Pirates, Passion and Plunder

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Pirates, Passion and Plunder Page 55

by Victoria Vale


  “I’m not crazy. I’ve been a captive of the Sea Wolf. A great warrior from legend. He took me, but he let me go.”

  Dòmhnall scoffed. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Danny can vouch for me.” I waved at the stunned boatman.

  “Indeed, I can.” Danny stepped forward. “A great warrior he was. His ship came out of the mists. Your men fought but he threw them in the water. And then he took her.”

  I smiled encouragingly at Danny. Poor man. He was a steady, stoic sort. This magical tale would not be easy for him to tell.

  My father’s men knew Danny and believed him. Me, they knew my mother had powers beyond the norm. They’d grant me a magical adventure.

  But Dòmhnall’s men were shaking their heads, glowering harder to a man.

  “This is the same pack of lies your messenger told,” Dòmhnall sneered at my father.

  “Not lies,” I answered for myself.

  Dòmhnall turned his sneer to me. “They told me you were taken but here I find you whole. Did you whore yourself to him?”

  I drew myself up. “You insult me, Dòmhnall. I owe you nothing. Go home.”

  “I don’t know what happened here, but I can see the results. My chosen bride is a whore. And you concoct fantastical tales to protect her nonexistent virtue.”

  “Take care, Dòmhnall,” my father finally spoke up.

  “You let her lie with any man… tell me why I shouldn’t put all of you to the sword and take this island by force?”

  He advanced, blade high.

  “Stop!” I flung myself between them to save my father. Most men would hesitate to strike down a woman. But Dòmhnall grabbed my arm and flung me to the sand.

  “Muireann!” my father cried. Dòmhnall’s men barred his way to me.

  “Whore,” Dòmhnall spat, standing over me. “To think I once wanted you. In my father’s house, we mark women like you, so men will know to be wary of your snares.” The blade flashed down and I cried out, scrambling backwards.

  A roar blasted over the water.

  Dòmhnall’s sword stopped. “What was that?” His wide eyes searched the sea. But there was nothing. Dòmhnall’s men turned as one, their weapons high. A fog covered the horizon, advancing quickly. The roar sounded again.

  “No,” I breathed. The mist curled up onto the beach, covering me where I lay, obscuring the legs of the assembled men.

  “Not again,” Danny moaned, backing away from the surf.

  “What was that sound?” Dòmhnall demanded. “What is this strange weather?” He and his men turned this way and that, weapons high as if the metal could beat back the mists. They stood waist deep in it now.

  “The Sea Wolf,” I answered, a mix of joy and horror welling in my heart. “He’s come for me.” Again.

  Another roar and a wolf’s howl.

  Dòmhnall’s men were clamoring, standing in their boats, waving their weapons at a threat they could not see.

  The great Viking ship appeared, plowing through the grey. Gasps echoed all around. Judging from the fear written on the older men’s faces, the dragon head still struck terror into men’s hearts.

  “It’s not possible,” my father breathed. “It’s not real.”

  With a heart-stopping thud, the ship struck Dòmhnall’s boats, sending men flying into the surf.

  “Real enough,” I murmured.

  Dòmhnall’s men on the beach waded to help their brothers out of the water. But it was too late for the men by the boats. One by one they cried out as a dark shape attacked them. One by one, they disappeared before their comrade’s eyes. The mists swallowed the bodies up.

  The remaining men retreated to land, their eyes darting this way and that.

  “What are you waiting for?” Dòmhnall screamed. “Shoot him!”

  A few of his men dropped their swords and drew bows. A twang and arrows flew into the wall of grey. I held my breath. One heartbeat. Two.

  The small boats drifted out of the fog. They held Dòmhnall’s men, dead, pin cushioned with arrows.

  Dòmhnall’s remaining men cried out.

  “The Sea Wolf did this!” I shouted. “He is real. Throw down your arms now, and pledge peace, and your life will be spared.” I would plead with Ægir to make it so. No more needed to die today.

  But Dòmhnall spat into the sand.

  “If he is real, he can die,” Dòmhnall snarled. “Come then, Sea Wolf,” he called. “Face me like a man.”

  “No!” I cried, whirling towards the mist. Willing Ægir not to hear Dòmhnall’s challenge.

