A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so pleased that you are still enjoying this story. I know that the last chapter left on a bit of a cliffhanger, and I have been dying to post this chapter basically from the beginning. I am really curious as to what you will think! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions! HUGE thank you to Ava Safari for beta reading this chapter!
Please let me know what you thought of chapter nine and be on the lookout for chapter ten later this week!
King or not, Ivar looked positively furious at having his rest interrupted by the King's riding party, especially in such a hostile way. He wasn't under any illusions that this was meant to be a friendly visit. Keeping his hand on his sword, Ivar took a firm stance, projecting that he was not about to be pushed around.
"My King, I must confess that I was not expecting to be graced with your presence in the hour of the wolf," he said, letting his voice boom through the clearing. Men were still scrambling to wake up and gather their weapons. "We thought that it might be a pack of Danes descending on us in a raid."
"Then I pity how inept your men seem to be at protecting you from raiding attacks," Tom spat back, contemptuous. "Hopefully you protect your lands better than your own family."
"Enough pleasantries, my King," Ivar offered, trying to hold back some of his frustration with the situation. "There must be a reason that you have ridden so far and so hard, other than to question the fitness of my men."
"Indeed," the King said, only to dismount from his horse. His eyes looked around the camp, only to lock with Hermione, who was standing at the edge of the clearing. "I've come for Lady Hermione."
Hermione stood frozen, her heart still beating wildly in her chest. She'd been ready to run to safety if they'd been raiders, but now she wondered if the King wasn't a more dangerous prospect. She still couldn't entirely figure out what he'd want with her that he'd travel all this way just to retrieve her. He didn't look as handsome now as he had at the wedding. His mischievous eyes now glinted with something more sinister.
"Out of the question," Ivar said firmly. "My decision has not changed since we left the wedding, my King. I won't take things out of Hermione's hands."
"I am your King and I am not asking for your permission. I will take Lady Hermione, and I will hear no dissent from you," Tom snarled. "You should know that you are utterly replaceable Earl Ivar."
One of Tom's men made a move towards her, as though he was going to grab her and take her away. Thorfinn lunged into his path, pulling his sword. After the hostile action, the rest of the King's men pulled their swords as well. Sensing how dangerous the situation was getting, Hermione cautiously stepped forward, pressing her hand to Thorfinn's shoulders.
"Maybe we could speak about this calmly," Hermione said softly, not wanting to startle anyone into action. "My King, what need do you have of me? Perhaps there is another way that we can sort this mess out if Earl Ivar will not permit me to assist you."
Tom gave her a pleased little smile, before smirking at Ivar. "You didn't even tell her of the opportunity I gave her?" he laughed, realizing that he held all the cards in this equation. "Do you want to know, Hermione?"
Biting her lower lip, Hermione thought over the question. "My King, of course I am curious," she responded cautiously. "But, there must be a reason that Earl Ivar would choose not to tell me what it was."
"I offered young Thorfinn his lands, in exchange for your hand in marriage, my Lady," he told her, seeming to enjoy the way that his pronouncement made the Rowles uncomfortable. "They refused, but I've since reminded myself that I am King. I will have you and that is my final word and decree."
Hermione was utterly shocked at his words. Reeling, she tried to get a hold of her emotions. Yes, she had enjoyed dancing with the King, but she barely knew him. And now, he was demanding her hand in marriage? He barely knew anything about her either. "My King, I don't know what to say," she offered weakly, trying to think over the merits of his demand. Would he heed her wishes if she told him she wished to remain with the Rowles instead?
"No!" a voice boomed in the clearing. It was Ivar, his sword now drawn in anger. "I told you before, my King, that I will not just give Hermione away to someone whom she doesn't wish to marry. It is Hermione's choice, and that is final. You cannot just show up here and demand her."
She felt her heart thundering against her ribcage. Of course, Earl Ivar had told her that she was like a daughter to him, she never expected that he would stand up for her so, showing steel to the King's own personal guard. She'd grown to see him as a father, the man who raised her, and to know that she truly was so precious to him that he was willing to risk his life for her was truly touching.
"Or you are just saving her for your son," Tom accused with a sneer completely distorting his handsome face. "Are you sure that Hermione would even want to marry the likes of him?"
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. There was a time when she would have wanted nothing more than to marry Thorfinn. But, his behavior had made her second guess the idea of a future with him, especially after he'd been so horrible to her. That didn't mean that she was ready to marry King Tom after knowing him for only one day. There had to be a mutually agreeable option that would prevent any bloodshed. She just hoped that the King would respect her equally enough to understand her next words. It was not possible to outright refuse him, but she could suggest a period of courtship so that they could get to know one another better. Then, in a years time perhaps, they could revisit the idea of marriage.
