Page 122 of The Outlaw Viking

He nodded.

“When?”

He held out a hand to her. “Best we get it over with now.”

They walked outside the castle, across the bailey, and then entered an underground room under the soldiers’ barracks that held the prison. Rain assumed it was the same dank dungeon she’d been held in earlier. It didn’t look any better at night in the morbid shadows of their torchlight. Nor did it smell any better. And the screams and moans seemed to have increased.

Despite Eirik’s warnings, despite Rain’s medical experience in a city hospital, nothing could have prepared her for the horror of Selik’s tortured body.

He lay on a hard bench with his arm thrown over his face. His clothing lay in shreds, and he shivered in the cool dampness. Rain eyed Eirik’s fur-lined mantle, vowing that it would cover Selik when they left.

“Selik,” she said softly and saw his body stiffen. Slowly, he lowered his arm and turned, as if afraid of what he might see.

“Rain!” He sat up and groaned with pain. Then he shot an angry glare at Eirik. “How could you have brought her here to such a hellhole?”

“I was in the same prison, just down the hall, until a few hours ago,” she remarked and heard Selik curse under his breath, something about stubborn wenches.

She moved the torchlight closer and cried out at her first look at his face. Both eyes were black-and-blue and swollen almost completely shut. His nose appeared to have been broken again. And his hair—oh, sweet Jesus—his beautiful blond hair had been cut off completely, chopped so close to the scalp that bloody gouges showed through in some places.

“Your hair,” she moaned. “Oh, Selik, they cut your beautiful hair.”

Selik tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a grunt. “Christ, my body feels like a chopping block, and the wench worries about such vanities as hair.”

Rain knelt in the rushes beside the pallet and put her arms around his waist, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Absently, he ran a palm over her hair, crooning, “Hush, sweetling, hush. Ye should not have come.”

Rain knew she didn’t have unlimited time with Selik and quickly regained her composure. She made him lie down so she could examine his wounds. Clucking, she cleansed and bandaged the numerous cuts and bruises on his totally battered body. She sent Eirik for a straight stick which she used to set and bandage his broken arm. She stitched gashes on his thigh, forearm, and abdomen, much to Selik’s dismay at the first sight of her needle. With the linen strips, she tightly wrapped his cracked ribs, as well as a swollen knee. She had to repeatedly send Eirik to dump the pail of bloody water and get fresh water to clean his wounds.

Finally, Selik looked much better, dressed in a clean tunic and braies Eirik had brought for him. They set food, some coins, and other items in a basket at his feet.

Selik sat on the bench and pulled her into the crook of his good arm, kissing the top of her hair gently. He touched the swelling at her jaw and shook his head sadly. Then he forced himself to brighten. “So, Eirik, what do you think of my angel?”

Eirik arched a brow. “Angel? I do not know about that. Methinks she has the gentleness of a battering ram.” Rain reached out a foot to give Eirik a playful kick, but he jumped out of the way. Then Eirik added, more seriously, “But after the way she just cared for you, I must believe her claim of being a physician.”

Selik smiled at her as best he could with his cracked and swollen lips. “You should have seen her deliver a babe in Jorvik. She outshines all the culdees at the hospitium. Truly, your sister is a fine healer. And she saved Tykir’s leg from the healer’s knife.”

Rain looked at Selik with surprise. She hadn’t realized that he was so proud of her medical skills. He winked at her, and her heart did flip-flops of sweet love for him.

Eirik questioned Rain about his brother’s injuries and thanked her for her help.

“Where is Ubbi?” Selik asked then.

“Back at the farmstead, caring for the children. He wanted to come, but his arthritis is paining him terribly.”

“Rain, I want you to go back to Northumbria. You should not be here,” Selik said urgently.

“I told you I would come after you,” she teased, nuzzling his neck, clucking over his butchered hair.

“I find no humor in your words, wench. And stop fretting over my bloody hair. It will grow back,” he said, rubbing his chin against the top of her head. “The important thing is that you must go back to Jorvik.”

“I can’t, Selik. I have to meet with the king tomorrow.”

He removed his arm from her shoulders and turned her so he could study her face. “Why?” he asked in a suddenly cold voice.

Rain felt her face flush. “I just want to meet him,” she said lamely.

“You would not dare try to ransom yourself for me,” he said evenly. “Would you?”