Free Viking by Connie Mason Page B

beginning. The stars did not lie, child. When I met the Viking I feared I had read the signs wrong, but now I know I did not. Everything I predicted will come to pass.”
    He stared at her intently, his eyes glowing. “Nevertheless, I fear for you, child. It will not be easy. Difficult times are ahead. Dark forces are at work. You must use your wits to survive. Danger lurks in unlikely places.”
    “Are you referring to Thorne?”
    “The only danger Thorne presents is to your heart.”
    “Then who?”
    “ ’Tis not yet clear to me. I can but tell you to beware of Bretta and her brother.”
    “Will Thorne marry Bretta?”
    “A match between them is not in the stars.”
    Suddenly a scream brought everyone to their feet. Men reached for their weapons. Fiona spotted the problem immediately. Tyra had gotten too close to the hearth and set herself afire. She ran around in circles, trying to escape the flames licking at her skirts. Fiona acted instinctively. Her gaze lit on a cloak one of the men had left lying on the bench.While everyone stood by helplessly, Fiona grasped the cloak, sprinted toward Tyra, threw her to the ground and smothered her in the cloak. Then she rolled her over and over on the floor until the flames were doused.
    A moment later Thorne was beside her, helping to stomp out the remaining embers from Tyra’s clothing. Tyra was sobbing with pain when she was finally released from the cloak. A quick examination by Fiona showed that Tyra had suffered burns to both legs from ankle to knee. Though the burns were not severe, the skin was blistered and painful. Without a thought to her slave status, Fiona issued crisp orders to those milling about. She called for lard. No one moved until Thorne translated and nodded approval. Lard was quickly produced. Fiona mixed it with herbs she carried in a bag attached to her belt and applied the mixture to Tyra’s burns. Then she asked for strips of clean linen for wrappings, and Thorne repeated her request in his own language.
    “There will be no scarring,” Fiona assured Tyra when she helped the thrall to sit up. “But you should stay off your feet for a few days.”
    Tyra looked at Thorne for confirmation. “Aye,” he concurred. “Rest until you feel able to continue your duties, Tyra.” He summoned a male thrall to carry Tyra to a bench where she could rest.
    “You saved my life,” Tyra said, touching Fiona’s hand in gratitude. “It feels better already. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.”
    “I’ll brew something to ease your pain and helpyou rest,” Fiona said, embarrassed by Tyra’s gratitude.
    Thorne stared at Fiona, stunned at the way she had taken control of the situation. If he had doubted Fiona’s healing skills before, he no longer did. Unfortunately the knowledge did nothing to allay his other doubts about Fiona’s powers. Bretta didn’t help matters any when she sidled up to him and whispered, “Fiona is a witch, I tell you. Her healing powers are tainted with black magic.”
    “Nay, that is not true,” Brann said. He was standing nearby and heard what Bretta said. “A healer cannot be a witch. ’Tis the difference between good and evil. Think on it, Lord Viking,” Brann advised as he turned away.
    “Why is that man here?” Bretta asked, turning on Thorne. “Have he and Fiona stolen your mind? Really, Thorne, weakness does not become you. I want them both gone before we marry.” Head held high, she walked away.
    “Bretta is right,” Olaf said, nodding sagely. “She will be your wife; there should be harmony in your household. There can never be peace as long as Fiona is around. Everyone knows you took Fiona to your bed last eve. ’Twas a grave insult to Bretta. I do not blame her for being bitter. I want this marriage, Thorne; ’tis a good political move. Do not disappoint me.”
    “I won’t disappoint you, Father,” Thorne said before he turned and strode away.
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    After the