Page 32 of Her Dark Viking


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"But—"

"Stay here. Please." He added the final word as an afterthought, his attempt at reassurance. She appeared to understand because she settled back against the furs, though her eyes never left the small figure of her boy as he followed Gunnar from the room. The Viking paused to drop the curtain again, then led the way back to the table where the stolen items still waited, concealed within the small sack.

Gunnar dismissed Aigneis with a gesture. He wanted to speak with Donald alone. When the servant bustled out of the hall on some errand that took her to another of the cottages, he sat down and beckoned the boy to come closer and stand before him.

Donald chewed on his lip, a nervous gesture Gunnar had seen before, on Mairead's pretty face. He supposed the lad had reason to be anxious, though he did not seem unduly frightened. Gunnar was pleased, he took no pleasure in scaring children, nor helpless women for that matter.

Gunnar reached for the sack and tipped the contents out onto the table. "You know what these items are?"

Donald nodded.

"Tell me about them."

"I... I..."

"Did you steal them, Donald?"

The boy nodded now, his eyes glistening a little despite his best efforts not to cry.

"Can you tell me what it is to steal?"

"It is when you take things which belong to another."

"Thank you. And is it wrong to steal?"

"I... I think so. I am not sure."

"Weylin tells me these items were concealed within your bed. If you are not sure that it is wrong to steal, why did you hide them?"

"I... I thought everyone would be angry. And that they would take my things back."

"Your things? They are not yours. They belong to those you stole them from." Gunnar selected the amulet from among the pile. "I recognise this. It belongs to me."

The lad shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. His features hardened, as though he now considered himself to be the victim of some dire injustice. His mouth worked, and Gunnar knew there was something the boy was bursting to say but he feared retribution.

"Donald, tell me what you are thinking. I will listen, I promise you."

He shook his tawny head. "I cannot."

"You can. Tell me, because I want to understand why you took these things, why you stole my property."

There was a long pause, during which Donald screwed up his small face and stared at the floor before him. Suddenly he lifted his gaze to meet Gunnar’s eyes and blurted it out, "Because youstole it first. You stole it, and it became yours. I took it, so now it is mine."

"I stole it? No, I didn't?—"

"You did. I saw this before, or one like it, in the manor house at Pennglas. You stole it from someone when you raided their village. You must have."

Had he? Gunnar thought back, tried to recall when and where he had acquired the amulet and had to acknowledge that the lad was probably right. Not Pennglas. The only time he ever went there the Viking attackers had taken only slaves, but he had likely seized the piece on some other raid. It was a Celtic design so the boy might well have seen similar items in his homeland.

"So, you believe it is permitted to steal, because that is what Vikings do?"

"No, not really."

Gunnar took a long, deep breath and tried to make sense of what he was hearing. There was some logic to the lad's account, and Gunnar could start to grasp the dilemma here but he felt it was more complex still.

"Why do you say that? Why is stealing not permitted?" He deliberately gentled his voice, sensing that he was close.

"Because people get hurt. They lose things they love, or are killed trying to defend them. It is wrong, but it happens and those who steal are strong. They are safe because they have wealth."