Several guttural shouts came from a distance behind them back toward the village. “Those would be my men searching for you.” He felt her stiffen, but she didn’t say anything. “Although I claim you, it would be better if they did not see you dressed,” he paused and looked down her sleek length, “so tightly. Do you wear other clothes?”
Merewin pulled her hands back from him and crossed her arms over her breasts that were pushed upward by the hugging material. “Aye,” she snapped. “I only wear these when I wish to run through the night without making a sound.” She gestured behind him. “I have a cottage, back and slightly to the west.”
Hauk turned and took her wrist. “Show me.”
She stood mute, staring at him with defiance.
Shouts came again and her gaze shifted uneasily.
“My men are not all as disciplined as I, woman. Unless you risk being ravished by a pack of barbarians,” he said using her word for them, “it would be best for you to change your garments.”
The woman huffed and walked quickly through the moon shadows of gray and silver. The light touched her hair, gliding along the waves that fell to her waist. Her legs were incredibly long. No wonder she’d been difficult to catch. They led up to gently curving hips, just right for a man’s hands, his hands.
Aye, she was his by right for leading the mission. Ragnar only wanted her to heal his son. After she failed, Hauk would take her to his home, as a slave, a thrall. He wouldn’t force her into his bed, but eventually she would come to it. He barely had to notice a woman to have her fall into his bed. They had all come willingly before. And this one could help care for Dalla. It would restore calm at Spring House. He would have Merewin, and she couldn’t quit when Dalla became troublesome and wild. By Odin, perhaps this had been a worthwhile mission after all.
The shadows were thick inside her cramped cottage. She refused to stir the fire to light and dressed in a dark corner. She emerged in the long skirts and modest bodice that he had seen on the village women. “Pack the black costume with your things. Perhaps you can run through the dark in Denmark,” his humor fell on the floor before them.
“I’m not packing because I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly. She did have spirit. That would serve her well with Dalla, he mused.
“Aye, you are going to Denmark.”
“For what reason?”
“King Ragnar Lothbrok has summoned you. It is my mission to bring you there.”
“Ye said he wanted the Witch of the Woods. She’s dead.”
“Ragnar needs a healer, and you are one. You will do in her place.”
“I said, I’m not going with ye,” she said and brandished another long dirk.
The woman must have weapons hidden about. He took a step forward.
“Doona touch me, barbarian, else ye’ll feel my blade again.”
Aye, she had strong spirit. In one fluid motion, Hauk knocked the dirk to the floor and grabbed Merewin to him. The breath puffed out of her as she hit his chest hard. He held her arms to her sides and bent his face so that they looked eye to eye in the dim light.
“If you keep trying to maim me, I will keep you tied. You have no choice. You are coming with me.” He watched her swallow and felt a tremor run through her. He couldn’t see the woman’s face clearly, but her shoulders seemed to slump a little. He reached one hand up to touch her face, and she jerked it away.
“And if I come with ye, are ye going to,” she stopped and turned her head as far from him as she could. Her voice was soft, “to do what ye said out there? To me?” The undercurrent of fear was unnerving, and Hauk forced her chin back around with one finger. She looked him in the eye, the anger back in place. “Because if ye touch me like that I’ll kill ye.”
Hauk didn’t let go of her chin. He answered slowly, succinctly. “I do not rape, Merewin. I will not take what isn’t given. You have my word.” He waited until she nodded slightly and then let go.
With a cracking of wood, the door flew inward off its hinges. Hauk jerked Merewin into the protection of his chest then shoved her behind him. His wound shot fire through his arm as he hefted his war axe, but he ignored it.
Bjalki, one of his men, stalked into the cottage. Hauk kept his axe in place as the arrogant warrior brandished a torch.
“It was not barred, Bjalki,” Hauk’s tone was cold. This one irritated him, his brash ways, his desire to destroy without provocation. He played the part of leader though he hadn’t earned the title, because his sister was widow to the king’s brother.
“It is you, Hauk?” The fire came farther into the cottage.
