Page 2 of Dalla’s Royal Guards (Second Chance #3)

“Who did this?” Amal inquired, his voice heavily laced with a Middle-Eastern accent.

“Officially, we do not know. Most likely, however, it was Jarl Leifsson.”

She knew her response gave little comfort to the small group, but she had no reassurance to give.

Gripping the rope, she pulled up the bucket attached to the end and filled the first of the two buckets she had brought with her.

Mona, a freed thrall from the English coast, picked it up and carried it back to the longhouse while Dalla filled the other.

Sven and ten riders, almost half of their men, had gone to return the body of Frodi Leifsson to Jarl Leifsson.

Frodi and the men with him had been stealing horses and sheep, and they had burned several huts in Sven’s domain, killing two freed thralls.

It had been several nights of these attacks, until finally Frodi and his men were killed as they attempted to steal Sven’s prized stallion, Hófvarpnir.

The timing of these raids was too coincidental for Jarl Leifsson to know nothing of them.

It had been less than a month since Sven rejected the Jarl’s proposal to join their families with a handfasting.

Without proof, however, Sven could not gather their allies for war.

The horse had been bait; the trap had worked, and they now had the proof they needed.

Jarl Bjarni Asvaldsson would send men. After all, an attack on Sven was a direct attack on his own family. Asta was Bjarni’s sister, and he loved her deeply. Sven had also saved Bjarni’s life more than once. The Jarl owed Sven a life-debt.

Leifsson resented that Jarl Asvaldsson had turned down his request for Asta’s hand many years ago.

He believed that Sven’s influence with nearby Jarls, and the lands gifted to him, would have belonged to Leifsson if only his desires for Dalla’s mother hadn’t been thwarted.

With an eye for gathering more power, Leifsson had turned his attention to binding Runa to his oldest son, Gamli, since both Dalla and Aesa were already promised to another.

This plan was always going to fail, however.

Sven could see the greed and cruelty in Leifsson just as easily as Bjarni had seen it, and Gamli was worse than his father. The boy enjoyed inflicting pain—whether on his animals, his thralls, or anyone else who made the error of getting in his way. Sven would never have agreed to the match.

“The water is heating,” Dalla called to her mother.

Asta nodded. “And the sentries?”

“In place. I’ve sent Bjorn to Jarl Bjarni.”

“Good, good. See to the security of the village. Those who are not patrolling should be in the longhouse tonight. We can better protect them here.”

Dalla nodded, her gaze moving to her father’s still face. It was deathly pale. He must have lost consciousness when her mother removed the arrows. She picked up a shaft and turned it, displaying a mark that she recognized. Gamli liked to mark his kills.

The night passed slowly. One man passed away, and a fever overtook her father. Asta, Aesa, and several of the other women took shifts bathing the men with cool water. Dalla and Runa took turns taking food and drink to the sentries and patrolling the area.

It was sunrise on the second day before Dalla spoke with Aesa. Her sister was extremely pale and distracted, either staring off into space or looking at each of them with tears in her eyes.

“Aesa.”

Aesa turned. Dalla caught her sister’s hand when she lifted it to brush a tear away. Fear made her stomach roll when she noticed the extreme grief in Aesa’s eyes. She pulled her sister into her arms.

“What have you seen?”

Aesa released a shuddering breath. A low sob, smothered by her face against Dalla’s shoulder, made Dalla briefly close her eyes. She held her sister until Aesa made the first move to pull away.

“I… saw our deaths,” Aesa confessed.

“Our deaths? All of us?” Dalla asked in disbelief.

“ Ja .”

“When?”

Aesa shook her head. “My visions are not that clear, you know that.”

“Could you have been mistaken?”

“Nei. Olaf… Nei .”

“Have you told Mor ?”

“ Nei . She has enough to worry about with father,” Aesa said.

“Can you see where we are when it happens? The light? Anything that can give us a warning,” Dalla pressed.

Aesa closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

Dalla remained silent to allow her sister to focus, but it was agonizing.

All she wanted to do was shake answers out of Aesa and scream at how unfair it was.

The muted sounds of people waking told her that they wouldn’t have peace much longer.

She bit her lip, determined to give her sister these last moments of quiet.

