Page 55 of To Tame a Viking Warlord

She swayed once, and found her husband's hand still wrapped around her own. Whatever the seeing had drawn out of her, his grip seemed to give back.

"That is all I can see for now," she said.

For a moment nobody spoke.

Njal crossed himself. Mathias muttered something under his breath.

"Do ye understand what this means?" Thorfinn said at last. He looked around at all of them. "This does not simply guard a secret. It finds them. Every relic with power hidden in it. If the Brotherhood held this, they could hunt down the lot."

"They could not," Samira said quietly. "Not without me. In any other hands it is only a stone."

Thorfinn looked at her. Then he let out a long breath.

"Then it is not only the pendant they will hunt," he said. "It is you."

Torstein's hand found Samira's beneath the table and held it hard.

***

THORFINN PACED THE length of the hearth twice before he spoke again.

"Macbeth and I are bound for Rome soon," he said. "We will be gone many months. I cannae keep this here while I am away, and I will not risk it on the road to Rome." He turned to face them. "The Abbess gave me this task, and it is not finished. The pendant must go back to Saddell Abbey. Murdina and her sisters will keep it safe."

"And Samira?" Torstein asked.

"She goes with it." Thorfinn's gaze moved to her. "The stone is useless without its guardian, and its guardian is not safe anywhere the Brotherhood can reach her. Ye will all go with extra guards."

Torstein looked at his wife.

Samira gave the smallest nod. This was her destiny and why she had gotten on the ship.

"Consider it done, Jarl," Torstein said.

Thorfinn's hard face creased into something close to a smile. "I expected nothing less."

"When?" Samira asked.

"Ye have only just come home. Enjoy the feast tonight. Take a few days in yer own house." He placed the pendant back in the boist and locked it away. "Three days after the feast, ye make the journey to Saddell."

"Three days," Torstein agreed.

Beyond the oak door the hall was already filling with voices and the smell of roasting meat. Ingibiorg's feast was waiting.

Samira rose with her husband's hand still in hers and felt the weight of what lay ahead settle over her. Three days of home. Then the road south, and whatever waited at the end of it.

***

First Fight

THORFINN'S SHIP CARRIED them across the Pentland Firth, and from there they took horses.

It had been the jarl's decision. The Brotherhood had hired men in Dyflin, and they would be watching the western sea lanes for a Norse sail. A small band of riders on the roads would draw far less notice. So they went south through Sutherland and Ross, Torstein and Samira, Leif, Mathias and Njal. Torstein carried the pendant in its box against his chest inside his tunic, and he slept with his hand on it.

They followed the Great Glen past the long black water of Loch Ness, then Loch Linnhe, then south into Argyll. Samira had never seen so much water that was not the sea, or so many trees. She rode with her face turned up to the rain and did not complain once.

On the ninth day, on the shore of Loch Awe, the birthmark on her wrist began to burn.

She reined in. "We are followed."