“Aye, and I have found the healer. We are coming out. Back up.” Hauk felt Merewin’s fingers curled into the back of his leather vest. Lowering his axe, he reached behind him for Merewin’s hand. It was cold, delicately boned. With all her bluster and stubbornness, she was fragile. Hauk drew her into his side as they walked out into a group of ten of his men.
“Gamal, what are you doing out here? You should be resting,” Hauk said.
Gamal pummeled his chest. “I’m fit enough to fight alongside Thor,” he bragged, his easy smile in place. He ran a hand along the injured side of his head and looked to Merewin. He bowed slightly. “I send my thanks to you, healer.”
Hauk felt Merewin bow her head. “My name is Merewin.”
“The witch speaks our language,” Bjalki said.
“She is not the Witch of the Woods,” Hauk said irritated over the title. “Merewin was trained by the witch to heal. The witch died two moons past. We will take Merewin to Ragnar.”
Bjalki lifted his torch higher into the still night air, illuminating the circle. The men peered closely at Merewin. Hauk watched Bjalki’s gaze travel her length. Didn’t the saklauss see he had his arm around her, that she rested under his protection? A lustful grin split along Bjalki’s face and turned Hauk’s irritation blacker still. Even with his one arm drained of full strength, Hauk could still hack through him. The woman was his, would be his thrall after she met with Ragnar.
Hauk dipped his axe down, swinging it back with enough momentum that it swung high over his head. With little effort he threw it to land just in front of the leering Bjalki and the others. Hauk pulled Merewin around in front of him. There was no time to explain to her what must be done, or why. His gaze took in her large eyes as he descended on her open mouth. She pushed her hands against his chest as he kissed her roughly, thoroughly until he heard Gamal laugh loudly behind him. Several others joined his brother-in-law, and Hauk released Merewin.
Her lips looked full, swollen from his kiss, parted and wet, and he was tempted to bend his head again. Shock changed to outrage, but before she could retaliate, he pulled her back up against his chest, pinning her arms to her sides.
“Merewin of Northumbria is under the protection of Hauk the Broad. She is taken in the name of King Ragnar. None shall touch her,” Hauk proclaimed.
“Except you,” Bjalki spat, the slight sneer barely concealed.
“As is my right for leading this mission. I claim the woman,” Hauk said, his gaze meeting first Bjalki and then slowly moving to the others who had been equally interested.
Gamal took a step closer, his hand at his sword. “By law, it is Hauk’s right.”
Bjalki spit on the ground near Hauk’s axe. “So be it. Let us return to the village. Mayhaps I can find a little woman to take back with me.”
“Strip the stronghold, but leave the village in peace,” Hauk commanded.
Bjalki shook his head. “You’ve become soft, Hauk the Broad.” He turned to leave.
“If you wish a challenge, state it Bjalki.”
Bjalki ignored Hauk and continued back up the trail. Several men followed him while Gamal retrieved Hauk’s axe.
“Loki rules that warrior,” Gamal said.
Hauk felt Merewin wiggle against him, and he eased his hold. She turned to him.
“Ye said ye wouldn’t touch me unless I asked,” she snapped. Hauk ignored Gam
al’s raised eyebrows. His brother-in-law stepped away to talk to some of the others. Hauk kept his voice even.
“I had to claim you, Merewin, for your safety.”
“So I should be thanking ye for breaking yer promise.”
Hauk was tired. His arm ached, and if he didn’t tend it soon, it would become tainted. His patience with Merewin’s anger was thinning. His gaze turned cold as he looked down. “Aye, you should be thanking me, woman. I may not rape helpless women,” he said stressing the word helpless, “but that one does,” he said indicating Bajalki.
Merewin held her ground, but her gaze softened a bit.
“Now go in and grab what possessions you wish to bring. Gamal, stay with her. I need to tend this arm,” his gaze narrowed at Merewin, “again.” Hauk turned, dismissing Merewin.
“Hauk Geirson,” her soft voice stopped him. She had said his name. If he ignored her, would she say it again? He waited. “Hauk.”