Before she could give the King her suggestion, though, Tom was drawing his own sword. "If that's the way you want it to be," he said, sounding exceptionally cavalier about the situation. In the blink of an eye, the clashes of battle erupted.
All around her, the King's men advanced on the household guard that Hermione had grown up with. Men she'd known for a decade or longer were falling all around her, run through by the King's swords, only to drop to the ground, dead and dying. That wasn't to say that they weren't putting up a good fight. Earl Ivar trained his men to be strong, and in the style of his people, which was catching the King's men off guard. But, the King's men were well armed, whereas Ivar's had been sprung upon in the middle of the night, and without the protective clothing they were at a distinct disadvantage.
Fear shot through Hermione as she tried to think of what to do. She knew that she should run away as far as she could before blood lust could descend on these men and she ended up just as dead as the rest of them. She'd heard stories of battle, but standing in the middle of it was enough to keep her frozen, unable to even grab for the dagger on her leg.
Thorfinn, who had been in front of her, was ferocious in battle, so confident in his abilities, despite not having much practical experience. It was clear that his size and strength more than made up for it, as he remained untouched despite taking down several men. As he was drawn into the skirmish, he left her exposed and unattended.
She was looking around for King Tom, wanting to know where he was, but was unable to find him. Just as she was about to turn, an arm grabbed her and pulled her up onto a horse. A scream was ripped out of her throat when she came face to face with her kidnapper. Tom just gave her a pleased little grin.
"Please leave me be, my King," Hermione pleaded with him, not liking this new side of Tom that she was seeing. "Certainly we can work this out without bloodshed."
"There is nothing to work out, Hermione," Tom condescended to her, talking to her as if she was a little child. "I've decided that you are mine, and there is nothing else to discuss."
With his arm holding her securely around her waist, there was little Hermione could do to get free from his grasp. He urged his horse forward, sword drawn, bearing down on Earl Ivar. She tried to scream, do anything to warn her father figure of his impending doom, but he was too invested in holding off three of the King's men to lend his attention. In one horrifying move, King Tom lifted his sword, only to bring it down on Earl Ivar, nearly severing his head from his body.
The proud Northman dropped to the ground in a heap, dead.
All Hermione could hear was screaming, her ears ringing from the sound. Quickly, she realized that the sound was coming from her own throat when the King shoved his hand over her mouth, muting the sound. The King was laughing, a horrible sound, at the destruction he'd caused. Turning his horse around he found Thorfinn in the crowd.
"Well, young Thorfinn, I grant your request. Now you have your precious father's lands and your title. But just remember that you can be replaced just as easily as he was," he said with a maniacal grin. "To ensure that you don't try to do anything stupid, I am going to take a hostage. You're used to being a good little hostage, aren't you, Hermione?" he asked rhetorically.
Hermione bit down hard on the fleshy part of his hand, wrenching her mouth free from his grasp. "Thorfinn!" she called out, looking to the man as her absolute lifeline. "Please help!" she called to him, wriggling in the King's grasp trying to get free once more.
To her dismay, the King only continued to laugh, before riding away from the clearing with her in tow. Staring over his shoulder, she saw Thorfinn mount his horse and give chase after her. Woden, she had never wanted anything so bad as to be back in his arms, safe, at that moment. Thorfinn had a furious look on his face while he rode hard, fast. A trickle of hope began to form in her mind when she realized that he was gaining on them, only to have her hopes dashed when one of the King's men knocked Thorfinn off his horse, leaving him sprawled on the ground.
She watched, waiting to see if he would get up, as long as she could. His form got smaller and smaller, only to completely disappear when they crested the hill.
Thorfinn groaned as the world came back around him. His head was killing him, feeling many times worse than being alesick. Opening his eyes made his splitting headache worse as the sunlight streamed in. The last thing he remembered was that arsehole Rodolphus hitting him with the flat of his blade, knocking him off his horse.
Hermione, he remembered with a gasp, sitting up far too quickly, leaving his head spinning. All of the night's events came rushing back to him. The King riding in, in the middle of the night, his father refusing to cow to his demands, the fighting. He'd killed more than three of the King's men and maimed at least one other. He remembered the King blindsiding his father, granting his land's to Thorfinn, and taking Hermione as a hostage.
He felt sick. Of course, he'd always longed for lands, but if he'd known that the title was going to come at the expense of having his father murdered before his very eyes he never would have agreed to it. He never would have coveted it for that long. That the King had taken away the woman that Thorfinn had planned to marry only made things worse. He needed to get her back.
