“Where is he?” Wolf asked, resting his hand on his wife’s back, needing to make sure he kept her close.
“He was last seen on his ship, but he could be anywhere by now,” Arran said. “My sister is not safe. I have come to take her home with me.”
Wolf’s words rang with warning. “My wife isn’t going anywhere.”
“If you want to keep her safe, you’ll let her return home with me,” Arran argued.
“I am home, Arran,” Raven said and leaned back against her husband, his arm going around her and capturing her tight, making it clear he wouldn’t let her go.
Wolf didn’t allow the joy her words brought him to show. He felt the same, that he’d finally come home and it was because of her. He wasn’t about to let her go or leave her safety to someone else.
“My wife has nothing to fear. She is not only well aware that I will keep her safe, but she also knows that I am well aware that she is more than capable of protecting herself,” Wolf said with pride.
Raven turned a huge smile on him. “I’m glad you’ve finally admitted that.” Her smile softened when she turned to look at her brother. “You need to realize that, Arran.”
“I’ve spoken to Clive—”
Raven interrupted, eager to ask, “Are he and Bethany doing well,”
“They are, but Angus isn’t,” Arran said and shook away the distraction. “Clive told Royden and me much about you. It tore at my heart to hear what you were made to endure, though I can’t deny that you’ve come out stronger for it. But Brynjar is pure evil, I know, I suffered at his hands.”
“I’m sorry you suffered like that and I’m grateful to Wolf and Royden for rescuing you, but I won’t live in fear of this man. And I have no doubt that my husband will make certain Brynjar’s reign of terror comes to an end.”
Arran sneered. “I want that pleasure.”
“We can share it,” Wolf offered, understanding his need for revenge.
“Your word on that?” Arran asked.
“I would agree, but it will depend on the circumstances, which may leave either one of us no choice.”
Arran nodded. “That’s true, though I would like to be the one who delivers the last blow. I owe it to him not only for what he did to me and countless other prisoners, but for what he intended to do to my wife and now my sister.”
“Hopefully that can be arranged,” Wolf said and went on to explain what they had pieced together so far concerning Brynjar.
“So he has men passing information to him and if one fails to do so another shows up, which means it is never-ending,” Arran said. “Even if you catch one of them, there’s a good chance he won’t know anything that will help. Brynjar often sends out prisoners with only one task to accomplish and they are given no other information or instructions, except if the person fails to carry out the task, his punishment is death and not an easy one.”
“With Arran once having been a captive of Brynjar’s, maybe he would recognize the dead man,” Lars suggested.
Arran’s scowl went straight to his sister. “Another attempt on your life?”
“We’re not sure since this one froze to death before he reached us,” Raven said.
“Let me take a look,” Arran offered.
Lars joined them as they walked to the shed that housed the dead man. The village was alive with activity. Women busy chatting with each other after days confined to their homes, while children engaged in endless snowball fights, and men sat around campfires talking while others whittled away at pieces of wood.
Raven smiled when she saw Eria pointing to one of the many intricately carved posts throughout the village. George was mastering the Norse symbols and language as well as gaining favor with Eria. She spotted Fyn having a snowball fight with Tait, the little lad’s cheeks blossoming red and peals of laughter spilling out of him. Greta looked on, her smile one of pure happiness. Life was good here and the thought startled her.
Raven trailed into the shed after the men to see Arran shaking his head, though he remained silent and continued staring at the dead man. It was almost as if by staring at him he’d will himself to recognize him.
“He is a stranger to me,” Arran finally said. “He had nothing on him that might help identify him as belonging to a particular tribe since his garments are those of a Northman?”
“A knife that has since disappeared,” Raven said.
“Someone took it?” Arran asked and his sister confirmed with a nod, then his eyes darted to Wolf.
Wolf acknowledged his thought without Arran speaking. “We are well aware Brynjar could have planted one of his people among us.”
“What are you doing about it?” Arran demanded, worried for his sister.