Magnar by Mary Morgan

Author:Mary Morgan
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Medieval
Published: 2020-08-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

As foretold, Gunnar continued with his relentless objections over Magnar wasting costly travel time. The man snapped, cursed, and gave scathing looks at him at each opportunity. Thankfully, he directed his grumblings toward Magnar and not within hearing of Elspeth. When Gunnar pointed to the setting sun, he raised his fist at him for not reaching the first hill before Steinn.

Magnar ignored the man completely.

His thoughts kept returning to his flame-haired wife—images that had him hard all over again. He dared not glance over his shoulder at her. She would only incite his lustful beast further.

He licked his lips, recalling her ivory, smooth curves entering the stream. Aye, he made a vow not to take her, but that did not mean he would not spare a glance at his wife’s naked form whenever he could. It had taken his utmost control not to step into the water and join her. And more restraint not to watch and bring himself to pleasure. Especially when she’d bent over and splashed water over her taut skin.

Scrubbing a hand vigorously over his face, he attempted to banish the lustful images.

A gentle breeze blew past him, sweeping the leaves around the travelers. His wolf sensed the intruder first and lifted his head. Magnar slowed his horse and sniffed the air. With deft skill, he removed his axe from the sheath attached to the side of his horse and brought it across his thighs.

Rorik flanked his left and kept a slow and steady stride with him. “You ken there is another out there.”

“Aye.” A tremor of unease settled within Magnar. There was only one wolf not within the brotherhood. Thorfinn!

“Are you worried?” asked Rorik quietly.

Magnar shrugged, attempting to ease the tension across his shoulders. “This makes my quest to find my brother much easier. He has come to us.”

His other men slowed their pace but remained silent. Magnar understood they had sensed this new wolf. Each lifted their heads and inhaled deeply. Ivar let out a low growl.

They continued on their subdued, easy gallop across the landscape.

Rorik rubbed a hand over his chin. “You ken what this means?”

Curling his lip in disgust, Magnar glanced sharply at his friend. “He is a spy for Baardsen.”

“Or he is with others,” suggested Rorik, scanning the dense trees that hugged the hillside.

“Nae,” argued Magnar, his fingers tightening on his axe. “Clearly, Thorfinn was the one who followed Elspeth to us—at Castle Vargr. ’Tis what makes sense. He spies in his wolf form for the enemy.”

“What do you propose we do?” asked Rorik, returning his gaze to Magnar.

Frustration seethed inside Magnar. Unprepared for this latest interruption on their journey, he spat out a curse and surveyed the region south of Steinn. If they traveled another path, they would be delayed one more day. He kept his sight fixed on their original path. “We shall continue to the first hill. Inform Ivar and Gunnar that they will leave at midnight for Steinn with my terms and those of King William’s to surrender the castle and leave.

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