But, before he could hope to do that, he needed to get back to their camp. He had no idea how many in their party had been injured, and he was sure that his mother was inconsolable. Looking around, he saw no sign of his horse, so he knew that he would have to make the short walk back, on his own. Each step felt as though he were moving boulders, and he was quickly sweating with the effort of half-dragging himself home.
When he arrived back at their camp, he was met by a scene of complete chaos. As soon as his mother laid eyes on him, she ran to his side. "Oh, thank Woden, Thorfinn," she sobbed into his tunic, wrapping her arms around him. "We've been looking for you for hours, and after your father...I couldn't live without you as well." Her knees gave out beneath her, and Thorfinn had to act quickly to hold her up, guiding her to where she could sit down.
His father's body had been placed on the wagon to transport it back to their lands, and he was struck by the injustice of the situation. He could feel tears of his own forming when he wondered what his family had done to get this kind of treatment. He pressed his hands to his mother's shoulders so that she would look at him once more. "Mother, I promise you that this will not stand. I will get justice for our family."
"The only thing that I can think of now is getting my family home safely," Osthryth pleaded. "Let us return home and give your father a proper burial. Then we can give our grievances to the Bishop. He will be able to give us retribution to the King's actions, if the land you have been granted isn't enough."
Thorfinn felt incensed at her suggestion. "Of course a bit of land isn't retribution enough for killing my father," he growled, remembering the way that the King had laughed so casually, as if killing was as easy as breathing to him. "And, he has Hermione. He cannot just take whatever he wants from us."
"He is the King," Osthryth whined, knowing that it was unjust. "We have sworn our fealty to him, live in his Kingdom, and we must do as he asks. He is...within his rights to take Hermione," she extrapolated.
Looking into his mother's red-rimmed eyes, he was aghast to see that she was being very serious. He quickly decided that she must have been so addled by her grief that she was taking the path of least resistance. Surely, she would see the error of her words soon enough and get on his side as well. Thorfinn frowned. "The King demands too much of us," he bit out, trying to keep a handle on his anger. "I cannot bare thinking of Hermione alone with that monster. We must go get her back."
"Hermione is probably happy to be with the King," Osthryth pleaded weakly. "We all saw her dancing with him at the wedding and she seemed so happy. She will quickly forget about us."
Thorfinn shook his head back and forth. "No, Hermione didn't want to go with him, mother. She called for me as they rode away with her. The King has kidnapped a member of our household, and we cannot allow that to stand," he said, standing up. "Father thought of Hermione as a daughter! He would not want this fate for her either."
His mother stood up as well. "But I never thought of her as a daughter!" she shouted back at him. "Hermione was never one of us, Thorfinn. Now, I have given up Leoflaed and lost my husband in less than a day, and I refuse to lose you too, should you go after the King and that girl. It's over Thorfinn."
He took a deep breath, thinking about her words, only to feel pain. He was hurt to know that his mother had never seen Hermione as one of the family, but he wasn't particularly surprised either. It was no secret that she thought Ivar did too much for her when he encouraged her to be educated. Osthryth treated Hermione well, of course, but never with the same tenderness as her own children. Still, he knew that she'd lost the love of her life today, and she was likely feeling nothing but grief. He wouldn't hold her words against her.
He looked at his father's body, and remembered the conversation they'd had in the forest just the day prior. Ivar had been thrilled at the idea of him marrying Hermione, and Thorfinn wasn't going to give up on that dream just because the King had taken her from him. He couldn't forget the way that she'd called out for him, looking utterly terrified as Tom dragged her away from him. Even though she'd made it clear that she would like to study at Hogschester, he couldn't accept for a second that she would want to marry the man who'd murdered Ivar.
But, he knew that he wouldn't get anywhere if he just stormed into the capital city, all by himself. In any case, he wasn't in any shape to hold a sword at the moment, let alone mount a horse. He would be dead before the evening was there if he went charging off. No, instead he would return to his lands and give his father a proper burial. Once there, he would come up with a plan that would mean getting Hermione back.
Giving his mother a grim look, he nodded to placate her. "Come, let's bring father home. We will write to Leoflaed and Eirik so that they might say their goodbyes to him as well. If we hurry, we can catch Eirik before he gets too far away," he said.
She wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Thank you, Thorfinn. I can't lose you, too. I wouldn't survive it," she cried.
Now over a head taller than his mother, Thorfinn pressed a kiss to the crown of his mother's head. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he did not accept this outcome. With the memory of Hermione's voice screaming his name is desperation, he made a silent promise to the woman he loved that he was going to save her, even if it killed him.
