Page 109 of Viking in Love

The guardsman said, “They are too far away yet. But they do carry a black flag with what looks like blood dripping from a stone.”

“Uh-oh!” three Viking princesses said as one.

As everyone rushed to get out of the door and up to the ramparts, Caedmon turned slowly to look at her. He lifted one eyebrow in question. “What now?”

“Vikings.”

“Vikings?”

“Stoneheim Vikings. And if they carry the banner, my father is with them.”

“Is that good news or bad news?”

“Well, let me just say, my father has seen more than fifty winters, and he has not left the Norselands in twenty years.”

It was Caedmon then who said, “Uh-oh!”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Daddy knows best…

Caedmon walked up behind Breanne as she stood at the ramparts and kissed the back of her neck.

He sniffed deeply and said, “You smell of raspberries and roses.

At first, she leaned back into him and allowed him to wrap his arms around her waist, but then she shrugged him off. “Behave, lest someone see us.”

He glanced around. Most everyone was at the other end of the ramparts, or down in the bailey preparing for the “visitors.”

Dunstan and the king had not been happy to learn that a “horde” of Norsemen were on their way, even when assured by Caedmon, Geoff, Eirik, and the princesses that they probably came in peace.

“Why are you so distressed?” he asked Breanne. “You should be happy that your father comes to your rescue.” Assuming that was why he was here.

“I suspect that my father is beyond furious and will ride in with sword and battle-axe raised.”

He had been thinking that all would be well now that her father and his hirdsmen had come to escort the princesses home. “You do not mean that he would kill Edgar and Dunstan.”

She shrugged. “There is no telling what an angry Viking will do. He has been known to lop off a head and then sit down to eat.”

“My head is beginning to ache.”

“I should forewarn you…”

Bloody hell! I do not like that look on her face.

“…if my father hears of our bargain, or even the false betrothal, he might be a tiny bit upset.”

Forget head lopping. Perchance my brain might just explode inside by head.

“Oh, look, there is Tyra. In full battle gear.” At first she giggled, then went more serious when she realized the significance of that apparel. “That is Adam and their little boy Edward riding farther back.”

Caedmon had never seen a woman in armor, weighed down with sword and axe, although Saxons grew up on tales of the warrior queen Boadicea, who had fought bravely against the Romans.

Just then, Breanne went stiff and gasped.

“What?”

“Oh my gods and goddesses! ’Tis Rafn.” She pointed to a Viking warrior who rode at the head of the hird, beside the king.