Page 21 of Lord of Fire and Ice

Still, there was something about the man that made her hackles rise. He was not here because he wished to court her for herself, however much he might appreciate her appearance, and he’d already dismissed her property as small.

So what did he really want?

Chapter 7

Albrikt Gormson is naught but a violator of sheep and wants only to add you to the flock, Katla, Brandr would have told her if the princess would deign to let him speak. He’d always been a steady judge of character, and in short order, he’d decided Gormson had none.

Desiring a woman was one thing. He completely understood Gormson’s lascivious glances at Katla, even though they made his fingers ball into fists.

But the urge to subjugate, to dominate and control her, was quite another thing. He saw that need flare in Gormson’s eyes more often than raw lust.

This man meant Katla, and the people she cared for, no good.

Brandr stood by, refilling Katla’s drinking horn, and Gormson’s as well, when the man thrust it toward him. In his mind, he gutted and quartered Albrikt several times, but he guarded his expression with care. Only the discipline he’d learned in the Varangian Guard allowed him to stand by in silence.

But that didn’t mean there’d never be a time to act. No matter how frustrated he was with Katla, he wouldn’t let Gormson bring her to grief.

“Have you made preparations for the defense of this farmstead?” Gormson asked.

“We have,” Katla said circumspectly. “But we’ve had peace on Tysnes for so long, there’s been little need.”

“There’s every need,” Albrikt said. “I’m a fair hand with a blade. Mayhap you’d like a demonstration. Who’s your best fighter?”

“There’s too much work to be done to chance injuring someone in a mock battle. I won’t risk any of my people.”

Gormson turned and eyed Brandr. “Then risk one who isn’t part of your household.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll take your word for it. No doubt you’re very skilled with a sword.”

“The ear may hear, but the eye believes.” Albrikt leaped up and plowed into Brandr, shouldering past him with enough force to spin him around, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Brandr clutched at the back wall to remain upright, but he bit back a snarl. He was less successful about keeping the torches from flaring brightly around the long room. When he tamped down his anger, they returned to normal.

Katla gaped after Albrikt as he continued to walk another few paces.

Then Albrikt stopped and turned to look back at Brandr. “No challenge? Not a word of rebuke? Do you not care that I just insulted you, thrall?”

Brandr’s eyes blazed. “’Tis not the first time you’ve done me insult, but my collar protects you. A slave cannot issue a challenge.”

He hadn’t forgotten Gormson’s slanderous words about his father.

“And it won’t be the last time you’re insulted, so long as you wear that iron collar,” Albrikt said as he walked back to stand nose to nose with Brandr. “You may as well get used to insults.”

“That’s enough,” Katla said. “Both of you.”

Albrikt didn’t even glance her way. He put both hands on Brandr’s chest and shoved. Brandr stumbled backward a few paces but didn’t fall.

“Aren’t you going to defend yourself?” the big Stordman demanded.

“If I strike you, I strike off my own head.”

“Oh, that’s right. Pity.” Then Albrikt delivered a blow to Brandr’s jaw that sent him sprawling into the dirt.

Katla shrieked but quickly clamped a hand to her mouth when Brandr glanced toward her with mayhem in his eye.

“I have tried to serve you with honor, princess.” Brandr rose to his feet, his jaw rigid. “Will you give me leave to defend myself?”

Katla shook her head. “Albrikt, I insist—”