The Viking's Chosen (Clan Hakon #1)

Then she turned those fierce eyes on me. I struggled to keep from smiling at her, but that would only enrage Cathal more. So instead I remained motionless, holding her gaze, silently willing her to understand my intentions. I needn’t have worried. I wasn’t yet sure if she cared that I was the one guarding her, but it was obvious she did not want to be alone with Cathal.

“My father gave you orders to protect me. You cannot do that if you are not with me. So my little female brain deduces that you must stay here to obey your king’s command.”

Cathal was glaring at Allete. She simply turned and returned his stare. She was not about to back down. I was proud of her; she had the heart of a warrior. I was also worried for her. Her betrothed did not handle confrontation well. He would not let the slight go, even if he was momentarily bested.

Cathal stepped closer to her and wrapped his hand around her arm. His grip was tight and his manner possessive. He jerked her forward, and Brant and I moved to follow them. When he saw our intent, he turned to stare daggers at us. The contempt in his gaze would have made a lesser man tremble. But it simply made me more eager to have his neck at the end of my sword.

“Proper etiquette dictates that chaperones remain sixteen yards behind their charges, unseen and unheard. You will abide by your king’s rules.”

I wanted to refuse. But as soon as Cathal had turned away, Allete brought her arm behind her back and rocked her finger back and forth as if she were reprimanding a child. She did not want me to interfere. My jaw clenched as I stood still, watching them get farther and farther away.

“Dammit,” I bit out. “How can I protect her if she is that far away?” I slung my hand out in the direction Allete and Cathal were walking.

Brant chuckled lightly. “Would you carry her instead?” he whispered.

I growled in response.

Brant nudged me. “That is far enough. We can proceed.”

My body was tense and my movements rigid as I watched Cathal wrap an arm around Allete’s waist and pull her into his body.

“Don’t forget hanging him from the back of a skeid,” Brant said conversationally.

“What?” I was momentarily taken aback.

“The skeid. One of my personal favorites. I can see you are thinking of ways to dismember the man. Hanging a scoundrel from the back of the skeid with his torso above water and letting the fish do their work. That has always been one of my personal favorites. I don’t want you to forget it,” Brant said, humor coloring his voice.

“Good point,” I responded. “Victims stay conscious during most of that one. All the better to hear his screams …”

For the next hour, we walked behind the couple as they meandered around the castle grounds. Apparently, Magnus’ man had been captured or had escaped. We heard no further commotion coming from anywhere in the castle. When the pair came to a shady grove, Cathal held up his hand, motioning us to stop. I watched as he leaned into Allete, his lips touching her ear as he spoke. His eyes were on me the entire time he whispered to her. I could tell he was issuing a blatant challenge to me. That was not a wise move.

When he stepped back, Allete turned and began walking toward us. Her face was pinched, and she was wringing her hands in front of her. My attention was drawn to movement behind her, and I saw Cathal’s men suddenly walk away toward the castle. Allete stopped about three feet from us. Her eyes seemed to bounce around, landing everywhere but our faces.

“I…” Her lips trembled slightly, but then she took a deep breath and lifted her chin. She clasped her hands together in front of her, halting their fidgeting. “Cathal is sending for Beatrice. She can chaperone us while we sit and have our noon meal. You both may go take your breaks as well. We will be here in view of people, and we will have a chaperone.”

“Allete,” I said using the voice that I used on my men when I wanted them to give me their immediate attention. “Look at me.” When she stopped looking around but still did not raise her eyes to mine I added, “Now.” She was so nervous that she did not even notice I had used her name instead of addressing her as my superior.

Her head shot up as irritation replaced the timidity she had previously been expressing, which was exactly what I wanted to happen.

“What?” she snapped back.

“Are you ordering us to leave? Is that what you really want, or is Cathal making you?”

“Of course, he is not making me. I have my own mind.”

“I know that you do. And I see no sense in this action. Which means he must be threatening you somehow,” I said, leaning forward slightly so I could see her pupils. The eyes revealed so much about a person, sometimes more than words.

“I would not belittle myself in such a way. Not to protect myself from harm.” Her voice fluctuated a small amount when she said the word “myself’. She was trying to communicate something.

She turned, looking back at Cathal, and then spoke. “Please take your leave. Beatrice has arrived, and Cathal’s men have brought the food.”

Before I could argue, she turned and walked away. Her steps were slow and measured, almost as if she was walking to the gallows to be hung. It ripped my heart to pieces to be unable to protect her. I had to stand by like a damn spectator while the woman destined to be mine was verbally and physically abused.

When Allete reached Cathal, she glanced over shoulder. Seeing us still standing there, she motioned for us to leave, her face betraying no emotion. She was blank, as if a colorful canvas had been ripped away and a fresh one put in its place. I knew that if Allete married Cathal, her blank canvas would be replaced with muted grays and deep blacks. The colorful young lady I was coming to know would be gone forever.

“We must go now,” said Brant. “That girl with Allete seems intelligent. He will not try anything with a witness around, and we must not disobey orders. Do you want to give Cathal an excuse to have us replaced? Because disobedience would certainly be sufficient grounds.”

My soul was screaming at me to go after her. I just did not know how to do that without getting myself beheaded. Reluctantly, I grunted my agreement.

Brant began walking, and I followed, but my boots felt as if they had a mind of their own, struggling with every step to turn and rush back to her. I felt a great weight pressing on my shoulders as well, impending my movement even more. But Brant was not having it. He placed his hand on my back, practically shoving me along beside him.

“Don’t make this any worse on yourself. Besides, this will give us a chance to check and see how the other men are doing,” Brant suggested.