Blood and Loyalty: A Viking Blood Romance Novel Read online

  “Nanna,” Disa groaned.

  “No, you are right,” she finally acquiesced. “You are very striking.” Her smile softened and her eyes gleamed. “Very grown up.”

  Disa turned away and smoothed her skirts. She couldn't look at Nan just now. If she did, the woman would say she looked just like her mother, and Disa didn't want to complicate her emotions any further.

  There was a restrained knock at the door. “Disa?” her brother called. “Grim and I are outside when you're ready to walk up.”

  Disa had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She had a feeling he was being polite due to her temper this morning and his this afternoon. It was always amusing to witness his attempt to curtail his big brother mentality. “In a moment,” she called.

  She tucked her feet into her slight leather shoes and tried not to let Nan catch her looking longingly at her mud caked boots. Her lovely, ankle supporting, wool lined boots. One last inspection from Nan who fussed unnecessarily with her hair and she was ready to go. Disa stepped out the door and looked automatically to the spot Finn regularly occupied. He wasn't there.

  She looked back at Roe to find him shaking his head. “It will never cease to be strange to see you in a dress.”

  Disa put her hands on her hips and glared. “And whose fault is that?” Being raised by her brother had led Disa to being more comfortable in the clothes he'd outgrown, both out of preference and necessity.

  Roe grinned. He was wearing a plain white tunic and brown trousers, and Disa couldn't help but think his simple dress had arisen as a statement. He no longer cared to impress anyone with a display of wealth. After all, the displays they'd been exposed to thus far were less than noble. “Am I…” she trailed off, inspecting herself. “Should I dress to match?” she asked, indicating his stark appearance.

  “Look at you.” Grim had approached without Disa noticing. She felt her face heat at his appreciative gaze. Roe whacked him in the chest with his hand. “Ow, what?”

  “No, you look nice,” Roe assured her, continuing their conversation as if they hadn't been interrupted. “Let's head up.”

  “Ok,” she agreed, glancing again at Finn's empty place.

  “I sent him away,” Roe answered, guessing at the unspoken question.

  “Why?” she asked automatically.

  Roe shrugged. “It's been a long day. Brodder and Karl are fighting.”

  “Again?” The men lived on the northernmost and smallest island in the area. It was too small to have any real need for a Jarl, but they turned to her brother often for advice or protection when needed.

  “Yes, again. Karl moved Luta up the hill. He's arranged a marriage for her with some southerner and swears his son-in-law will have Brodder’s head for whatever insult Karl has imagined he's received.”

  “Good riddance,” Grim grumbled.

  “Isn't the point of the Thing to resolve clan disputes, not instigate them?” Disa laughed.

  “It wouldn't be a proper meeting if your brother wasn't playing nursemaid to cranky old men,” Grim said.

  “And it wouldn't be a proper meeting if you weren't absent for most of it,” Roe countered.

  Grim waved off his concerns. “You know I only come here to make rich men fear their Thralls.”

  “And make sure Thralls know where to find you,” Disa added.

  “That, too,” he grinned. Grim was the only man Disa had ever met who could raid and pillage without ever unsheathing his sword. Wherever Grim went, a few slaves were bound to go missing from their master’s keep, and pity the man who questioned how Grim’s people grew.

  Their easy banter carried them over the scattering of hills that separated the shore from the large clearing that was transformed once again for the great feast. There were mismatched tables and chairs, most improvised with panels of wood between stumps or bundles of hay, and a fair share of blankets on the ground that were already occupied by men imbibing while they discussed their victories at the day's many meetings, perhaps laughing at their own Brodder and Karl encounters. The tables were being loaded down with platters of fresh fish and lamb, troughs of boiling stews, bowls of root vegetables and bitter greens, and more piles of bread than Disa could count. There were already three great bonfires being set and dozens of torches driven in the earth, which Disa thought was wise. Once the sun set, there wasn't going to be anyone sober enough to set a fire. At least not on purpose, anyway.

