Merewin vaguely heard Gamal’s concerned words nearby. She drew in a gulp of air. It burned on the way down, and she coughed at the smooth planks. What could she do? Think! They would take her to the king, parade her before him with promises of healing, of saving his little boy. And then hope, relief would flood the king’s gaze, just like when she had reassured the parents of the bairn who had fallen from his papa’s horse. And then the stones would remain cold beneath her touch, the magick would hit against an invisible layer of apathy, and the child would still die. She would fail, again.
The tips of leather boots obscured the strangely comforting view of the worn planks in her line of sight.
“Merewin,” Hauk’s calm voice ordered her to look at him. “Merewin,” he said again as he squatted down.
She coughed and swallowed, the ache in her throat growing worse. Merewin’s nose began to drip. She sniffed.
“Merewin,” he touched her hair gently, and a warm flutter uncurled in her stomach, easing the terror that lay knotted there. “Look up.” It wasn’t the order that made her lift her head, but the strength in the words, a strength that sounded like protection. She was his, as Gamal had said. And for the first time, that didn’t sound so bad.
She looked up and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Their gazes locked. So much strength filled those gray blue eyes, that some of it flowed back into her. She breathed deeply, and coughed into her hand.
“Hauk, I canna heal the king’s son,” she whispered just above the rush of wind.
He held no expression. “So you admit that you are not a healer, that your magick is an illusion.” His lips tightened.
She shook her head and glanced to the side where Gamal also crouched.
“Nay, I am a healer, but I canna heal children, not young ones anyway.” Gamal and Hauk looked confused. “If ye bring me to yer king to heal his son,” she swallowed against the burn, “I will fail.”
Gamal moved closer because her words were so soft. He handed her a leather pouch of water. “But you healed me, I know you did.”
Merewin nodded and took a drink. She had to explain, at least to these two. They were her only chance of survival. If she could convince them, maybe they would give her a means of escape.
“I can only heal those who want to be healed. If a person loses the will to live, my magick canna counter that. They want to move on to the Earth Mother’s embrace.”
“The Earth Mother?” Gamal asked. “Is that the god the little monks talk about?”
Merewin almost smiled at the reference to her once formidable enemy, at least that’s what she thought of them before being captured by six-foot tall warriors. “I doona know for certain. Navlin thought that their god and the Earth Mother might be the same. One power that created all life, that holds the spirit after the body has died.”
“So you think Ragnar’s son will not want to live?” Hauk said bringing her gaze back to him.
“It’s not that he doesn’t want to live, it’s that he doesn’t know yet that he’s supposed to fight for life.”
The two men stared.
She clasped her hands together, squeezing. “Have ye ever seen a young child fall underwater, completely?” She looked between them.
“Your cousin’s child, Gamal. Didn’t the babe fall in a pond when you visited last summer?”
“Aye, little Devon fell in.”
Merewin’s voice gained strength. “Did he thrash around fighting to reach the surface?”
Gamal shook his head. “Nay, he just lay under the surface, his eyes wide. He moved a bit, but didn’t thrash. It was very clear water, and I saw him before I scooped him up.”
“Exactly,” Merewin rubbed her temples. “He just thought that suddenly being underwater where he couldn’t breathe was part of life, he didn’t yet know to fight. A young child remembers the bliss of being in the Earth Mother’s arms before being born into this cold, wet, cruel world. If he thinks he’s supposed to go back, he won’t fight against it.”
The two men continued to watch.
“Bairns aren’t old enough to forget her touch. Once they forget, they doona just accept what is happening to them, like yer cousin’s son did when he was suddenly under water. Once they are old enough to forget what it was like before they were thrust into this world, they fight to stay in it, no longer accepting that they are supposed to return to the Earth Mother.”
“So -” Gamal started.
“So, I canna heal a child so young.” Merewin lowered her gaze back to Hauk’s boots. “I have failed in trying before.”
Looking down made her nose drip again. She wiped at it. Her throat hurt, her nose tickled, her head ached. So on top of everything else, she was becoming ill. She sneezed loudly.
Leather boots thumped on the deck as another warrior approached.
“What’s going on with the healer?” It was another young warrior named Garrett. Merewin continued to look down.
“She can’t heal Ivarr,” Gamal started but Hauk interrupted.
“Can’t heal him in the condition we have put her in with this voyage.”
As if on cue, Merewin sneezed again.
“Our healer seems to have taken the ague.” Hauk said and draped a woolen blanket around her shoulders.
“Aye,” Gamal said nodding vigorously. “The cold long nights made her ill. She needs to get well before she can heal Ivarr.”
