Surrender My Love by Johanna Lindsey
“Her brother?” Alfred looked to where Selig was being entertained across the hall, with a bevy of women vying for his attention. “That handsome wretch who has seduced every woman in my court?”
Royce could not quite keep his grin back. Alfred was only a couple of years older than Selig, which was to say he was young enough to appreciate the ladies—and be a bit envious of the kind of success Selig was accustomed to.
“I doubt me he has gotten to every one,” Royce commented dryly.
“I would not wager on that,” Kristen said beneath her breath, so as not to draw notice. She imagined her husband was not going to be too pleased with her right now for bringing this new dilemma upon them.
Alfred was merely perplexed. “For what conceivable reason would he need a woman captured for him, when anyone with eyes can behold how they fall at his feet in droves? Is she that beautiful?”
Royce could see that Alfred’s interest was piqued by that thought, so he quickly disabused him. “She is no more than average in prettiness. She was not taken for what you are thinking, but for revenge.”
Royce briefly explained the circumstances as he knew them. Kristen relaxed somewhat, for she didn’t come out sounding quite so foolish and irresponsible for her part in it, at least not as much as Royce had made her feel when they had discussed the matter themselves.
He finished the tale with, “If you will excuse me now, my lord, I will see what can be done to send these Danes home again.”
“You had better hope you have enough silver on hand,” Alfred warned. “’Tis the first thing those greedy bastards always demand.”
Alfred ought to know. He had depleted the royal coffers enough times to meet the exorbitant Danegeld prices demanded of him to get the Danes out of Wessex in the past. But Royce didn’t intend to deplete his own store for his brother-in-law. Whatever Danegeld had to be paid, if any did, Selig could pay it.
He had not quite reached the entrance to the hall when he noted that his wife was close on his heels. Without stopping or glancing back at her, he demanded, “And where do you think you go?”
Kristen came up beside him, but also refrained from looking at him. “With you, of course.”
“Nay, you will not.”
That adamant reply had her tugging on his arm to stop him so she could point out, “You do not speak Danish, Royce. Nor do you wish to speak directly to a Dane, even if you could. You would sooner draw your sword. I will interpret for you. ’Tis the least I can do.”
His brow lifted at that last comment. “Do you finally admit you may have made a mistake?”
“If I did not take her when I did, Selig would have gone back for her later. Either way, he would have ended up with her, or died in the trying. Nay, I do not regret my own actions. Better we have her here behind these walls, giving us the upper hand.”
His arms crossed his chest in one of his more superior stances. “Upper hand? When we are about to be besieged?”
She grinned at him. “Think you I do not know you have already made allowances for that? And if ’tis necessary, we can always threaten the lady’s life to get them to depart. It worked before.”
“With mere soldiers, aye. But a bluff may not work on her brother.”
“I was not bluffing before.”
“Because you were in a rage at the time,” he reminded her. “But you would not kill her now any more than I would—any more than Selig would.”
Kristen shrugged, acquiescing to that. “Why do we not find out what sort of man we have to deal with before we discuss our own options? Ragnar Haraldsson could be a complete idiot for all we know, and easily bought off with a few coins or promises. After all, he has ridden into Wessex with an army. If that was not a stupid thing to do—”
“Stupid or in deadly earnest—just as you were when you took army into East Angha.”
Kristen flushed at that pointed reminder. But they continued, through the bailey and up the stairs to the wooden walk built along the length of the stone walls. The captain of the guard already had the parapet fully manned with all weapons at the ready. It was merely a formality, for it was highly unlikely there would be fighting today. Sunset was approaching. Even the initial communications might be put off until the morrow.
The Danes were boldly setting up camp just beyond firing range. From what Kristen could see, they had come prepared for any eventuality, and she estimated that there were some hundred and fifty of them, with as many mounts. Royce could surpass that number, at least in men. But not all would be seasoned fighters as these Danes were guaranteed to be.
Whatever happened, she could not let it come to fighting. If she had to sit on Selig until he agreed to give back the woman, she would. Of course, she would take his side for as long as she was able to. She was not going to give up his prisoner unless it was absolutely necessary.
She scanned the front lines to see if she could figure out which of the large Vikings was Erika’s brother. Her eyes fell on Turgeis instead, unmistakable among the others.
“I see her shadow is still around,” she remarked, not really surprised to see it so.
“Her what?”
“That is what she calls that giant, Turgeis Ten Feet, who is never far from where she is.” She pointed him out in the center of the line. “Look there.”
Royce did. “Impressive.”
Kristen snorted, remembering how the man looked when you stood on the ground next to him. “You would not think so if you had to fight him.”
“So which one is the brother?”
“Mayhap the one arguing with Turgeis. Who else would dare?”
Royce chuckled. Kristen was glad he could find something amusing in this, because she could not.
Chapter 27
THREE RODE FORWARD toward the closed gate. Turgeis Ten Feet was one. The sight of his oversized ax, strung across his back, gave Kristen chills. They would have no need of a battering ram. She imagined that ax alone could shatter their wooden gate if the giant was wielding it.