“It was light out. I couldn’t tell if it was early morn, afternoon, or evening.

The sky was light… but also dark, as if the sky were covered by clouds…

or-or smoke. It will be soon. Father was too weak to fight.

Olaf fell, a sword in his hand and an arrow in his chest. I remember the taste of blood on my lips, but my grief was so great when I foresaw this that I—that I pushed the vision away from me.

If I hadn’t… If I hadn’t, Dalla, I would know more and we might stop it from coming true. ”

“Where did Olaf fall?” she asked in a low, urgent tone.

Aesa blinked and frowned. “Outside of our hut.”

Dalla smiled and hugged Aesa in a gentle and reassuring embrace. “Then we get him away from here. I will tell Mor that Olaf must be sent to Jarl Bjarni. He will protect him. If Olaf does not die, then the rest cannot come to pass, ja ?”

Aesa bit her lip and slowly nodded. “ Ja .”

“Gather supplies. I will instruct Amal to escort Olaf. They can take the fastest of Far ’s horses and be there within a few days. Perhaps they will even meet our uncle’s men,” she said.

“ Ja . I will gather supplies,” Aesa murmured.

Dalla watched as her sister walked away. Urgency was thrumming through her. She scanned the longhouse. Her mother was speaking quietly with her father.

Odin, please protect my family.

“ Nei ! We will not go!” Runa argued.

“You will all go. It is not safe here,” Sven weakly ordered.

“He is right. If Jarl Leifsson arrives before Bjarni, we have few resources to fight him. If he takes one of you, he will force a handfast, whether you are already promised to another or not,” their mother replied.

“I will slit Gamli’s throat first,” Runa growled.

“You will go. I will not risk Leifsson or his son harming any of you,” their mother ordered, her tone brooking no argument.

Dalla bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything. She knew what could happen to all of them if Leifsson, Gamli, and their men attacked. Death would be a blessing compared to what would happen if they were taken prisoner.

“Take five men with you and leave at once,” her father ordered, struggling to sit up.

“Yes, Far ,” she reluctantly agreed.

“No! We can fight,” Runa growled.

“We can also die… or worse. Think of Far and Mor , Runa. We must get Olaf to safety and keep you out of Gamli’s reach. We will ride. Mayhap our paths will meet with our uncle, if Bjorn arrives swiftly enough,” she said, gripping her younger sister’s arm and pulling her away.

Runa grumbled under her breath, but she calmed and nodded. Less than an hour later, they were saddled. Dalla checked her longbow to make sure it was secure. Her gaze drifted to Aesa. Her sister kept looking at the overcast sky.

She mounted and reined her horse closer to Aesa. “What is it?”

Aesa shook her head. “‘Tis nothing.”

Dalla nodded and looked at their guards. “Stay alert. We ride hard and fast.”

She touched the side of her mare with her heels.

She had changed out of her normal attire into woolen trousers and a long tunic that was belted tightly at the waist, her calves encased in a pair of knee-high leather boots that laced up the front.

She wanted clothing that she could fight in if the need arose.

They rode hard for several miles before they slowed to a steady clip. She leaned forward as the mare followed Amal’s gelding up the trail. At the top of the hill, she twisted in her saddle. From here, they could see the village.

“‘Tis on fire! They are under attack!” Olaf exclaimed in horror as he reached for the sheath attached to his saddle and drew the small sword their father had given him.

“Olaf, no!” Aesa cried out as their brother turned his horse around and kicked his heels against the horse’s side.

“Take them to the Jarl. I will get Olaf,” Runa ordered.

“‘Tis my vision,” Aesa breathed in a distraught voice before she, too, followed Runa and Olaf.

Dalla didn’t think twice. She followed her siblings.

Her brother’s smaller gelding, used to the steep hills and sure-footed, raced down the hill.

Olaf ignored their frantic demands to stop.

Dalla crested the rise above their home in time to see Gamli thrust their father to his knees.

Sven bent forward and caught himself by one arm.

Dalla’s anguished cry mixed with Aesa’s when Gamli swung his sword onto their father’s exposed neck.

“ Far !” she choked out, reining her mare to a sudden stop.

The mare slid on her back hooves and reared into the air.

