His Captive Bride by Shelly Thacker Page B

longer matters . Arrogant oaf! He could take his threats and be damned. Whatever Valbrand’s intentions, she did not intend to be here long enough for him to make good on them. Gaston and his men would soon find her. Or she would find some way to escape. A way home to her little Giselle.
    She remembered the last words she had said as they parted. I love you, ma petite papillon . I will be back soon.
    Soon! Giselle had replied. I love you, Maman .
    Avril blinked hard against a sudden rush of tears in her eyes. If it took every last bit of strength and breath and will she possessed, she would return home to her daughter. Soon .
    Peering into the darkness ahead, she tried to make out the path her abductor followed, but could barely even see it. Both Valbrand and his destrier, however, seemed familiar with it. They galloped along the cliffs that soared at such dizzying height above the sea, until the trail widened into a road that veered inland. Off to the north, she glimpsed what looked like flickering lights in the distance, near the ocean.
    A town , she thought, a spark of hope flaring inside her. If she managed to escape from her captor, mayhap she would find help there.
    She kept that hope burning inside her as the road forked and they left the coast far behind, riding toward distant hills that rose like dark sentinels along the horizon. A short time later, Valbrand reined his horse to a canter as they entered a forest.
    The air was cooler here, rich with the pungent scent of pine needles. Bushes laden with ripe berries sprawled across the path. Crushed under the stallion’s hooves, the fruit gave off a tangy, pungent aroma. Avril heard owls hooting and animals scurrying through the underbrush.
    She tried to keep her thoughts on escape, and home. And Giselle’s sweet, smiling face. And the hope of finding Josette safe and well.
    But as evergreen branches blotted out most of the moonlight, renewed fear closed in on her, like a hand tightening around her neck, squeezing off her air.
    “Wh-where are we going?” she choked out.
    “To the althing-vellir ,” he said tightly. “The place of the althing .”
    A few moments later the trees thinned and the forest gave way to an open meadow where a throng of men awaited—at least two score, gathered at the base of a rocky outcropping so tall that its upper reaches could not be seen in the darkness. A waterfall spilled over one edge, splashing down from the night sky in a glistening cascade, ending at the bottom in a clear pool and a moonlit cloud of mist.
    Avril’s mouth went dry with shock and fear as she stared at the brawny warriors, most clad only in leggings, as Valbrand was. The crowd was a veritable sea of sun-bronzed muscle.
    And at the foot of the wall of stone, apart from the others, stood a line of men—each holding a sobbing, hysterical woman by his side.
    She had not realized that there were more captives here. “God’s breath, what is this?” Icy dread seized her and she struggled against her abductor’s steely hold. “What do you intend to—”
    “Do not be afraid,” Valbrand said in a low tone. “No one is going to hurt you.”
    She was no doubt supposed to find that soothing. But she could feel his voice rumbling through his broad chest, and it only sharpened her panic. “Nay, I do not believe you! I—”
    “Avril, cease,” he commanded, holding her still as he reined his destrier to a halt, at a place just beyond the trees where dozens of other horses were picketed. “Your questions will be answered and all will be well. And I will stay by your side—”
    “That is not reassuring!”
    Muttering an oath, he swung his leg over the stallion’s back and leaped to the ground in one smooth motion. “We are late, milady. Hurry.”
    He reached up to help her down, but just then she spotted a familiar figure in the middle of the line of men and women. “ Josette! ” Avril slipped from the horse’s back without help, despite her bound