Harlequin Historical May 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Notorious in the West\Yield to the Highlander\Return of the Viking Warrior (59 page)

‘Are you trying to tell me something?' Kara ground out. She hated that Ash considered her easy to understand. ‘If so, know I, too, learn from my mistakes. I tend not to repeat them.'

‘Am I a mistake?'

‘I haven't decided.' She saw a flash of hurt cross Ash's face and remorse went through her. ‘However, you gave me Rurik and he could never be a mistake.'

‘Then you agree to a match tomorrow night, so you can show me how wise you've become overnight?'

Kara winced. She'd intended to find an excuse. ‘I accept your challenge.'

‘Good. I look forward to testing your skill to the limit. We are well matched, even if you refuse to see it.' Ash reached for the pitcher of ale and poured a glass. ‘The skald should sing other songs. Something a bit more pleasing to the ear.' He mentioned one of the sagas she used to love.

She shook her head. ‘The hour is late and the song is long. I need my rest.'

‘Then I wish you pleasant dreams. Remember the choice of venue for our match is yours.'

Kara was intensely aware of his gaze on her mouth. Her lips ached as if he passionately kissed them.

‘Here will be sufficient. No wagers—I've seen how you play.'

‘If I'd truly wanted you off balance, there were other ways. I'll allow you your illusions for now.' His low voice followed her out of the room.

* * *

Once Kara reached her chamber, she halted and sunk down to her knees, disgusted at how her body hummed with desire for his touch. She couldn't risk her heart. Not again. Denying the attraction was practically impossible, but her heart shattering again was worse. Ash was far from dependable. She tried to recite the litany of his failings, but kept finding reasons why they no longer applied. She breathed deeply and knew the night would be a fight against dreaming about him and how good they could be together.

* * *

‘My lady!' Thora burst in the kitchen where Kara supervised the bread-making several mornings later. ‘They have begun the training early. Your son has a sword, a proper long sword.'

‘A sword? Yesterday it was only a stick.' Kara looked up from her portion of bread dough. Ash should have asked her before he put a sharp blade in her son's hands. She thought he would have discussed it with her first, perhaps during their nightly tafl matches. So much for his easy words about consulting her.

She slammed her fist against the bread dough. Less than a week and he'd reverted to type. Would she never learn—words came easy to Ash and then he did precisely what he pleased. It would be no coincidence that Ash had started the training early. He probably hoped to keep it a secret.

‘I thought you'd want to know. It is a pleasure to watch the sell-swords train. The way their muscles bulge when they fight... A feast for the eyes.'

Kara hurriedly cleaned her hands. ‘Yes, thank you. Take over the kneading, please.'

Kara picked up her skirts and ran to the practice yard. The various sell-swords were busy training and several of the women had found excuses to watch. She clapped her hands and immediately they turned away and started to be busy about their tasks again.

In the centre, Ash stood with Rurik. Rurik struggled to lift a sword nearly as tall he was. Its overly sharpened blade gleamed. One false move and Rurik could get cut or worse. She frantically signalled to Ash to halt.

‘Ash! Ash! Rurik is too little! Stop this nonsense immediately.'

‘Watch and decide!'

‘But...!

‘You promised to give me a chance! Give it!'

Ash kept his gaze on Rurik, but saw Kara sit down in a huff. His neck muscles tensed. He wanted to get this right not only for Rurik, but to prove to Kara that he could be trusted. If she wouldn't trust him with this, how could he get her to trust the marriage?

It was important that Rurik learn he needed to grow before he could use a sword. This morning he'd discovered his son standing with a sword and spouting nonsense to various kitchen boys. He had no idea where Rurik had found the sword, but Rurik needed to learn that such weapons were not toys and must be treated with the proper respect.

‘Reach like this, Rurik, not like you were doing before. You will lose your sword before the battle truly begins.' Ash showed Rurik how to properly lunge with the sword for the tenth time. ‘You wanted to use a sword for today's practice. Let's see what you can do.'

The boy's face narrowed with concentration as he copied each of the easy moves that Ash showed him. His entire being glowed.