Garrett chuckled. “Our healer needs healing? Can’t she do that to herself.”
“Nay,” Gamal said, wrinkling his nose. “Something about the energy to heal would make her weaker. She must just suffer like the rest of us.”
“We better keep her warm,” Garrett said. “Wouldn’t do to have her die before she is of use to the king.”
Merewin snuggled into the warm blanket. Perhaps that would be her best option. Perhaps she could just die and go to the Earth Mother before being forced to fail before all these hopeful people. If she would die anyway, best that it happen before watching another child die in her arms.
With the surrender of someone not willing to fight, she slumped, nearly falling off the seat.
Hauk caught her and slowly lowered her to the deck. His warm, rough hand cupped her forehead. “You don’t feel overly hot, but you need to rest.”
She looked up into his face. “I canna heal him, please doona take me to heal him. I will fail,” she pleaded.
He frowned. “Rest now.”
Merewin closed her eyes to the feel of Hauk tucking the blanket around her body, the salt wind brushing against her face.
Nightmarish images swirled through Merewin’s unconscious mind. Visions of her mother being torn apart by leather winged demons, the accusatory yelling of the parents of the boy who had died, an image of a ferocious dragon holding a limp Viking child. “Nay,” Merewin mumbled against the tormenting scenes.
“Shh, child,” a calm voice overrode the cries and curses. “Your body needs to rest peacefully to fight your illness.” Drakkina’s misty face smiled at her in another dream.
“What if I doona want to fight this illness?” Merewin asked indignantly.
Drakkina’s face frowned. “Stop talking nonsense, Merewin. You don’t give up, you’re a fighter, just like your parents.”
“And what did fighting bring them? Death.”
“Your mother died saving her children. She never stopped fighting for your lives, and if you give it up now so easily, what does that make her sacrifice? It makes it in vain. Didn’t you say these same words to your sister? Remember!” Drakkina’s presence became larger in her mind, almost taking up every little space. “If you die, your mother will have failed, Merewin.” The crone’s face swelled in her mind. “You will live and get well and do what you must to save this world, because that is what your mother died for.”
Merewin cried in her dream. “Mamaí.”
“She is in the Earth Mother’s embrace, but you can’t go to her yet. You must fight to keep this world from falling apart, a
nd the first step is to live!”
Merewin rubbed her legs together where the dragonfly birthmark itched on her skin.
“Now let yourself fall into a deep slumber, child. I will guard your dreams,” Drakkina shook her head. “Dragons and demons,” she muttered and looked directly into Merewin’s unconscious mind. “Sleep, deep!” she yelled, and Merewin found herself relaxing into the bottomless depths of comforting darkness.
The smell was intoxicating as it tickled at her groggy mind. The sea mixed with wild wind, leather, and something else warm, exciting. In her mind, she saw Hauk, full of power. He stared at her intensely as he had when he’d pinned her to the tree back home. A stare full of raw promises of pleasure. Merewin glanced around. Was the old crone still there, eavesdropping on this dream? Merewin didn’t sense anyone else. She looked down at the birthmark and noticed that she wore her black night running leggings. She looked up to find Hauk walking toward her and her heart picked up pace. The birthmark didn’t feel warm or tingly. The witch was gone.
Hauk caught her against him. She didn’t struggle but wound her hands in his shoulder length hair that waved down in sensual disarray. He lowered his mouth to hers and…
“Merewin,” his voice penetrated her dream. But how could he be kissing her and talking at the same time? “Wake, woman.” The dream Hauk dissolved as she turned her head.
She flicked open her eyes against the high sun. Hauk’s face was so close to her that she almost continued the dream and kissed him, but the foul taste in her mouth stopped her. Merewin tried to swallow but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She groaned.
“Time to go, Merewin,” he said and gently hoisted. Hauk pushed a leather flask in her hand. “Drink, to clear your throat.”
Merewin took a sip of honey mead past the rawness. The honey soothed it.
Hauk handed a small chunk of cheese and a hard piece of flat bread. “You’ve gone all day without food. You won’t get well that way.” He stared her down until she took a small nibble.
At the taste of the tangy cheese, her stomach growled, remembering the instinct to nourish the body.
Hauk nodded and stood as she chewed the bread.
Merewin took another drink and then noticed that they were the only two on the dragonship. Where had all the warriors gone? And the boat was blessedly still.
She looked over the side. People moved along the wharf, talking, laughing, arguing. Long tables were set up where fishermen sold their daily catch of fish, mussels, and oysters. Children ran after dogs while others carried buckets and sacks. Thatched houses sat just back from the wooden walkways leading around the water’s edge. Piers jutted off the walkways, one of them leading to Hauk’s ship.
