Chapter Sixteen
Elena opened the door to her home and Ragnar passed Matheus to her. His head lay against her shoulder as she balanced the boy against her hip. When they entered, the darkness of the interior was broken only by the soft glow of coals on the hearth.
“Put the boy to bed,” Ragnar ordered. “I want to look around outside to make certain it’s safe.” His hand cupped her chin and he leaned in close, his mouth near her ear. “Bar the door behind me, and I’ll return soon.”
Heat prickled across her skin at the words, but Elena gave him no answer.
She closed the door and lowered the bar, her thoughts in a tangle of confusion.
She’d apologized for seducing Ragnar when the truth was, she wasn’t sorry at all.
She’d reveled in the lovemaking, perhaps because it had been so forbidden.
The feelings he’d stirred inside her had been overwhelming, and Elena admitted to herself that she’d never felt like that with Styr.
She couldn’t put a name to her feelings for Ragnar. Although it had only been a few weeks since she’d divorced her husband, her heart knew that it was different with this man.
She’d always been close to him in a way she hadn’t been with Styr.
She could voice any thought, any fear, without feeling foolish.
Comparing the two of them, she preferred Ragnar—and that knowledge frightened her.
It was happening too fast, and she couldn’t tell if her reactions were born of lust…
or feelings that had always been there, with a man who understood her in a way Styr never had.
The flare of an oil lamp caught her attention and Elena froze. “Who’s there?” The hair on her scalp stood on end and she shifted her grip to the dagger at her waist.
“You’re not going to take my son from me,” came a voice from the far side of her home.
Elena turned in horror to see Matheus’s father emerging with a blade in his hands. She’d been too trusting, never suspecting that an intruder might already be inside.
“Leave my home,” she ordered, raising her voice louder in the hopes Ragnar would hear. She didn’t dare let go of Matheus, for fear that the boy’s father would try to take him.
“You’re going to pay me for him,” the man insisted. “With gold, or—” His gaze passed over her breasts. “By another means.”
Elena lowered Matheus from her arms, shielding him with her own body. In his ear, she whispered, “Go and fetch Ragnar.”
Instead of fleeing, the child went to sit in a corner, running his fingers over the crevices in the wood. He retreated inwardly, not looking at her or his father. Likely he didn’t understand what was happening.
God help them both.
“Ragnar!” Elena cried out. She started toward the door, but the man gripped her wrist and jerked her back. Clamping his dirty hand over her mouth, he said, “Your man won’t be coming for you. My friends have seen to that.”
Elena tried to scream, but his palm muffled any sounds she made. She fought against him, kicking and twisting her body. He struck her across the ear and she saw stars, the room blurring all around her.
She struggled to remain conscious when she dropped to her knees.
There was a spear on the far side of the room, if she could only reach it.
The man kept his hand over her mouth and she couldn’t shout to Matheus or anyone else.
Though she tried to bite down on his fingers, his strength made it impossible.
He reached for her skirts and her rage erupted.
No. She would not allow this man to rape her or make her a victim in her own home.
Tangling her feet in his, she used her body weight to knock him backward. The momentary assault freed her voice, and she cried out for Ragnar, screaming as loudly as she could.
The man scrambled to his feet, but Elena brought a stool down on his head. She lunged for the spear. When she seized it, the man reached for Matheus instead.
A white-hot anger controlled her now, and she didn’t care whether this man lived or died. Elena gripped the spear, wondering how she could wield it without striking the boy.
“Do you even know how to use that?” he taunted.
“I’ll pierce your heart with it,” she responded, tightening her hold on the weapon.
“Why would you want my son?” the man demanded. “He’s lacking in brains, and his mother should have killed him at birth.”
“If he means so little to you, then you should be glad that I’ve offered to take care of him.”
“Not until I have my price.” He gripped the boy’s throat and Elena saw the terror in Matheus’s eyes. Though the boy couldn’t speak, he understood the danger. His face was white, and his expression pleaded with her for help.
“I’ve been watching you over the past few days,” the man said smoothly. “Waiting for the right moment to slip inside. When he wouldn’t be there.”
His gaze moved to the wall where Matheus had been smearing mud. The boy’s violent screams suddenly made sense. He must have caught a glimpse of his father tonight, when he was trying to block out the crevices in the wood.
