By Love Enslaved (44 page)

Still fighting to control his temper, Brendan looked over Dana’s shoulder, thinking her farm as impressive a place as he had when he had first arrived. The servants were as industrious as he had supposed, and he had yet to hear a word of complaint about Haakon from any of them. He should have realized long before this that the man had to be of good character, but unfortunately he hadn’t. Erik had called Dana her father’s daughter, and now focusing his glance on her troubled frown, he realized that he had come to trust her too late.

“I was determined to hate you all,” he admitted with unusual candor. “From the day Trom took me prisoner, hatred was all that kept me alive. I vowed to survive no matter what agony he put me through. To survive, return home, and one day give him the brutal execution he deserves. It’s Trom I want, Dana. Don’t think I offered to help out of concern for you or your family. Your mother was right. My goal is a purely selfish one.”

“What are you saying? That you will steal the ransom if you can?”

“No, I’m no thief,” Brendan assured her. “But I don’t want to ask the help of Danes to rid my homeland of the Norsemen and then find we are worse off than before.”

Dana searched her mind, seeking a means to allay his fears, and an idea swiftly presented itself. “You must put that worry aside for the time being, Brendan. Now the challenge is to free my father and brother. Once that is accomplished, you can deal with Trom in any way you choose.” Taking a step closer, she raised her hand to sweep away a curl the breeze had blown across her cheek and then laid her palm upon his chest.

“I can’t speak for what other Danes may do, but I can give you my word that, once freed, my father and brother will not return to Erin unless you invite them to do so. Despite our many differences, I know that your heart is good. You once promised that you would not harm those I love, and I’ll gladly make the same promise to you. Erik and I need you to set our father and brother free. You need us to return to Erin and defeat Trom. Let’s join forces and make it one quest, not two.”

The touch of Dana’s hand warmed Brendan clear through, but he successfully fought the impulse to draw her into his arms and foolishly pledge not only his love but his life as well. “How does Jarald fit into your plans?” he asked instead.

The coldness of his tone gave her the impression he must find her touch objectionable, and Dana dropped her hand to her side. She turned away for a moment and looked out over the water. “He’ll be coming soon, perhaps tomorrow,” she murmured more to herself than to her companion. “I’m going to tell you something. I don’t want you to confront Jarald with it, just remember it.”

Intrigued, Brendan reached out to touch her shoulder and turn her back toward him. “What is it?”

Dana quickly related what she and Berit had learned from Ulla. She had not told anyone what conclusion she had drawn, but it troubled her deeply. “Grena and Jarald may have been lovers for a long while. If so—”

A clever man, Brendan instantly understood what Dana was hinting at. “Then he could have been the one who set the fire and nearly killed me! No wonder Erik found no tracks leading back to Grena’s house. He and his men would have covered Jarald’s trail when they brought me here.”

Dana nodded. “That seems likely. We need him, though, Brendan. We need his ship and crew to reach Erin and free my father and Svien. Once that’s accomplished, we can force him to tell us the truth about the night of the fire.”

“We?” Brendan asked with the first smile she had seen from him in several days.

“I’ll not forgive him for trying to kill you. Did you think I would?”

“That he’s slept with Grena doesn’t insult you?”

“That scarcely compares to what he did to you,” Dana scoffed. “I care not at all in whose bed he sleeps, but I’ll not allow anyone to mistreat you.”

She looked so adamant that Brendan could not suppress a laugh. “Why won’t you admit that you love me, when it’s so obvious that you do?”

That he would tease her again about so vital a matter hurt Dana badly. “I’m not the one who wanted to end what we’ve shared,” she reminded him with an accusing stare.

She had put the blame squarely on him, where he knew it belonged, but before Brendan could find some eloquent way to beg her forgiveness for what had surely been the worst mistake of his life, he saw Erik hurrying toward them. “Does Erik know what you suspect?”

“No, I’ve told only you.”

“It will be our secret then,” Brendan replied.

