Her Viking Saviour (Lore & Love Trilogy #1)

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Torben’s cousin, Leif, was dumbstruck as he stood at the opening of one of their tents near the docks. His mouth hung open in horror as he looked at the ramshackle company Torben had returned with. Torben did not blame him for his shock at the sight of the pale, barefooted, half-starved beings that stood before them, shivering in their thin shifts. One glared furiously at Leif, the same one who had created the situation, noted Torben. Wynflaed, she had softly told him when he asked for her name. Torben found himself fascinated with her innocent ferocity. One moment cornered and afraid and a split second later hissing and in a rage. Like a wild, trapped animal , he thought, with no insult intended, for he found her a beautiful and intriguing woman.

Her amber eyes flashed, the colour deep and rich. He wanted to peer deeper into them and see what other flecks of colour he would find. He imagined strands of gold shot through those soulful irises. Her fair skin only enhanced their beauty, and he could picture a rosy glow to her cheeks if she was at her full health. Her unevenly shorn hair fell just above her shoulder. The raven curls bounced becomingly with every movement, as they highlighted her high cheekbones and full lips, reddened with cold. Her beauty stirred a passion he had not felt for a very long time, and he stiffened in his trousers. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself.

Get it together you fool! Look at all she has been through , he chastised himself and tried to focus on Leif’s rant. He cursed his lack of self-control. He was better than this, he had never fallen powerless to his base desires.

“…we travel here to trade and gain wealth, not buy thralls to feed and clothe and do what? You do not allow thralls back home. What are they to do?”

Before Torben could answer Leif, who had been speaking in brokenly in her native tongue, not even trying to hide his frustration, the beauty, her eyes narrowed with dislike, interjected angrily.

“We can do many things. You should not judge us by our appearance at this moment. We were abducted from our homeland and treated poorly, like animals!”

Torben bit his lip to keep from laughing at Leif’s shocked expression. His head turned from Wynflaed to Torben, mouth agape, no doubt at the audacity of this stranger’s reprimand and Torben’s acceptance of it.

Leif and his elder brother Sven were not only his cousins, but also his closest friends and advisors, and Torben gave them much responsibility in Klavik. He respected their right to speak their minds. Leif was closer to Torben’s younger brother Ragnav in age, but while Ragnav was quick to joke and smile, Leif was serious with a witty sharp tongue. Whatever their differences, the two were so close people joked they had been born of the same womb. Leif’s natural skill in trade had helped them prosper greatly over the years. Torben found it a fair exchange to deal with his tirades from time to time. As a bonus, they generally amused him.

“What has made Leif so upset? He looks like a fish out of water with his mouth hanging open like that,” Ragnav enquired with a wide grin as he returned from Torben’s errand, waving his hand up and down in front of Leif's face.

“Leif has had the pleasure of meeting Wynflaed,” Torben said with a smile and caught Wynflaed’s eye. She blushed pink but held his stare in defiance. Only a fool would try to dampen her fire, he mused with a growing fondness he could see his younger brother shared.

“Ahh. Say no more,” Ragnav choked out in between his guffaws.

“Did you find out any useful information?” Torben queried, as he gestured to Leif and Ragnav to step away with him.

“I did. There are two vessels sailing to the coast of Northumbria, a Danish trader and a pair of men from Irland. They all seem questionable, and I doubt they are men of their word,” Ragnav informed them. His younger brother had good instincts. If he doubted their honour, they were not good men.

It was better that they accompany him home, but he wanted them to have free will. He needed to explain the options and their risks and allow them to choose, or he would be no better than Guthred. He could not help but hope that Wynflaed would choose to stay with him. He sensed her path was tied with his, he just needed time to explore it at his own pace. But he did not want to influence her free will, as that went against what he believed in. Her spirit intrigued him, and she was a contradiction in all ways. She was hard and soft. Innocent and worldly. Stalling would prove to be no reprieve, so Torben summoned his resolve and walked over to Wynflaed and the others. He took in their wide-eyed gazes. They were cold and hungry, and he needed to remedy that. Their wellbeing was now his responsibility.

“It is clear to all that you have suffered greatly. I am a man of my word. I do not keep thralls in my home or on my lands. Everyone earns their keep but the choice whether to cook, fight, mend, or heal is theirs. I bought you your freedom and I will not take this choice away from you now.”

He paused as his eyes locked with Wynflaed’s. She watched him intently as she took in every word. Holding her gaze, he continued.

“You have three options. No matter which option you choose, I will give you clothing, food, and some coin,” he said, ignoring Leif’s groan of protest. “You can stay here in Kyivan Rus and start a new life. I only pass through these lands for trade and know few details of them to share with you. Your second choice is one of two ships travelling to Northumbria. I do not know these captains and I cannot guarantee your safety. Your third option is to return with me to Klavik, where I am Chieftain and start anew as free people.”

His gaze travelled across the group as he spoke, but when he explained the last option, his eyes found Wynflaed’s again and he searched them for a reaction when he mentioned Klavik. Her face was inscrutable. All he saw was her brow furrowed in concentration as she considered her choices. A nervous weight settled in the pit of his stomach as he waited for her answer. He wanted to unravel who Wynflaed was down to her core. What made her smile, what made her weep. Never had a woman intrigued him this way. He heard the croak of a raven and looked up to see one perched on a wooden post by the dock. It was a sign that he was right in feeling this way. And Odin approved. But would Wynflaed? He wished he could have a small glimpse into her mind and all the beautiful chaos he pictured there.

Stay with me, Wynflaed .