  Dòmhnall pulled me to him, a rough hand at my neck.

  “Is this your whore?” Dòmhnall shouted to the ship. “Is this who you want?”

  I fought, scratching and trying to bite, wishing I had my knife.

  “Let her go,” came my father’s frail cry.

  Dòmhnall dragged me into the surf. “She’s already naked,” he taunted. Batting away my hands, he gripped my right breast hard enough to bruise. I screamed my outrage.

  The mists parted and the sun shone down on the great tawny head. Golden eyes glowed and Dòmhnall shrank back. I shimmied out of his grasp but did not flee. I raced to the edge of the water.

  “Stop! Stay back!” I raised my hands, palms outstretched. “Remember the curse!”

  But Ægir kept coming.

  “No,” I cried. “You can’t!”

  “She’s afraid for you.” Dòmhnall taunted. “She knows I am a great warrior.”

  “Don’t do it,” I pleaded, willing the golden eyes to rest on me. “Don’t come. He doesn’t matter.” If Ægir set foot on land, the curse would win.

  Ægir pointed at me. “Mine.” A promise.

  “Come take her then,” Dòmhnall waved his sword.

  “No!” I would’ve hurled myself between them, but Danny grabbed me and pulled me back.

  “Take her to the lodge,” my father shouted to Danny.

  “Come, my lady. Please,” Danny wrestled with me.

  “He cannot come onto land! The curse will take him forever!” I fought my father’s man.

  Dòmhnall rushed to meet Ægir. Their weapons met with a clang.

  It was too late. Ægir had come onto land. Already the magic was working, the curse taking hold. Ægir’s proud and handsome features contorted. His jaw and ears grew longer, his teeth thickening into fangs. The white pelt he wore over his shoulders seemed to creep down his chest. His legs grew longer and white-furred.

  Dòmhnall fell back, driven to the ground by Ægir’s savage blows. But as the curse rolled over the great warrior’s body, his hands transformed to claws and his weapon fell to the sand.

  Pointing his wolf’s head at the sky, Ægir howled. I sagged in Danny’s hold.

  “Take her away,” my father ordered as his own men urged him flee. Danny dragged me up the beach. Nanny rushed forward and I fell into her arms.

  “Come away, Muireann.” Her face held fear.

  “I can’t leave him!”

  “He’s gone now.” Sure enough, the Sea wolf was no longer a man, but a beast with white and golden fur.

  Dòmhnall’s men closed around Ægir, their blades biting and baiting him. Attacked from behind, Ægir roared and swiped a great claw.

  More men rushed up the surf, their breeches dark with the water. Ægir’s men, led by Hawk. It wasn’t even a fair fight. Dòmhnall’s men turned and died. I saw Hawk’s white teeth flash, him laughing as he cleaved a man’s head from his neck.

  Without his men to help, Dòmhnall had no hope. He raised his weapon and the Sea Wolf thrust foot-long claws into his chest, lifting his body and tossing him with a thick spray of red. Deprived of more prey, the monster bellowed.

  My father’s men had retreated. With frightened shouts, they barricaded themselves in the lodge as the Sea Wolf rushed towards them.

  “No,” I cried, stumbling and almost falling. Only Nanny’s firm grip, tugging me forward, kept me upright.

  I realized she was pull
ing me up the cliff.

  “You cannot help him now.”

  “He’s a monster. The curse will never let him go.” The wind snatched at my hair and numbed my face.

  “And he’ll lay waste to your father’s land. The lodge will not hold him back, no matter what your father thinks.”

  My breath was a rock in my throat. The vision I’d had would come true. The lodge roof on fire. The men and women’s bodies strewn around. Dòmhnall was dead, he would not lay waste to the island. But Ægir, mad with the curse, would.

  “There’s no time,” Nanny shouted over the wind. Her hands peeled away the layers of cloaks around me. I shivered, naked in the cold air.

  “He loves you?”

  I nodded.

  Nanny turned me to the cliff’s edge and gave me a little push. “Then fly.”

  I tottered on the grassy ledge. “But—”

  “You can do it child. You’re the raven. Lead him home.”

  And I knew what I must do.