Where was Ragnar? She couldn’t understand why he hadn’t broken the door down after she’d screamed. And what did the man mean, Your man won’t be coming for you? Was he dead? Had others attacked him?
Elena glanced at the door, but it was still barred. Though she didn’t want to take her eyes off the man, she had to get help. In one swift motion, she darted toward the door and raised the bar, throwing it open.
To her relief, Ragnar was already moving in, his sword drawn. Thank the gods.
Blood was streaming down his face, and though she didn’t know what had happened to him, he was alive. Elena moved to the side but was taken by surprise when her attacker let go of Matheus and seized her instead. She was helpless to move when the point of the spear jammed against her throat.
“You’re going to leave her to me, or I’ll kill her before you can take another step,” the man warned Ragnar.
Elena couldn’t breathe, but in Ragnar’s eyes she saw a man bent upon murder. He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on bringing down their enemy. Matheus was behind them and she couldn’t tell if he was out of harm’s way or not.
Ragnar remained motionless, but he never surrendered his drawn sword. Instead, he held it poised to strike. His other hand moved to a pouch at his waist.
“Was it silver you wanted?”
Elena couldn’t see her attacker’s face, but his grip tightened. “Throw it to the ground and leave.”
“I’ll only leave when she comes with me. And the boy.” Ragnar’s voice was deadly calm, his eyes hard.
“That won’t happen.”
Elena sensed the madness in his words, that this man would not give up his claim upon the boy. He might insist upon payment, but it wouldn’t end with coins. He would continue to make demands, endangering the boy. There was no reasoning with him.
She closed her eyes, knowing Ragnar would strike him down. Her life was at stake, but if Ragnar didn’t act, this man would kill her after he’d finished with her.
Do it, she begged silently.
She kept her eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the inevitable strike.
“No!” she heard Ragnar yell.
Her eyes flew open, and a gasp resounded from her attacker. The point of the spear thrust and Elena cried out, feeling harsh pain at her throat.
Seconds later, the man fell to the ground. Blood poured from his back and she turned to see Matheus holding his father’s own blade. Tears flowed down the boy’s face, and his hands were shaking as he dropped the knife.
By the gods, not this. Matheus had killed his own father to save her.
“It’s all right,” Elena murmured to him. “You can put the knife down. I’m all right.”
The boy obeyed, sobbing as he threw himself into her arms. It was the first show of affection he’d ever given, and she wept against him. She’d never known that he would defend her or recognize that she’d wanted to help him. She kept speaking words of comfort, soothing him as she held Matheus close.
He understood that she wanted to keep him safe, that she wanted to be a mother to him. Though she’d only had him a short time, he’d known she would not harm him. Her heart broke for the suffering he must have endured at the hands of his parents.
But it was over now.
Ragnar stood by the door, his sword still in hand. She raised her wet eyes to his, but there was tension in his expression. He walked toward them, and Elena stood straighter, still holding Matheus against her.
“Are you all right?” he asked, tilting her chin back to see the cut.
Elena nodded. “It’s not deep,” she reassured him.
Ragnar found a cloth and wiped the blood away.
“He could have killed you.” His voice was heavy, while his touch remained gentle.
Elena went motionless, caught up in the way he stared at her. She breathed in the scent of him and the urge came over her to bring his mouth down to hers.,“No, he couldn’t have. You were there to defend me,” she said.
But when she tried to embrace Ragnar, he held back, keeping a stoic distance.
Something was troubling him, but he wouldn’t say what it was.
Did he blame himself for the attack? Neither of them could have known that Matheus’s father had slipped inside while they were gone. She didn’t fault Ragnar at all.
But seeing a dead body on her floor didn’t make the idea of staying here appealing. Not only did this house hold the memories of her failed pregnancy and ended marriage…now there was death as well. She wanted to start over, someplace where she could make a new beginning.
“I don’t want to stay in Dubh Linn anymore,” she confessed to Ragnar, opening the door to go outside.
With Matheus’s hand in hers, she led them away from the man’s body.
“I want to leave this place.” She hardly cared where, as long as there were no memories of the past and Ragnar accompanied her.
“Can you still get a boat?” She held Matheus at her side and the boy buried his face against her gown.
“In the morning, we’ll find a ship,” Ragnar promised.