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To Conquer a Viking
To Conquer a Viking
To Conquer a Viking
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To Conquer a Viking

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In early northern Scotland, there were invasions from the east, the south, and the north. When the Vikings tore across Scotland from the north, they left nearly no one alive, but in some ways, the vikings were looking for nothing more than their own claim to something they could call their own.

Theodor Nass was one such viking. He had his fun, he had women, honor, and as a leader, he had the loyalty of his men. However, he has found someone he thinks will be able to give him everything he wants. The daughter of the chieftain of the village in northern Scotland has been found, hiding in the dank, wet, dungeon. She fights, tooth and nail, against the invading forces, but finds the men too much for her.

Of course, her vitality and refusal to give in give Theodor the idea that she is ideal for him. He keeps her safe from his men, who seem less inclined to be lecherous, and more likely to turn away from the fighting for more riches for those who command them all. Jealousy gets in the way of any hope for a positive future for the two very different people.

Learning a new language, learning a new culture, and learning to bend instead of breaking, the two solid representatives of their own diverse cultures might be able to find a place where they can agree. Or are their differences too much to build a bridge between?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherByron Rider
Release dateMay 21, 2016
ISBN9781311824271
To Conquer a Viking
Author

Cait Perez

About Cait Perez. That is a big story. Born in the 1960's, she was taught to be a housewife and mother. She was creative most of her childhood, although her talents lay in visual art, painting, coloring, and drawing. By the time she was a teenager she read everything she could get her hands on. She also found out she was quite the convincing storyteller. Writing has never been a problem for Cait. She was quite good at putting words together on paper. She loves different styles of writing, from adventure, to academic, to fantasy and historic. Using her vast tastes she decided one day "What the heck?" and wrote a book. From there another and another. Currently she has completed many books and has been told she is prolific if nothing else. Her life is full of change and diversity,too. As a shy and understated child, she kept to herself and was only pulled out of corners by others who wished to spend time with her. Low self-eseem made her think very low of her own value, but it seemed that other children and adults saw something in her that she didn't see in herself. No matter her own low self-image, Cait understands how intelligent and capable she is. She is kind of an oxymoron in that way, bu it's alright--it works for her. She enjoys history so much that her genre is Historic fiction adventure with a bit of love and romance. She tries to use historically correct landmarks and names as much as is possible, but of course with the literaray license she can use. Scotland is her love. She has never been, but one day will go, only because she's never been. The Highlands, with the rough mountains and rougher people,compels her. Writing books is now something she does a lot. She gets up and writes. Comes home from work and writes. She takes most of her time reading for ideas and then writing. Her hope is that you will enjoy what she writes. After all, Cait is a giver, above all things.

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    To Conquer a Viking - Cait Perez

    To Conquer the Viking

    By:

    Cait Perez

    Copyright 2015, 2016 Cait Perez

    Published by Byron Rider at Smashwords

    Smashwords Edition License Notes

    Thank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

    Table of Contents

    Title Page

    Disclaimer

    Dedication

    Other Titles by Cait Perez

    Prologue

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Epilogue

    Sources

    To my Readers

    About the Author

    Dedication

    The Vikings: a strong, and proud group that came from the very northernmost region of the western parts of Europe. They were from freezing temperatures. They raided, pillaged and plundered, but there was so much more to them. Although they were stalwart as warriors, they had great passion for farming and other more *mundane* tasks.

    I dedicate this book to history; to those who helped to give some of us the warrior spirit; but also the compassion to know right from wrong and fight for what we believe in.

    To those who liken themselves to be warriors, I salute you.

    Other Titles by Cait Perez

    The MacRae Series

    The Silver Eyed Warrior

    Amber Flame

    Highland Beginning

    Independent Titles

    No Home in Time

    Taming the Free Spirit

    A Simple Thank You

    Fourth Time a Charm

    A Maiden’s Beauty

    Which Love to Choose

    The Unwilling Groom

    Disclaimers

    **

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. If I accidentally managed to make any one of my characters seem like you, it was not intentional, and I hope they are the good guys.

