Anna Markland - Viking Roots Medieval Romance Saga 01 by The Rover Bold Read Free Book Online

raiding party consisting of a handful of youths and a few wild horses.
    For reassurance he looked to the sky and mumbled. “Lend us your aid, mighty Thor, god of war.”
    “Thor,” Cath-ryn whispered into his back, followed by something that sounded like her own name.
    ~~~
    As the water lapped around the horse’s legs, Cathryn repeated her prayer for deliverance to her namesake saint over and over like a litany. But they’d traveled only a few yards on the opposite bank when she saw her entreaties to Saint Catherine had been for naught. She chided herself. It had been naive to assume the alarm wouldn’t have been raised.
    Panicked voices reached her ears and in the pre-dawn darkness the abbey was lit by the glow of torches. Bryk dismounted and lifted her down. Despite the rapid beating of her heart, the strength of his big hands calmed her roiling belly.
    He motioned to the men to remain with the horses, then took her hand and crept forward. At the edge of the trees they stopped and crouched down.
    Mater Bruna will be livid that I’ve soiled my habit!
    She almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of her thoughts. It was unlikely she’d live long enough to see the mean-spirited Superior again. At least the last hours of her existence would be filled with life.
    Her brawny Viking had made her feel more alive than ever before.
    The crowd was boisterous, peasants mostly and a few monks. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out faces. She recognized the tall man calmly issuing orders to the monks. “Father Abbot,” she whispered, turning to Bryk. “Please don’t kill him.”
    He nodded. “ Fader. ”
    Had he understood?
    Then she spied Javune carrying a torch and murmured his name.
    Bryk chuckled, making the shape of a woman with his hands and kissing sounds with his lips. She knew then he’d seen the young monk with Kaia.
    She was about to return his smile when her attacker strode into view, gesturing wildly and shouting loudly. Bile rose in her throat and for the first time in her life she felt hatred for another person. “Sprig,” she said hoarsely, gripping the handle of the dagger.
    Bryk shifted his weight, his teeth gritted. “Spreeg,” he spat, brandishing his axe. “I kill.”
    Much as she might want the monk punished, she couldn’t condone murder. “No,” she whispered, pushing down his raised arm. “God will punish.”
    He looked at her strangely, his eyes wide. She might drown in those dark brown depths. She recognised now what Kaia had seen in Javune’s eyes.
    But no! Kaia had seen love. She wasn’t sure what she saw in Bryk’s eyes, and this was not the time to be thinking such thoughts.
    There was no sign of her friend nor of Ekaterina. The elderly nun must be terrified. There’d be scant air for Kaia to breathe if both women were closeted in the tiny cell.
    The peasants had armed themselves with pitchforks and sickles.
    As the first grey steaks of dawn lit the sky, Bryk put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay,” he ordered, and then crept back to his men.
    Close to panic at being left alone, she was startled by loud shouts behind her. Moments later she curled into a ball and covered her ears as wild horses stampeded past in the direction of the abbey.
    ~~~
    Among the many things Bryk had learned during his years as a plundering marauder, probably the most important was the effective use of surprise.
    If a raider didn’t hold the advantage, he had to be bold and make his enemy believe he did. He’d hoped that if they made enough noise and panicked the wild horses, the armed mob might assume a Viking horde was attacking when the beasts arrived in their midst.
    He knew from experience there was nothing like horses running amok to make grown men wet themselves.
    As he had foreseen, the villagers dispersed rapidly when the frenzied animals galloped out of the trees. Most dropped their tools as they fled. One or two waved their arms in an effort to turn the beasts, but quickly abandoned the idea