Page 24 of To Tame a Viking Warlord

Torstein gritted his teeth and clenched and unclenched his fists, because he did indeed feel as if he wanted to reach across the table and haul her onto his lap. That would not be wise. If they were in Orkney, he would have done it without a second thought.

A servant came first with a brass ewer and basin, and poured water over each guest's hands in turn. Torstein held his out without hesitation and saw Dawud notice.

More servants followed with trays. There was bread and dates and a dish of sugared almonds, and tall cups of rose-colored sharbat beaded with cold from the well. A water carrier followed with a jar on his shoulder and began to set the cups before each guest, moving along the table with his head bowed.

Torstein barely noticed him. Dawud was speaking of the voyage south, of Lisbon, of the road from Salé, and Torstein answered as best he could with half his mind. The other half was on the way Samira turned her cup slowly between her fingers without drinking.

The water carrier set the last cup down before Samira and stepped back. As he turned away, the light from the courtyard fell across his face.

There was a bruise across his forehead, yellow and green now at the edges. It was the width of a man's brow and flat as a stone wall.

Torstein knew that bruise. He had put it there.

Samira lifted her cup.

Torstein was across the table before he knew he had moved. His hand struck the cup from her fingers. It flew and shattered against the tiles, and the sharbat spread across the floor in a pink stain.

The room erupted. Dawud was on his feet. Zohra had a blade in her hand. Two of the guards came through the door with their swords half drawn, and every one of them was looking at the Northman who had just struck out at the merchant's daughter.

"Stop him!" Torstein roared, and pointed.

The water carrier was already running.

***

THE CARRIER RAN TOWARDS the gate.

He dropped the jar in the doorway and it burst across the courtyard tiles. He was through the gate and into the lane.

Samira went after him. She hitched her skirts in one fist and ran.

Torstein snatched his sandals and slipped them on while running. He went out of the room and across the courtyard after her, his dagger loose at his belt. Behind him he heard two of Dawud's guards pounding along in their wake.

The water carrier was limping a little, and twice he looked back over his shoulder, and each time Samira gained on him. Torstein saw it and did not like it. A man running for his life did not look back to see who followed.

The lane narrowed and bent. A mule train was coming the other way, eight beasts laden with sacks of grain and a driver shouting at them all. The water carrier ducked beneath the lead mule's neck. Samira slipped through after him. Torstein turned his shoulder and forced his way between two of the animals, ignoring the driver's curses.

When he looked back, the mules had closed the lane completely. Dawud's guards were on the far side of them, shouting, trying to push through, going nowhere.

The water carrier turned into an alley and stopped.

Torstein came round the corner a heartbeat behind Samira and saw why.

The alley was blind. It ended in a high wall. Four men stood waiting in front of it, cloaked, faces wrapped, and as Torstein watched, two more stepped into the mouth of the alley behind them.

Samira had already drawn her blade from her sleeve.

Torstein stood very still and understood, too late, exactly what had been done to them. The poppy had been the first throw of the dice, and this was the second. They had been drawn out of a house full of guards and led by the nose into a trap, and he had run into it as blindly as a green boy.

He drew his dagger.

"Stay behind me," he said.

Samira did not even look at him. "No."

The first man came at her. She moved to meet him, blade low and reversed along her forearm, and Torstein stepped across in front of her and took the man's knife on his own dagger. He drove him back with a shove that sent him sprawling.

Samira made a sound of pure fury.