Page 3 of Wulver’s Flame (Knotty #2)

Liùsaidh

They were coming to Dunraith. Our spotters had rushed into the hall.

The worst of them all was coming for us.

It could be a raid or worse. My hand tightened around my dagger.

I would not hold back. They came to our shores and took from us before they began to settle.

Whenever they felt like it, they would raid our stores and livestock.

The simmering rage beneath my skin made my hands tremble.

No more.

I glanced toward my father. He stood beside Brìghd, listening to the seeress intently before barking orders to secure the village.

I rose to join them, but hands clamped down on my shoulders.

“Nae wae this beast. Yer Da isnae gonae take any chances wae yae,” Fergus said as his fingers tightened.

“Ah willnae sit back,” I growled at him, dropping until I sat on his feet.

I scrambled to evade him, racing to the door, but my da had his arm around my waist.

“The Wulverson beast is cummin’ am no risking yer life, Liù,” he growled before handing me to Fergus.

He didn’t hesitate to drag me away.

“Ah’ll neva stop, Da. They ar’nae welcome here. They killed Ualan,” I shouted, but my da was already turning away, shaking his head.

I yanked my hands from Fergus’s grip, but the hairy beast held fast.

“Nothin’ cun bring yer brother back, lass. Gie yer Da some peace o’ mind. It wuznae Wulverson who did the deed.”

“They’re all the same, an’ if yae know what’s best fur yae, you’ll release me,” I snarled at him.

He chuckled and pushed me into the storage room, locking the gate behind him.

“Am mair feart of the Chieftain than yoo. Ya wee, flamehaired scoundrel.”

I shoved against the gate until dust and straw scattered to the ground.

“Let me ootae here.”

“Nae chance. Ah huv’ tae go,” he said, already halfway to the hall.

Then it hit me.

I was already sitting here like a prize pig if they were coming to raid our stores.

I scowled, tucked my legs up, and perched on the wooden chest with my dagger drawn.

Let them come.

?

?

?

I sat, silent and waiting, ears straining for the clash of metal or a war cry, anything. But there was only the creak of wood and the snuffing of torches outside.

By the time Brìghd came for me, it was long past dark.

“Aboot time,” I muttered as she bent to the lock. “What did they want?”

“Let’s huv’ a wee chat in yer bedchamber,” she said instead, swinging the gate open like I hadn’t just been caged like a rabid dog.

At first, I was relieved to leave my prison, but as I watched Brìghd, I noticed she couldn't look me in the eye.

“Wit? Are yae goin’tae tell me?”

“Yae best brace yersel’ fur some bad news.”

My heart lurched as I ran after her. “Is ma Da—?”

“He’s fine,” she muttered.

“Is it Naillan then?”

Naillan was only a child, but in some raids, boys were targeted to prevent future uprisings. My sisters were married on the mainland. They were safe.

“Yer wee brother is safe.”

We reached my room, and I shot past her and dragged her in, holding her wrist. She wedged the door shut behind her.

“Baith yer sister's were married at fifteen summers. Yae cannae stay wae yer Da all yer life.

I was four summers past that. By my reckoning, I still had one summer left before the handfasting ceremony with Fergus, though he feared my Da more than he liked me.

“What of it?”

“The Norseman asked fur yer hand in exchange for peace—a treaty that will keep us all safe wae the Wulverson name.”

I was speechless as she continued.

“His Da is a Jarl in their homeland. Yer kin would be safe,” she said softly. “Dunraith would be safe.”

My legs collapsed. My insides twisting like a gutted eel. My knees hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Yer Da said no.”

My head snapped up as hope emerged.

“Wulverson telt him if he didnae want peace through bloodlines, he would sentence Dunraith to death and take yae regardless,” she paused to sit down beside me.

No. There was no hope. I shook my head. In our great-grandfather's time, we suffered a significant loss. Here was another brute set to destroy my kin. My heart raced in fear.

What a horrid fate. Why me?

“Lass, yer Da had nae choice,” she said, taking my hand onto her lap. “I scribed the treaty myself. We have very favourable terms.”

“Naw,” I said, but my voice cracked.

I swallowed and licked my dry lips before trying again.

“Yer Da’s decided,” she said before I could utter a word. “The scroll has been marked by baith o’ em.”

“My Maw will be turning in her final resting place,” I spat out, pulling my hand away.

“Am sorry, lass. It’s already done. The ceremony is in two days,” she said before she stood up. “I saw yer fate. Ye’r goin’tae outlive us all. There’s magic in our stones and blood. The Viking is crucial to us all.”

Betrayal coated my tongue like bitter ash. Part of me battled with myself. My wee brother, barely seven summers, would live.

The pain was too great. My father was giving me away to the enemy.

“Tell ma Da ah dinnae want tae see him,” I said with my voice flat and body numb. “Ah willnae look him in the eye and I willnae eva’ come back tae his hoose.”

Silence.

I refused to cry, even if my heart shattered like a clay pot.

“Yae willnae understand right now, but yer Da had to think of the cost tae Dunraith. He’s fond o’ yae mair than the rest of his bairns even though he will ne’va tell yae.”

I kept my head down, furious at the tear, travelling down my cheek.

When I remained silent, she sighed.

The door scraped, and I saw Fergus on guard before Brìghd wedged it shut again.

I got up and searched for my bag from foraging.

I’d keep my dagger and gut the Norseman myself.

Treaty be damned.