    **

    Some of the characters may be historic and were real, but their behaviors in the author’s writing reflect traits that coincide with the plot and may not be completely historically accurate.

    **

    The language used in this historical fiction book comes roughly from the medieval era. During this historic era, there were no standardized spelling rules. Many people used the same words in different ways. Due to the lack of standardized spelling and even use of some words, the reader may find that my word choices do not coincide with their beliefs and perceptions. That is the literary license given authors; to do our best with the information that we have.

    **

    Unfortunately, there are no people still alive who lived in Medieval Europe to ask for appropriate word use or spelling.

    Prologue

    The stench was unbearable. Urine, feces, rotten food and the remnant odors of rotting bodies permeated her nose even though she breathed through many layers of wool held to her face, and pinched her nose shut. The odor was so strong she could taste it.

    She sat quietly in the corner of the furthest cell, behind the small raised pallet that held a mold-covered straw mattress and three large, and very noisy, rats. She prayed that the rats would not come her way, she feared she may scream out from fright.

    The cell was dark and damp; water inches deep on the floor, the rancid and stagnant liquid sticking to her feet, ankles, and the bottom of her gown.

    Above she heard the noises of a great battle. She closed her eyes tightly and wished herself anywhere but the dungeon. She wished for a day before the Vikings came to their small clan in the northernmost region of Scotland. She prayed that her gods would save her from their eyes, and prayed her family would survive the battles that raged above her head.

    Her father, Dormund, son of Davit, was a great Celtic warrior. His spirit was strong and his strength came from his ancestors, the picts who first populated Scotland. He wielded his sword with the strength of ten men. Nanina, named after the Scots god of peace, Nanna, helped her father to keep his calm when he would otherwise lose his composure. She learned well the benefits of staying calm. She prayed, now, to Nanna; she prayed to maintain her own calm through the ordeal.

    She stayed in the shadows, hiding low within the edge of stench in the dungeon. She kept her gasps and cries silent to keep herself safe.

    Her father had led her to this dungeon cell hours earlier. Nanina, stay to the shadows. Hide in the cell at the end. Do not fear, my love. I will not let them find you as long as a single breath flows through my lungs.

    The noises of battle continued for so long that Nanina fell asleep, fear overwhelming her ability to stay alert. Resting her head against the pallet on the raised dais, she felt herself safe enough to rest.

    After what was only a few moments she heard pounding above. Someone was kicking and pounding at the door that led to where she hid. A thin beam of light emerged from above. Nanina cowered even further into the corner, covering her head with the dark wool cloak. She listened intently, her hand over her mouth to mask the sound of her ragged breathing and waited.

    A door slammed open at the other end of the corridor. No one spoke, but there were the sounds of grumbling and complaints. Another door slammed open, then another. Two more doors opened abruptly before the door to the chamber in which she hid was opened. She pulled herself down into the dank dungeon water and stopped breathing. Only her eyes were uncovered so she could see the three large men standing in the doorway.

    The man in the center was largest, his shoulders nearly covering the entire width of the opening. He was breathing heavily and looking around the room. He picked up a fur-lined boot and scowled at the muck that stuck to the balance of his boot. He tapped it with a large axe; the scum falling into the resting water with a splash. Then he looked to his cohorts. They peered into the cell, as well. Shaking their heads they left the cell. None of the men saw her hiding in the corner.

    As soon as she thought they had passed she let out a quiet gasp of air, having been holding her breath.

    Then a voice spoke in a language she could not understand. The man said Well, what have we here?

    Chapter 1

    Nanina stopped breathing again, praying that they would continue on, thinking the noise was nothing but a rat. The largest of the men stepped back into the cell. The other two stood outside of the door. Theo, you will not find what you seek in there. All I see are rats.

    Then you need to check your eyes. There is a very large rat hiding in the corner. Look for yourself. Theo said as he pointed his battle-ready axe into the corner where Nanina crouched. She tried with all her might to keep herself still.

