Nena by Ann Boelter (digital book reader txt) 📕

she lost as Tryggr had suggested? He couldn’t believe that, but her erratic direction changes were clear. Was she injured? None of his men, other than the pathetic excuse for a guard had reported even seeing her, and Jarl doubted that man could have injured her if he’d wanted to. And there had been no blood trail. But what else could explain it? Was she sick? Delirious? That would make him feel better about the why, but he knew it wasn’t true. She’d been perfectly lucid that morning, and there was no way she could have pulled off such an escape without her full faculties and planning. After riding hard all morning, the tracker stopped to deliver his latest report.

“Jarl, we’ll soon be approaching the village on the Great Sea. It’s the last village we were to attack before port. If we proceed any further, we are likely to warn them of our presence before we move on them later with our full force.”

“If she’s gone there, I think it’s too late for that already,” Jarl conceded.

Tryggr drew in a deep exaggerated breath and stroked his red beard. “Hmm. What was it Gunnar said when we were making plans in front of her? Who can she tell?”

“You were right, my friend. It appears this village is lost.” But Jarl was elated. He cared not a whit for the bounty Nena’s warning to this village would cost them. There were plenty of other villages. Now he knew where she was going and why. Now her path made sense. Most importantly, he also knew that once her mission there was complete, she would resume going south, back to her home in the Teclan stronghold.

Jarl knew from the tracker, that even though he was pushing them hard, Nena was making better time and had increased her initial lead. But now that he could predict her next move, that changed everything. He thought back over his maps of the area. The village should be another half day’s ride to the northwest. If he headed straight west now, he would save that time, plus whatever time it took her to deliver her message and ride south. And from the village she would ride straight south, of that he was certain. Even with her head start, he had a chance now to cut her lead significantly—maybe even cut her off.

Jarl ordered the two men with the slowest horses to continue following her trail to the northwest, so as not to lose her in case he was mistaken. Keeping the rest of the men, the tracker, Tryggr and Altene, Jarl spurred his stallion due west.

It was late when he finally ordered them to stop. In his excitement and anticipation he would have ridden all night, but he knew the tracker could not perform in the dark. Starting with first light, Jarl would relinquish the lead back to the man. Following her trail was one thing—even a less experienced tracker could do that in most circumstances. If a few tracks were missed here or there, the trail was still easy to find. But to pick up a trail they were crossing over was a different story. If a few tracks were missed then, the entire trail could very well be passed over and lost. Jarl did not trust his own eyes with that responsibility.

He shook out his furs under the stars, as all the men had done since they left the main camp. The weather was fair so tents were unnecessary, and the time it took to set them up and tear them down was precious time to sleep. Jarl heard light footsteps approaching from behind him and turned to find Altene. She smiled at him, though he could see she was weary.

“Good evening, my lord.” She stepped closer to him, stopping just shy of touching him. The light pleasant scent of her floral fragrance filled the small space between them. The breeze lifted the soft material of her dress and Jarl felt it brush against his hand at his side. She tipped her face up to look at him and whispered. “Shall I pleasure you tonight?”

Jarl looked at her thick braided hair and dark almond-shaped eyes in the moonlight and pictured Nena. How could he have ever thought they looked alike? Other than basic coloring, he could see virtually no similarities in them now at all. Jarl reached up and gripped both of Altene’s arms firmly above her elbows. Gently he pushed her back half a step and held her there.

“Do not offer yourself to me again. You will not be returning to my furs. Whether I find Nena or not. There will be nothing more between us. You need to look to your future and it is not with me.”

Altene just stared at him.

“Do you understand?” Jarl asked.

She nodded.

“Very well. Go get some rest. Tomorrow will be another long day.”

Nena halted the mare in the middle of a clearing. Someone had been pacing them in the bushes for the past half mile, but had yet to reveal themselves. She knew by the lush vegetation that they were close to the Great Sea. She hoped it was someone from her aunt’s tribe, but in case it was not, she wanted to meet them in the open, where she had room to maneuver. She sat and waited.

Within minutes a short heavyset warrior with a spear stepped from the bushes in front of her. He was too far away for her to see if he bore the wave tattoo of the Sea Tribe on his arm.

“What is your business, woman?” he demanded.

“Are you of the Sea Tribe?” she asked.

“I am.”

“I need to speak with your chief.”

“Give me your message; I will relay it to him.”

Nena was already irritable from lack of sleep, and she chafed at the delay. She didn’t have time for this. She pushed the mare forward. Using the height of being mounted to her advantage, she spoke in her most imperious tone. “Tell him