Blood and Loyalty

  Blood and Loyalty

  Copyright © 2017 Abigail Riherd

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Contact information: abigailriherd@gmail.com

  Publishing History

  Abigail Riherd, December 2017

  Map/Chapter Header Illustrator: R. Merrial Alger

  For Nicole.

  This book wouldn’t exist without you. So, basically it’s all your fault.

  For Jen.

  You’re the only person living who’s read every word I’ve ever written. Yikes.

  Table of Contents

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Links

  “We are agreed?” the man asked impatiently, his thumbs tracing the raised scars through his woman’s silk shift. She stood beside him, stone-faced and unresponsive. Perhaps he’d give her another cut tonight. His mouth quirked at the thought. He was ready for this thing of fools to be over. He watched with a deceptive coolness as the others exchanged wide-eyed looks of excitement.

  “Agreed,” they murmured in unison, the low torchlight reflected in their wolfish grins.

  “Good. Tomorrow, then. After the great feast.” It was the man’s turn to add his wicked teeth to the circle. Tomorrow they die.

  “Oof.” Disa found herself looking up at the sky again.

  “Is the lady tired?” Grim asked in an imperious tone that didn’t suit his battle-scarred appearance. Disa scowled at him and sat up, gritting her teeth as her backend smarted. She’d fallen more times today than she’d care to admit. “Perhaps the soon-to-be wife of a Jarl, mistress of all she purveys, should stick to something more feminine. A bow, perhaps. Or better yet,” he continued, handing her fallen sword to her once again, “perhaps the lady should let her guard do the fighting for her.”

  Disa snatched the sword from his grasp and refused to take the bait. Grim smirked at someone over her shoulder and raised his fist in an overly enthusiastic salute. She didn’t need to follow his gaze to know he was still there, looming over them all at the top of that wretched hill. She raised her sword. “Again.”

  Grim was in no hurry. He planted his shield in the ground and leaned on it, his eyes still focused behind her. “Are you sure you won’t let me fight him? He is far too pretty to be as good as they say. A broken nose would suit him, I think.”

  Disa hit the side of his head with the flat of her blade. The blow hardly stung, but he glowered at her nonetheless. “It’s easy to be pretty when you’ve silver enough for a helmet.”

  Grim smiled wide, the burns on his face stretching garishly. “Too true, little sister. Who needs a helmet when you’ve bought your kingdom with blood?” He pulled his shield free and prepared to spar with her once more.

  Disa smiled and took a few steps back. It was a familiar conversation, one they’d revisited often since her brother Roe had announced she was to marry Rurik. It was quite an accomplishment and most of the townspeople were thrilled their Jarl had managed to secure such a rich and formidable ally.

  Grim was less impressed.

  Though he eschewed any lordly titles, Grim was Jarl of his own fierce band of meandering warriors, and as her brother’s best friend, he’d counseled against her impending marriage. His dissent counted for little in this case: Grim trusted men with money as much as he trusted men who preferred a bow to an axe, which is to say not at all. Grim was born a Thrall, a slave, and he had fought tooth and nail for everything he possessed, including his freedom, and his body showed the price. He was one of the tallest men anyone had ever seen, the effect made more imposing by his bulging muscles and innumerable scars. The most prominent of these were the burns. They covered his whole upper back, wrapped around his right shoulder, and continued up his neck before curling to a stop on the side of his head, the corner licking dangerously close to his eye. They stood out white on his shorn scalp as he tensed, waiting to cross blades with her once more.

  Disa attacked the moment Grim’s shield was back on his arm. She swung wide once, twice, and a third time, each stroke rebuked with a dull thud on the wood. Grim growled low, too busy blocking her unrelenting assault to form any more verbal quips. Her blows weren’t doing her much good though, and with each hit, Grim was stepping backward, closer to where he’d abandoned his sword to help her out of the dirt. Disa knew she couldn’t let up. She rolled on the ground, taking advantage of the agility her small frame afforded her, and was at his side in an instant, whacking the back of his ankles with her blade. Grim stumbled forward a half step and Disa was quick to repeat the maneuver. Speed was her only defense against the hulking Viking.

  Her small victory was short lived. Grim soon came back to himself after the initial surprise of her swift attack. Disa swung once again to hit the back of his legs, but this time he jumped, the momentum of the blade taking the slight girl with it. He brought his foot down on the steel, holding it in place as Disa glared up at him in mute refusal to drop her only weapon. Grim pulled the axe that was always at his back and conked her soundly on the head.

  Disa let go.

  “GRIM!” she admonished as she drew her head between her knees and covered her now pounding skull with her arms.

  “If you do not want to be squished like a bug, perhaps don’t buzz in my ear.”

  Disa narrowed her watery eyes at him from the crook in her elbow. “I almost had you on your knees,” she blustered.

  Grim threw his head back and let out a booming laugh. “I’m sure, little bee.” He looked beyond her and rolled his eyes. “Up now, little bug,” he said, throwing aside his shield and reaching for her arm. “Your guard dog has come to bark at me.”

