Look what Michelle gave us! An excerpt!!

Excerpt of Taken by the Viking by Michelle Styles, coming 1 May!!
Historical romance released by Harlequin 1 May 2008

**E-X-C-E-R-P-T**

Chapter One

8 June 793 Lindisfarne, Northumbria

Annis pressed her lips together, trying to keep her head from moving as her maid plaited her hair. What had she really hoped for? That her uncle, the Abbot of St Cuthbert’s priory, would give her money to fight her step-father? His only alternative had been the church. She could have a good position as long as she brought her dowry with her.

‘My lady, it will take less time if you bend your head slightly this way.’

Annis regarded the wall of the guesthouse at St Cuthbert’s priory with its mural of Mary kneeling at the base of the cross and concentrated harder.

It had been a mistake to come. Last night’s conversation still rang in her ears. Her uncle refused to listen to her arguments. Why had she ever thought otherwise?

She’d leave the monastery and the island tomorrow at low tide when the causeway was passable, Annis decided. She would have to return home to Birdoswald on the River Irthing in the west of Northumbria. And face the future her way.

‘Is this suitable, my lady?’

Her new maidservant, Mildreth, finished plaiting her hair and handed her a small mirror. Annis took a brief glance in the mirror. Her wayward tumble of brown curls had been tamed into two neat plaits on either side of her head. Annis considered her hair to be her best feature, perhaps her only feature, but something with a will of its own. Mildreth knew what she was doing, she’d allow, but Annis refused to trust her.

Mildreth was her step-father’s creature. Had to be. Her step-father had forced all her maids and retainers to be changed after her husband died and she returned to the family lands. There had been no excuse for her to stay with Selwyn’s family. She had no child and her sister-in-law had always resented her. So she had returned, hoping for a better reception and discovered her step-father firmly in control of the family lands.

‘Soon we will be preparing for your betrothal.’

‘If God wills…’ Annis placed the mirror back on the dressing table and forced her face to remain bland. She had no intention of marrying her step-father’s son – the odious Eadgar with his damp hands and even damper manner. Neither did she intend on retiring to a convent as her uncle had suggested. There had to be another way.

‘You will have to marry sometime. Eadgar, your step-father’s son is a fine–‘ Mildreth stopped and her face grew distressed. ‘Mistress, I can not lie. I have grown fond of you. Eadgar is a terror. All the maidservants fear him if they are caught alone with him. Please say nothing.’

Annis caught Mildreth’s hand. A faint pink tinged the maid’s cheeks making her almost pretty. Annis felt happier than she had been in weeks. Her journey to Lindisfarne had not been in vain. She had discovered an ally of sorts.

‘We share the same view of Eadgar.’

‘They said you were kind, my lady and you are.’

‘It is far too soon to speak of remarriage in any case.’ Annis straightened the neck of her gown. ‘My husband is barely cold in his grave. There will be time enough to speak of marriage later after I have finished mourning him. I came here seeking my uncle’s advice and having received it, I will return to my home.’

‘As you say, my lady.’

A sudden fierce tolling of the bells resounded in the room, crowding out all thought or speech. Every fibre of Annis’s being tensed.

‘We are going to be attacked!’ Mildreth wrung her hands. ‘Murdered in our beds!’

Annis forced a breath from her lips. Despite the increasing shrillness of the bells, she had to stay calm. It could be any thing. Blind panic never solved anything.

‘Attack? Really Mildreth, you must not let your fears take hold. Who would dare attack this place?’ She forced her voice to sound normal. Annis wasn’t quite sure who she was trying to convince – her maid or herself. ‘The bells will be ringing for another reason. A pilgrim misjudged the tide and is stuck on the causeway.’

Mildreth gave a tremulous smile and ducked her head as the bells continued to peel. Annis offered up a small prayer that her words were correct. They had to be. Who would risk eternal damnation by attacking one of the most holy and learned sites in Northumbria, if not Europe?

The protection it offered was why her family chose to store the bulk of their coin with the monks rather than keeping it in locked chests on their estates. The vast majority of landowners in Northumbria used simple but effective way ensuring their coin was truly safe.

Then, as suddenly as the bells started, they stopped. The silence became deafening.

‘It will be nothing.’ Annis’s voice sounded loud, echoing off the wooden walls. ‘A ship might have been stranded and a monk panicked. My uncle says some of the newer monks can be excitable. Whatever it was, it is sure to have been solved.’

‘As you say, my lady.’

Mildreth gave another nod but her thin face bore a distinctly unhappy look to it. Annis reached out and touched her hand.

‘All will be well, Mildreth. We are in God’s place. He will look after us.’

‘There have been portents in the skies,’ Mildreth said and then dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘One of the monks said he saw dragons flying across the moon. And strange fires in the night. Whirlwinds in the skies. Something to punish us for our wicked sinful ways. They were speaking of it in the Abbot’s scullery only yesterday as the drought has been fierce this year.’

‘Tales to frighten young maid servants without a doubt.’ Annis gave an uneasy laugh. ‘By Michealmas, after the harvest, no one will remember. It is the way of things.’

Annis rose and crossed quickly to the small window that overlooked the sea. Yesterday, she had admired the view of clear yellow sand and bright sparkling water, empty save a few fishing boats. Today, an entirely different sight lay before her.

‘I may have been wrong, Mildreth. The monastery has company.’ Annis fought to keep the sound of rising panic out of her voice. She must not jump to conclusions. She was too impatient, her imagination too active or so her uncle had admonished her several times this visit.

The early morning sunshine threw sparkles on the water but the sea was no longer empty. Three boats with serpents on their prows, round shields on their sides and red and white striped sails were in the shallow bay. One had drawn up on shore and while the others followed closely behind.

As Annis watched, warriors disembarked from the first serpent ship, wading through the surf. They were dressed in trousers and chain mail, carrying their helmets and round shields. An air of wildness hung about them. No two were dressed alike. Heathens. Pagans. Raiders.

Annis leant out the window to get a better look. The leader had dark hair that touched his shoulders and several days’ growth on his beard. An intricate design of a serpent and beast fighting covered his shield. The warriors behind him ranged from a wild-man with flowing hair and beard to a slim blonder version of the leader. The leader glanced up towards the window. His startling blue gaze held hers for a heartbeat. A brief smile touched his lips as he turned to greet the group hurrying from the monastery. Annis put her hand to her throat.

Had he seen her?

Her uncle stood at the front of the group in his white habit, taller than rest but not as tall as the barbarian leader, with an air of confidence and command. Annis gave a half-smile. She had been wrong to worry. Her uncle’s skill as a politician was renowned throughout Northumbria and Mercia. She was certain he would have the measure of these heathen warriors in no time.

Her uncle held out his hand to be kissed in the traditional manner. The pagan warlord ignored it, and inclined his head before he handed her uncle a tablet.

The colour drained from her uncle’s face and his hand shook.

What did these barbarians want?

copyright 2007 Harlequin Mills & Boon