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Chapter Thirty-Six

The Masked King was a shadow of his former self. Someone had beaten him very badly and the ginger hair was matted with blood. The mood Ketil was in he wanted to inflict yet more damage though he restrained himself. How could he put Miriam in an impossible position? If the whoremonger were to die … And yet, it was tempting to ask for answers before he left. For good? To see how well received he might be after so many years, four of them in total.

Ketil brushed the unwelcome thoughts aside. Becoming Jarl would make what he really wanted to happen impossible. Or would it? He could always abduct her.

Exasperated with himself, not even smiling at the thought of carrying her off, Viking fashion, he kicked the prisoner’s leg. The body rocked and that was all. So he kicked harder, thinking that handfasting was out of the question now, as was a marriage planned to take place on the traditional day to honour Frigg, the wife of Odin. While he reckoned he had already met the bride price there wo
Lady Jas

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