Viking Read Free Page B

not return. ’Tis an abomination to think that a Viking berserker will steal my heart. Besides, whywould a Norseman come to our shore specifically to kill me?”
    “The answer is unclear, but you will know soon. If you survive the day, you will travel to a far-off land and face grave danger.”
    Fiona knew better than to dismiss Brann’s prophesy out of hand. She had cut her teeth on his teachings and trusted him implicitly. But this … this implausible prediction simply could not be true. She thought back to her encounter with the fierce Viking warrior that moonlit night a year ago and remembered the feel of his hands on her naked flesh. There wasn’t a soft place on his hard body or a tender spot in his cruel heart. He had wanted to ravish her, and probably would have killed her afterward if she hadn’t used her wits to escape.
    Though she’d never admit it, not even to herself, she thought of the Viking far too often for her liking. She remembered him as a golden giant, with strong features. He was fierce and strong and could have been called handsome if his face weren’t set in ruthless lines. Sometimes he tormented her dreams, but in those dreams he wanted to do things to her that had nothing to do with her death.
    “What are you thinking?” Brann asked.
    Fiona flushed. Could the wizard see into her mind? She prayed not. “How much time do I have before your prophesy becomes reality?”
    Brann gave her a sad smile. “The day is at hand.”
    Fiona started violently. “Vikings are here? On our shore? Now?” Why hadn’t she sensed this?
    “At the village gates this very minute.”
    “Lord protect us! What am I to do? I must return immediately.”
    Brann nodded his shaggy white head. “Aye. We must make haste to the village. It may already be too late.”
    Fiona didn’t stop to ask what Brann meant as she made a hasty exit and sped along the path to the village. Brann was hard on her heels, moving surprisingly fast for one so old.
    “Hurry, Brann,” she called over her shoulder. “I can sense them now and feel their anger reaching out to me. You are right. They want to kill me.”
    Thorne had surprised the villagers at their morning chores. A dirt wall topped by a stockade of pointed logs surrounded the village, but the gate had stood open. Few villagers had had time to arm themselves, and those who did were quickly cut down by the fierce marauders. After a short battle the peasants had laid down their crude weapons and surrendered to the raiders. Few pleaded for their lives, for most expected to die. By the time Ulm, fresh from his raid upon the monastery, rejoined Thorne, there was naught left to do but plunder, rape and fire the huts.
    Thorne had no appetite for rape but he could not deny his men their pleasure. He watched with distaste as a man dragged a hapless maiden behind a hut. He shut out her screams as the remaining villagers were prodded at sword-point to the village green. Thorne was on a witch hunt. He wouldn’trest until he found and destroyed the woman who had cast a spell upon him.
    “Who is your chieftain?” Thorne barked.
    A slight man of middle age stepped forward. “I am Adair.”
    “You are the chieftain?”
    “Aye. Kill me, Viking, but spare my people.”
    “No one will die if you give me what I seek.”
    Adair made a helpless gesture. “You have already stolen all that we own.”
    Thorne dismissed Adair’s words with a wave of his hand. “I seek a woman. I know not her name, but she is a witch. She has hair as black as a raven’s wing, eyes a stunning violet, and the body of an enchantress.”
    Thorne was surprised by the collective gasp that rose from the crowd.
    Adair stared at him, apparently appalled. “There is no witch in our village.”
    Thorne’s eyes narrowed as he waved Blood-drinker in the air. “You lie! I want her. Bring her to me.”
    “Why? What do you want with her?”
    “The witch has placed a spell upon me.” He waved his sword in the air.