Read Online My Lord Viking by Jo Ann Ferguson - Free Book Online Page B

moaned.  
          “Do not worry about your enemies,” she continued as he looked away.   “I shall make certain that you are not left alone again until you can defend yourself.   If you would agree to go to the house...”
          “You see the damage here.   Think what Kortsson would do in your father’s house where there are no warriors.   The blood I drew from him before he fled would become a river as he slew your family.   At least he knows I am here and not within your father’s house.”
          “I shall make every effort to see that you are safe.   There will be someone with you always, and I shall make sure that Jack has a gun.”
          “A what?”
          “A weapon that expels a ball of lead at a high speed.”
          He smiled grimly.   “I would like to see this weapon, but I doubt you will trust me enough to do that before you turn me over to your king.”
          “Why would I do that?”
          He locked eyes with her, and she nearly recoiled from his fury.   “Because I am of the Norrfoolk and you are of Britannia.”
          “ Norfolk is part of England .   It is—”
          “Not Norfolk .   Norrfoolk .”
          Linnea frowned.   His pronunciation of the two words was just about the same, but by straining she heard the slight difference.   “What is Norrfoolk ?”
          “You don’t know?”   His laugh was taut.   “Do you think me a daari that I would believe that?”
          “What is a daari ?”
          “I told you before.   It means a fool.”
          “Would you speak English, for heaven’s sake?”
          “I do not intend to make your interrogation of me simple, my lady.   I will not be your way of gaining favor with your king.”   He arched one tawny brow.   “Now I understand why you wish to safeguard me from my blood-enemy.   The prestige you gain your clan by turning me over to the king will be great.”
          She laughed as icily as he had.   “Keep talking like that, and I will believe you are as mad as the king.”
          “Do not compare me to that cur.”   He pushed himself up to sit, although his bronzed face became even grayer with pain.   “Ask me what you will, my lady, but know that, as a Norrfoolk , I shall never bow my head to King Ethelred.”
          “Ethelred?”   She gulped, for the first time believing he might be suffering from damage to his mind.   “Mr. Bjornsson, the king’s name is George, although his son, the Prince Regent, oversees England now.”
          “Do not attempt to baffle me with lies.”   His eyes narrowed.   “I should have guessed no Englishman or woman would hold fast to a pledge to be honest.   But I had guessed you would choose to lie about something that is harder to prove than who claims England ’s throne.”
          “I am not lying!”
          “Ethelred has no son named George.”
          “No, of course not.   Ethelred was king nearly a thousand years ago.”
          “Ethelred is king now.”
          “You are mistaken.”
          He tore back the sleeve on his left arm to reveal a gold amulet on the firm muscles above his bandaged elbow.   “I swear by Thor’s hammer that I speak the truth.”
          “Thor’s hammer?” she whispered as she looked from his steady gaze to the amulet that was as broad as her palm.   Swallowing hard, she reached out a trembling finger to touch the intricately carved gold band that must be worth as much as one of the fine race horses her brother Kenneth bred.  
          His hand clamped her finger against the gold.   Although his face twisted with pain, he did not let her draw away from his splinted arm.  
          “Release me,” she ordered.
          “By Thor’s hammer, I vow that I shall not until you tell me why you are being false about the truth you know as well as I do.   Ethelred is