Chapter Two
Flesh and Blood
Noelle had vague memories of playing games in the storage rooms as a child.
But as the years passed, they served a higher purpose—a sanctuary away from her brother’s growing insanity.
Brian’s black reputation drew battle lines across Durham.
Some men respected him, but most feared him. Her father did nothing to intervene.
Sons deserved absolute freedom, not daughters.
She stepped off the landing, surprised to find dozens of torches in floor stands down the main hallway.
Someone had already searched there. Maybe for her or her sire’s gold.
Noelle picked her way along the corridor, relying on the walls to provide the support she needed to keep going.
As she reached the end, she could hear men talking above stairs.
Such a long way up. One step, two, and three, she counted, then climbed.
The closer she came to the top, the more heated the conversation grew.
Heavy footsteps pounded on the other side of the door, making her fidgety—even tempted her to consider a full retreat.
Apparently, the battle was over, but the fight had just begun.
She prayed her brother managed to hold off the aggressors.
Or perhaps he was dead and they were fighting over plunder—indulging in what pleasures her home had left to offer.
She didn’t care about Brian’s fate at the moment.
What she did think about were the women and how these bastards might rape them.
Her body tingled with nervous anticipation and she froze at the door. Cautiously, she cracked it open.
Brian’s distinct voice sounded above the others.
She scowled, while straining to hear exactly what he was saying.
My God! Noelle nearly fainted. Did he really just reveal the locations of her father’s gold and silver?
Caches hidden strategically around the castle in hopes no one would find them.
Pushing the door wide, she managed to sneak across the threshold unnoticed.
She hid in a curtained alcove. From this vantage point, she had a clear view of the long table situated in the center of the room.
Brian sat on a bench by himself facing her direction.
Five men were seated opposite, clearly interrogating him.
Any lingering doubt she had clung to, that might prove her original theory wrong, disappeared.
Judging by their armor and long hair, she knew who these men were.
Noelle studied her brother’s appearance more carefully. Unscathed. Not a single mark on his body that she could see. Maybe he never had the chance to fight. But something didn’t feel right.
A Norse sentry, with a broadsword in his left hand, stood at an angle six feet away.
A second man of equally intimidating proportion paced nearby, keeping his eyes fixed on the table.
Her father’s men were corralled in a corner, and the women were standing together along the east wall.
Much to her delight, John was still alive.
Faithful John, who had protected her and Margaret so gallantly, looked a bit frayed around the edges.
The room grew insufferably hot and she mopped her forehead with her sleeve.
Did her brother just agree to give these pigs three women as bargaining chips for leniency?
Her eyes zigzagged across the table. She considered the loose parchment, ink bottles, and quills.
Bottles of wine, too, at least eight were open.
Her father’s favorite vintage. She recognized the bluish-white labels attached to the necks.
What would he offer next, a place for these animals to bed the women?
Brian shifted in his seat as his eyes casually perused the room.
She shut the curtain, afraid he might discover her.
Noelle blew out a frustrated breath. Slow torture seemed a better fate than witnessing his cowardice.
Bargaining continued and her brother was on his way to securing his freedom.
She peeked out again. One of the negotiators now demanded thirty able-bodied men as compensation for the fighters he had lost during the siege.
“No more than ten of your own perished,” Brian countered. He spoke without conviction.
“Aye,” the Viking confirmed. “One of my men’s lives is worth at least three of yours.”
Noelle’s agitation piqued. She pulled the material wider and stared beyond her brother, at John. Dry blood crusted his face and his left arm was in a sling. Other men were seriously injured, a few resting on pallets on the floor. Even some of the women were nursing wounds.
“This is indecent …” She spoke aloud.
Before she realized what was happening, a pair of hands reached inside and extracted her from the enclosure.
She jerked violently and broke free. The struggle attracted the attention of the men sitting at the table.
She had a few choice words for them; and as for her brother, he deserved the worst of it.
Her first duty was to protect her family’s interests and, if she were given a choice in the matter, she would dispute any stipulations.
