Read Online Viking: Legends of the North: A Limited Edition Boxed Set by Tanya Anne Crosby, Miriam Minger, Shelly Thacker, Glynnis Campbell - Free Book Online
Tags: Historical Romance
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Mama?”
“Because Wilfred believed that women were made to be the servants of men, and she wanted him to know exactly who was getting the better of him.”
“What did he say when he saw who she was?”
“He called her bad names.”
“What bad names?”
“They’re so bad, I can’t repeat them.”
Brandr smiled at that.
“But the other brothers—Eldred, Grimbol, and Osbern—were as angry as bees when they found out they’d been beaten by their own sister. So they yelled at Wilfred to clout her soundly.”
“Oh, nay, Mama.”
“But try as he might, Wilfred couldn’t lay a hand on her, for she was nimble and strong. You see, while her brothers had lain lazily about, boasting of their skills, she’d spent long hours practicing. She eventually managed to smack his arse with the flat of her sword and sent him crashing into his other brothers.”
Kimbery laughed long and hard. “Smack his arse!”
The woman couldn’t help but laugh along, which made Brandr grin.
“Aye. And when she’d defeated them all, a servant who’d seen the entire battle ran to tell their father. Her father was so proud of her, he gave her a beautiful jeweled sword as a prize, saying that it was she who should rightfully inherit his lands.”
A strange shiver ran up Brandr’s spine. He glanced at the jeweled sword in the corner. Could the story be true? Pictish women were said to be able to handle a blade. But could she possibly be the intrepid swordswoman in the story? Surely not. Surely the tale was a work of imagination. After all, the heroine of her story had become a landed heiress. This woman lived in a humble hovel.
“Did she live happily ever after, Mama?”
There was a hesitation. “Oh, I’m sure she did.”
“Mama,” Kimbery announced, “I want a sword.”
“You have a sword.”
Brandr raised a brow. The little girl had a sword?
“Not a wooden sword. A real sword,” Kimbery said.
“When you’re older.”
“And I want brothers to fight with,” she added.
“That I can’t promise you.”
“I want to be a warrior just like the lady in the story.”
Her mother chuckled. “You’ll be twice as good as the lady in the story.”
“Mama, can we practice sparring?”
“Tomorrow,” she promised, “but only if you get a good night’s rest.”
After she finished tucking in her daughter, the woman emerged again. Brandr quickly sized her up and decided the story couldn’t be true. She might be able to wield a blade, but no sweet-faced maid could possibly vanquish four seasoned warriors.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Brandr woke with a face full of sheep. He sputtered and reared back as far as he could, which wasn’t far, since he was on a short leash.
“Caimbeul likes you,” Kimbery informed him.
He grimaced as the smell of the ewe hit him full force. “Gah!”
“Don’t you like her?” she asked.
He blinked the sleep from his eyes. The little girl had obeyed her mother—she was staying out of his reach—but she was holding the sheep on a rope and letting it nuzzle him with its crooked mouth.
“Shouldn’t she be outside?” he whispered.
“Shh. Don’t tell Mama. She doesn’t like when I—“
“Kimmie,” came a sleepy voice from the bedchamber. “Who are you talking to?”
“Nobody.”
There was a sudden thrash of linens and the woman rushed into the room, a warning ring in her voice as she came. “You’d better not be going near that Vi-...” When she saw that Kimbery was safe, the anxiety deserted her eyes. Then she saw the ewe. “How did that sheep get in here?”
Kimbery shrugged. “Caimbeul wanted to see my da. I’m going to put her back.”
“I’ve told you a hundred times, Kimmie, sheep don’t belong in the house. And he’s not your da. Now if you don’t take that animal out of here this instant…”
Brandr grew deaf to her scolding as he took note of the woman’s attire. By Odin, she was clad in little more than a sheer linen shift, rumpled
“Because Wilfred believed that women were made to be the servants of men, and she wanted him to know exactly who was getting the better of him.”
“What did he say when he saw who she was?”
“He called her bad names.”
“What bad names?”
“They’re so bad, I can’t repeat them.”
Brandr smiled at that.
“But the other brothers—Eldred, Grimbol, and Osbern—were as angry as bees when they found out they’d been beaten by their own sister. So they yelled at Wilfred to clout her soundly.”
“Oh, nay, Mama.”
“But try as he might, Wilfred couldn’t lay a hand on her, for she was nimble and strong. You see, while her brothers had lain lazily about, boasting of their skills, she’d spent long hours practicing. She eventually managed to smack his arse with the flat of her sword and sent him crashing into his other brothers.”
Kimbery laughed long and hard. “Smack his arse!”
The woman couldn’t help but laugh along, which made Brandr grin.
“Aye. And when she’d defeated them all, a servant who’d seen the entire battle ran to tell their father. Her father was so proud of her, he gave her a beautiful jeweled sword as a prize, saying that it was she who should rightfully inherit his lands.”
A strange shiver ran up Brandr’s spine. He glanced at the jeweled sword in the corner. Could the story be true? Pictish women were said to be able to handle a blade. But could she possibly be the intrepid swordswoman in the story? Surely not. Surely the tale was a work of imagination. After all, the heroine of her story had become a landed heiress. This woman lived in a humble hovel.
“Did she live happily ever after, Mama?”
There was a hesitation. “Oh, I’m sure she did.”
“Mama,” Kimbery announced, “I want a sword.”
“You have a sword.”
Brandr raised a brow. The little girl had a sword?
“Not a wooden sword. A real sword,” Kimbery said.
“When you’re older.”
“And I want brothers to fight with,” she added.
“That I can’t promise you.”
“I want to be a warrior just like the lady in the story.”
Her mother chuckled. “You’ll be twice as good as the lady in the story.”
“Mama, can we practice sparring?”
“Tomorrow,” she promised, “but only if you get a good night’s rest.”
After she finished tucking in her daughter, the woman emerged again. Brandr quickly sized her up and decided the story couldn’t be true. She might be able to wield a blade, but no sweet-faced maid could possibly vanquish four seasoned warriors.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Brandr woke with a face full of sheep. He sputtered and reared back as far as he could, which wasn’t far, since he was on a short leash.
“Caimbeul likes you,” Kimbery informed him.
He grimaced as the smell of the ewe hit him full force. “Gah!”
“Don’t you like her?” she asked.
He blinked the sleep from his eyes. The little girl had obeyed her mother—she was staying out of his reach—but she was holding the sheep on a rope and letting it nuzzle him with its crooked mouth.
“Shouldn’t she be outside?” he whispered.
“Shh. Don’t tell Mama. She doesn’t like when I—“
“Kimmie,” came a sleepy voice from the bedchamber. “Who are you talking to?”
“Nobody.”
There was a sudden thrash of linens and the woman rushed into the room, a warning ring in her voice as she came. “You’d better not be going near that Vi-...” When she saw that Kimbery was safe, the anxiety deserted her eyes. Then she saw the ewe. “How did that sheep get in here?”
Kimbery shrugged. “Caimbeul wanted to see my da. I’m going to put her back.”
“I’ve told you a hundred times, Kimmie, sheep don’t belong in the house. And he’s not your da. Now if you don’t take that animal out of here this instant…”
Brandr grew deaf to her scolding as he took note of the woman’s attire. By Odin, she was clad in little more than a sheer linen shift, rumpled
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