    One of the other men looked again, into the corner where she was and he gasped. "There is someone there!" he called to the third man.

    Yorick, are you seeing things, or are you mad? Turin, the third man asked his friend.

    No, I see someone. Yorick said as he stepped, splashing urine and stagnant water all over, toward the huddled mass in the corner.

    Nanina cowered even further into the corner, clasping at the wool and trembling with fear. She did not understand the men, but it was clear that they had seen her.

    Where is my family? she asked in her own druid Gaelic. The men laughed at her speech.

    She is a woman. Turin said and spit in the wastewater at her feet. He reached down and grasped what he thought was her arm but instead caught the top of her head, pulling her to her feet by her hair. Who are you? he asked.

    Nanina looked frightened beyond tears but she stood her full height and thrust her chin forward. She, of course, had no knowledge of their language, so she stood silently in front of the three very large Vikings.

    What is your name? Yorick asked slower, as though slowing his speech would render her capable of understanding another language.

    Theo looked to his friends and smiled as he shook his head. She will not be able to understand you. He said. Then he looked at the woman. He pointed to himself and said Theodor Nass. He then pointed to Yorick and Turin, and told her their names. Once he introduced the men, he pointed to her.

    Nanina was a bright young woman and understood what he wanted next. Nanina, daughter of Dormund. She said proudly. Where is my father?

    Theo did not know what she asked. Instead he scowled at the woman who, although tall for a druid woman, was dwarfed by the height and girth of the Vikings. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her abruptly from the dungeon cell. Her feet slipped on the slime that was built up on the floor of the chamber and nearly fell, but Theo tightened his grip on the woman and pulled her to his chest. His mind and body noted the softness of her curves against his hardened warrior muscles.

    Where are you taking me? she asked him, pulling back against his grip. He merely tightened his hold on her and pulled her from the dungeon.

    When they reached the steps he shoved her forward, following Turin. Yorick brought up the rear, after Theodor. She took two steps up and slipped on the slime that was stuck to the soles of her boots. Again, Theo rescued her from falling and held her by her hips as she continued up the stairs and into the grassy earth above. She slapped at his hands. Theo laughed and squeezed his fingers into her soft curves. She swallowed a shudder, refusing to show them she was afraid.

    When they reached the top of the steps, Nanina looked around. The land was littered with dead people, both druid and Viking. She let out a sob and lifted her hand to her mouth. The cloak was still wrapped around her head, only her eyes were exposed. The Viking invaders thought this was unusual.

    What is wrong with her face that she keeps it hidden? Turin asked.

    Yorick shrugged and reached past Theo to tug the cloth from her head, but she held it tightly beneath her chin. Theo pushed Yorick’s hand away. Leave her be for now. He said. I will need to ask her questions.

    Yorick nodded and lowered his hand. I suppose we will not be knowing, Turin. She must be hideous beneath that cloth. He joked.

    Theo glared at his friends and then looked at the back of the small woman who was still walking slowly, trying to absorb the destruction that was all around her. Not a single small hut was standing; they smoldered with fire and smoke. She blinked her eyes almost continuously, fighting back tears as more and more of her family and clan were identified through the blood and mud of the battlefield.

    You killed them all! she cried out, turning and lifting her small hands to pound against the leather vest of her captor. You didn’t even leave the children! Why do you leave me alive? Why am I not also dead? she asked.

    Theo looked at Turin who shrugged. They knew she was clearly upset but could not understand her language to answer her questions.

    All of a sudden Nanina jumped and ran forward crying loudly. Theo reached for her but missed. Father! No! You cannot be gone! she cried out, falling on her knees beside a man who looked to be very powerful. You had so much strength. These Vikings could not have killed you! There are only three of them! she lowered her head into her father’s chest and tried to feel his heartbeat, but he was gone; already cold.