  Rurik's hall sat above the clearing, ablaze from within, with murmurs and laughter audible even at a distance. People were moving back and forth freely from the open air and the large building, but Disa felt she had little chance of avoiding anyone she may not wish to see. Roe was smiling at Disa. He had said something, but she hadn't been listening. “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Let's go inside first. Maybe you can draw Rurik outside so we don't roast in that damn building.”

  “Unless I'm willing to drag that damn chair outside as well, I think we're going to cook.”

  Roe laughed. “Well done. I think that's the first cutting thing you've said in days.” Disa gave him a sarcastic look. “About someone other than me,” he corrected. “Or about Rurik in particular. I was growing bored. You're not half as fun when you're lovesick.”

  “That's a strong word!” Disa bolstered.

  “It's true,” he said, lowering his voice as they neared the door and a denser crowd. “If you two didn't get on so well…”

  He never got the chance to finish. Finn stepped out and greeted them, his eyes sweeping Disa quickly. He nodded at Roe. “Rurik was just asking where you were.”

  Roe raised an eyebrow at him. “So he sent you to fetch us?” Disa elbowed her brother for his rudeness.

  Finn seemed unaware or unaffected. It was always hard to tell with him. “I was,” he answered without a trace of reproach. Roe stepped inside without comment and Disa couldn't help but be a little amused with his annoyance at having failed to get a rise out of Finn.

  Finn’s eyes glanced over Disa again and she looked down at her dress, smoothing away nonexistent wrinkles. These definitely weren't boy clothes. She looked back up at Finn and shrugged.

  He opened his mouth to comment but shut it again, as he did more often than not. He made to turn away, but decided against it at the last moment. “It's a good thing you never listen to anyone.”

  It was just the sort of compliment Grim would give, as it sounded nothing like one. It made Disa smile broadly. “Thank you,” she returned, and stepped through the door.

  Finn was glad he wasn't expected to speak.

  He had found himself growing restless waiting for Disa to arrive, his discomfort compounded by the heat. I'm beholden to no one but Rurik, he said to himself. It was an excuse to be sure, but Finn cared little. It was the only reason he needed to ignore Roe’s earlier request to deliver his sister personally and instead go down there himself.

  It was short rebellion. He was only a few steps out the door before he was face to face with them both. He glanced at Disa and had to look away almost immediately.

  She was…

  Last night she'd looked an innocent bride meeting her husband, but tonight, she looked as if she could have the world at her feet with a kiss. He shook away the thought. He'd said something and Roe had answered somewhat flippantly, but Finn was too focused on keeping his eyes forward to care. Roe stepped by him and Finn cursed the Gods silently for his lack of will as he looked at Disa again.

  She was still there, though he wouldn't have been surprised to find she was a vision, a figment of his own exhausted mind. He nearly told her so before gathering up his wits. Take her to Rurik, he commanded himself.

  But then she shrugged self-consciously and he couldn't resist. “It's a good thing you never listen to anyone,” he said. He was unsure at first if this was the right thing to say, unsure if it was clear while still keeping any personal and therefore irrelevant feelings he may have out of the situation, but she returned with a smile so big he had to lo
ok at her forehead instead of meeting her eyes to calm the sudden upsurge of he didn't know what.

  Now, he stood behind her and his brother, thankful for his expected silence because he didn't think he would be able to keep his opinion to himself. Rurik had greeted her just as Finn expected. He stood, seemingly unable to speak, and when everyone had turned to see what he was looking at, he had climbed onto his chair, stepped atop the table, and jumped to the ground, approaching Disa in wonder. “You're more striking every time I see you.” He had taken first one hand then the other and kissed them both. It had the desired result. The room was buzzing with the envious and the charmed, a mixture of wanting Disa and wanting to be her. He never took his eyes off hers as he led her around the table to sit beside him.

  It was annoying.

