Sword of Vengeance: A Medieval Viking Historical Romance (Warrior's Claim Book 2) by Avery Maitland

Author:Avery Maitland [Maitland, Avery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-30T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 7 ~ Torunn

Bersi had been right to make her leave, she knew that. But that did not stop Torunn’s anger. It surged in her chest, stronger and stronger with every step she took away from the great hall.

She should have been there with her brothers. She should have been able to offer a challenge to Jarl Sigurd’s insults. But what good would it have done? At best they would have laughed at her. Or, she could have started a fight that would have destroyed everything Hallvard had been trying to negotiate between Skaro and Bitra.

He would blame her if anything went awry.

Her cheeks were hot and her fingernails dug into her palms. She could not have sat among those men and kept her mouth shut. Not while Jarl Sigurd insulted their father with every breath he took. He would deserve whatever happened.

“Torunn!”

She had expected Bersi to follow her and did not slow her pace. Despite his limp he could catch up to her easily enough if he wanted to. He had dared to speak to her in public and had touched her in a manner that was not permitted by a slave, and she had not punished him. She could order him to be whipped for his bold actions, and the thought of seeing him stripped to the waist in the courtyard thrilled her just a little.

“Wait!”

Her sudden vision of Bersi on his knees in the dirt awaiting the lash of her whip vanished in an instant. That was not Bersi’s voice, it was Iri.

The gate in front of her house stood open and she walked through it without hesitation. Hallvard had sent him to bring her back to the feast. Iri had always done what Hallvard told him to do. Even as her brother’s advisor he was a coward.

“I am not going back in there,” she snapped as she pushed open the door that led into her house. The fire was burning in the hearth and she allowed herself to smile as she stepped over the threshold and into the large room. The house was pleasant and smelled of baking bread and fresh herbs, and she loved it.

Being the sister of the Jarl meant that she could have such things—a small independence. But that thought chilled her suddenly as she realized she had not considered that such things would have to be sacrificed if she went through with her marriage to Jarl Sigurd.

He did not seem like the type of husband who would allow such freedoms to his women.

She stopped at the edge of the fire, removed her cloak, and pressed her palm to her hot cheek. Iri’s footsteps echoed on the floorboards and she sighed heavily. “What do you want, Iri? I told you I am not going back, so you can go back to Hallvard empty handed.”

“I—”

“What!”

Heldi’s face appeared in the doorway, but Torunn waved her away. She wanted a cup of mead, but she wanted Iri gone first.

“You were right to leave,” he said finally. “Hallvard barely acknowledged your absence.

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