She decided Ragnar was the one in the middle, though the helmet he wore kept her from seeing his features. Large he was and finely honed by war, but she was pleased to note that her brother was much larger. Selig could take him with ease—if he were fully recovered. Unfortunately, he might be behaving normally again, but that did not mean he was ready for mortal combat.
The horses stopped. Two of the men removed their helmets, tucking them beneath thick arms. Turgeis had not worn one, nor chain mail, like his companions.
“I am Ragnar Haraldsson.”
Kristen had picked him accurately. A handsome man with gold hair tinged with red, and azure eves—just like his sister.
“We know who you are,” she called down to him. “I am Kristen of Wyndhurst.”
“Aye, we know who you are as well, lady.”
There was anger in his tone now, just for her, and it sounded new. She wondered if she had Turgeis to thank for that and decided she did. It was likely he had recounted what had happened outside Gronwood’s gates word for word, deed for deed, whereas before Ragnar arrived, he probably had only a sketchy telling from those left behind.
“Does my sister still live?”
The question might have surprised her moments ago, but didn’t now. And mayhap Turgeis had done them a favor by convincing his lord that she was as bloodthirsty as any man. It certainly couldn’t hurt for him to think so if it came down to bluffing.
“Your sister enjoys good health—for the time being.”
Thank God Royce could not understand her, for he would be yanking her up by the neck and shaking her for what was, in fact, a subtle threat. Ragnar, on the other hand, appeared to have expected no less.
He merely said, “I would see her.”
“If you are willing to come alone, you may enter our gates. Otherwise, you must take my word for it that she has come to no harm here.”
He was not pleased at all with that answer. “Where is your husband, that I might speak with him??
“My Lord Royce stands beside me. Speak to him if you know Saxon. If not, you must speak through me.”
He liked that answer even less. “You know why I am come, lady. You had no right to take my sister.”
Her voice rose to more equal his. “Rights? You want to discuss rights? Firstly, my brother was on a mission for King Alfred to your king. He was sorely injured on the way and came to your Gronwood for aid. There he was accused of spying. The truth he offered was disbelieved. And he was lashed. With a raging fever and already in severe pain, he was lashed. He has the right to demand retribution for that, and your sister will answer to him for it.”
“I have it from her man, Turgeis, that the lashing was ordered in anger because this Selig insulted her. I also have it from him that she was about to cancel the order when my son broke his arm and drew her attention to him instead. She made a mistake, but your brother made it first by trying to treat her as a common wench instead of the jarl’s daughter she is. I will not have her suffer for a mistake.”
Kristen had heard from Royce about the “anger” that was supposedly responsible for the lashing. But she was to believe that lashing would not have occurred if Erika had not had her attention drawn elsewhere? When it took only a few words, given to any passing servant, to end or delay an order? She didn’t think so.
And Ragnar’s story did not account for the lady’s laughter, which Selig clearly recalled. The amusement she had found in his suffering. She had to have been there to see it, which meant Ragnar was either misinformed by Turgeis or lying himself to save his sister. Kristen could not fault him for that, since she would have done the same thing. That it wouldn’t work was because she was aware of more facts than he.
For his effort, she gave him a tight little smile that he could interpret as he would. “When my brother is satisfied that your sister has paid all she owes him, then will she be sent home.”
“If all he wants is money—”
“He will not accept money.”
There was a long silence while he considered the implication of that. “He has raped her?”
“If she is no longer a maiden, ’tis her own doing and no fault of ours.”
“You are saying she is not?”
“I am saying I saw no reason to ask her if she is or is not, so how would I know? But she will not depart here without his leave, and he is not ready to give it.”
Ragnar’s horse reared, sensing his fury and frustration. “Lady, that is unacceptable. Send him out. I challenge him now.”
“He is not recovered enough yet to accept any challenges. But I am the one who took her for him,” Kristen reminded him. “Do you want to fight me?”
“From you I will have Danegeld for your temerity. From the one you took her for, I will have his life.”
“If he is willing to fight you once he is well, so be it. But that will not be for some time yet. You might as well return to—”
“I will fight him now,” Selig said behind her.
Kristen whirled around to block him from mounting the last few steps to the platform, silently cursing whoever had informed him that the Danes were here. And she did not quibble words. “Do you have your full strength back?”
“Enough of it—”
“But not all. And do not tell me you no longer suffer those headaches, because I know otherwise.”
“This is not debatable,” Selig insisted.
“Aye, you have that right. You will not accept the man’s challenge unless he is willing to wait until you are fully recovered.”
He understood her concern and loved her for it, but in this she could not interfere. “Kris, you have no say in this, so move aside.”
When she did not, he leaned forward, caught her hand, and hefted her over his shoulder so he could mount the last few steps and put her aside. He then turned immediately to look down on the Danes—and started swearing when his eyes locked on Ragnar Haraldsson.
Ragnar was able to see Selig now as well and shouted up, “You!”