He turned back. She glanced at his arm. “I will tend ye,” she paused. “Even if my magick doesn’t work with ye. I know the ways of traditional curing.”
Her voice lacked the spitfire from before. It was humble. An apology? He doubted it. But perhaps it was a thank you as she realized what would have happened to her tonight if Bjalki had tracked her down instead of him.
A fierce chatter came from the deep woods behind the cottage as a small line of fluff darted straight for Merewin. As it leapt for her arm, Hauk caught it by the end of its tail.
“No, doona scare her, else she perfume ye,” Merewin warned as she grabbed the flailing creature from his outstretched hand. “I’m sound, Bela. Where have ye been?” The woman actually cuddled the small scrap of pelt, letting the animal nestle around the back of her neck, hiding in the thick mane.
Gamal laughed. “I think your little beastie there was perfuming,” he used her word, “Ivan and Kieven out front, Hauk.”
Merewin didn’t say anything but scratched the little head. “Bela comes with me,” she said, look daring him to contradict.
Hauk nodded, wondering when she had decided to come willingly. He followed the gentle sway of her hips into the cottage.
Chapter 3
The day dawned like any other late summer day with misty rays of sunlight streaking through the trees. Merewin glanced around the small home she’d grown up in with Navlin and pushed at a tear that wouldn’t obey her will. Nay, this morning was different. She was being forced from her home, captured by Vikings, and headed toward a foreign land as a slave. Merewin tucked her hair behind her ears and bent to pick up part of the door that had been shattered. She placed it against the wall and looked up to the rafters.
“Will I ever be here again?” Disobedient tears washed out her eyes and down her cheeks. She brushed at them.
Someone coughed at the doorway. Merewin kept her back to it.
“We must leave soon,” Gamal said. His voice was quiet, respectful, making Merewin’s eyes blur again. She held up a hand and nodded to indicate she had heard, and he moved away.
Merewin wandered around the cottage gathering her herbal tinctures and salves, her stones, and small clay phials of powdered herbs. She wrapped them in the black clothing she had worn the night before, not because Hauk had ordered it, she told herself. She might need the dark clothes to escape in this foreign Denmark. Escape, the thought of it checked her tears and straightened her spine. No more tears, she could almost hear Navlin gently rebuke.
“One must always look forward,” Merewin whispered Navlin’s favorite saying. She stepped to the hearth and kicked at the gray charred wood. “Oh Navlin, what am I going to do?” A tingling sensation itched at the birthmark on her inner thigh, and she absently rubbed it.
“Well she’s not in the chimney, child,” a woman’s familiar voice came from the other side of the cottage.
“Ahh!” Merewin screamed and spun around.
The misty form of an ageless woman in flowing iridescent robes stood near the door. A dragonfly shaped pendant hung low on a golden chain. Barely visible dragonflies darted and hovered. Drakkina. Merewin instantly dropped the bag on her foot and yelped.
Gamal shoved through the doorway brandishing a sword. “Healer?” His gaze searched the room. He looked right past Drakkina.
“He can’t see or hear me, Merewin,” Drakkina said. “Not unless I wish it, which I do not.”
“What is it, Merewin?” Gamal asked again as he stared curiously around.
Merewin smiled timidly, her hand at her chest, and shook her head. “Nothing Gamal. Bela,” she said, and gestured to her pet who sat on the bed baring sharp little teeth at the spirit woman.
Bela chattered loudly until Drakkina put her finger to her lips, and the little mink stopped. So her pet could see the Wiccan priestess.
“Bela just startled me. I am almost finished, just a moment longer.”
Gamal’s gaze circled the room once more before he nodded and walked back out.
“What are ye doing here?” Merewin whispered suspiciously. The last time she had seen Drakkina, the crone had stabbed her sister, Serena, in order to draw her husband to her side and away from his death. The priestess’s intentions may have been good, but her tactics were definitely questionable. Drakkina had summoned Merewin to a temporal plane, or something like that, to heal Serena.