“One of many,” Dana whispered as Erik reached her side.

Seeing Brendan’s smile, Erik assumed Dana had succeeded in winning his cooperation. With an embarrassed stammer, the dark-haired young man asked for a swimming lesson.

Dana left them, and the opportunity to ask her to meet him that night was lost. While that dampened Brendan’s spirits considerably, he gave his full attention to teaching Erik how to swim, and because the young man was so eager a pupil, he did not find the task disagreeable, but he did not waste the chance to again insist he be given his freedom before the voyage to Erin.

Wisely, Freya had not asked Grena and Berit to share a sleeping chamber, so Berit still had a room of her own. Just as she had on previous nights, she waited anxiously for Erik to join her, and he did not disappoint her. He slipped through her door as soon as the house was quiet, drew her into a fervent embrace, and covered her face with adoring kisses. When he felt the dampness of her tears, he held her all the more tightly.

“It will take less than a week to reach Erin,” he whispered. “No more than a day or two to free Haakon and Svien, and then another week to return home. We’ve known each other all our lives. Don’t you think our love will survive if we’re apart three weeks?”

The reassuring words did not help Berit overcome her fears. “I’m not afraid for our love, only for you!” she replied.

Brendan had taught him how to float, but Erik knew it would take many more lessons before he could actually swim. He also had Brendan to thank for whatever skills he had gained with a sword, but they would need to practice each night when they put in to shore. He was not yet a warrior of any merit, but he had taken the first steps and was confident his courage would not fail him when it came time to apply what he had learned.

“I’m no coward, Berit. I’ll not ask Brendan and Jarald to save my father and brother. I want to do that myself. If you’re going to continue to weep and beg me not to go, then I’ll leave you now. If you have no faith in me tonight, perhaps you’ll have some by the time I return.”

Not about to let him leave, Berit refused to release her hold on him. “I have enormous faith in you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be afraid.”

Seeing they were getting nowhere, Erik led her to the bed. “This is what I want you to think about while I’m gone, Berit, only this,” he murmured as he loosened the tie at her throat and slipped her nightgown off her shoulders. “With your love, I can do anything. You mustn’t doubt that, for I never will.”

Responding to what she knew was only the first of many delicious kisses they would exchange, Berit did not speak again of her fears, but that did not mean that they were forgotten, only suppressed for the night, if not forever.

Jarald arrived at dawn and not with a knarr, the deep-sea vessel he had captained for trading, but with a dreki, one of the sleek warships with which the Danes had not only crossed the seas, but also challenged Europe’s rivers and conquered her people. Called the
Seahawk
,
its ornately carved prow and stern gave the ship a majestic elegance that belied her deadly purpose.

At the first glimpse of the
Seahawk’s
diamond-patterned sail in the distance, Brendan’s mind flooded with memories of death so intense he was certain he could actually smell the sickly-sweet scent of blood. He did not think he could stand to go near the ship, let alone sail it home. When Dana slipped her hand in his, he was so lost in his own thoughts he was badly startled.

“Jarald must not suspect that we know of his alliance with Grena,” the stunning redhead warned in a hushed tone. “Do no more than watch and wait. The time for revenge will soon come.”

Dana smiled when he glanced down at her, but the light in her eyes danced with a chilling gleam. That morning he had made another fruitless attempt to convince Erik to leave the beautiful young woman at home. Now he was forced to accept the fact that Dana had a natural talent for intrigue and would undoubtedly be the asset her brother had repeatedly insisted that she would be.

Overcoming his own stubborn resistance to taking Dana along, Brendan realized that, once in Erin, he might somehow find the means to convince her to stay, and suddenly her presence became extremely desirable. He gave her hand a tender squeeze, then released it before the others standing on the dock noticed how close they were standing or, indeed, suspected how close they truly were.

Dana welcomed Jarald with a friendly smile, then had to suffer through one of his boisterous hugs before she could speak. “We’ll soon have your boat loaded with our things, but we need to speak with Jørn one last time before we sail.”

