A Viking's Betrothal (Book Two of The Sogn Series)

Chapter Six

Clare was already always hungry and she was especially hungry now that she was lost. Torsten's horse was becoming weary and his walk was becoming slower as he panted harder. The day was coming to an end and night was beginning to fall, the moon peering through one side of the sky as the sun settled on the other side.

The darker the sky became, the more she could see lights in the distance. It was vague and hard to see but she saw flickering orange and yellow as if multiple fires were lit. Clare urged the horse on and as they got closer, the trees became scarcer and the land became more open. It was then that Clare noticed the large wooden walls bordering around what looked to be a miniature castle surrounded by homes. It was a fort and she was so grateful to see civilization in front of her.

The guards stopped her, one approaching her and asking what her business was. She recognized him as one of the men she had run into earlier that day and he looked shocked but said, "Oh, it is you. Aye, come through. I will fetch you some food and water."

Clare's stomach grumbled the mention of food and she could not be more grateful to him, even though he was technically her husband's enemy.

He hurried to let the guards open the gates and they creaked open, screeching from the sound of metal and wood colliding slightly as the hinges turned the large wooden panels to allow her entrance.

Once through the gates he said, "I am Egan. Here, let me take your horse to the stables for you." He reached for the reins and helped Clare off. She nodded her appreciation with a slight grin, lowering her eyes briefly. She gulped when she glimpsed at his sheathed sword, hoping no one would discover her true identity and use a weapon on her.

Egan took her horse to the stables but before leaving he had pointed at a pub and inn where she could sit and rest as she waited for him. Clare entered the pub and the smell of warm bread and ale instantly hit her senses. It made her hum in relief.

She sat down, waiting for Egan to come back since she had no coin. As she sat, Clare observed drunken men laugh boisterously throughout the room and the feeling of being surrounded by happy, drunk men instantly hit her with a longing to be back with her husband and the others.

"You look to be in a daze," Egan's voice sounded from behind her and she turned around with a look of surprise. He said alarmed, "I did not mean to frighten you."

Egan chuckled lowly and Clare gave another soft smile. She was afraid to act herself in case she gained attention and she was also fatigued from her day. Riding a horse all day was already hard but with her aching joints lately it made it all the much worse.

"Let me get you something to eat."

"Thank you," Clare replied a bit too hastily. She was eager for food.

She watched as Egan walked up to the counter and it was then that she observed him from a distance. He could not have been but a few years older than herself. He had a short build, cropped chestnut colored hair, and freckles that covered his arms and partially his cheeks. His eyes were also brown and aside from the freckles, he was just a plain guy it seemed. Even Egan's character was ordinary but he did seem gentle and caring towards her.

He brought her a bowl of goat stew and a large plate of sliced bread that was warm to the touch. Egan watched as Clare ate every single bite and only after she had finished slurping the bowl did she look up embarrassed, "I apologize. I haven't eaten all day."

He shook his head and chuckled, "No need to be sympathetic. I have just never seen a lady eat so much in one sitting." He laughed again.

Clare's face turned pink and she felt hot from her embarrassment. It did unnerve her that Egan was laughing at her but she bit her tongue to refrain from retorting.

"So," She spoke, eagerly changing the topic, "How did it go between you and your friend after you met me earlier today? Were you able to save the town?"

Egan looked sorrowful and shook his head, "Nay, the Norse men left by the time our horses stepped foot in the village. Only a few of the Pagans were there but leavening at the time. However, another group of men were able to imprison one of them."

This information peaked her interest, "How so?" Clare wondered who it was and if she was close to them.

"Apparently the other Pagans did not notice him being contained. The incident occurred from an outbuilding and the men muffled the wretched boy's screams. We brought him back here and the lord who is in charge of this fort hopes to interrogate him for information on the whereabouts of the Pagans."

"Did he give a name?"

Egan looked confused and questioned her, "Why does a name matter?"

"Oh," She hesitated briefly, "I just always wondered what sort of names Pagan's are given."

"Birger, or so he says."

Clare knew who he was. Birger was a younger lad who had joined Roald on the raids. It was his first time raiding and he wanted to prove himself to his father who accused his son of being a weakling. He would surely break and give Roald's whereabouts to the Lord.

Clare chose her next words carefully, "May I see the Pagan? I am fascinated by the foreigners and how they strive so low to attack our lands. I would also personally like to spit in his face for taking me as a slave."

Egan laughed at her again making her cringe with ridicule but she didn't let him notice her anger towards him, "I am not in charge of the prisoner. I really think it is no place for a lady, especially one that was already captured once before but I am sure if you explain your reasoning to Lord Edward then he might be willing to allow it."

"And where can I find Lord Edward?" Clare pushed.

"My, my, you are a hasty and curious one. It is not wonder you got captured in the first place." He laughed again and Clare played along by laughing nervously despite her annoyance with him laughing at her so much.

"I can take you to him in the morning, if you would like?" You are more than welcome to a bath, fresh new clothes that are more fit for a lady, and a bed upstairs. The upstairs is an inn ran by Mary who can help you."

"I must thank you for everything," Clare commented, "If it were not for you I would be helpless."

"Oh, I would do anything out of the courtesy of just being a gentleman. I am just relieved that you are well."

"Alright then," She said more confidently now, "I thank you anyway."

Egan smiled at her and after they sat for a few more minutes making small chat, he gave pointed to the direction of the stairs where she went to meet Mary from within a hallway upstairs. Mary was an older woman who was plump with white hair. Even though she had the potential to be a sweet looking lady, she looked miserable and mean. She was just as mean too, being very short with Clare "Here are your clothes," she said shoving them at Clare to catch, "Here is your room," She said, shoving Clare into the room and pointing at the tub, "And there is your bath and bed. Do not come to me for anything else. I am only doing you this favor because Sir Egan insists on it."

Clare's eyebrows rose and as quickly as she opened her mouth to mutter a thank you, Mary slammed the door in her face.

"What a wretched old woman," Clare whispered to herself.

She turned around and smiled widely at the bath, relieved for that much. At least now she would be able to relax and have a nice rest before possibly meeting with Lord Edward.