Page 68 of Merciful Salvation

Erling spread his arms. “We don’t live by the same rules. Honor is something boys dream about, Jarl McNally. I live to win. And my shoulder is still healing—I haven’t the strength to fight you. Even if I did,” he said, gesturing. “Why should I dirty my hands?”

Aaron didn’t bother answering, but spun around, slicing through the hip of the nameless rider who helped lead him into this ambush. The man shrieked in pain as he hit the ground. With lightening quick reflexes, Aaron’s steel blocked a poorly executed strike by Dillingr. Then their blades locked. Aaron roared and booted him in the ribs, forcing the arsehole backward a few feet.

“There’s no escape for you, Aaron,” Erling mocked. “Give up andI’ll let you live long enough to watch me bed your beautiful wife.”

Just then, a raven crowed. Another blasted sign from the gods. Holding his sword firmly in both hands, Aaron rushed forward, impaling his opponent through the center of his chest. The crunch of cartilage and bone made him smile.

“Go toHel,” Aaron fumed, blood oozing from the corners of Dillingr’s mouth.

Something hard and solid slammed into the back of Aaron’s head. Sharp pain shot through his skull. He staggered forward, his eyesight blurry, then he dropped to his knees. “Kara.” She couldn’t hear him, but thank Odin she was safe.

“Don’t worry.” Erling towered over him. “She’ll be well taken care of, the same way you provided for my sister.”

Sister?Confusion rolled in as quickly as thick fog. Then darkness overtook him.

Chapter Twenty

Ignited

Jarl Sigurdsson clearedthe room after Amund arrived with a handful of warriors. Kara recognized them from her brief visit to her husband’s home. As much as she respected her host, she couldn’t go up to her bedchamber and ignore the fact that Aaron hadn’t sent word to her since he’d left. No, she had the right to stay—or linger on the stairs.

“We’ve searched north and east, milord,” Amund reported. “There’s no sign of Jarl McNally or the men he rode with. I also sent word to Jarl Alfgeir. He didn’t invite my master to go hunting.”

“Sit,” Tyr directed. “How long has he been missing?”

“He intended to return for the eventide meal.”

Kara’s mind whirled—her heart pounding frantically. “I must find him,” she muttered to herself.

Tyr raked his fingers through his beard. “Hours.” He stood and started pacing. “My cousin doesn’t miss a meal. Nor would he leave for an extended period of time with his new bride waiting abovestairs. There’s no one in the Trondelag seeking vengeance and Jarl Erik the Bald is days away.” He stopped abruptly. “If Aaron didn’t kill Erling Solheim, he may be to blame.”

The spoken name obliterated Kara’s resolve. “No!” she screamed.

Tyr looked up. “Come here.”

Heavy-hearted, she stomped down the steps.

Amund stood as soon as he saw her. “Milady.” He bowed.

“Save the formalities for another day,” she mused. “I demand to know everything—I deserve to know—Aaron is my husband.”

Tyr grimaced. “I understand the urgency you feel.”

“No, Jarl Sigurdsson,” she retorted. “You don’t.” Overcome with fear and something akin to rage, Kara didn’t have the patience for coddling. “I’ve cut a man down in battle, shed blood. I’ll be treated as an equal here, not as a simpering wife.”

“But you are a wife,” Tyr reminded her.

“Does that mean I’m expected to wait behind closed doors weeping, when I could be searching for Aaron alongside these men? As long as there is breath in my body, I refuse to stay here.”

“I’ll chain you to a stake in the cellar,” Tyr warned, his eyes fiery coals. “I begin to see what my cousin meant when he claimed you were trouble. I’ll gently remind you, Lady Kara, this isn’t Lagenheim. You pleaded for sanctuary. I gave it.”

“I’m not a prisoner.”

Tyr edged closer. More monolithic than his cousin, the jarl’sclose proximity made her shudder. “Oh, but you are.”

She folded her arms over her stomach. Better to acquiesce, than argue. But everything she loved was at stake—damn Tyr’s overprotectiveness—curse Erling Solheim to the darkest regions ofHelif he lived. She knew the evil that man was capable of, having experienced his malevolence. “Are you aware of my history with Erling Solheim, milord?” She’d risk his displeasure once more.

“Fully aware,” he answered. “And I’m here to remind you of what your husband said before—men aren’t permitted to fight women in the real world.”