  Disa blew out a perturbed breath and took his forearm reluctantly. The swift movement as he hauled her upright made her blink rapidly against the nauseating spin that overtook her vision. She gripped her stomach, issuing a silent plea to the gods to not let her vomit. It was a few moments before she heard Grim’s low chuckle and she batted his hands away as he made dramatic swipes to rid her clothes of dust. Grim spun her quickly once more to face the fast approaching intruder and rested his arm atop her head. Disa sucked in a pained breath between her teeth and punched Grim hard the armpit.

  “Finn,” Grim nodded in greeting as Disa rubbed her head and glared.

  Finn nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t speak, his eyes leveled on Disa in what she assumed was disapproval. She wasn’t sure she’d heard Rurik’s brother speak more than a few words since he’d joined their party a week ago. He preferred to scowl at her from a distance. His lip
s parted and he inhaled as if to speak before snapping his mouth shut and raising his chin.

  “What a fine gathering we have here!” Roe called out jovially, his arms snaking around Disa and Grim’s neck, pulling them close. Disa hadn’t heard her brother approach. She tried to shove him off which only made him hold her tighter and laugh. She kicked his shins and he relented. “Did I interrupt a match?”

  “Little bee’s been stung, and you know what a foul mood that puts her in,” Grim grinned. He went to ruffle her hair but Disa snapped her head back, pulling the small knife at her belt and cutting him across his outreached fingers instead. Grim yanked his hand back and stuck the side of his thumb in his mouth. He was still smiling.

  Disa tensed, her temper making her momentarily lose her sense, but Roe intervened. “Before you try to plant that thing in Grim’s ear, you should head back to the camp. Rurik’s party has arrived, and I doubt you wish to run into your future husband wearing trousers and a dirty tunic.”

  She prayed her face was caked enough in muck to hide her rapidly reddening cheeks, her heart suddenly pounding erratically. It would be a few days yet before she would be presented to Rurik. Hopefully she could control her reaction before then.

  Disa gave them all a withering look before turning away. She measured her pace, as not to betray her nerves - she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. She kept her chin up and strode down the well-worn path that would lead to the low stone halls the Northmen had claimed as theirs for the duration of the Thing. She had just rounded the path out of sight of the men when she heard the tell-tale footsteps echoing behind her. Disa stopped abruptly and turned. “Finn,” she bit out with a little more hostility than she’d intended. Finn stopped as well, eyebrows raised in polite curiosity, waiting for her to continue. Disa blew out a breath and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather a sense of calm. The man was going to be her brother-in-law, and besides, it wasn’t his fault he’d been ordered to shadow her day and night. “Finn,” she tried again. “I’m going to wash and change now.”

  Finn nodded once in understanding.

  Disa turned and started towards camp once more only to hear his heavy stride matching her own. “Finn!” Again he waited quietly and at a respectful distance. “I do not believe the bevy of washerwomen and maids that await me will pose much of a threat. Do you?”

  He shook his head once in what she supposed was agreement.

  Disa slowly made to move back when-- “FINN!”

  “I know you wish me to stay.” His response surprised Disa into silence. “I know you’d rather walk alone. I know you have one too many brothers at the moment.” Disa cocked her head and would have smiled if it weren’t such an exasperating day. “But I can’t stay, and you can’t walk alone. Once it was known you were to be my brother’s intended, he ordered me keep you from harm. I’m to stay with you until you have wed.”

  Disa’s shoulders fell. He said it with such finality; so many words from such a quiet man had exhausted her. She didn’t want to argue any more. “Can you at least walk beside me? I feel hunted with you trailing after me everywhere I go.”

  He furrowed his brow. “It would be better--”

  “Finn, walk beside me.”

  The edge of his mouth raised a fraction and after a moment of thought, he nodded once and joined her.

  They walked in silence as Disa, now free from the throes of temper and adrenaline, began to feel her body’s various aches and pains. The packed dirt path that wound its way around low hills as it sloped gently towards the shore made for a picturesque view of the fjord, but Disa was already dreading the climb back up in a few hours time. She rubbed her backside and frowned.

  As they neared the end of the path, it widened into a stretch of flat grassland and what would appear to be a cluster of more grassy mounds to the novice observer but were in fact several earthen buildings. They weren’t the grandest of the temporary lodgings that a great gathering like this year’s Thing could boast, but Disa preferred them to any other. The circular walls were made of sod and held up with huge wooden supports on the inside, the beams buried straight into the ground. Eventually they would rot and fall away until the next Thing and her people would resurrect them from the landscape once again. They smelled like moss and salt, and it felt closer to home than the buildings up the hill, with their great stone supports and chilly atmosphere.

  Disa raised her hand in greeting several times as she weaved around the mossy structures, and Finn, who seemed uncomfortable with so many strangers about, spoke again. “Is there anyone here you don’t know?”

  Her people weren’t alone in wanting this low place by the water. It seemed every man, woman, and child from the northernmost island of the Faroes had made camp here the last few days. “We’re a small island. Our neighbors are close.”