Selig turned his back on the Danes to face the hall. He was still softly cursing when he noticed the window to his chamber and saw Erika standing there, where she could see at least half of the army that had come for her. He had not rechained her to the wall. He should have.
“He sounds as if he knows you,” Royce said quietly beside him.
Selig’s voice was rife with exasperation. “Indeed he does. He is the Dane who saved my life when he mistook me for one of the Danish horde that your Saxons finally routed.”
“I recall how amused you were afterward, though no less grateful,” Royce replied, only to add what he and Kristen were both now thinking. “If you owe the man a debt, you can repay it by returning his sister.”
“Nay!” Selig said emphatically and started back down the stairs. “I owe him, not her. And I will repay him by not fighting him.” And then he swore yet again. “Thor’s teeth, why did he have to be her brother?”
“Splendid,” Royce mumbled as he turned toward his wife, who was still staring after her brother, a bit disconcerted by the irony none of them had been expecting. “So now we have a standoff.”
“Mayhap not,” she said and leaned over the wall again to tell the waiting Ragnar, “Selig is as surprised as you must be, Lord Ragnar, that you two should meet again this way. He acknowledges the debt he owes you, and because of it, will not fight you.”
“There is no debt owing from deceit,” Ragnar refuted angrily. “Never would I have aided him had I known he was my enemy. Now, either he accepts my challenge, or he sends out my sister.”
Kristen was distinctly uncomfortable with the answer she must give to that. Her entire family had reason to be grateful to this man, whether he wanted that gratitude or not. And this was no way to show it. She had a strong desire to kick her dear brother.
“I am sorry,” she finally said, and she meant it. “He still means to keep her—for the while.”
“And I do not leave here without her. You want a siege, you shall have one.” And he jerked his mount around to ride back to his men.
Kristen’s expression was pure vexation. “Notice he left before I could make some threats of my own.”
Royce frowned at her. “What threats?”
She sighed. “It matters not now.”
“Then what are his threats?”
“You were correct, we have a standoff. He will not leave without Erika.”
“So we are besieged, with the King of Wessex behind these walls?”
“God’s mercy,” she groaned. “I forgot about him.”
Chapter 28
IT WAS UP to Kristen to relate to the rest of the family all that had transpired up on the wall, since Royce had not heard the whole of it. Unfortunately, King Alfred was there to hear it as well. But then, it was next to impossible to exclude him since he was involved due to the simple fact that he could not leave Wyndhurst until the dilemma was solved.
For the most part, Alfred didn’t interfere in the discussions of what was to be done. Options were few, with Selig so against the obvious one, and so adamant that he lost his temper and stalked off.
His last words on the subject were, “I will agree to whatever is decided, as long as it does not include the loss of my prisoner. I’ll even fight that giant Turgeis instead of her brother.”
No one was willing to offer that option to the Danes. Waiting out the siege would have been the simplest choice, if Alfred weren’t there to be confined with the rest of them. The men favored aggression, the women peaceful means. No one considered using a threat to Erika’s life when they knew not how her brother might react to it.
In the end, it was Alfred who suggested the most logical solution, one that Selig’s family would never have thought of themselves. And they greeted it with differing degrees of skepticism.
Royce simply laughed.
Garrick cleared his throat to say, “I would not wish that on my son, yet is he being unreasonable in his stubbornness to keep
“It matters not,” Kristen insisted. “Selig will never agree to it. He would go out there and get himself killed first. And who is going to suggest it to him?”
“I will,” Royce offered.
Kristen snorted. “You would not be able to stop laughing long enough.”
“Nay, I am sure the rage he is going to exhibit will sober me—if he does not simply give me his fist.” And he was off laughing again.
Kristen was glaring at him by now. “Would you mind telling me what you find so funny in this?”
“The irony,” he said between chuckles. “The incredible irony.”
Brenna had said nothing so far. Garrick, noting it, leaned near her to ask softly, “Why are you not pulling hairs and railing against this?”
Brenna shrugged. “Because I do not think he will mind so much—in the end.”
Garrick lifted a questioning brow. “Have you kept something from me I should know about?”
The look she gave him was pure innocence. “You know what I know. He claims to detest her, yet does she appeal to him. I believe our daughter and son-in-law had this same difficulty at one time.”
“Their circumstances were a mite different, my love. Royce was not seeking revenge.”
“And Selig has a strange way of exacting his,” Brenna replied.
He shook his head at her. “You are too much the romantic, to think his unusual behavior has more meaning than what it seems.”
“Am I? Selig will be furious at the mere suggestion, I doubt it not. But let us see how long he protests before he concedes.”
“You do not think this will force him to relinquish her instead?”
“Let us say I will be surprised if it does.”
Garrick was not so sure, but he recommended they all find Selig to tell him what had been decided, since it would take a united effort to combat his stubbornness, one way or the other. And he still had two choices. The irony that had so amused Royce was that he had refused to give the Dane back, but the alternative was to be stuck with her for good.