after supper is good for you.’
‘Unlikely. I’ve no time for games.’ His gaze raked her form, making her aware of her slight curves. ‘Even with a Valkyrie such as yourself.’
Sayrid pulled the cloak tighter about her body. Normally she never thought about such things, but the way he looked at her made her intensely aware that she was a woman.
The faint sound of oars slapping the water gave her courage. Blodvin and Regin were safe.
‘No idea what you are talking about.’ Sayrid made a steady shrug, but her heart thrummed. Encountering a legendary sea king had not featured in her plan, but she could still make it work if she kept calm. ‘If you’ll forgive me, I’ve business elsewhere.’
‘I would speak with my intended bride. Fetch her.’
Sayrid sucked in her breath. Blodvin definitely needed her eyesight adjusting if she thought Hrolf Eymundsson grizzled in any shape or fashion. He might not be in the first flush of youth, but he was very easy on the eye.
‘Find a willing bride.’
The dimple in his cheek increased. ‘Are you offering to take her place?’
‘Hardly!’ She slowly curled and uncurled her hands to stop them trembling. ‘Next time, make sure the bride has not irrevocably pledged her heart to another.’
‘Her father claims she is free.’
Sayrid rolled her eyes upwards. ‘Ask him who else has paid the bride price.’
‘Shall we ask him together? You and I, Valkyrie?’
Time to melt into the shadows. Sayrid took another step backwards. All her muscles tensed, ready for the final piece of her escape. All she needed was one more step. ‘Another time.’
The warrior reached out and grabbed her arm, dragging her back against him. ‘The truth...Valkyrie. Why have you kidnapped my bride? What grudge do you hold against me?’
She matched his furious blue gaze with one of her own. ‘Ask Bloodaxe why he sought to cheat my family.’
He looked puzzled, but then a wide smile broke out over his face, transforming it. Her heart skipped a beat and her entire being was aware of him as a man. Sayrid angrily damped down the feeling. ‘Your grievance is with Bloodaxe, not me. But you should take this to the Storting and allow the jaarl to resolve it.’
‘You expect him to rule in your favour, Sea King? The jaarl is a man of law who won’t rule in favour of whoever pays him the most gold.’
Hrolf froze. The split heartbeat of hesitation allowed Sayrid to twist her arm out of his grip and start sprinting for the river.
Behind her, she heard the pounding of his footsteps, but she kept on running.
Five steps from the river, a heavy weight landed on her shoulder and spun her around. ‘Try that again and I won’t be responsible for the consequences.’
His furious face was inches from hers. Their breath laced and she was aware of his muscle-bound arms imprisioning her.
Sayrid forced her shoulders to relax as she scanned the darkened river. She spotted her brother’s rowboat, moving downstream. All she had to do was to let the current take her—the backup plan she’d worked out with Regin.
She leant forward. Her breasts accidently brushed his chest, making her body tingle. For one long heartbeat, an intense awareness of his lips filled her. If she slanted her head slightly to the right, their mouths would meet. She checked the movement with less than a breath to spare. ‘I will take the consequences.’
Ducking, she wriggled free from his now-slack arm and tore the few yards to the river. Wading into thigh-deep water, she executed a perfect dive.
Hrolf stared at the dark river, willing the woman to resurface. He’d miscalculated badly. His entire being had wanted to taste her deep red lips and he’d allowed her to escape. He had no business calling himself a sea king if he behaved like an untried warrior who had never bedded a woman before.
Then he saw her head break out of the water as she drifted towards a small rowing boat. Someone pulled her aboard. Over the water, the sounds of laughter floated back.
Hrolf tightened his grip on his sword. ‘This is the beginning, Valkyrie, not the end. No one plays me for a fool.’
Sayrid’s soft kid boots made a satisfying sound as she strode towards the Assembly Hall. She wore her new leather trousers with the dark green tunic Auda had made for her last birthday belted over them. Her cape swung slightly. Everything was designed to give the impression of supreme confidence, even though her insides churned.
She had considered all eventualities. Blodvin wore her morning gift of two arm rings and a necklace. At Sayrid’s insistence, Blodvin had arranged her clothes so the pregnancy was evident to even the most casual observer. Blodvin and Regin were both prepared to swear a solemn oath that Regin was her chosen husband and she wished for no other. Surely Bloodaxe would do the decent thing and not demand Regin be declared outlaw for stealing away his only child.
Once the jaarl had declared in her favour, she would invite everyone to the wedding feast. Even now, the servants prepared the meat under Auda’s expert direction. And it would be a celebration of the joining of two families, not a lament for Regin’s death.
‘I’d wondered if you’d show, Valkyrie.’
Sayrid missed a step. The trouble was that she had momentarily forgotten about him and the probability of his being at the Assembly. And now the man who had recently featured in her dreams leant against the side of the building. Why was he not sitting quietly next to Ingvar Bloodaxe or, better still, departing from these shores in search of another bride?
‘Hrolf Eymundsson.’ She met his dark blue gaze without flinching. ‘Little point in arriving early and wasting my time.’
‘Sayrid Avildottar.’ He inclined his head so that his light brown hair flowed down his face, hiding his eyes. ‘Valkyrie suits you better. After all, you are the shield maiden who controls the magically secured harbour. How many raiders have lost their ships trying?’
‘Three came to grief after my father’s death, but it was more poor seamanship on their part than magic on mine.’
‘That is not what the gossips say.’
Her heart gave a little flutter, but then it sank. She knew what the gossips said about her and her lifestyle. ‘I’m flesh and blood, not one of Odin’s handmaidens. A series of blockades guard the harbour.’
‘Yet you swim. I hear rumours of your skill with the sword as well. Bloodaxe curses your name and fabled prowess on a daily basis.’
The rumours normally never bothered her, but a small part of her wished that he had remarked on her skills as a trader or navigator. She shook her head. Next she’d be hoping he found her attractive. Her limitations in the dainty and feminine part of life were as legendary as her skill with the sword.
‘I was never very good with the needle. Far too big and clumsy. My stepmother used to despair,’ she said, forcing her neck muscles to relax. If Hrolf thought he was going to humiliate her, he had another think coming. She’d long ago left behind the stringy girl who hid in the shadows praying that no one would notice her. She courted notoriety as it kept her ships and men safe. ‘The sword suits me better.’
He pushed off the wall, causing the dark blue velvet cloak he wore to swirl about his narrow hips. On his arms, there were at least three heavy gold arm rings. Everything about him proclaimed that he was indeed as successful as the gossips implied.
‘Was that what the other night was about, adding to your legend?’
‘Preserving