Page 4 of Claimed By the Viking

Where were they now? Taken by the sea?

If so, why had the gods spared him? Merely to amuse themselves?

“Please, don’t fret,” she soothed. “I shan’t let my mother hurt you… nor anyone else.”

“What does it matter!” Viggo’s wretchedness spoke for him. “I’m useless. No better than a lame animal.” He dropped his hands to his sides. There was no point in fighting. Better that he be put out of his misery than live in such humiliation.

“No.” The woman entreated. “Not useless.Farfrom useless. Freyja has sent you here for a greater purpose.”

He grimaced. “The gods have abandoned me.” Despite his constant efforts and libations, the divine had never been kind to him. He saw no reason for the goddess to have bestowed him with any special intent. The woman said so only to placate him.

“I know it can seem that way, but the gods are always here,” she consoled. “They love us.”

Love?‘Twas an absurdity.

He’d shared such with his brothers, but they’d passed into the next realm, leaving him to battle on alone. There was comradery among the men in the mines, but that companionship was far from what he’d call love.

He jolted as gentle fingertips grazed his forearm, tensing at the uninvited touch. When had she come close enough to lay ahand on him, and how had he not heard her movement? If he couldn’t even discern the deeds of one woman, what purpose could he possibly have?

None.The answer burned in his mind.

“You’re hurt.” Her voice trembled as though she, too, had something to fear. “I shall nurse you.”

“I’m cursed.” He loathed his self-pitying tone, but what good was a man without sight? He’d never be able to farm the land nor repay his jarl.

“Things seem bleak.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “But I pray they will improve. You shall see again, I’m convinced.”

“Get away from him, Signy!” There was a gruff shout. “He’s a madman!”

“He isn’t mad. Only injured and frightened.”

He felt the brush of skirts as she stood, addressing the woman who’d been there before.

“Is this the one you say is dangerous?” Another female voice came from farther off.

“He was shouting, going berserk!” said the first. “His bloodied face is the result of his frenzy. He can’t stay here.”

Other voices spoke, each drowning out the next, although their meaning was clear. They didn’t trust him. They wanted him gone.

He could hardly blame them.

He barely trusted himself.

He was abandoned.

Damned.

Burying his head in his hands, he prayed that his end would be quick.

The shouts grew louder until the younger woman beside him raised her voice. “You shall do him no harm! He was given to me.”

Given to her?What does she mean?

It was disconcerting to be spoken of as though he wasn’t even there, but he lacked the will to object. He was doomed, regardless.

“You mean to care for him still?” A new voice carried over the others, one with the cadence of an elder.

“I do.” Once more, the young woman beside him spoke. “I accept him on the same terms he was offered to me, Bothild.”

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