The Escape

The Escape

Passionate Invader Series

A Viking Romance Novelette

Lizzie Ashworth

The Escape by Lizzie Ashworth

Passionate Invader Series

Copyright 2017 Lizzie Ashworth

2nd Edition 2020

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. This book is copyright material and must not be copied, translated, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

The Escape is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The Escape

A Viking Romance Novella, Part II

880 AD

Near Lichfield, England

A half-moon illuminated the narrow path as the couple rode east. Elspeth, Lady of Hystead, turned briefly to see the warrior Magnus behind her, his wide shoulders framed against the darkness, the light reflecting the gleam of his sword as they cantered over the beaten track. He had cautioned her not to speak as voices carried in the cool night air and others were surely about. But she didn’t have to speak or hear his voice to feel his attention. Looking again to the front as her mare swept through the shadows, Elspeth tossed back her hair and smiled.

Her elation only grew the further they rode from Hystead. For the first time in her life, she would make her own choices, determine her own future. She longed to celebrate her sudden independence, but their safety was far from assured. These were the dangerous borderlands between Dane-held lands and the environs of Anglo-Saxon homesteads. Not only facing uncertain threats ahead, behind them her absence would be noted at Hystead, the thanes called to arms, and a search begun.

Elspeth shifted in the saddle and renewed her grasp on the reins. She would not go back. Magnus had opened this path for her and she had eagerly rushed to this new horizon. No matter how sore she had become from the hours of their intense lovemaking, she was sure to be even more pained from the long journey they faced. But she felt little true distress from any physical discomfort. Each jog of the saddle only reminded her of the shattering pleasure this Dane had brought her, this captive warrior who had uncovered her heart and made it his own.

Finally they came to a shift in the land. With knees gripping the mare’s sides, Elspeth eased her mount down a steep slope. The path crossed a stream that fell sharply from the nearby hills, a torrent of water fresh from recent rains. Magnus knew the route, no doubt from the many times he and his fellow Danes had slipped inland toward the rich farmlands of her kinsmen. They came to seize wealth and lands and caused people to quake in fear at the sound of their battle cries, the heavy clash of their swords. She had always hated them. Yet, now, she would follow this Dane wherever he led.

Would she regret leaving the security of her home at Hystead? Despite his advanced age and infirmities, her husband had done what he could to protect her and the others, provided coin and foodstuffs to Saxon men of their neighborhood to mount a brave defense. Able-bodied men from the fields, the work sheds, and the forges came with what they had. Among them, leaders had emerged to organize the makeshift army, see to the armor and weaponry, and debate tactics and strategies. They returned from battle bloodied and bruised, not as many as had sallied forth, but a respectable number.

In those dangerous confrontations, the Danes often matched them, overpowered them, and took what they could. They fought to the death. But the Saxons sometimes bested them. And it was such a moment that she had seized her opportunity to gain the service of a Dane as her slave. At her instruction, a chosen handful of Hystead men were trusted with her secret and, as she had requested, brought her Magnus as the best of the captured Danes. With trepidation and a lighter purse, she had secreted him to private chambers to take her pleasure.

Again she turned in the saddle to look back at him, this warrior Dane who had discovered her heart. Just to look at him took her breath. His pale hair shone in the moonlight as it streamed back from his broad shoulders. The silvery