand Erik be kept away, but she dared not insist Jarald be banished as well. As desperately worried as she was about her eldest son, she was even more terrified of the man who had used her so badly. When she arrived and found him sitting with Freya, she quickly forced her eyes away, but it unnerved her to know he enjoyed such a close friendship with her sister.

Not bothering with a greeting, she asked quickly, “Where is my son?”

Freya came forward to embrace her sister, and thinking the coolness of her response only natural, she did not comment on it. “He’s in Soren’s chamber. Berit and Dana are with him.”

Eager to flee Jarald’s presence, Grena immediately pushed by Freya. Olga followed carrying a large basket filled with the dried herbs she used in creating her potions. A tiny woman with a nervous temperament and the darting gaze of a bird, she gave Jarald a cursory and highly disapproving glance as she passed by him. The two women swiftly made their way from the large hall to the bedchambers that lay beyond.

Too distraught over the state in which she found her son, Grena wasted no energy berating Berit for leaving home, but instead simply ignored the girl and gave her full attention to Jørn. When it became obvious to Berit that her mother’s mood was not a conciliatory one, she drew Dana to the door.

“It’s plain I’m not needed here, so I think after I dress I’ll go see what I can do for Jørn’s crew.”

“I’ll go with you,” Dana instantly agreed, and the two young women changed from their night clothes to more appropriate attire and left together. They soon had tents raised beneath the oak tree nearest the house so the ailing men could easily receive the care they needed. Moving those suffering from the fever required several trips, but they pressed the stable boys and shepherds into service and soon had the feat accomplished.

It did not surprise Brendan to find Dana had organized everything so beautifully by the time he returned with Erik. She was used to running all facets of the farm, so it appeared even emergency measures came easily to her. He saw Moira hurrying by carrying water and towels. She had tied back her hair as he had once suggested, and he chuckled to himself at the thought she would never have a better opportunity to meet young men in need of a wife. He just hoped none that she took a fancy to died.

Erik caught Dana’s eye, and motioned for her to join them. “What have you told your mother?”

“Nothing yet, although I think I’ve pieced together what’s happened. I can understand how Jørn could be captured by pirates, or even Svien, but not our father. He’s far too fierce in combat to fall prey to pirates.”

Dana was directing her comments to Erik, as though he was not also standing by her side, and while Brendan could understand why she would be upset with him, he did not think such rudeness was justified. “Pirates are a treacherous lot. You mustn’t think less of your father for falling prey to them.”

Slowly and with deliberate effort, Dana raised her glance to meet Brendan’s, but she found him regarding her with a cool detachment she had not seen from him in a very long while. Apparently he was interested in discussing pirates without regard to their talk before dawn, while she felt as though she had gone from one dreadful emotional blow to another without any opportunity to recover from the first.

“Nothing could diminish my love for my father,” Dana informed Brendan with a cold indifference that mirrored his. “Now let’s see if we can’t break this news to my mother as gently as possible.”

Erik turned to observe Brendan’s reaction to Dana’s surprising aloofness, but he found the thrall’s mood equally difficult to judge. Something strange was happening between them, but this was definitely not the time to inquire as to what. Taking his half sister’s arm, he escorted her into the house with Brendan following closely behind. For Freya’s benefit, he tried to appear supremely confident, but the prospect of embarking on a voyage to rescue his father terrified him, for he could not even imagine that he would be able to defeat the man who had gotten the better of Haakon.

Chapter Twenty

As Dana, Berit, Soren, and Brendan gathered around the hearth where Freya, Thora, and Jarald were seated, Erik bent down on one knee at his stepmother’s side. Taking her hands in his, he tried to soften the pain his words would inevitably bring, but he had barely begun to speak when she interrupted him.

Freya pulled her right hand from Erik’s fond grasp, then caressed his cheek sweetly. “It’s Haakon and Svien, isn’t it? Jarald has already assured me that if that is the case, then he’ll not only deliver the ransom, but make certain they return home safely.”

While he had been determined to lead such a rescue party himself, although he was well aware he was sorely lacking in the necessary skills to do so, Erik was relieved beyond words to hear Jarald had already volunteered. “How can we thank you?” he asked him.

“You needn’t. Haakon would do the same for me,” Jarald reminded Erik, but the glance he gave Dana readily conveyed it was the red-haired beauty’s gratitude that he truly craved.

Knowing his father’s love of adventure, Erik agreed with their guest’s observation. “Yes, I know that he would. I want to go with you. I’ve little experience with either sailing or fighting, but I’m going with you. I must.”

Readily understanding Erik’s need to accompany him, Jarald had no objection. “Of course you may come with me. I’ll need every man I can find willing to make such a dangerous voyage.”

“Rather than outfight the pirates, we ought to simply outwit them,” Dana interjected in an excited rush. “I want to go too. With Svien captured, the responsibilities of Haakon’s eldest heir fall to me. It is not only my right, but my duty to deliver the ransom.”

While Brendan’s mouth fell agape at the ridiculousness of the idea, Jarald greeted it with enthusiasm. “If your mother will permit it, I’ll take you,” he offered with a grin that grew wide when Dana responded with a smile. He had no doubt he could outfight any Norseman ever born, and if Dana were there to be impressed by the sight, then so much the better.