Free Wild Viking Princess by Anna Markland Page B

Could it be you are thinking of Ragna?”
    Reider opened his mouth to deny it, but Kjartan knew him too well. “She has crept into my thoughts a time or two,” he conceded.
    Kjartan grunted. “Hah! A time or two? You are besotted with the woman.”
    Reider took another practice swing with the axe. “Is it that obvious?”
    Kjartan put his hands on his hips. “It pains me to say this, but Ragna has almost restored even my faith in women. She is a rare jewel. Forgive me, my Prince, but you would be a fool to drive her away.”
    ~~~
    Two days later, as the fleet approached Reider’s remote farm, it seemed the gods were not on their side. The waters were choppy and the early morning rain came down in sheets. The dock was small. It had not been used for years and some of the timbers were rotten. One boat holed on the jagged rocks and the men aboard had to swim for shore in the chilly water. Two drowned, weighed down by their armour.
    Each boat in turn disembarked its warriors at the dock, then anchored further out with a skeleton crew. Eventually three hundred tired men were safely landed, soaked to the skin. The sun came out and steam rose off their wet gear as they marched the mile to the farm. Once they had dried their weapons, they would rest until late afternoon then begin the trek to the Great Ringhouse.
    Reider, Kjartan, Dagfinn and his commanders gathered in the tiny farmhouse, welcomed heartily by the tenant farmer and his wife and children.
    Dagfinn chuckled, watching the farmer’s wife bow and scrape as she scurried to provide her unexpected noble guests with refreshment. “They are proud you have chosen their little abode to launch your offensive.”
    “They are good tenants who take care of the land,” Reider murmured, smiling as he too watched the farmer’s five urchins, all miniatures of the very pregnant farmwife. He had never thought much about siring children, but now he felt a yearning to hold a child of his own, Ragna’s child.
    “They have naught good to say about Gorm’s rule,” Kjartan added.
    They reviewed their plans, then settled down to rest. The farmer took his family off to the barn, insisting Reider sleep in his bed. The deer hide curtain provided some privacy to the little niche. He wiped the last of the rain from the lamellar cuirass Dagfinn had given him, stripped it off and flopped onto the pallet. Hands behind his head, he gazed up into the rafters, stretching his legs. The woodsy scent of the cooking fire smouldering in the hearth teased his nostrils.
    No doubt the farmer and his wife made love quietly here so as not to wake their children. His pik stirred at the thought of Ragna. How he wished she was in his arms, here in this simple little house with its sturdy oaken timbers and planked walls, joining with him to make beautiful blonde babies.
    He dozed fitfully for an hour or so, the task ahead weighing heavily on his mind. The clothing that had dried on his body earlier in the day felt stiff and uncomfortable. Impatient, he rose, put his armour back on, then went to find Kjartan. In short order the invading force was ready to begin the trek. At first the terrain was rocky and hilly, but levelled off as they approached the main village.
    ~~~
    Twilight descended as Reider and Dagfinn’s men dug into their hiding places just beyond the outlying ring houses.
    Kjartan returned from scouting the area. “Gorm has no guards in place on this side of the village. He never did think past his nose.”
    Reider shrugged one shoulder, tightening his grip on the handle of his strids ø kse, running his finger lightly over the blade of the axe. “He’ll regret that.”
    There was a sudden commotion. One of Dagfinn’s men appeared, dragging a villager by the scruff of the neck. “We caught this wretch spying on us,” he declared gruffly, throwing the peasant at Reider’s feet.
    The man turned fearful eyes to Reider, then came to his knees. “My lord Reider! Is it you? Praise be to our