Wolf didn’t waste a minute, he lunged forward past the bushes and trees. Anger raged in his dark eyes and his words rolled out on a growl. “Not likely. Hand the lad over. He belongs to my tribe.”
Brynjar turned to his warrior. “Get him!”
The warrior rushed forward but came to an abrupt halt when Arran and Iver made themselves known, coming forward to flank Wolf.
“Let the lad go,” Wolf ordered.
“He belongs to me. I have every right to take him,” Brynjar said.
It hit Wolf then, what they’d been missing. What Brynjar would risk so much to get. “He’s your son.”
Brynjar laughed. “It took you this long to realize it?”
“It took you this long to learn of it?” Wolf countered.
Brynjar snarled. “I learned months ago. Why do you think I demanded to wed that sniveling, weak Eria? I knew she’d seek safety with you, giving me the perfect excuse to come here after her. And to torment you with attempts on your wife’s life. I didn’t care if they succeeded or not. It was pure pleasure just knowing the chaos it would cause you. When all the while, you had no idea what truly brought me here.” He shook Tait. “He’s my son and he goes with me.”
Tait raised his little chin and cried out. “Fyn is my da.”
Brynjar’s hand went up in the air to strike the lad.
“Touch him and I’ll see you lose that hand and let you suffer for days before you die,” Wolf threatened, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.
Brynjar went to laugh and it vanished in an instant when Clive and Lars emerged from the woods to join Wolf while a line of his warriors formed behind them.
Wolf was relieved to see his wife wasn’t with them.
“Release the lad and I’ll see you have a swift death,” Wolf said and heard a snarling protest from Arran.
Brynjar looked around, his own warrior having put distance between them. “I have a right to my son.”
“You have a right to die for all you’ve done and all those you’ve made suffer,” Arran said.
“It’s thanks to you, Arran, I learned I had a son. I left men behind after your wife’s father failed to deliver what he promised. I sent them to keep watch on Wolf. They came and went from his village, travelers stopping by for food and shelter. One of my men spotted Greta and remembered her and one look at Tait was enough to know he was my son. As soon as I found out I made plans to get him.”
“Fyn, my da,” Tait said, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Brynjar shook him. “I’m your da and I decide your fate. And where is Fyn? Is he here to save you?”
“You hurt him,” Tait said, his little chin shooting up, though it quivered. “My mum will heal him.”
“Hand the lad over,” Wolf warned.
Brynjar backed up closer to the river. The water rushed by in an angry flow, grabbing what it could along the way and devouring it beneath the surface and when the captured debris surfaced it got sucked down again.
“Let him go!” Arran ordered, frightened for the small lad. He didn’t know what he’d do if it was his bairn Brynjar held and he intended to make sure the evil man never got a chance to cause him such horrific fear.
“You’ll step away and let me go or the lad will not live to see another day,” Brynjar warned.
“You don’t want to do that, my son,” the raspy voice said.
All eyes turned to see the leper emerge from the woods and step toward Brynjar.
“Stay away from me, leper,” Brynjar warned, backing away from him.
“Let the lad go, my son,” the leper said calmly. “It does no good to harm the innocent bairn.”
“I decide my son’s fate,” Brynjar yelled.
“Only God can decide his fate, just as he will decide yours,” the leper said, the rasp in his voice heavy.
“Wolf the Mighty Beast thinks he will decide my fate,” Brynjar said with a laugh. “I chose how to live and I will choose how to die. And I will choose who dies with me.” His eyes went to Arran. “I will make sure to take you with me for all the trouble you’ve caused me.”
Arran scowled, though a slight smile lingered on his lips. “Do you hear that, Brynjar? The devil is calling to you and I’m more than happy to send you to him.”
“No devil,” Tait cried.
“You’re already with him, son,” Brynjar said and raced to the water’s edge and held Tait out over the rushing water by the back of his shirt. “If I can’t have my son, no one can have him.”
“Don’t,” Wolf warned, knowing he would never reach the lad in time. He was too far away. The water would gobble him up and sweep him away, and he’d be lost to them. “Let Tait go and you’ll be free to leave.”