  “And your brother wishes to join them? To rule them as one people? Is that why you’re to marry my brother?”

  Disa gave him a narrowed sidelong glance, suspicious that he suddenly found his voice. “He will join the people if they wish it. He doesn’t need Rurik for this. My brother inspires loyalty without silver.”

  “This is true.”

  Finn looked sincere enough, but Disa couldn’t be sure. “There is too much strive abroad. It threatens us all. If we’re to remain free and keep our heads, we must move west or stand together. That is why my brother makes alliances with the Southern Faroes. Nothing more.”

  Finn nodded once and seemed to await her instruction. Disa rolled her eyes at his renewed silence and picked up the pace. She may not be able to rid herself of this particular shadow but Old Nanna would no doubt send him on his way.

  She felt her face break into a genuine smile for the first time that day. Old Nanna was standing outside the low door of their home away from home with her arms crossed and a mighty scowl. “You look like a piglet,” she offered as greeting as soon as Disa and Finn were within shouting distance.

  Disa let out sympathetic sounds pierced with laughter as she stepped behind Nanna and pressed her cheek flush with hers, wrapping her arms around the wrinkled woman’s unmoving shoulders. Disa’s gaze settled on Finn. “Now, now, Nanna. He may be pretty, but he’s not that pretty,” she smiled sweetly.

  Finn let out a small rush of air, his lips curving so fast Disa thought she may have imagined it. She looked away as she felt her cheeks flush inexplicably, saved by Old Nanna from speaking as she glared wordlessly at the Southern stranger before turning to Disa. “You,” she accused, her hands pulling at Disa’s soiled tunic, stained with sweat and dirt. “You look like a green boy, not a woman about to meet her husband.”

  Old Nanna wasn’t wrong. Disa was in fact wearing a boy’s overtunic, the simple spun wool garment falling a few inches above her knees, the tight fitting trousers a little short, showing a small expanse of leg above her soft leather boots. She pulled self-consciously at her sleeves, feeling aware of Finn’s scrutiny for the first time in weeks. “I’ll need to wash,” she said pointedly and Old Nanna picked up the thread exactly where Disa had hoped.

  “You,” she turned back to Finn. “Go.” Finn hesitated only as long as it took for Old Nanna to lift her chin commandingly, as though to refuse her order would mean dire consequences though Disa failed to see what those consequences would be. Disa herself could barely see over the towering man’s shoulders and Nan was a fair bit shorter than she. They watched as Finn retreated some distance away to the side of one of the larger halls, his body sinking into what little shade there was to be had. Nan nodded her approval and turned back to Disa. “Wash.”

  Disa shook the cobwebs from her mind. Even behind the massively thick walls of packed earth she thought she could feel him watching her.

  Finn shifted from one foot to the other. He had never been good at sitting still. He knew Disa was close. He could just see the edge of the natural wall. The debris of earth and stone that found itself pushed and piled by the tide cutting its way through the narrow fjord cre
ated more coves and inlets than a man could count. She was just over that ridge, doubtless surrounded by other women as they too washed or chatted about whatever it is women chat about when free from the ears of men. She would be safe by any reasonable measure. And yet…

  And yet Finn had watched over Disa for almost two weeks now and had come to realize that she could not be measured by anything resembling reasonable. She lacked common sense for her age and sex. She was stubborn and argumentative, questioning her brother when he was not only head of her house but also leader of her people, and doing as she pleased, be it dressing as a boy and waving a sword about or traipsing off into the wilderness alone on whim. It seemed none of this bothered Roe. In fact, her brother found it quite charming, encouraging that nomad Grim to let her chase him around the ring.

  Finn frowned thinking of this morning’s match. She wasn’t too bad, he had to admit, but the men seemed more interested in poking fun than any real instruction. When she finally seemed to be getting the best of the frightening warrior, he had bested her with a blow to the head. Finn’s frown deepened. His brother had charged him with keeping her safe and there could be no doubt he was committed to the task for when Disa feel back clutching her head, Finn was halfway down the hill where he had made his perch, hand on the hilt of his sword, without any conscious decision to do so. He still had half a mind to give Grim a good thrashing when he had reached the bottom, but Roe had arrived and dispelled the tension. He was a good man.

  Finn stopped this thought just short of envy. His brother Rurik was the same way, healing bruised prides with a charming turn of phrase or a throaty laugh, but Finn found it grating in a way he never felt with Roe. Disa’s brother was a good man while Finn’s brother was a clever one. It made a difference.

  Finn stood straighter and crossed his arms. This was a useless comparison. His brother had been chosen as Jarl of their people. He would continue to lead and Finn would continue to respect the will of the many. His brother was the finesse and he was the might. They complimented each other well. He could only hope his brother would appreciate Disa as much. If Rurik expected a quiet and submissive northern girl, he was going to be sorely disappointed. Finn felt sure a life of restraint would not suit the headstrong Disa.