  Below on the beach, Ægir’s men finished off the last of Dòmhnall’s and watched their leader seek new prey.

  The Sea Wolf climbed on the roof of the lodge and tore into the rushes. A few more heartbeats and he’d break through, and lay waste to the frightened people huddled below. My people. My family.

  No time to lose.

  I stepped up to the cliff edge. My toes curled. Far below, the sea crashed into the rocks.

  “Do it, Muireann. Fly!” Nanny called. “Fly away girl, with the magic your mother gave you.”

  I spread my arms and leapt into the air. The world tilted. The Change came over me between one breath and the next. The wind caught my wings before I hit the water, and I soared upwards in a warm draft. I was light and free, no longer hungry or sick or tired. Magic indeed.

  I flew over the beach. Hawk’s teeth flashed and he gave a wave. I cawed a hello and flapped to gain height.

  The monster on the lodge roof paused in the act of ripping the thatch bundles apart. I let loose a stream of scolding cries. The wind tugged my tail feathers and I turned and flew back over the beach. Straight over the water.

  That’s it, daughter, my mother’s voice whispered. That’s the way.

  Behind me, the monster bounded to the ground. His men scrambled out of the way, but the monster ignored them and the heaps of dead bodies. He waded right into the water, roaring as if he wanted me to wait. I floated on an updraft. Would he sink? Or swim?

  The Sea Wolf reached the depths and sank into the waves for one horrible heartbeat. Then his head broke the surface, his furry arms and legs churning the water.

  I cawed and pointed my beak into the mist. The small shadow of a bird coasted over the water, leading the white-furred creature toward the open sea. I could only hope the magic gave him enough strength and stamina to follow me where I flew. I did not know how long we would journey. I did not even know the way.

  Mother, guide me, I prayed. And bravely, stupidly, flapped into the grey.

  For a moment my senses scrambled. Up was down and down was up. I forgot to flap my wings and tumbled closer to the water. Animal instincts took over and I regained the height, cawing to scold myself. I must trust myself, and the raven. Below, the white-furred beast swam doggedly on. He would follow me to the ends of the earth and beyond. I must figure out where to go.

  Ahead, made of mist and light, a figure detached itself from a cloud and flew ahead of me in the shape of a raven. I stretched and strained my wings to follow. We flew through the fog, the spirit raven leaving a trail of light for me to follow.

  It took longer than it should’ve for me to realize where the light raven led me. Nanny had hinted about the secret haven across the water, the home my mother built. Nanny had wanted me to fly there and hide from Dòmhnall. Nanny knew my mother hadn’t kept it for her own solitude. My mother had kept it for me. And the story they both told was one I needed to hear.

  As a raven flies true, you’ll always find your way home.

  It was destiny then. His and mine.

  I did not know how long I flew, leading the Sea Wolf home. He swam with

  boundless energy and I found new strength in knowing the curse wouldn’t kill him before I could bring him home.

  At last the mists broke. The raven of light cawed and soared away, becoming one with the sun sparkling on the calm waters. A green land stretched before me; one I’d never seen. No houses nor people, only a few white dots that might be sheep grazing on their lonely pastures. But on the edge of the water, at the end of a long line of rocks, stood a little hut. The one my mother built. The one Nanny spoke of.

  Home.

  The Sea Wolf was another, larger, white dot in the great sea. I waited until I was sure he knew where I was headed and used the favorable wind to outdistance him. I had to hurry if I wanted to arrive first and make ready.

  The moment my claws touched land, I transformed. I sprawled, a naked, wild haired woman, on the little hut’s doorstep. Teeth chattering from the Change, I pushed open the sturdy door. It swung open easily before me in welcome. I said a prayer of thanks to my mother and hurried inside.

  The hut wasn’t too big, but it wasn’t too small. Ægir would fit through the door. He wouldn’t be able to stand anywhere but the apex of the roof, but he could sit by the hearth. Or lie on the bed…

  I pressed cold hands to flaming cheeks. The air was unseasonably warm, but I was chilled from my flight. There was a neat stack of driftwood beside the hearth. I peered up the stone chimney to be sure there were no nests in it, and saw a simple grate at the top, cunningly keeping any creatures out.