Kara did not move from where she sat, but watched very move. Every time he glanced over, her face appeared more set. Beautiful, but judgemental and cold. His heart plummeted. Surely she had to see what he was doing—making sure his son knew how to respect a sword. He knew in his heart that it was the correct thing to do. He would beg her forgiveness if it came to it.

‘When will I be able to fight for real?' Rurik asked, wiping sweat from his happy face. ‘Warriors need to fight other warriors. It is what they do. With proper swords. Hacking each other until the blood comes and I get scars.'

‘Who told you that?' Ash enquired mildly, guessing the answer.

‘Virvir. He said that I couldn't be a true warrior unless I fought. Scars are the sign of a true warrior.'

‘And when did he tell you this?'

Rurik tucked his head. ‘Last night. We arranged it. I wanted to show him what I'd learnt. He called it babyish.'

It didn't surprise Ash that Rurik had found a way to see his friend. He hoped that within a few weeks, once Rurik began to properly train, he would see Virvir for the braggart and bully that he was. But he had to go slow. ‘Is Virvir a warrior?'

Rurik considered it. ‘No, but he knows a lot of special things. He listens when people think he isn't there. What I'm doing is baby stuff. Real warriors use swords.'

‘And how did Virvir get in?'

‘Through the kitchens. And he told me where to find my grandfather's weapons. It is very easy to take the sword.'

Ash knelt down beside his son, glad of the intelligence. He would ensure the weapons were moved immediately. If Virvir knew, others would.

‘The next time he tells you something, you come to me and ask if it is true, before taking a weapon.' He put his hand on Rurik's shoulder. ‘I have fought in more battles than he has and no longer have to listen to rumours.'

Rurik blinked. ‘You are not angry that I saw him? Mor will be. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, Virvir said. It was to be our secret and now I've told.'

Ash glanced over his shoulder towards where Kara sat, face thunderous. Her two dogs lay at her feet. The autumn sunlight highlighted her golden hair and kissed her skin. He felt the now-familiar tug of attraction towards her. How could one woman be so attractive and maddening at the same time? What more could he do to show he was worthy of a place in her bed? Each time he got closer, she seemed to slip out of his grasp. He needed the final key to unlock her passion, but he was fresh out of ideas. It had to be something simple.

He glanced down at Rurik. ‘If you know you might make your mother unhappy, why do you do it?'

‘Otherwise I'd never get to do anything. I'm not a baby. I want to do things and Virvir knows everything.'

‘There is more to being a warrior than thirsting after glory or recounting stories. A warrior uses his head as well as his strength. Lift that sword and no complaining. I promised I'd make you into a warrior, but you have to trust me.'

Rurik nodded and lifted the sword again. His small arms trembled with the exertion and he dropped the sword almost immediately. ‘I...I...'

‘Again, Rurik,' Ash said.

The session would be shorter than usual so that Rurik wasn't completely exhausted, but it would have to be carefully done as the last thing he wanted to imply was that Rurik was too weak. Rurik bristled when anyone suggested that he was sickly or somehow not up to the task. His son was a fighter, which Ash thanked the gods for, but that fight had to be channelled correctly. He had seen far too many men make mistakes in anger.

‘Rurik is tired,' Kara called out from where she sat when Rurik failed to lift the sword for the third time. ‘Ash, he must come inside and have a rest.'

Rurik shook his head. ‘I'm not the baby Mor thinks I am.'

‘Rurik needs to lift the sword first,' Ash called back. ‘Go on, lift the sword over your head. Show your mother you can do it.'

Rurik redoubled his efforts, planted his feet firmly and lifted the sword. For a heartbeat, it hung in the air as Rurik staggered.

‘You did it, Rurik,' Ash called out immediately and Rurik released the sword with a huge sigh. ‘The session is over for today. I have other things to do this morning. I have to train, as well. And a good warrior listens to his commander. Think of your mother as your commander. Respect her.'

‘Is it done?' Kara called out, coming over to where they stood.

‘Why don't you sit here and watch my men train for a treat?' Ash said before Kara had a chance to drag him off. ‘You can see that real warriors do use wooden swords.'

Rurik's eyes shone. ‘Can I, Mor? Please!'