“I said I would visit,” Drakkina answered. “When the time was right.”
Merewin caught her breath. “Can ye help me? Help me escape these barbarians?”
Drakkina frowned. “Why?”
“They’re forcing me to leave here, leave my home.”
“As you should.”
“Ye’re insane, crone.”
“It’s your fate, Merewin. You are meant to go with the Danes, with Hauk Gierson.”
Merewin felt nails digging into palms and forced herself to unfist her hands. “How do ye know all this? Did ye have a part in sending him after me?” Merewin’s low voice barely hinted at the storm building inside. Her stomach twisted, coiled like her nerves, ready to strike.
“He’s your soul mate, and as a child of Gilla, you must be connected to him.” The apparition seemed to wave in and out of solid form. Light blue eyes shone nearly white, giving an unearthly look. Lines marked her face, making it appear wise, yet her proud stature gave the appearance of youthful strength. Hands came before her as if in prayer, the dragonflies making a halo about her head. “You two must be together, blessed by the Earth Mother.”
But this was no saintly angel as the monks liked to paint in their tomes. This meddling witch had sent Hauk and his men to hunt her.
“You should thank me,” Drakkina continued with a wink. “He’s quite breathtaking to look upon, and he smells nice too. Something not easily found in your century.”
Merewin whipped a clay pot toward the apparition. The vessel flew through her to smash against the far wall.
Gamal jumped inside once more, his gaze ricocheting from wall to wall.
“Bela knocked over a pot,” Merewin snapped before she could calm herself enough to act like nothing was amiss. Gamal looked at her suspiciously, grunted and then went back out.
As soon as Merewin saw him reach the edge of the clearing she turned. “I canna believe that ye sent a hoard of barbarians after me, to steal me away from my home.”
Drakkina opened her arms to indicate the cramped little cottage. “Away from all of this?” she said sarcastically.
“Aye, ’tis my home.”
“You are all alone here, child. What is left here for you? Nothing.” Drakkina pinched her lips. “The woman who raised you rests with the Earth Mother, the villagers revere your power but, out of reverence, they fear you. The monks threaten to burn you. What is so important here that you can’t leave it?”
Merewin stared at Drakkina. Her words rang eerily true, and Merewin felt her face flush. She narrowed her gaze. “I doona like being forced, captured against my will, enslaved and at the mercy of strangers. Strangers who steal, murde
r, and rape.”
Drakkina tilted her head slightly to the side as if inspecting. “Yes, you have your father’s pride, now don’t you.” She crinkled her eyes, judging. The old crone held a bent finger out toward Merewin. “Be wary of that trait, child. Too much pride is dangerous. It can trick you into believing you are always right, and when you find out you’re wrong it can destroy you. It killed your father.”
“Ye knew my birth parents, and know of my sisters? More than just Serena?”
Drakkina nodded.
The anger faded from Merewin’s voice. “My mother,” she swallowed, “she died after she sent me away, didn’t she?”
Drakkina stared back. “Yes, she did.”
Merewin closed eyes and leaned against the hearth. “I should have stayed to help her.”
“You would have died, too. The demons stole your father’s powers. Even at full strength your mother would have been no match against them. Once her protective wards fell, the evil would have descended, sucked away her powers, killed all of you,” Drakkina said, her face grim.
“Why? For what purpose?”
“They need the combined magick of your parents to be powerful enough to rip the temporal web,” Drakkina said while absently clutching the pendant that hung on its chain. “Once that falls, all times will crush into each other, creating mass chaos. Most will die. Those who survive will live under the rule of evil so perverse they will seek their own deaths until this world is barren.” Drakkina rubbed at her forehead. “If you had stayed with your mother, the demons would now have one of Gilla’s threads of power.” She looked back up at Merewin. “She sent you and your siblings away. In so doing, she could die in peace knowing you were safe. And for the time being, so was the world.”
“Do these demons hunt me now?”
Magick (The Dragonfly Chronicles Book 2) Page 5