From her perch, Dalla watched with anguish as their mother struggled against the man holding her.

Dalla kicked her heels into the mare’s side as her mother attacked Jarl Leifsson.

Leifsson gripped her mother’s shoulder with one hand and drove his sword through her with the other.

“Olaf, stop!” Dalla yelled when she saw the man to Leifsson’s left raise his bow.

Dalla grabbed her longbow, fitted an arrow, and released it at the same time as the man.

Her arrow struck true, but so did the one the man had released.

Olaf was flung backwards out of his saddle, the small sword still clutched in his hand as he hit the ground.

Horrified, Dalla knew her brother was dead.

She slid from the mare, her feet hitting the ground as a soft rain began to fall.

She fitted arrow after arrow, swinging around to strike any of Leifsson’s men that she could until she had no more arrows.

Runa’s aim was true, and she struck with her short bow until she pulled her sword and continued attacking with a ferocity that would have made any Viking warrior proud.

They were vastly outnumbered, but Dalla didn’t care. Her parents and brother’s murder was burned into her soul. She silently cursed as she fought until she could contain it no longer.

“By Odin, you will all die! By Thor, I will strike every one of you to hel . By Tyr, I will wage war upon you even after my death, and by Vidar, you shall know my vengeance!” she vowed as she fought her way toward Gamli.

Dalla fell forward when she was struck from behind. She twisted, bringing the sharp edge of her longbow up under her attacker’s chin, splitting his jaw open. Two others grabbed her before another pulled her feet from under her. It was only Aesa’s harsh cry of pain that stilled her fight.

“Bring each survivor before me,” Jarl Leifsson ordered.

Dalla jerked, trying to free her arms when Amal, dripping with blood, was thrust forward.

Leifsson walked around the dark-skinned man, trailing the tip of his sword across Amal’s shoulders. Amal stiffened, refusing to bend. Leifsson stood in front of the proud freeman.

“Pledge your loyalty to me and you shall live,” Leifsson ordered.

“None here would follow a coward like you,” Amal replied, lifting his chin.

“Then all here will die,” Leifsson responded.

Amal’s wife, Mona, screamed when Leifsson slit her husband’s throat. She broke free from the circle of villagers, then fell to her knees, a knife between her shoulders, beside Amal.

“Kill them all,” Leifsson ordered.

“You are mares! You have no balls,” Runa sneered. “ Nei , you are even worse. You are an argr ! Fight me! Nei , you won’t, because you don’t have the balls to fight a real warrior!”

Runa followed her insult by spitting on the ground in front of Leifsson and Gamli. Gamli stepped forward and slapped Runa across the face. The blow was enough to bend Runa’s knees, but she stiffened them. She spat blood from her mouth and grinned.

“Runa,” Dalla warned.

“Argh!” Runa repeated in a tone so contemptuous that Dalla was surprised neither man struck her sister dead before the degrading insult left her lips.

“I will see you in Valhalla,” Aesa murmured.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dalla caught the glint of the small knife Aesa slipped from her boot. Dalla wilted. The hands holding her relaxed. She drew in a deep breath and nodded, stealthily drawing her own knife.

“I will see you in Valhalla,” she repeated.

The last moment of her life was forever frozen in her memory. She rose at the same time as Aesa. They swung in unison, burying their blades in the neck and chests of their guards at the same time as Runa drove hers into the center of Gamli’s throat.

Darkness blurred Dalla’s vision when another guard thrust his sword into her side. She staggered as pain first exploded, then faded. Her knees hit the muddy soil at the same time as Leifsson pulled his sword from Runa’s body. His curses rose above the muted thump of her slowing heartbeat.

“No! Damn you. I curse you all to eternity to live and die again so you feel my rage and pain,” Leifsson sobbed, dropping into the mud beside them and next to the body of his last son. He lifted his face to the rain and raged.

A sweet sense of revenge filled Dalla as she landed on her side between Aesa and Runa. Leifsson’s savage grief and rage gave her a small solace that the Gods had not forsaken them. She reached out her hand to Aesa. Aesa’s lips moved.

“I’m sorry.”

A single tear fell from the corner of Dalla’s eye before the light faded from them.