    Theo put his hands gently on Nanina’s shoulders and tried to coax her from the man’s side. Come. You should not have to see this. He whispered into her woolen cloak. He inhaled before he stood with her. She held the odors of the dungeon; that of stagnant water, human waste, and rot, but there was a hint of flowers, not an unpleasant scent. He closed his eyes and tried to identify the flower as she shoved him away.

    She stinks, Theo. Turin said. We don’t know how long she was in that hole. He added.

    Theo nodded, but he felt heat in his cheeks as he recalled the hints of pleasant flowers. He reached again toward her and held Nanina’s shoulders in his large hands. I think that was her father. A great warrior. He said.

    The other two men nodded, agreeing with him. We will bury him in a grave of his own, with honor, and burn the others. Yorick said to Theo and Turin. Do you have a shovel? he asked Nanina as he gestured in a digging motion.

    She glared and flung her arm out harshly, pointing toward a burned building not far from where they stood. Turin looked guiltily toward the hut, certain there was probably not a shovel worth using in the burned-out ruins.

    You will be using a stick to dig, I see. Theo said. We will give the man an honorable burial and will pray to our gods that he has safe passage to Valhalla. Nanina had no idea how they were honoring her father’s strength as a great warrior. She only knew he was dead and they were saying strange things.

    The three men walked, Theo dragging Nanina, toward a tree that was a distance from the death and ruined huts. Turin stabbed at the ground with his broadsword while Yorick used his axe to break the ground. Then they used large, flat rocks to scoop the loosened dirt. Nanina began to panic, thinking the men meant to bury her alive.

    No! I will not let you do that! she struggled and cried out, the tears no longer something she thought to hide.

    Theo looked at her curiously and then realized, based on where her frightened eyes were looking, that she might have thought they were going to kill and bury her. He turned her toward him, never letting go, and shook his head while pointing from her to the hole in the ground.

    She calmed a bit but the tears still would not stop flowing. Theo thought he might be able to get her to calm if she was cooled off. He reached for the cloak that was still wrapped around her head. She turned her face away and tugged the cloth tighter around her face.

    She must be very ugly. Turin said. She hides her face with determination.

    Theo nodded and Yorick left them standing there to retrieve the body of Dormund, son of Davit. He carried the man to the shallow grave and laid him into it. The man’s sword was rested across his chest and then they covered dirt over the grave.

    Nanina’s bright blue eyes looked at Theo, startled by their unexpected honor. When Dormund was completely covered and the men used the flat rock to tamp the dirt tightly around him, Theo closed his eyes and said something in his own language. His voice was deep and soothing, much like vocal velvet.

    Lo, There do I see my Father, and

    Lo, there do I see my Mother, and

    Lo, There do I see my Brothers and my Sisters and

    Lo, There do I see my people back to the beginning, and

    Lo they do call to me, and bid me take

    My place among them in the halls of Valhalla,

    Where the brave will live forever.

    His voice was low and with a rhythmic cadence. It was calming and Nanina instinctively knew he was speaking a prayer.

    Nanina bowed her head and prayed to her druid gods to grant safe passage to her father’s spirit.

    Come spirits across the ocean

    Join with your brother who waits here

    Take him across to the bright land

    Take him across moor and meadow

    Take him across a calm sea

    Take him across a blissful ocean

    Peace and joy on the day of his death

    As he finds his way to the white sun.

    When all the prayers were spoken, Theo grabbed Nanina’s arm again and pulled her harshly away from the grave. He looked around for a hut that was not ruined to enter. Where do you go, Theodor? Yorick asked. Are you looking to enjoy your war spoils? he added, and wagged his eyebrows at Nanina.

    The young woman gasped, knowing full well what that gesture meant. No! she cried out again and bit Theo’s hand. He let go of her and she began to run but was caught within two steps by Yorick and Turin.

    Witch! Turin said and backhanded her across the face for what she had done to his leader. You bit him? Are you an animal? he asked.