Brian walked toward her as the guard manhandled her into custody. “Where were you?” he demanded. “Several men searched the woods and beach—we found Margaret and her companions over an hour ago and brought them back.”
“I’ve been close enough to overhear everything you said.”
Noelle squealed when the guard lifted her off the ground from behind.
She kicked, but it made no difference. The man hugged her closer and laughed.
She wanted to rip his flesh from bone. Instead, she reached between his legs and grabbed a handful of his ballocks.
Twisted so hard every muscle in his body stiffened.
He hollered like a stuck pig and let go.
She landed on her knees, hands barely breaking the fall. As she looked up, guards closed in around her with their backs facing in.
“Murderers—thieves!” she screamed. Laughter rolled around her, and much to her annoyance, this all seemed nothing more than a form of entertainment for them.
She stood and paced like a caged animal, couldn’t see beyond the ring of bodies. But she knew where Brian waited and prayed for him to intervene on her behalf.
He didn’t.
“Where are my sisters?” She let her anger take hold.
“Margaret is upstairs,” he replied. “I told you all the women were accounted for, save you. Now quit this foolishness and act like a proper lady.”
What absurdity. We are prisoners in our own home and at the mercy of wicked interlopers, and he dares to command me to act like a lady?
“I despise you,” she hissed.
He chuckled.
She moved around the ring and shoved at the men with all her might. Immoveable bastards … “Get out of my way!” she demanded through clenched teeth, pounding a soldier’s back with her fists.
“Cease the dramatics or I’ll be forced to restrain you,” her brother threatened.
He would do it. But she didn’t feel like acting like a lady just now. For once, she actually wanted to be more like him and crack skulls. But if she dared strike one of these brutes in the head, the only thing that would break would be her own tiny bones.
“Let me through.”
Surprisingly, two guards stepped aside.
“Is this your idea of defending our home?” she asked, breathless.
“Look around you,” Brian said much too flippantly for comfort, spinning with his arms outstretched. “Are the walls standing? Are father’s men and servants alive? I made a conscious decision to protect our home and assets. Live with it.”
He clasped his hands behind his back.
Ah, the infamous stance he takes after he decides he’s made a brilliant point in an argument and considers the discussion closed.
She resented the fact that she was going to be forced to spend more than a minute in his presence.
Brian reminded her of a squawking gosling running unrestrained.
Amused by this illustration, she laughed out loud.
He frowned disapprovingly and raised his hand to silence her.
“You’d sacrifice thirty of our men to these heathens?” Noelle asked.
“Before you so rudely interrupted our negotiations, I decided to reject that particular demand.”
“Oh.” She nodded approval. It troubled her to see her people forced to sit in the same room with these savages, witnessing these demoralizing proceedings. “Where is Ophelia?”
Brian coughed, then motioned her away.
“Did I ask something so personal you refuse to answer me in public?” She stared suspiciously. And to think he’s actually admired in the northlands by some men.
“This is a delicate matter.” He gripped her right arm and dragged her further away from earshot. The Norse seemed unconcerned, but still kept watch.
He stopped near an east-facing window. Distressed over what he might say, Noelle blocked him out of her mind for a moment and prepared for the worst. She stared into the darkness outside. Thinly threaded moonlight reflected off the water.
She faced him. “All I want to know is where Ophelia is. Whatever else you decide is your own business. Is she in her room or in the kitchen with the servants?”
Peace could never be achieved between them.
No matter what he did or how he accomplished it, Brian always looked out for himself first. Some men were honored in their lifetimes for observing laws of chivalry.
Others were revered for displaying talent as diplomats or distinguishing themselves on the battlefield.
In any of these ways, a man gains the respect of his peerage.
Not Brian. He displayed no such talent, but his cunning was of an evil sort. Like the serpent’s in Eden.
His gaze traveled up her body and rested on her face. “Ophelia …” His body language suggested the worst. He didn’t need to finish his calculated lies, she shrieked.