Kara nodded that he could, but her face was like thunder. Ash gritted his teeth. She had agreed that he could train Rurik, but she was very quick to give Rurik permission to quit. He had to learn that just because a thing was hard, it didn't mean he should give up. Ash had been in control of the situation.

‘Please, Kara. It is your choice now that Rurik's training has finished for today.'

Ash looked down at the perfect sculpted brows. Every time he saw her, it amazed him that he had been blind to her promise seven years ago. Or maybe he hadn't wanted to see. She instantly straightened her apron dress. She wore the brooches he had given her as a morning gift after they had married. He remembered how her eyes had sparkled and shone and how he always wanted to have her look at him like that—like he was worth something. He wanted to throttle his younger self for hurting her.

Whatever happened with his uncle, he vowed that Kara and Rurik would be kept safe.

‘He can stay,' she said with a sigh. ‘When he looks that eager, how can I deny him anything?'

Ash bent down and looked his son squarely in the eyes. ‘Your mother allows things when asked. Go on. Talk to Saxi. See if you can pick up any tips from that old warrior. He never tires of talking about the battles he has fought.'

He ruffled Rurik's hair and then pushed him towards his men. Rurik ran off and started chatting with various warriors, including Saxi. Ash gave a satisfied nod. Saxi would give him sound advice combined with an embellished story or two. Virvir and his bloodthirsty tales would soon be a thing of the past. And he could concentrate on Kara.

‘Will he be safe with them? You said they were desperate men.'

‘Men become much less desperate with a good meal in their bellies and a solid roof over their head.'

‘They are no farmers. They are warriors. There is a difference.'

Ash tilted his head to one side, trying to assess her mood. ‘Warriors have their place.'

‘But I want someone who understands the land.'

‘Like you do.'

Her mouth became a disapproving line. ‘I only learnt because I had to.'

‘It will do him good to observe warriors in action and to talk to them. He can pick up a number of tips.' Ash paused and knew he had to tell her about Rurik's confidences. ‘He saw Virvir last night. He was the cause of the earlier trouble. I thought you should know.'

‘Virvir!' Her face crumpled. ‘Why does Rurik keep defying me? I wish I'd never taken the boy in. He has been nothing but trouble.'

‘Boys will be boys. Let me handle this, Kara.' Silently he willed her to compromise. ‘See how excited he is. My men will keep him from harm. He will learn that the best warriors respect women.'

‘Sell-swords?'

‘Men who know how to use weapons properly, rather than bullies who will simply encourage bad behaviour,' Ash corrected.

Kara bit her lip, turning it the colour of autumn rosehips. ‘Very well. I suppose I should go and see about the sewing. There is more to getting ready for winter than watching warriors train, despite what my women seem to believe. By the time your men depart, I suspect more than one woman will have a full belly.'

‘Stay. Stay and watch me train,' he asked softly, willing her to agree. He used to find excuses to send her away, but now he wanted her there. He wanted to show off for her. She had to be softening a little. ‘Like you used to.'

Her cheeks coloured slightly, but she turned her head towards the dogs. ‘Why would I want to do that? I've no need of learning swordplay. I have no wish ever to be in a battle and there are a thousand things I need to do.'

‘Because I work harder when I know you are watching.'

‘Showing off.' Her tongue flicked out and wet her lips, turning them a deeper red than the last of the summer cherries.

‘Demonstrating my skill.'

‘A warrior's skill has no place in a peaceful farm. Why not demonstrate your skills with livestock or bringing in the grain?'

Ash's jaw tightened. Kara intended on fighting him for every morsel of respect and he knew he could not explain about his plan. If he did, she'd take Rurik away and any hope he had of gaining their regard would vanish. Some day he'd prove to her that she needed him and his unique skills.

‘They ensure a farm stays at peace. You have enough men to do the other tasks, but this estate is not very well defended.' He paused, seeing her slightly shocked expression as she lifted her head from the dogs. ‘Are you going to deny it?'

Kara tilted her chin in the air, looking the picture of a virtuous lady. It was all he could do to keep his hands at his sides, rather than grabbing and kissing her red lips. He had trouble remembering the last time he'd had to exercise this much self-control.