Brendan and Erik followed close behind as Dana and Jarald started for the house, but not before they had gotten a good look at Jarald’s crew. To a man they were as well-built as their captain, and their expressions showed them to be a determined lot. “Were Haakon’s crew anything like these men?” Brendan inquired softly.

Erik glanced back over his shoulder. “Fit, you mean?”

“Fit?” Near giants was closer to the truth, but Brendan did not argue. “Yes. Are they able to handle themselves in a fight?”

“Obviously not or Trom wouldn’t be holding them for ransom, would he?” Erik was quick to point out.

“It isn’t like Trom to give anyone the chance to fight.” Quickening his pace, Brendan entered the house, hoping Jørn would swiftly set him free so they could be on their way. Unfortunately, despite Erik and Dana’s encouragement, Jarald advised against it, and clearly Jørn had greater respect for the older man’s judgment than he did for his cousins’.

Still pale and weak, Jørn had neither the strength nor the initiative to argue and wanted the matter settled. “When Brendan returns with Haakon and Svien, I’ll set him free. Not before.”

Infuriated, Brendan moved closer to Jørn’s bed, but Dana stepped in front of him to block his way as she continued to argue with her cousin. “You’ve admitted that it’s entirely your fault that my father and Svien were taken captive by Trom. Because you can’t return with the ransom yourself, a ransom which by all rights you should have been the one to raise, the very least you can do is send a freeman rather than a thrall in your place.”

Jarald was too startled by Dana’s impassioned plea to contradict her, while Brendan’s heart swelled with pride. Dana cleverly played upon Jørn’s guilt over his uncle and cousin’s plight until he lay cringing in a tearful heap. Then, taking Brendan’s arm, she drew him forward. Her whole family had filed into the room, and she included them all in her glance. “You have witnesses aplenty here. Now set this man free so we can be on our way. Your illness has already cost us too many days.”

Thoroughly humiliated, Jørn immediately granted Dana’s demand. “You are a free man, Brendan. I have no further claim on you.”

Elated, Brendan wanted to shout with joy, but before he could, Erik spoke up in a tone every bit as confident as his half sister’s. “I intend to wed Berit,” he informed his bedridden cousin. “Your mother says I’ll have to fight you to the death for that privilege. Be ready for that battle when we return.”

“What?” Jørn gasped. He turned a frantic glance toward his mother, whose hate-filled stare readily confirmed his worst fears. “No, wait, we must discuss this!” he pleaded.

“I have no time now, Jørn,” Erik replied with a careless shrug. Taking Berit’s hand, he led her from the crowded room, with Dana and Brendan following close behind.

While he would have taken a perverse pleasure in listening to Grena attempt to convince Jørn he had to fight Erik when clearly the fearful young man was loath to do it, Jarald was too eager to be on his way to tarry. He slid his arm around Freya’s waist and escorted her from Jørn’s bedchamber.

“Family arguments are best left to those involved,” he confided with a warm smile. “I may not have another opportunity to assure you I will make our voyage a success, but I do want you to know that I will.”

“I have every confidence in you, Jarald,” Freya replied, delighted he had provided her with a means to leave her nephew’s chamber at so embarrassing a moment. She was glad Erik had made his plans clear, however, as it would have been a difficult secret to keep until his return.

Nearly overwhelmed with gratitude, Brendan had no opportunity to convey it to Dana when the keys she carried were needed to open the storehouse where Haakon kept his weapons. Once the door was swung open and Soren carried a lamp inside, the exuberant Celt was instantly reminded of how dangerous their undertaking was.

While Haakon and Svien had taken their favorite weapons with them, there were still dozens left behind. There were long swords with gleaming blades, whose wavy patterns showed how they had been fashioned from iron bars twisted together and then pounded flat. Battle-axes lay along another wall, with spears whose graceful leaf-shaped blades glowed in the dim light. There were also bows and arrows, shields, helmets, and shirts of mail known as byrnies.