  Annoying not just because she was now being bombarded with introductions left and right, the proximity of so many people making his hand long for his sword, but also for the way his greeting had colored her cheeks, mostly from embarrassment at the sudden attention, but maybe with a little pleasure, too. For the first time, though, it seemed to Finn that his brother’s charm rang false, and he couldn't help but wonder if Rurik might have been trying a little too hard. Hell, maybe he was just happy to find her in a dress as he’d clumsily suggested earlier. Finn supposed he should be grateful his brother hadn't swept her up in his arms and carried her back over the table instead of around it.

  Eventually the room had settled, and people found their seats, or else were forced back outside when it was clear there wasn't going to be enough room. Finn sat beside Disa, against his better judgment.

  I can't wait for this night to end.

  I hope this night doesn't end! Disa thought to herself as she sipped more of the sweet wine someone named something or other had brought to congratulate Rurik and her for their upcoming wedding. Everything seemed wonderful. She had never tasted food so good, never laughed so hard, never felt so confident. Everyone was pleased to meet her, and the more wine she drank, the more pleased she was to meet them too. Rurik kept whispering nonsense in her ear, gossip or somewhat scandalous observations of the room at large, and Disa thought she might have giggled more than once. Not very Disa-like. She giggled again.

  “Is your cup terribly amusing?” Finn asked. It was the first time he'd spoken all evening and Disa thought it was probably because he kept refusing offers of ale.

  “You should drink this,” she said, sliding her cup towards him. She was quite sure it was the best idea she'd had all night. He smiled at her and she smiled back easily. She was about to tell him he should smile all the time when he said something quite shocking.

  “No, thank you.”

  “No?” she asked, her horror evident. “But it's so good,” she whispered.

  “I'm sure it's wonderful,” he replied, his head tilting close to hers conspiratorially. “But someone is bound to challenge me to a wrestling match before this night is over, and I might not be able to say no if I've had even a little bit of ale.”

  “I'm sure you would win,” she mused with her chin in her hand.

  As if a sign from the Gods themselves, there was a roar from outside and the unmistakable sound of fists on flesh. The room quieted abruptly, followed by a general cheer as everyone stood, scraping their benches across the floor in a rush to get outside. “What's happening?” Disa asked.

  “The games, my love!” Rurik cried, holding his hand out for her to join him.

  “Oh!” She drained her glass in a swallow. “Woooo!” she joined the others in their shouts.

  Rurik grabbed the bottle and looked at her with mock disapproval. “We can't just leave this here, it could get lonely.”

  Disa threw her head back and laughed, cheering once again. Rurik pulled her outside into the blissful cool of the night, and in a brief flash of clarity, Disa felt like she was missing something, but then she saw Grim head-butt a giant of a man and was gasping along with the churning crowd of observers, and the moment passed.

  Finn stood at the doorway in the wake of the exiting crowd, the shouts of ‘my love,’ and the stench of overly sweet wine polluting the air. Grim was making swift work of his opponent who was no doubt drunk and would be questioning the wisdom of challenging such a man come the morning. Finn was only telling a half-truth when he said he was worried he would be compelled by drink to accept any challenge offered. He was still spoiling for a fight, and he could deny or ignore it as much as he wanted, but he knew the reason. Finn closed his eyes and longed for the oblivion of sleep.

  If he hadn't been dreaming of his bed maybe he would have heard the warrior’s approach. His eyes flew open as an arm wrapped around his throat from behind, yanking him out of the doorway and into the room. Before he could plant his feet and crush his assailant against the wall, there was a swift kick to the back of his knees. Finn grunted as he hit the ground, and the pressure on his neck eased. He took a gasping breath before he rammed his elbow into the stomach of the stranger behind him, taking pleasure in the man’s low curse. His enjoyment didn't last. The man tightened his grip again, dragging him another few steps before shoving his back flat against the floor and leaping on top of him, his knees pinning Finn's arms to the ground.