  The tinder was dry, too. No mold had taken hold within the stone walls. The place wasn’t even too dusty. The shelves on the walls were mostly empty, but other than a few spiderwebs, they were clean. There was a cedar box under the bed, and I found a few of my mother’s work dresses. The bed held woolen blankets, uneaten by any moths.

  My mother knew how to keep a household. The door kept out any curious sheep and here and there were packets of mint to deter mice.

  I tossed a bundle of herbs on the fire as I’d watched Nanny do and said a word of thanks. For one heartbeat, my skin prickled with a rush of magic, but then it was gone, and the hut was a normal, if strangely tidy for being so long out of use, place.

  Home.

  I bundled up in a blanket, grabbed some fishing line off the shelf, and went to catch some dinner.

  The wind nipped my skin, but I didn’t see the use in wearing one of the dresses. Not until I could be sure a certain warrior wouldn’t tear them with clumsy claws. Besides, he’d be naked too, unless the magic gave him some clothes.

  A long strip of rocks stretched from the hut’s doorstep out to sea. I clambered over the dark, wet shape until I came to the end of the spit. There I cast out my fishing line and tried not to stare too often at the horizon. I lost my fight and ended up climbing the tallest stone where I shaded my eyes and waited for a white-furred shape to appear.

  It was a long, lonely watch. I’d caught three fish and strung them up before a figure broke the serene line where sea met sky. The Sea Wolf had done it. He was almost home.

  I whispered the name that beat in my heart. Ægir. The sound must have carried, for the warrior seemed to swim faster. As he came closer, I saw he was no longer a white-furred monster but a man with a tawny head and tanned arms. The white pelt clinging to his shoulders was just that—a pelt, not part of his body.

  When he finally reached the end of the rocky spit, I was waiting.

  “Come, my love,” I called and reached out my hand. He hesitated before climbing up the rocks to where I stood, well out of the water. I tugged his fingers and he took his first steps on land as a man, his legs as shaky as a babe’s.

  When he was on solid ground, he sank to his knees and put his wet head against my belly.

  “It’s all right,” I laughed and tugged the blanket around us both. “I’ll teach you to walk. I’ll teach you to live as a man again.�
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  “M-m-m…”

  I put two fingers against his lips. “Muireann. ‘Tis a strange name for Northman to say. I’ll teach you how to speak it, too.”

  I started to turn away, wanting to get him inside. But he pulled me back and kissed me. His lips burned on mine, transferring the taste of salt, of water, of need. My skin tingled and my feet left the ground. The Sea Wolf had picked me up, lips still locked on mine. He drank of me and I him, inhaling the scent of each other in great gulps. Finally, I pulled away, laughing as he kissed down the column of my throat, his stubble tickling me. I threaded my fingers in his wet hair and drew him up. His eyes flared with an unearthly light, then the glow died, leaving them more ordinary, if tawny brown with hints of gold was ordinary.

  “Muireann,” he whispered as if my kiss had reminded him how to speak. If that was true, we would have to spend more time kissing.

  “Welcome, Ægir. The sea’s your home no longer.”

  He started walking, ignoring my request for him to put me down. He carried me all the way to the hut. Sure enough, he had to duck to get through the door. Once inside, surprise flashed over his features.

  “It was my mother’s,” I explained, pulling out of his hold. He let me go and I stepped back and held the blanket around me, suddenly shy. “She built it and kept it for me. For us.” I turned to flash him a smile, but he looked so sober my mirth died.

  Clearing my throat, I hustled to tend the fire. “There’s enough wood for the night, but we’ll have to find more tomorrow. Nothing but fish for food, until we can slaughter a sheep.”

  Ægir knelt by the hearth, and I whirled away, my hands fluttering like little birds. “I best go get the fish then—”

  With a grunt, he stalked outside. The door slammed behind him. I sank onto the bed, wondering why this was so hard. Did he not want me? Was I not the one he would’ve chosen? The curse chose for us, I reflected as I left the hut to find water. My mother was smart enough to find a source of water before building a haven.

  Sure enough, I found a stream of sweet water and a bucket besides. The door scraped when I opened it and Ægir whirled as if to stab an intruder. I gasped and dropped the bucket.

 

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