Page 33 of Her Celtic Captor
She tilted her chin up and drew the shreds of her dignity about her as they descended into the coastal town.
The Celt headedfor the small fishing vessel which was moored at a distance from the rest. Brynhild recognised the craft at once. It was owned by Eileifr, one of Ulfric's own karls and unless she was very much mistaken that was he, seated on the deck as though he was expecting them. The fisherman got to his feet at their approach and leapt onto the quay.
"Eiliefr?" Taranc murmured the name, keeping his voice low so as not to alert others. Their mare's hooves were still muffled and although Brynhild cast her gaze wildly from left to right she saw no one else. No matter, Eileifr was her brother's man and he would have to do.
"You know me?" she demanded.
"Aye, lady," confirmed the fisherman, though his eyes were on Taranc.
"All is in readiness? We may leave at once?" Taranc addressed Eiliefr, and both ignored Brynhild.
"Aye, within minutes. You have the money?"
"I do." Taranc reached into the saddle bag and withdrew a purse. Coins jangled within.
"Ten pieces of silver, the Jarl said."
"It is all there. You may count it." Taranc tossed the purse to the man who tipped the contents into his hand.
Seemingly satisfied, he nodded once to the Celt. "Bring her aboard. We shall be away before first light."
Taranc dismounted from the horse and reached up to help Brynhild down. Stunned, she slid down into his arms, then staggered on the rough cobbles of the quayside.
What was happening?The man said he knew her, yet was still prepared to see her taken aboard his fishing vessel by an escaping slave and carried away from these shores. Worse, he had beenpaidto take them, and the Jarl was aware of the bargain.
Ten pieces of silver, the Jarl said.At last it all fell into place.
Ulfric had made this deal. He had provided the payment, and no doubt the rest—supplies, horse, his own cloak! There had been no other accomplice. In all likelihood, there had been no escape, really, since Ulfric had known all along what was intended and Taranc had his permission to be here in Hafrsfjord, embarking on the voyage home.
But the Celt had no right to abduct her. That was impossible and she would die before she would go meekly with him. Whatever deal had been struck between her brother and this man, Ulfric would never have countenanced such disloyalty, such wickedness. They had quarrelled lately, that was true, but he was her brother and he loved her. Surely Eileifr must realise that this was all wrong.
She turned to the fisherman. "You must help me. My brother will reward you, he?—"
Eileifr had the grace to shuffle before her and found it necessary to inspect his shoes most carefully, but he made nomove to come to her aid. The karl dropped the coins back into the purse and tied it to his belt, then vaulted back over the rail to land on the deck of his boat. "If you can manage the lady, I shall get us under way. The tide is good, and the wind fair. We will make good time."
"But—"
Brynhild's protest was cut off as Taranc stepped forward.Was that compassion she detected in his green-eyed gaze? Why? Why should he feel sorry for her?
Taranc took her elbow and urged her toward the boat. "I shall lift you aboard, lady. Do not worry, I shall not drop you."
"No!" She shook off his hand and backed away. "My brother will kill you for this. Both of you. Are you quite mad?"
"Best you keep her quiet. The Jarl wants no fuss. He was most definite on that. Get her away under cover of darkness, he said, and no one else is to know." Eileifr busied himself loosening ropes in readiness for setting sail. "Let's not be wasting time now."
Brynhild gaped, open-mouthed as the full, horrific reality of her situation finally dawned. Ulfrichadplanned this, all of it. Her brother had arranged everything. No wonder their departure from Skarthveit had all seemed so easy for this Celt, so well-prepared. Her disappearance had probably not even been discovered yet, and she could be certain that Ulfric would not be sending men galloping in the direction of Hafrsfjord to rescue her. He would direct the search elsewhere whilst she was spirited away with his full knowledge and consent.
She would never see her home again. Her family, her nephew... Would they even know what had happened to her? Could she ever get word to those she loved and who would grieve for her?
She backed away from Taranc, but he pursued her. She turned to run, but he was faster. He slung her over his shoulderand stepped over the rail onto the roiling deck, then set her on the bench in the stern of the boat. "It is a shock, I know. We shall talk later. For now, you are to sit here and keep still." He did not even wait for her response before he strode the length of the vessel to lend his assistance to Eiliefr's efforts. In moments the craft would be away, and with it her last hope of seeing those she loved again would be gone.
Brynhild glanced over her shoulder. The quay was already three or four feet away, but surely she could leap that distance. Taranc was keen to be out of the port before the town awoke, he would not come back for her, especially if she was standing in the middle of the harbour screaming fit to rouse the dead. She wasted no further time contemplating the matter, every second increased the distance she would have to jump to reach safety. Taranc's back was turned, she could do this.
Brynhild got to her feet and stood on the bench. From there it took a large stride to bring her teetering onto the rail at the bow. She balanced precariously for a moment as the craft dipped and rocked under her feet. Could she?
A shout behind her decided the matter. She bent her knees and launched herself for the receding shore.
She might have made it. Brynhild was convinced she would have made it but for the sudden lurch of the boat which meant she not only had to jump a distance of several feet, but she had to gain something in height also. It was too much, and she hit the water with a resounding splash.