    Nanina’s eyes flashed with heat and anger as she looked from one man to the other. She glanced at Theo and saw that he was holding his hand, blood streaming between his fingers.

    She grinned at him, showing him that she was not sorry for hurting him. He walked up to his cohorts and grasped her arms again. This time he pulled a length of rope from his belt and tied her hands behind her back.

    A long lead was left and he held it, pushing her forward toward the larger building that she had been hiding below.

    You want to bite like a dog, then I will treat you like one. Theo said and pushed her down to her knees. Crawl! he commanded.

    Turin and Yorick laughed and teased the woman. She did not know what they were saying, but she knew that they mocked and hated her. Not nearly as much as she hated them.

    She crawled with difficulty, her gown stopping her with each step on her knees. The wool that was wrapped so tightly around her face was now falling loose and she cursed the men who tied her and who could now see her if they were to look.

    The three men followed her, so none could see her face. She lowered her head so her hair covered most of her face. She led them, tied at the wrists, to the large building and then moved to stand so she could scale the steps.

    No. You will crawl. Theo said again, and pushed down on her shoulders to keep her on her knees. You wish to be an animal, so be it. I will toss you like a dog in the hall. He said.

    She fought the urge to turn around and glare at the men, determined that they would not see her face. Turin stepped in front of the others to open the door. He chanced a glance at her face. She turned her face down quickly but not before Turin got a good look at her.

    His eyes opened wide and a large smile crossed his lips. Before him was a beauty without compare. Even through the dirt from the dungeon and the hair fallen across her face, he could see she had fair skin, with a few freckles. Her bright blue eyes were framed by dark brown, nearly black lashes that were very long. Her nose was straight and slightly up-turned at the tip. Her dark brown hair shone with health. It hung down her back to below her hips in loose curls. Her lips were full, even when they sneered at him.

    He looked to Theo and Yorick. I don’t think she hid a hideous face. He said. Theo’s eyebrows rose at that for only a slight moment.

    I do not care how she looks. She is nothing but a witch. She is an animal who deserves to be treated as such. Theo said; refusing to look at her face. He already felt the reaction his body had to hers, he did not wish to have that enhanced by beauty.

    They went into the building and Theo looked for the dogs. He did not see any, but was able to see where they would have lain in front of a large fire pit in the center of a great room. He pushed Nanina into the room with the bottom of his foot, still on her knees. She fell to her stomach and rose again, glaring back at Theo who smirked at her. When she crossed the doorway he cut the bindings loose.

    Nanina sat, rubbing her wrists for a moment before she was pushed forward. Crawl like the dog you are. Theo said and pushed her toward the pit. You will be sleeping here until we decide when you will die.

    Yorick looked at Turin with a surprised look in his face. He whispered from the doorway once Theodor was far enough away. He doesn’t mean to kill her, does he?

    Turin shrugged and both men left the room and sought out a place to lay their heads.

    Theo tied the rope back to her wrists, looser this time but still tight enough that she would not be able to get loose. Then he tied the other end of the rope to the rusty iron grate that surrounded the pit. Sleep. He said and pushed her to the ground. She could not catch herself; her hands were behind her, so when she fell her cheek hit the iron grate, cutting the skin from her nose to the base of her eye across her cheekbone. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. She felt the blood begin to stream down her cheek to her throat.

    Nanina continued to look down so that the men could not see her face. She did not want them to see her, she did not want to give them a chance to identify her, or know her for the daughter of a great warrior. She did not want them to be in her home. She did not want them to see she was now injured. She refused to appear weak. She shook her head so her hair hid most of her face, curled into a small ball, her arms uncomfortable behind her, and closed her eyes to sleep.

    Theo, once he was satisfied that Nanina was sleeping, left the fire pit and walked to a table. He sat down on the floor and lifted his legs to rest on the broken table. He looked around the room and was pleased with what he saw.

    I am glad we did not damage this building. I will claim this as mine. He said, leaning back and resting the back of his head on the palms of his hands. This is a good place.

