Free Viking Flame: Prequel to Viking Fire by Andrea R. Cooper Page A

and Constantinople know me as a trader.” Since Morga, Bram had never shed blood or stolen from her country.
    Maybe living in Ireland would help ease the ache she’d left. Somehow be closer to her.
    Bram desired a place he could defend and not have to leave for months at a time to go a-viking . He’d already turned down five replacement thralls his brother, Erick, brought him over the years. He wanted a wife, not a slave.
    Regardless, Bram had agreed to join Liannon’s clan and fight alongside the Gaels all for the hope of land and starting a family. The fishing ship drew up to the coast and the Captain tossed him a line to the row boat. “Get on with you.”
    Bram smirked, but climbed down the side of the ship and into the rowboat. The first mate, one who always glared at him with a bleeding gummed snarl, and scurvy, snatch the oar. Without waiting for Bram to settle into the boat, the man pushed off with the oars. Bram fell against the back of the boat with a grunt.
    “I paid your Captain handsomely to see me safely to shore.”
    “Aye.” The man rowed, but his scowl did not lessen. Cliffs rose up on one side of the ocean and waves churned against the rocks.
    Near the beach, the man quit rowing and yanked out a knife.
    Bram didn’t move. “You go against your Captain’s orders t—”
    “You made it to shore. That’s all we’s promised.” He spat at Bram’s boots. “No one said anything about you living afterwards .” When he dove forward, Bram ducked to the side and snatched the sailor’s arm, pinning it to his side. When the sailor slung with his free arm, Bram increased the pressure until the man was on his knees.
    “Cease, or I will break your arm.” If it wasn’t for his pledge to Morga, he’d have snapped the man’s arm already. Once his contract was signed with the Laird, then he’d be free to fight in Ireland—or at least against other Vikings and rival Irishmen. The man continued to struggle, “Or perhaps a leg as well? What will your Captain say if you return without your weapon and injured? Will he be merciful and allow you to recover or throw you to the sharks?”
    “Heathen scum!” He twisted his body to escape Bram’s grip.
    As he did, Bram snapped the man’s wrist backward and the first mate let out a howl before the blade came closer to Bram’s chest.
    “Now, hand me the knife.” When the man glared at him, he increased pressure on the bent wrist. “Or this heathen might do worse so that not even the sharks would want you.”
    The first mate gulped and released his hold of the knife.
    Bram broke his hold and snatched the blade out of the air before it hit the water. “Tell your Captain, I will not forget his hospitality nor will any of my eight brothers.”
    The man paled. “What brings you to our island? To rape our women and pillage our churches?”
    “No.” Bram rose and tucked the small blade into his boot. “To find my bride.”

Chapter Two
     
    Rain pelted the keep’s stonewalls and wooden rafters. Pheasant and wood smoke lingered in the air as Bram followed an elderly servant through Liannon’s keep.
    Months ago, Bram negotiated with Irish Lairds. Many needed protection against not only Vikings, like him, who raided their shores and monasteries, but against rival clansmen. Sometimes those battles were bloodier than with the foreigners.
    “You arrived sooner than expected and the Laird doesn’t have your contract back from the scribe yet. He told me to make you comfortable and he’d meet with you tomorrow evening.” The servant bristled as she led him into a small chamber. “In the meantime, best keep to yourself, and stay here.”
    Inside was a bed and a wooden shelf lined the stone wall. The servant marched to the window and opened the shutters. A small fire crackled in the hearth. Not much room, but was better than outside in the cold and rain.
    Bram had put into his response to the Laird, not to betray his presence to their subjects until necessary.