  Finn stopped struggling, more from surprise than the tip of Disa’s sword at his throat. “Roe?” he asked hoarsely. “What are you doing?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  Finn’s mind jumped wildly to the thought Roe had somehow guessed at what he saw when he closed his eyes. He quickly shook away the notion. “What the hell are you doing?” He was more forceful now as he resumed the struggle to free himself. If he could just turn his hand a little more, he might be able to pull his dagger free.

  “Are you plotting to massacre the Jarls here?”

  “What!?”

  “There are whispers of weapons stockpiled in the woods. You cut through the woods frequently, correct?”

  “What weapons?”

  “Agnar and Ragnar have been seen at meetings in the dead of night. Was your brother among them?”

  “What? No!”

  “Were you among them?”

  “NO!”

  “Why am I told there are weapons just steps from this hall?”

  “Roe, what are you talking about?”

  Roe stared at him, his wide eyes murderous and, Finn thought, a little panicked, too. “Swear it. Swear to the Gods you have no hand in this.”

  “I swear it.”

  “Swear it again,” he demanded, his free fist gripping Finn’s tunic and shaking him hard, the point of the sword stinging against his neck with the movement.

  With a huge effort, Finn relaxed completely, unclenching his muscles and lying still. “I swear it,” he repeated with more calm than he felt, never taking his eyes off Roe, willing the man to believe him.

  Roe stared at him at him searchingly. At last he dropped the blade to the floor with a clatter, sliding sideways off of Finn. “Sorry,” he said, the conviction he'd had moments before bleeding away. “She said you wouldn't be involved but I had to be sure.”

  Finn sat up slowly, not wanting to spook the man. “Start from the beginning.”

  Roe glanced up at him warily. “Someone got word to me there was to be an attack.”

  “Who?”

  “Someone I trust,” he glowered.

  Finn waited quietly, but it was clear Roe wasn't going to offer more information on the man’s identity. “What sort of attack?”

  “They aren't sure.”

  “Who is being attacked?”

  “They aren't sure.”

  “I need to tell my brother,” Finn said as he stood.

  “Wait,” Roe asked. “Right now you and Grim are the only men I trust.”

  “You can trust my brother.” Roe seemed doubtful. “Look, I know he seems questionable at times. He keeps company he shouldn't and he has no trouble using that silver tongue to his advantage, but my brother is no fighter. That's why he has m
e. If he was to plot a massacre, he'd need me to command it.”

  “That was what I thought but…”

  “But what?”

  “I was told there was another that stood with the brothers.”

  “Even if that's true, it wouldn't be Rurik. The brothers have money and influence but no true power. Their people would never elect either of them. If they want something, they seize it.”

  Roe nodded reluctantly. “You're right.”

  They both moved to the door and looked out at the crowd, their eyes finding Agnar and Ragnar quickly, each seated close to the fight in progress. Agnar was nodding off, his bottle of wine between his knees, and Ragnar was drumming his fingers on the bench, looking as bored as ever. “Whatever is happening, I don't think it will be tonight,” Roe said.

  “I agree. Much wiser to wait until the closing feasts when the men are drunk on their success and their mead,” he added.

  “There are only a handful of days left before we all leave.”

  “We’ll figure this out long before then.”

  “You'll watch over my sister.” Roe had meant it as a question but it came out as a command.

  “Yes,” Finn answered readily.

  Grim had his opponent in a headlock. He looked up and spotted the two of them standing together in the doorway. Roe shook his head. Grim brought his knee up hard into the poor man’s face, breaking his nose and knocking him unconscious. A cheer went up as Grim wiped the sweat and blood from his face. A reedy youth ran forward, ready to challenge him to another bout but Grim sent him tumbling back with a glare. “Does someone want to see to this poor bastard before he drowns in his own blood?” he yelled over the noise of the crowd, gesturing to his bested opponent as he sauntered towards the hall. “Took you long enough,” he growled.

  “You look like you did fine,” Roe said as Grim swiped at the blood flowing from a cut over one eye and winced.

  Grim frowned. “I take it pretty boy had all the right answers?”

  “He doesn't know anything. And it doesn't seem like whatever they've planned is happening tonight.”