‘She will not tell us anything,’ Rurik predicted. ‘She won’t risk her family for our sake.’
‘She won’t know our intentions,’ he answered. ‘I will converse with her about her home and she will not suspect my purpose.’ By the time she learned the truth, it would be too late. She would despise him, but that hardly mattered.
‘And once we get inside the fortress?’ Rurik prompted. ‘What then?’
‘We will give Breanne back to her father and pretend to leave. I will avenge our father’s death, as we planned.’
‘And how will we escape Killcobar? What is your plan to get out?’
‘You will already be gone,’ he answered. ‘Feann will want us to leave, and I will ensure that he believes we obeyed.’
His brother stopped cold and stared at him. ‘Are you trying to die? You’ll be killed the moment you get close to him.’
He faced his brother. ‘Do not doubt that I can kill him. I am not that weak.’
‘You’ve gone weak in the head!’ Rurik exploded. ‘I know you are capable of murdering our enemy, but what I doubt is your ability to survive the fight.’
Alarr only stared at his brother, saying nothing at all. He had never expected to live through the battle. He would do whatever was necessary to gain his vengeance—even if it meant sacrificing his life in return.
His brother let out a low curse. ‘Why would you do this, Alarr? I won’t allow it.’
He picked up his scythe and began walking back towards the others. ‘Because you have no choice.’ He was weary of living his life as less than a man, a broken warrior. Why would it matter if he lost his life? Every man wanted his place in Valhalla, through an honourable death in battle. This was the way, and in surrendering himself, he would avenge those he’d loved.
And Rurik could do nothing to stop him.
Breanne was finding it difficult to concentrate. Although the women had showed her how to strip away the wheat berries and separate the chaff, she was distracted by the sight of Alarr cutting the grain. With each slice of his blade, his shoulders flexed, revealing his strength. His muscles were thick and hardened from years of training. A few scars revealed tests of battle, and she found herself spellbound by his sun-warmed skin. She could almost imagine him drawing near, a walking temptation. There was no denying her fascination with his body, and it annoyed her. He was her captor. He had bound her in ropes and taken her away as his slave.
But he never treated you as a slave, her conscience reminded her. He is bringing you home.
For ransom. It was about silver, she knew. And the sooner her traitorous body accepted it, the better. But she could hardly tear her gaze away from him.
When the afternoon waned, the men put away their scythes and went to the stream to bathe. Caragh helped her gather up a basket of wheat berries, and they walked alongside one another. ‘Thank you for your help,’ the young woman said. ‘Many hands make the task easier.’
Breanne nodded, noticing that Caragh was walking closer to the stream. It fed into a small lake, and the men had stripped naked and were swimming. She forced herself to look away, but Caragh paused a moment.
‘I have spoken to Styr, and we have decided to offer you another choice.’
She didn’t understand what the woman meant. ‘A choice in what?’ When there came no answer, Breanne glanced up.
Caragh studied the men, fixing her attention upon her husband before she looked back at her. ‘You could leave on the morrow with a small escort of my husband’s men,’ she offered. ‘They would take you within a mile of the gates, and you could return home without Alarr.’
The offer was tempting, but she pointed out, ‘We both know he would never allow me to go.’
‘We believe he has another reason for escorting you home,’ Caragh ventured. ‘One that has little to do with a ransom.’
She frowned, waiting for the woman to continue. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The kingdom of Maerr is very powerful. Alarr’s family has no need of silver. Their wealth far surpasses ours.’
A coldness caught Breanne’s spine, and she stared back at Caragh. ‘What are you suggesting?’
The woman shook her head. ‘I don’t know. But there is another reason why Alarr wants to bring you to Killcobar. And ransom is not a part of it—of that I am certain.’
Breanne didn’t know what to believe. ‘I know that he wants your men to accompany him,’ she said slowly, ‘but I thought it was for our protection. It’s not safe for only three of us to approach Feann’s stronghold.’
‘That might be true,’ Caragh said. ‘But were it me, I would try to find out more.’
She didn’t understand what the woman was implying. What else was there? He had purchased her and intended to sell her back to her foster father. ‘Alarr will not tell me anything,’ Breanne argued. ‘I am his slave, not his friend. Or, his hostage, I suppose.’
Caragh only smiled. ‘I have seen the way he looks at you. He desires you, Breanne. And a man’s desire is a good way to get the answers you seek, when his guard is lowered.’
Breanne faltered at the words. Even now, she was aware of Alarr’s constant attention. He never took his gaze from her for a single moment. When she turned back towards the lake, she saw him watching her. His body gleamed with water droplets, and his hair was wet. He pushed back the water from his face, and his gaze fixed upon hers. She felt a sudden tautness in her body, a yearning she did not expect. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Come with me,’ Caragh told her. ‘We will store the grain below ground.’ She led Breanne to a smaller shelter. Inside, a ladder was set inside the earth, revealing an underground storage cairn. Caragh climbed down the ladder and Breanne passed her
