Page 1 of Highlander’s Viking Sin

Prologue

The carriage trundled along the winding path. Isla Macrae sat with her child, Andrew. He was a child of ten years, and how it amazed her that he could grow so quickly. It had only seemed yesterday when she had been a girl of eighteen, giving birth to him, swaddling him in a blanket, and swearing that she would protect him from the world. At the time, things had seemed so simple. Her eyes had been wide and bright, her heart filled with love. How things could change…

Whenever she looked at Andrew, she was reminded of his father. She tried her best not to think about him, but it was often impossible when Andrew’s looks favored him so much. He had an intense look about it; his hair was a fair shade of blond, so blond that it looked white when the sun caught it. Isla herself had auburn hair. There was no doubting that she was a child of the Highlands. But Andrew, well, people often asked their questions. Isla never answered them, though. It was her business and her business alone. It was her pain, too. Her pain to bury deep within her heart and never share with another soul.

“Look out there, Andrew!” she gasped, draping her arm around Andrew’s shoulders to point to the world outside. It was made up of greens and browns, of lush trees and wide fields and a bright blue sky that offered hope and salvation to any that looked upon it. Andrew smiled as he tried to spot birds and other animals as the wagon trundled along. His smile was infectious, and his good nature was always a treat. Sometimes, though, Isla worried that he had too much of his father in him. Sometimes she worried about the man he was going to turn out to be. She was the only one who knew the terrible secret—that his father was a Viking.

It wasn’t as much of a sin as it used to be in the Highlands. Years ago, so her father said, there was much bad blood between the Highlanders and the raiders from Norway. That had all changed when two brothers came along and settled, marrying Highland brides. Their stories had reached all the corners of the Lowlands and Highlands and had inspired many others to set aside their differences and unite. However, that didn’t mean there weren’t other Vikings out there who posed a threat. There was always danger, especially recently as there had been some awful business with Vikings who had threatened to destroy all the trust that had been built. Isla tried to stay out of these matters, though. She wasn’t a warrior or a diplomat. She was just a woman, a mother, and the only thing that mattered to her was giving her child a good life.

Recently she had been annoyed with some of the looks she had been getting from neighboring villagers. She and her father lived on a small island off the coast of Scotland. It was a small and humble home, and for the most part, she could keep to herself. There was another, slightly larger village on the nearby island. This had been settled by Erik Hoffstad, a legendary name around the area, and was now led by his son, Emmel. She winced as she thought of him and the argument they had had before she left. He had tried to convince her that it wasn’t safe to travel, but as far as she was concerned, it was never safe! If she spent her life in fear then she would never do anything, and that wasn’t the kind of example she wanted to set for her child.

“Yer aunt is gaeing tae be sae surprised tae see how much ye hae grown,” Isla said.

Andrew grinned. “One day, I’m gaeing tae be a giant!” he said.

Even now at ten years old, he seemed so small to her, but all men started off as small, she supposed. The trouble was that they grew and grew, and most of them became terrible trouble. She leaned down and kissed him on the head, wishing that she could tell him everything. As far as he and anyone else knew, his father had left Scotland a long time ago. That was the only thing she had ever told him about his father. She feared that now she was getting older, the questions would be more prevalent, and eventually, she would have no choice but to tell him the truth, and then she feared he might wish to go to Norway to meet his father. It was only natural, she supposed, and in truth, a part of her believed it was only right for him to spend time with the man who had sired him. But still, danger lurked in every choice.

At least being with her sister would provide her with some respite, and perhaps now was the time to finally reveal her secret to someone. Isla had spent ten years holding on to it, etching it deep within her heart. The thought of sharing it with anyone seemed wrong, but she needed advice, and her sister was far enough removed from her village that Isla could trust in her confidence.

There was a moment when Isla thought she caught a flicker of movement outside the carriage. Anxiety flashed through her mind, and she held Andrew a little bit more closely.

“What is it, Ma?” he asked.

“I’m nae sure, Andrew. It’s probably nothing,” Isla brushed off with a thin smile. But her instincts were proven right. Shadows fell across the wagon, and there was a thunder of hooves. The carriage stopped abruptly. The jerking motion almost flung Isla and Andrew from their seats. Her eyes went wide with fear as she heard loud voices and a curse, then cries of pain. Her heart-shaped face paled, and her fingers dug into Andrew, pressing him tightly against her as though she wanted to be his shield. Thoughts whirled through her mind. She scanned the wagon for weapons, but there were none. She glanced at the door. It was her only hope.

“Stay quiet and follow me,” she said in a whisper, moving to the far side of the wagon. She opened the door and intended to scramble away as quickly and as quietly as possible, hoping that whatever bandits had attacked the wagon would be satisfied with the gold they found inside and not bother searching for the passengers. However, as she found out when she flung open the door and saw a brutish man standing before her, these were no ordinary bandits. They were Vikings.

At the sight of the Viking, Isla pushed Andrew back into the wagon and aimed for the other door. When she opened this one, she was greeted with a familiar sight. There he was, in all his grand, golden splendor. His hair was just as long, his beard neatly trimmed, and his blue eyes had the same intense glow as they had all those years ago. She had swooned before him them, but now the only thing she felt was fear.

She froze in panic. She had never wanted it to happen like this. This was not the way she wanted Andrew to meet his father.

Rune Dolph arched his eyebrow. His lips curled into a smile when he saw her.

“Isla, it’s been a long time. You’re looking as beautiful as ever,” he said in his smooth Norwegian accent. A lump formed in Isla’s throat. She trembled with a mixture of fear and anger while she placed both her hands on Andrew’s shoulders. Dolph beckoned for her to leave the wagon. She knew that she had no choice. Her gaze darted about, looking for any path to safety, but they were all closed off from her. The Viking she had seen on the other side, a huge man with a beard the color of flames, came back around to join the group. There were half a dozen of them. She glanced past Dolph to see the others gathered around the wagon driver. Through their legs, she could see the beaten and bloodied man whimpering in pain like a dying animal. Isla wasn’t sure if these Vikings were the type to show mercy or not.

“And who is this young man?” Rune Dolph asked, looking at the boy.

“I’m Andrew, and ye are nae gaeing tae get away with this! We’ve beaten back Vikings before, and we’ll dae it again!” he cried. He had the fearlessness of a child, a warrior. Rune Dolph pursed his lips. Was that pride in his face? When their eyes met, Isla could see that he knew. The resemblance must have been plain to him.

“What dae ye want with us?” she asked in a trembling whisper.

Rune Dolph smiled, as though this was a happy reunion and the most normal thing in the world.

“You don’t have to be worried, Isla. Everything is going to be fine,” he said. His words were punctuated by the groans of the beaten wagon driver. Isla had no choice but to stand there, afraid that her past had caught up to her and was never going to allow her to rest.