Page 59 of To Tame a Viking Warlord

"You gave me food when I had none. That is worth a great deal."

They sat by the hidden fire while the dark came down. Beneath Samira's clothes, the pendant had grown warm against her skin. Not the burn of danger. Something else. The birthmark on her wrist tingled, and she looked across the fire at the woman opposite and knew, without knowing how, what she was looking at.

"Someone is searching for you," Samira said.

Naomi went very still. "Who?"

"More than one." Samira kept her voice low. "One means you great harm. The other has been searching a long time and only means to bring you home."

Naomi stared at her. For a moment Samira thought she would reach for the quarterstaff.

"How can you know that?"

"I do not know how. I only know it is true."

Naomi looked into the fire for a long time. When she spoke again, she spoke carefully.

"And you, Samira? Are you running from someone?"

Samira thought of Torstein. Of his face at the fire, and the way his voice had broken.

"I am running from a man who would keep me safe."

"Is that so terrible?"

"When the price of safety is to stop being what I am," Samira said quietly, "yes."

Naomi did not answer. But she did not look away either.

In the gray of the morning they kicked earth over the fire, and it went out without a trace. Naomi turned north toward the mountains. Samira turned south.

"God keep you, Samira."

"And you, Naomi. Remember to eat."

Naomi laughed, and raised a hand, and walked away. Samira watched her go until the trees took her. Then she pulled the fur-lined cloak tighter and continued on toward Saddell Abbey.

***

Chapter 23

The Hidden Men

The birthmark began to burn an hour after Naomi had gone.

Samira stopped on the track above the water. The morning was gray and still. Nothing moved in the trees. Nothing moved on the road below.

She drew the pendant from its pouch and held it in her palm without closing her fingers. She remembered the cold at Loch Awe, and the blood, and Torstein's face when she woke. For a long moment she did not dare.

Then she closed her hand around it.

The light came quick and sharp. She saw a glen with a burn running through it, and a ford where the road crossed the water. She saw men lying flat in the bracken on either bank with bows across their backs. She saw four riders coming down the glen at a hard pace, and the one at the front had golden hair.

She tore her hand away before the stone could take more. Blood touched her lip, only a drop, and she wiped it on her sleeve.

Torstein had followed her. And he was riding straight into their trap.

Samira ran.