Page 110 of Viking in Love

“Who the hell is Rafn?” he asked but Breanne was already running away.

He followed her across the ramparts, down the stairs, through the great hall, across the upper, then the lower bailey. Her sisters were following close behind them. The drawbridge had been lowered and on the other side of the moat the troops had come to a halt with the man Rafn dismounting.

“Rafn!” Breanne screamed and rushed into his open arms as he limped toward her. He was a tall man, even taller than Caedmon, though slim and almost gaunt. He supposed some women would find his dark good looks appealing. He did not. Breanne was laughing and kissing the Viking’s neck.

With muttered imprecations, he stepped forward and yanked Breanne out of the man’s arms. The warrior immediately reached for his short sword.

Caedmon did likewise.

“Caedmon! What are you doing? This is Rafn.”

“And who are you to touch one of the princesses?” Rafn shouted.

Caedmon was about to say he was her betrothed, but Breanne slapped a hand over his mouth. “Caedmon is a friend and kinsman-by-marriage. He offered us protection.” Then, she turned to Caedmon with a tsk-ing sound of disgust. “And this is Rafn, Vana’s long-ago betrothed, who was supposed to be dead.”

“Hmpfh!” He was not consoled.

“What happened?” she asked Rafn.

“I will tell you all later.” He smiled at her.

Caedmon did not like other men smiling at her. Not one bit. Even a man presumably linked to her sister. And wasn’t that a fine mess of another color! An alleged murderess and a come-from-the-dead Viking warrior.

Meanwhile the other sisters had caught up and were surrounding Rafn, giving him hugs and kisses.

There was a coughing noise behind them.

He and Breanne turned to face a glowering old man with long white hair and war braids twined with crystals framing his leathery face. “Vikings are meant to ride longships, not horses,” he complained as two men helped him dismount. When he stood before them, Caedmon could see that he was a big man, and very fit for his age. Breanne had told him that she and her sisters were all legitimate, though born of different deceased mothers. Thorvald, apparently, had married all his women, sometimes more than one at a time.

A teary-eyed Breanne rushed up to her father, who opened his arms to embrace her. Patting her on the back, he kept telling her, “Hush now. Everything will soon be aright.”

Swiping at her eyes, Breanne stepped back, and Caedmon immediately put his arms around her shoulders. For some reason, he wanted to be the one to reassure her.

“And who are you to be touching my daughter so?” the aged warrior inquired.

“Sir Caedmon, this is my father, His Royal Highness the King of Stoneheim, Thorvald. Father, this is Sir Caedmon of Larkspur. You must be kind to him. He has protected us all these sennights when we were alone and had nowhere else to go.”

“Is that so?” He eyed Caedmon suspiciously, but only for a moment. With a gruff laugh, he grabbed Caedmon and yanked him into a hug that about broke his ribs and cut off his breathing.

“I owe you much, Saxon. Do you want gold, lands…or, ha, ha, ha…one of my daughters?”

The three princesses all groaned.

“It is a jest our father plays everywhere we go,” Breanne explained. “He pretends he wants us all married off.”

“I do,” the king disagreed.

“He is just teasing,” Breanne contended.

The king rolled his eyes at Caedmon. Just then, he seemed to really look at his daughters, and he swore a blue Viking streak. “What has happened to my beautiful daughters?”

Breanne’s red spots were smudged from her father’s hug, but Ingrith was still fat, and Drifa still crone-like. Breanne told him quickly that there was a reason for the disguises, which she would explain later.

The king just nodded, looking over their shoulders as Archbishop Dunstan approached, using his crozier as a walking stick. He was flanked by two of his tonsured monks. Dunstan’s face was flushed from the exertion, or perchance he was angry. Probably both.

“King Thorvald!” Dunstan greeted the old man who was eyeing him warily. “I see you have arrived in time for the betrothal ceremony.”

Caedmon and Breanne looked at each other…and grimaced.