Page 38 of The Outlaw Viking

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“God’s handmaiden! Who the hell do you think?”

“Do you really think the Lord sent her to you?”

“Nay, I think Loki is playing a vast joke by sending Rain to bedevil me.”

Ubbi looked wounded, then glanced right and left to make sure they were not overheard before confiding in an awe-filled whisper, “I found a feather in yer bed furs yesterday when I straightened up yer tent.”

Selik furrowed his brow in thought. He could not see the connection between Ubbi’s discovery and Rain.

“Do you not see, master? It no doubt came from her wings which she hides from us earthy bodies.”

“Oh, for the love of Freya!” Selik hooted with laughter, unable to believe Ubbi’s gullibility.

As he was wiping the mirth from his eyes a few moments later, Selik noticed Rain kneeling beneath a tree on the other side of the small spring—digging a hole.

Ubbi put a hand on Selik’s arm as he prepared to go to her. “Master, do not be harsh with her. She does not understand our ways.”

Selik looked at his loyal servant’s worried face and tensed. Rain had brewed trouble once again, no doubt, and the foolish man tried to protect her from his wrath.

Without another word, Selik spun on his heel and made his way toward her kneeling body. When he got closer, he saw that her head was bowed in a prayerful attitude and she was mumbling some words aloud, something about her Lord being a shepherd and her lying down in pastures. A fresh mound of dirt lay in front of her.

Was it some kind of religious ritual? Or had she stolen some precious object from his tent to hide until her escape?

Exasperated, Selik grabbed her by the forearm and pulled her to her feet. The small shovel in her hands clattered to the ground with the abrupt motion.

Rain’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh! You scared me.” Then, as if recalling to mind her continuing anger towards him, she struggled to escape his grip.

“What in bloody hell are you doing?”

She raised her chin defiantly and refused to answer.

“I asked you a question,” he said coldly, tightening his hold on her upper arm to the point of pain. “Answer or I swear I will break your arm.”

He saw the tears well in her eyes, a mixture of pain and wounded pride, but he did not care. She had pushed him beyond his limits of endurance. “Are you planning to escape?”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “What?”

“Was it my gold coins you buried, or a sharp knife, to aid you in your escape?”

“No, you stupid brute, I was burying your dead.”

His breath whooshed out in a loud exhale, and Selik released her. His finger imprints had already bruised her soft flesh.

“What dead?” he choked out. “Surely my men buried the captive that Ubbi killed yesterday.”

She darted a look of disbelief at him. “You are the most thickheaded man I have ever met. Do you honestly think I could have dug a hole big enough to bury a man of Edwin’s size with this little shovel?”

He looked at the small digging implement and realized that, in truth, he had not been thinking clearly. Slow down, he told himself silently. Stop letting your emotions rule your head. Think.

“Tell me then,” he said more calmly.

She held his gaze, her honey eyes sparkling with challenge. “I was burying the—she swallowed hard several times before continuing—“the scalps you took yesterday.” Her eyes flashed defiantly as she awaited his usual angry outburst.

The scalps. The bloody witch is trying to counter the behaettie. God, she never ceases to amaze me.