recalled the
survivor’s tales of what had been done at Lockwraithe. He was
somewhat cheered to hear his sister killed two of Joran’s men
before being taken. He smiled grimly as he listened to the
tales.
Joran the Stonehearted would learn very
quickly Lady Allisande of Lockwraithe was no meek gentlewoman.
He winced to recall her fiery temper. His
chest bore scars from the years they trained at swords together as
children. He had to search long and far for a noble willing to take
his unruly sister to wife.
With only a modest dowry, her beauty alone
had been her only positive asset discussed at court. The other
nobles smirked while he was at court trying to find her a husband
as they recalled the prickly maid carrying a sword upon her hip
like a man.
Fitzhugh rushed in at the last and claimed he
and his sister were verbally precontracted through Harold. Collin
argued it. He was dismayed, knowing how Allisande despised Robert
Fitzhugh.
He came home early to speak with his father
about the betrothal Robert claimed. The king approved the match at
Robert’s word alone, much to his displeasure. He anticipated a
battle upon his return with his younger sister, not to find his
home decimated.
Collin gazed over the destruction as
makeshift shelters were assembled by the last of his men. He was
the new Baron Lockwraithe. He stomped into his crude shelter that
was now his fortress and contemplated all their futures grimly.
He had to see to the needs of his people
first. He would have to return to court and beg the money necessary
to have Allisande returned. Without Fitzhugh’s financial help, he
wouldn’t be able to raise a stone to rebuild Lockwraithe.
Allisande’s marriage to the Earl of Ulsted
was the only way to repair all. He debated keeping the news of the
raid quiet as long as possible to buy time to reclaim his sister.
Despite her aversion to Lord Ulsted, they had few choices left to
them.
****
Joran arrived at the longhouse of Ivar
Ragnorsson as soon as his ship docked in Oslo. He was immediately
summoned to the high table to recount his raid on Lockwraithe.
Ivar was a large man; brutish in both size
and strength. His regal tunic was embroidered in gold threads.
Medallions and wristbands of gold and silver adorned him. Scars
covered a handsome face obscured by a thick, golden beard.
Ivar’s pale eyes flickered with pride as
Joran spoke of how Lockwraithe had been dealt with. His eyes
gleamed to know his enemy was now dead. Ivar was disappointed that
Harold was killed, but was satisfied there had been little choice
in it. Ivar was fairly bristling with enjoyment to learn Osgood had
been felled by Joran’s own sword.
Ivar’s face was wreathed in a smile of
pleasure and he praised Joran over cups of mead. His eyes narrowed
when he learned Joran had Osgood’s daughter with him. “You seek a
ransom for Osgood’s daughter? That is very good,” Ivar said in a
pleased tone as a female serf refilled their cups.
“ The baron’s son will beggar himself to
have his sister returned to him. I think it just.”
“ You’ve done well, Joran,” Ivar
commended him with a look of pride. “Luxtley and Ulsted will scurry
like rats when they learn of it.”
“ One dead, only two remain,” Joran
agreed and his blue eyes narrowed. “Have you a plan for Luxtley
yet?”
“ Have no fear, Baron Luxtley will feel
my wrath, my son, as will Lord Ulsted,” Ivar assured him. “Halfdon
and Ubbe assemble their armies near York. They are angered to have
missed out on this.”
Joran grinned as he thought of his two
constantly-sparring uncles and how they would have argued non-stop
had they been in on the raid. The pair warred more among themselves
than their enemies. “I look forward to a time of rest, as do the
men.” Joran’s eyes fell upon his men seated not far away at a
table. “Luxtley will be more difficult to take than Lockwraithe
because it is farther inland. I expect they are now forewarned we
come.”
Ivar
Learning to Kill: Stories