INGRID
I kept her in my line of sight, observing as she continued to rebuke Fjornâs advances. Interesting. Vikings couldnât care less about Saxons; they were a means to an end for us. Saxons, on the other hand, hated Vikings with a passion. Yet there she was, her jealousy loud and clear.
Although never laying eyes on her again would have been much more satisfying than what actually happened, watching her land in the dirt ass-first ~was~ gratifying. I smirked as I replayed the scene over and over in my mind.
At first, when Fjorn had taken her from the village, I didnât think much of it. Many men take women from the villages we raid. Usually they are used as thralls in the field and for other things when the sun goes down. No skin off my back.
But when I learned he wanted to keep her, to make his frue⦠No, not happening.
Fjorn placed his hand on the Saxonâs shoulder, and she shrugged it off. What made it even funnier was the sheer confusion that could be seen in his eyes. He had no idea why she was treating him like that. After what sounded like a particularly enjoyable time in his tent, the sudden change must have been a shock to him.
I wasnât in love with Fjorn. His brother, Thorsten, was the one who meant more to me than anything. When he was killedâ¦life stopped for me. The sun no longer shined. He fought valiantly, and I knew he rested with Odin in Valhalla. But that didnât help meâthe one left behind.
My mind drifted to the day Thorsten was made the new jarl. When Sigurd, the jarl of another clan, betrayed his people by trading with Saxon scum, OrmâThorstenâs fatherâchallenged him to holmganga, a formal duel to the death used to settle disputes. Orm won.
Instead of combining the clans and becoming even more powerful, which was well within his rights, he left the old clan with Thorsten. As the eldest son, it was common knowledge he would eventually inherit it anyway.
Those were good days. It all changed when Fjornâ
Closing my eyes, I shook my head. There was no reason to think of that ~again~. I leveled my gaze at the couple ahead of me once more. Right now, my main priority was getting rid of the Saxon bitch. Fjorn should have asked ~me~ to be frue. He ~owed~ me that much.
I picked up a rock and flung it with all my might, the sound of its soft ~swack~ as it landed in the distance reaching my ears. The noise probably would have frightened the Saxon if she hadnât been so preoccupied with Fjorn. Throwing my head back in frustration, I growled, causing Brenn, a fellow warrior not far from me, to raise her eyes.
âDo you want to talk about it?â she asked, her voice bored. Brenn and I may have fought side by side, but we werenât particularly close. Chances were she would have disagreed with what I had done and would have immediately told Fjorn. It was best she knew nothing, so I shook my head.
Everything was set up perfectly for it to have worked! She was taken, just as planned. Delivered to the abandoned manor, as planned. Had she only knocked on the doorâlike the fucking plan!
Varg, loyal to me, was waiting for her. He had hit her in the head back at the village, planning on using her as he liked, but when she fell, he had lost sight of her in the smoke and chaos. He had looked for her after the fight, but Fjorn had found her first.
Given his strong dislike for Fjorn, that didnât sit right with him, so when I told Varg he could do whatever he wanted with the blondeâI knew Vargâs preference leaned toward darker, more depraved, and demanding desiresâas long as she ended up dead, he was eager to do my bidding.
And the Saxon patrol wasnât hard to convince to go after a âfew Viking scouts in the forest,â especially when a damsel in distressâmeâwas the one who told them. Show a little skin and most men are fools.
I knew my brethren would be fine. A few scrapes, a couple of broken bones⦠Okay, and an arrow in the arm as far as Fjorn was concerned, but Iâd hoped Kendra ~wouldnât~ be. Had she even gone closer to the house, Varg would have been able to grab her. Not wanting to be seen, though, heâd stayed away from the tree line in case Fjorn sent one of our men after her.
Which he did, of course.
~What is it you want me to do, Thorsten?~ I asked silently as I narrowed my focus on Fjorn and his bitch once more. Nothing, so far, had worked.
With a deep breath, I lowered my eyes, trying hard not to feel sorry for myself. As I walked, various ideas began to take shape in my mind. I knew I could count on Varg. Heâd been rock-hard ever since I told him he could have his way with the Saxon as long as he took her out of the picture. And there were other people I could talk to as well.