Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection by Donna Fletcher Read Free Book Online Page B

giving her a yank as he
did.
    She collided with his hard chest and her head
snapped back. And once again pain rippled through her jaw.
    “Tyr.”
    Her mouth dropped open in complete shock.
    “I see you have heard of me. Now do you
really want your husband to do battle with me?”
    Honora shook her head.
    “Then give me what I want and I will let you
go. There will be no need for your husband to die.”
    He gave her a slight shove to start walking
and once again they were traveling at a good pace.
    Honora felt as if her breath had lodged in
her throat and when finally she freed it with a cough, she knew
that she would do anything so that her husband would not battle the
mighty Tyr.
    He was a legendary warrior. Some of the Norse
people believed him a god. Anyone who entered battle with him died,
not one survived. And it wasn’t that he was a ruthless warrior, he
was a warrior skilled beyond the ordinary and that was why many
believed the tales. He simply could not be killed—he could not
die.
    Honora kept the hectic pace Tyr set and told
herself over and over and over that she must do whatever he asked.
She had to. It was the only way to save her husband’s life.
    ~~~
    Cavan wished they didn’t have to stop so
often. He feared the more they did they more distance his enemy
gained. But Ronan knew what he was doing and Cavan bowed to his
skills.
    “Is something wrong?” Cavan asked realizing
Ronan was taking longer than usual in examining the tracks.
    Ronan rose slowly.
    Cavan knew something was wrong and said,
“Tell me.”
    “There was a scuffle here.”
    “And?” Cavan asked when Ronan didn’t
continue.
    “From the marks on the ground I’d say someone
went done and it wasn’t the Norseman.”
    “I’m going to kill him,” Cavan said through
gritted teeth.
    “Your chance should come soon.” Ronan
hesitated to continue, but did. “The earth is still warm. They
lingered here probably longer than they should have.”
    Cavan’s nostrils flared and his jaw
tightened. “That could only mean one thing, Honora was—” He
couldn’t’ finish. He could not say aloud that his wife suffered a
blow that had left her unconscious.
    “We should alert the men and be on our way,”
Ronan said.
    “He’s mine,” Cavan said, his hands fisted so
tight at his sides that his knuckles turned pure white. “No one but
me is to touch him.”
    “The warriors know that.”
    “Good, then let’s go,” Cavan said. “I miss my
wife.”
    No longer did Cavan think of their slow
progress. His only thought was revenge—and he would have it—blood
would run this day.
    ~~~
    Honora’s eyes turned wide when she saw the
make-shift shelter. There was a hole at the top where the campfire
smoke could escape and a crude piece of animal hide hung in front
serving as a door.
    He shoved her forward, as if anxious and she
knew the time had come. She hoped Cavan would understand. She hoped
she had enough courage to do what she must. She hoped it all would
be over soon and she could go home. But most of all she wished this
was not happening that she was home with her family celebrating the
holiday and Addie’s wedding.
    Tyr gave her another shove.
    She stumbled and he steadied her, and she
couldn’t help but ask again, “What do you want of me?”
    “A babe,” he said and shoved her into the
shelter.
    ~~~
    Cavan followed close behind Ronan. The snow
was falling in earnest and soon it would be too deep to find any
tracks. They were close, Cavan could feel it. They couldn’t lose
the tracks now; they couldn’t. He had to get to his wife. She was
waiting for him.
    Ronan stopped, raising his hand in warning
for others to do the same.
    Cavan stilled. He knew this was it. A few
more feet perhaps and...
    The bloodcurdling scream ripped through the
cold air, shivering most of the men.
    Not Cavan.
    He dropped his horse’s reins and lunged
forward in a dead run, Ronan following quickly behind him. The
warriors took hold of the two horses and