Prologue

Skarthveit, Norseland

1095

"I will help you."

The woman whirled, her blonde plait swinging wildly as it loosened itself from its binding. She swept the stray locks, streaked with the beginnings of grey, away from her face and glared at the unknown youth who had emerged in silence from the shadows of the surrounding trees and now stood before her. "Who are you? What are you doing here? Spying on me? My warriors are close, I shall have you flogged—"

"You need help. I am offering my aid, lady." The intruder bowed his head in affected subservience then stepped forward to assist.

She stood her ground and glowered at the young Celt as he lifted his chin and met her gaze. He schooled his expression to ensure his features remained steady, unmoved, despite the gory presence of the body of a man, dead for just a few moments, who lay sprawled at this Viking noblewoman's elegant feet.

Her hands on her hips, she panted from her recent exertions. Even in the inky blackness of the night he could discern her flushed features, the residual rage etched there, now mingling with fear of discovery. Her initial fury spent, the consequences of her actions now beckoned. She was frightened, shocked perhaps, but still she tilted her head back, eyes narrowing as she regarded him. Her expression was haughty despite her predicament. "Why? Why are you here? Where did you come from?" she demanded. "Have you dared to follow me?"

He shrugged. "I can leave you, if you prefer." He made no move to do so however. She had no choice. He knew it, she knew it. He waited in silence.

"Very well," she capitulated. "Can you lift him?"

"Aye, I can. Where—?"

"Anywhere. He must not be found. Ever."

The youth nodded. He understood perfectly well. The cliffs then. He would toss the body into the churning waves below. If the dear Lord looked kindly upon his endeavours this night, the remains would be dashed to pieces on the rocks, then sink, never to surface again. Good riddance, and if he could extract some advantage for himself from the situation so much the better.

The woman watched him come forward, her agitation evident in the rapid tapping of her booted foot on the ground and in the stiffness of her spine.

He dropped to his haunches then bent to roll the dead man over onto his back and noted with grim satisfaction the blood still oozing from the single stab wound to his chest. The body was still warm, pliant, alive but moments ago. He had witnessed the altercation, heard the vicious accusations, seen with his own eyes the cold, hard fury of a vengeful woman. He had seen the flash of the blade as she struck, heard the death gurgle as the man crumpled, his final breath churning in his throat as he fought frantically to hang on to a life soon to be extinguished. It had been quick, he would grant her that. He glanced up at her, nodded his approval. This woman killed with ruthless efficiency .

"Get on with it. I need him gone."

"Of course, though I will require something from you in return."

She appeared unsurprised. "What?"

"Food. Two days' supply. Warm clothing, in the Viking style. A weapon. And your silence. No one should know I passed this way." On that last point he had no doubt that he and his unlikely accomplice were in perfect accord. Neither would wish to revisit this night's work.

She considered his request for barely moments, then nodded. "So be it. You will dispose of… of… that," she gestured with distaste to the bloodstained corpse in the flattened grass, "then meet me by yonder stand of trees in two hours' time. I shall meet your price."

He had no real cause to trust her, but did so anyway. The bargain was struck, and they both had much to lose. He quashed any lingering doubts and bent to his task. It was a simple enough matter to heft the dead weight onto his shoulder, legs to the front. The torso, arms, and head dangled down his back. He shifted a little to adjust the balance, then turned to stride away.

"Wait."

He turned at the imperious command. "Yes?"

"Do you know why?"

He did. He had seen and heard enough of the fierce and vicious quarrel that had preceded the flash of the woman's knife to know exactly why this vile piece of shit was dead. There were some who might regret the disappearance of this man whose corpse he now bore to a watery grave, one or two who might mourn his loss and wonder, but he suspected not many. The world was no less a place without such as this one. Still, it was not for him to say what the rights and wrongs were.

"How would I know? I am not from here, I am no one…"

She nodded, not disputing his assessment. "You will say nothing, ever. No one must know of this. "

"Of course." He inclined his head, his obeisance a given.

"You will never return. Ever."

He bowed his agreement and turned away once more. This time she did not call him back.

Ten minutes later he stood at the top of the cliff, his weight tipping forward infinitesimally, just enough to be able to glimpse the rocks below and the boiling waves that lashed them. He could hear the roar of the sea from here, greedy as it sucked in the meal he offered. The pale shadow of the cadaver bobbed for a few moments on the waves, then disappeared below the frothing, foaming surface.

It was done. He turned and walked back the way he had come, his mind mercifully blank as he sought a safe haven in which to wait out the agreed two hours.