    A noise sounded outside. Horses were coming across the burning bailey. Theo jumped up and ran to the front door just as Turin and Yorick emerged from the back of the building. Who is it? Turin asked.

    Kjell. Theo said without turning around.

    The other two groaned, Turin running his fingers through his hair. We have lost this plot of land if Kjell has come.

    Kjell Salomon! Welcome to our winnings. Theo shouted to the commander of the northern army.

    "Your winnings? You took this village by yourself then? Kjell jested, the man to his right chuckled. And by whose authority do you keep these lands?"

    By my own authority and that of spoils of battle. I won this battle and as I lead this meager band of warriors, I will take the claim I am entitled. Theo said. Turin and Yorick nodded behind him, both holding onto the hilts of their weapons, waiting to be prompted into a fight.

    Well, certainly you will allow me and my men… Kjell gestured to the seventy-plus men behind him to partake of your…ah…spoils.

    Theo looked to the men who stood behind Kjell. Ulf. He nodded to the man at Kjell’s right. You will not be taking anything with you when you leave tomorrow.

    Ulf’s face turned red from his neck upward. He glared at Theo and began to unsheathe his sword but the men standing behind Theodor stood straighter and looked very dangerous. Ulf moved his hand from his sword’s hilt.

    Now, Ulf, I am certain that Captain Nass only means to ensure that he has first take. Kjell said, reaching toward his right hand man.

    Ulf coughed and nodded. He pulled his horse back half a length behind Kjell’s.

    Now, as I was enquiring. Will you show me the hospitality my rank deserves? I hear the druids are a very hospitable bunch.

    Theo looked at the men and then back to Kjell. He nodded and then spoke. You come. The rest of you, stay outside. The weather is fair.

    There was a collective grumble from the men behind Salomon but Kjell raised his hand. That is fair for this night. Tomorrow we will see about better accommodations.

    Tomorrow you will ride from my spoils. Theo said matter of factly.

    Kjell looked at Theo, expressionless. We shall see. He said.

    Theo nodded, hiding his expression behind the warrior’s guise.

    Theo’s men, Kjell, and Ulf all entered the large hut after Theo. The large Viking was not willing to show the woman who was tied to the fire pit so he walked quickly past.

    What is in there? Kjell asked, pointing at the doorway they had just passed.

    Nothing. It is full of broken furniture and flooded with water. We did very good work destroying things. Theo said.

    Kjell only half-heartedly accepted the answer but decided he could do some exploring later. Do you know this place, yet?

    We only just finished our battle. We have been busy with some duties. I have not even been inside for more than a few minutes.

    Turin and Yorick were rushing to the rooms they had laid claim to. Their exit did not escape Kjell’s notice. Where are you going? Do you already know where you sleep?

    The men did not turn around but they stopped and nodded.

    I will see these rooms. Kjell commanded. The other men could be seen dropping their shoulders in resignation. Turin sighed and nodded.

    Kjell followed the men to a large chamber that held a large, comfortable bed. Very good. I will stay here.

    Theo shrugged to his friends and looked apologetically at them. Then where will my men sleep? They claimed this room first.

    Kjell smiled, it was not a friendly thing. Ah, but rank has its privileges, does it not? he asked.

    Ulf tried to push past the other three men but Theo stood in the doorway, his shoulders taking up too much space for the smaller man to pass through. You will let me pass, Captain. He ordered.

    Theo looked into Ulf Rasmussen’s eyes and Ulf took a step back. The fire was shooting from Theo’s hazel eyes, the browns becoming dominant, only overwhelmed by the golden shades that sparked when Theo was angered.

    Ulf. You will not be coming in this room. Find your own. Kjell said to his second.

    But… Ulf tried to object.

    No. I will rest here. You find another place to lay your ugly head. Kjell said. And an ugly head it was. One of his eyes had been lost to a battle, he had a large scar from his brow to his jaw on that side. A part of his nose had been sliced off in another battle, leaving the side flat. His lips were blistered

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