Free To Find a Viking Treasure (Norse Series Book 2) by Gina Conkle Page B

warrior sneered at Brandr. “Don’t play us for fools. We know you serve Hakan.”
    “ Served Hakan,” he said carefully. “I swore allegiance to Sven Henrikkson after Lithsablot. We all know he follows the Dane.”
    Both men shot quick looks to each other.
    “Sven sent us here on Gorm’s orders,” Brandr explained. “To bring back the hoard. Payment for the Black Wolf and his men.”
    Winds shifted with the secret said aloud. Seconds passed, marked by ravens cawing overhead and the crash of the waterfall. The bald one dropped his hand from Sestra’s mouth, but he kept his manacle grip on her arm. She gulped air, her chest heaving from the effort.
    The tall warrior cocked his head, his sharp scrutiny flicking from the hole in the ground to the broken rune stone. The larger piece was nowhere in sight.
    Brandr took a casual step toward his weapons. “You can see I’m here with the Henrikkson thrall,” he continued. “She guided me.”
    Sestra swallowed visibly, her eyes flashing split-second awareness. It was a huge gamble, hoping she sensed his plan and wouldn’t crumble from fright.
    She frowned at the thick fingers clamping her arm, regarding the man like an insect. “And how displeased Lord Gorm will be that you’ve bruised me.”
    The bald one sneered, “A thrall talking like a highborn lady.”
    “I wouldn’t handle her so meanly,” he cautioned. “Gorm favors her when the Lady Astrid turns cool.”
    “Lady Astrid is always cool,” the bald one said.
    She took a deep breath, her breasts testing the limits of her bodice. “Why else do you think Sven Henrikkson suggested Gorm find his comfort with me?”
    The tall, bearded warrior’s eyes narrowed on her. “I’ve never seen you with Gorm.”
    “Because you keep account of all the women he beds?”
    His cold eyes studied her, dipping to her bodice. “I’d remember you.”
    Shoulders proudly back, she played to his lust. “Lord Gorm met me the day after the midsummer festival. He whispered to me of hiding his hoard here, told me he brought it that very morn with a white rune stone marked in red.” Her lips pursed. “How else do you think I know of this place and the stone?”
    Wind stirred the leaves and the air grew colder from the sun slipping away. The older Viking’s weathered hand eased its grip on the war hammer as he gave his partner a nod. The stout one let go of her arm.
    “I’ll keep the rest of his words to myself,” she said, her chin tipping high. “Same as I’ll keep quiet about your oafish hands on me, if you stop hindering us.”
    She sauntered several paces away from the two warriors, rubbing her arm, her eyes rounding on Brandr. Both men followed the sway of her backside. Sestra was panicked, but what a clever woman catching onto his ploy. He gave her the subtlest nod, acknowledging her quick thinking. She managed to remove herself a safe distance with nary a drop of blood spilled.
    He still had his vow to fulfill. The treasure.
    “What about the larger bag?” he asked.
    The tall one’s hoary brows slammed together. “What about it?”
    “It’s not here.”
    The tall one froze in place, a cool breeze twirling the pointed end of his beard. “Because it’s somewhere else,” he said slowly. Too slowly.
    Cold sweat pricked Brandr’s scalp. The giant war hammer twitched against the tall one’s leg as if the weapon itched to crush bone. Brandr’s thumb pressed the knife’s elk bone handle hidden by the pouches. Loud cawing pierced the air. Two ravens perched high, late-day sun blasting the birds with orange light. Shadows waxed longer in the cool the clearing. Night was coming.
    “Look.” Brandr nudged his chin high, his blood pumping fast. “Huginn and Muninn come to call.”
    Gorm’s men looked up at beady black-gold eyes peering down from high above. A man’s life could change in the space of one look, one breath. Nostrils flaring, Brandr took his fill of island air and seized the chance Odin gave