Page 2 of Ulf's Destiny
The woman slammed into his chest, looking dazed and on the verge of tears.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, half supporting her weight. He still could not see or hear anything that might have scared her in the bushes. Besides, now that he was holding her, he could see that she was distraught rather than afraid.
“Forgive me, I’m so sorry,” she said on a sob.
Forgive her? What for?
When white-hot flames seared his left side, Ulf understood she was asking his forgiveness not for something she had done but for what she was about to do.
He staggered back, incredulity and pain causing him to stare at the Saxon. Just as he’d thought, there was a dagger stained with blood in her right hand.
The minx had just stabbed him.
And, having realized that the first strike had not killed him, she was about to do it again. Except that, to his surprise, she hesitated. This was her mistake—and his chance to save himself. Grabbing her by the wrist, he immobilized her before she could move, forcing her to let go of the dagger she’d been holding.
“Oh no, you’re not.” Anger and pain had reduced his voice to a snarl. But really, how else was he supposed to react?
Now that he was out of immediate danger, Ulf started to think. The cut the woman had inflicted was severe, even if evidently not lethal, and it impeded his movements. He needed help. She might have a second weapon hidden about her person and he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop her for much longer if she was determined to strike again. He was losing blood, and his mind was rapidly clouding.
It was then that he remembered Haakon and Gytha. Were they still by the forge or had they gone back to their hut to finish what they had started on the wall? Would they hear him if he called out? Perhaps. It was his best chance anyway, and worth a try.
“Haakon!” he shouted. “Over here!”
His father’s friend would be more than enough to neutralize the woman.Ifhe had not disappeared to go bed his wife, of course. Thankfully, it seemed that he had not. A moment later,footsteps were heard. Haakon and Gytha, stirred by the urgency in his voice, were coming at a run.
“What the?—”
Instead of finishing his question, Haakon seized the woman, trapping both her arms by her sides. He would have seen the dagger at their feet and his bloodied tunic, and understood the situation in a heartbeat.
Ulf let out a sigh of relief when Gytha slipped an arm around his waist in support. All danger was past now. The frail woman would never be able to free herself from Haakon’s hold. The man was just too strong.
Incredibly, given the situation, a small laugh escaped Ulf’s lips. Had he really been wishing he would meet an adventurous woman only a moment ago? Well, his wish had been granted ten times over. The little fury who had jumped on him was all that was adventurous—and clever.
She had found the best way to approach him without raising his suspicions, or even giving him time to think. Had she run at him, dagger in hand, he would have easily stopped her. She was too slight to pose any challenge to a man like him. Had she just appeared and started a conversation, he might have wondered where she had come from and stayed on his guard. So she had boldly run at him, as if she were the one in danger, guessing that his protective instinct would take over and stop him from seeing her as a threat.
In order to stab him, she had needed to be close to him. But there was no way he would have taken a stranger in his arms. So she had ensured he had no choice but to hold her. Yes, she was clever. And far too intriguing for his liking.
Her hair was of the most unusual color, a very light brown streaked with—was it amber, gold, copper? Probably a combination of all three. The result was rather striking, and explained why he had thought of a flame when she hadappeared. Did she have Norse ancestry? It was not impossible, because her eyes were of a deep, intense blue, not unlike those of his aunt, Eyja, whom her husband called “Imp.”
Well, what should he call this stranger who had almost killed him? She-devil could be a good start.
“Here, Ulf,” Gytha said, pressing on his side with the blanket she’d taken from his basket. “We need to try and stem the blood.”
Blood. Yes. He was still bleeding, damn it!
Haakon let out a growl. “We need to get you back to your hut so you can lie down, that’s what we need to do. I’ll take the Saxon to Wolf while Gytha sees to your injury.” He glared at the woman who recoiled. “He will deal with her, and it won’t be pretty.”
Indeed. His grandfather was the undisputed leader of the village. Normally fair and measured, he might forget his legendary levelheadedness when he saw that someone had hurt his eldest grandson. Hurting the people he loved was the one thing guaranteed to bring out the wolf in him.
“Please. You need to let me go.”
Haakon snorted at the plea but something in the way the woman said those words tugged at Ulf’s gut. Her eyes were closed, she had not tried to disentangle herself from his friend’s hold. Instead, she was biting her bottom lip in an effort not to cry. Certainly not the attitude of a brazen assassin. If he hadn’t felt the sting of her cut, he would have sworn she was incapable of inflicting harm on anyone, and his instinct rarely failed him.
“Wait,” he told Haakon.
Before they did anything, he wanted to understand who this woman was and why she had thought to attack him, most especially why she had apologized before stabbing him. That was not the normal behavior of an enemy. He was sure they had never met, so she could notbehis enemy.
There had to be something more behind the attack than hatred toward him.
