Her Viking Saviour (Lore & Love Trilogy #1)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Wynflaed shivered, not from cold but from trepidation, as the adrenaline slowly left her body after her brash actions. She had never acted on an instinct so strong as the one she felt to defend Hilde. Poor Hilde had tripped and fallen, and when she had tried to stand up, the brute Haakan had kicked her hard in the abdomen. Wynflaed was sure he had caused a serious injury and the idea of Hilde suffering after trying to protect her was unbearable. The consequences of her challenge did not register until the sharp blade stared her in the face. She must have seemed addled to the crowd as she looked to and fro between Haakan and this new Viking. Torben the Hel-Bringer. She knew Hel was associated with the heathen afterlife, so she could only assume this man brought about death.

What she did not understand was the interest he had in saving her life.

He was taller than any man here, fair-haired with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Even with the distance between them, she could see the colour as vibrantly as if she stood next to him. When he turned towards the man that had named him, she thought she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. Otherwise, he showed no emotion. He was a true stoic and she welcomed his interruption, whatever his motivation.

“Guthred. It has been an age since we saw each other,” he replied calmly. His voice was deep and melodic, sending a tingle down her spine.

“Indeed, it has been, my old friend. And young Ragnav, look how you have grown! Almost as tall as Torben.” Guthred continued like they were old friends meeting in a more pleasant circumstance than this violent spectacle.

Ragnav smiled and nodded his head but stayed by Torben’s side in a defensive stance. Wynflaed spied his hand resting near the hilt of a sword. Guthred grinned, apparently enjoying the tension.

“Come now, Torben. Tell me what is wrong so we can continue with our day.”

“People from all over come here for trade, not for bloodshed. Why is your man treating a woman so?” he replied in an even tone.

Wynflaed felt a rush of gratitude for the handsome stranger coming to her defence and gave Torben a small smile. She saw his eyes crinkle slightly as if he wanted to smile in return and felt an odd flutter in her stomach.

“She attacked me,” Haakan growled in protest. Wynflaed scowled back, her nice moment with Torben forgotten. The brute refused to see his behaviour, again treating her and her fellow captives like animals and not people.

“See, Guthred, she still tries to smite me!” he whined.

“Your men have no discipline,” Torben observed, his eyes now on Guthred as his lips curled in disdain at the insolence.

“What do you care for a thrall, Torben?” asked Guthred, raising one eyebrow. “Ah, but I had forgotten you do not approve of slavery. Torben Hel-Bringer, killer of any who crossed his path, chose absolution by turning into a champion for the people.”

Guthred’s men laughed uncertainly, knowing their leader had made a joke but not understanding what it had meant.

“No, I do not care for humans being enslaved. You have seven what are they, Saxons? No doubt wrested violently from their homes, and for what? Coin? They are living, breathing humans, just like you and I.”

Wynflaed heard the passion in his voice and silently cheered his words. However, Guthred remained unmoved.

Guthred shrugged. “It is the way of the world, old friend.”

Every time Guthred said friend, he smothered it in a silky tone that dripped with bitterness. Wynflaed could taste it in her mouth. Though Torben’s words had set her hopes to soar. Was he challenging Guthred with a goal to rescue her?

As she looked back at him, Wynflaed sensed Torben was losing patience as his eyes narrowed. That was all he allowed, as he was so controlled. He was skilled in making his point known in a disciplined way. His manner helped her feel anchored while her emotions spun out of control. Something about this drew her to him and piqued her curiosity. She heard Hilde groan as she tried to stand up and she quickly grabbed the woman to steady her, relieved she had found the strength to rise. Turning to Guthred, she intended to explain herself without any further hostility. Between that and Torben’s intervention, she hoped he might see reason.

“My Lord, Guthred,” she started, causing his men to laugh and his grin to widen. “Your man kicked poor Hilde after she had fallen. There was truly no cause for it.”

“And what of you, little flower?” he said as he eyed her speculatively. “You shine brightly from your wash. Now, tell me what you did to cause such fury in Haakan.”

She cringed at his scrutiny and him calling her a little flower as she tried her best for nonchalance.

“I was defending a friend.” She was unable to stop the stubborn jut of her chin.

His men laughed again, as did he.

“I will need to sell you with a warning, I think. You come with a lot of fire,” Guthred told her.

Wynflaed’s stomach sank as the realisation of her situation struck again. She looked to Torben and she started when their eyes met. He was already staring at her. Pleading with her eyes, she silently begged him to do something. Why this stranger would help her she did not know, but she willed it with every fibre of her being.

“I will buy her,” he spoke, turning back to Guthred. He said the word buy with distaste. What did he mean when he said buy ? Buy her freedom or buy her life?

“What is this I hear? Torben the Hel-Bringer is to take a thrall?”

Torben did not reply, but his eyes narrowed dangerously at the insult. It gave her confidence he was buying her freedom.

Not knowing what might happen, she yelled, “And Hilde, too, please.” She couldn't leave Hilde alone with these brutes.

Torben nodded, his eyes still on Guthred. As her saviour, Torben the Hel-Bringer, seemed agreeable, she made one last request. “And the remainder of my five companions. Please.”

She felt the tension of the crowd as they all waited with bated breath for his response. Her plea for the freedom of herself and her fellow captives was entertainment to these people.

This time Torben’s head did turn to her, his fair brows raised, but he smiled at her boldness. She blushed at this contact and the striking way the smile enhanced the beauty of his face.It was very unexpected, for before today, the last thing she could have imagined thinking was a Viking man having any beauty.

“I will take them all, Guthred. Ragnav will provide you with the coin.”

Guthred had kept silent and now looked speculatively at Torben. Finally, he threw his hands up in the air.

“Sold. They are all yours. My friend .”

This time, Wynflaed heard only a hard bitterness and a shiver ran up and down her spine. Guthred truly had a black soul. She glanced back at Haakan, who still stared at her with an evil glare, and she used all her willpower to not glare back. Be the bigger person, Wynflaed , she chanted in her head as she gestured for her fellow countrymen to follow her. But she was gleeful. And hopeful. She was also a little fretful as she saw Torben waiting for them in the dispersing crowd. Wynflaed heard a croak and looked upwards to the sky for the source. A black raven circled overhead and when she made eye contact, it held her gaze intently.

Was this an omen? Had she delivered them from one barbarian to another?