“Where are we?” Merewin asked.
Hauk looked up from gathering the food remains together. “Ribe.” She looked back out over the steady throng of people. “It is one of the great Danish ports and where King Ragnar and his followers have taken up residence.”
“Ye live here?”
“Some ways out through the forests to the east, away from the smells of humanity.”
Merewin wrinkled her nose at the odors floating with the breeze. She could certainly understand why he’d choose to live away from the center of Ribe.
“Where are all the others?” she indicated the empty ship. “Gamal?”
Hauk leaned down and hoisted her up until she found her feet. “They left hours ago when we docked.”
“Hours ago?” she looked overhead at the sun that was beginning to descend. “And we remained behind?”
Hauk handed her a soft cloth. “For your face,” he said indicating that she had some dirt or worse on her cheek.
Merewin hid her face with the cloth and scrubbed.
“Aye, we stayed behind. You were asleep and you needed it to get over your illness.”
Merewin peeked out from behind the cloth. “You stayed so I could,” she paused, “sleep?” She blinked, astounded by the kindness. He’d let her sleep, he cared about her health.
“But now we must go,” he said and picked her up easily in his arms.
“Where?” Merewin asked, relaxing against the warm solid chest.
“To Ragnar’s great hall.”
Merewin stiffened. “Put me down. I can walk.”
Hauk let her slide to the planks, her worry and anger making it easier to ignore the effect of that slide down his body. “I am ill,” she said and sniffed again. “I doona wish to cause an epidemic. Think of that. Would it do to bring a healer who infects the whole royal court with the ague?”
He looked hard at her and spoke low. “It is not my choice, Merewin. A runner came just before I woke you. Despite your illness, Ragnar demands the presence of the healer. Ivarr must not be doing well.”
“The child?”
Hauk nodded. He turned to jump to the pier and lifted Merewin over the side of the dragonship. As he brought her feet to the ground and his eyes leveled with hers he stared hard. “Your eyes are green like sunny forest moss.”
Merewin held her breath, the description sounded like a compliment.
“But fear lurks there.” He frowned like she was at fault somehow.
Merewin didn’t know how to answer.
“You belong to me, Merewin. You are my thrall and under my protection.”
The reminder of her low status raked against Merewin’s nerves. She frowned, her eyes narrowing.
Hauk grinned and nodded. “Aye, I prefer your anger to your fear, woman. Adds spark to the green.”
Before Merewin could snap back a retort, not that she could think of one with him grinning, Hauk leaned in and kissed her, briskly, possessively. The warmth flooded down to her toes in one huge rush.
“Hauk!” a woman yelled. Hauk pulled away, but smiled down at Merewin’s bemused expression. He ran large hands through her hair, working fingers through the tangles. “Hauk! What’s taking you so long?”
He glanced behind Merewin.
“I hope ye catch my ague,” Merewin mumbled, making Hauk laugh deeply. Merewin turned to see a tall woman full with child lumbering toward them. She waved and smiled, causing the family resemblance to jump out.
“Hauk, is this the healer?” she stopped next to Hauk’s arm and grabbed it for balance. “Svein and Gamal told me what she did for him, how Gamal would have died or remained asleep if she hadn’t healed him, and that she healed all the villagers, too.” The woman barely took in a breath as the words poured out. “I must thank her.” She smiled with teary eyes. “If Gamal had died you would have had to take me in, Hauk. You need to be thanking her, too.”
The woman looked closely at Merewin. She spoke louder and slowly, enunciating each word. “I wish to thank you.” She grinned broadly then turned to Hauk. “Can she understand me?” Neither Hauk nor Merewin had had even the chance to say a word. “Hauk, speak.” She smacked his arm and frowned. “You never talk.”
“And you, sister, talk enough for the whole village.”
She kicked toward his shin, but he easily side stepped the leather clad foot, making her wobble. Hauk’s hand shot out to steady.
“If this child wasn’t making me so awkward, you would have felt my revenge.”
Merewin couldn’t help but smile at the comfortable banter, and felt a small pang of jealousy. She had grown up without her siblings, without the support and love that seemed to emanate from the two of them.
“Bera, this is Merewin, and she can understand our words.”
Bera turned toward Merewin, her arms open in a hug. “You saved my Gamal.”
Hauk stepped between them as Bera’s body fell against him. “Merewin is sick and doesn’t wish to infect anyone.”
Bera peered around Hauk. “If she does, she will heal us.”
Hauk snorted. “You are as bad as Ragnar, Bera. You know that there is no magick to heal, not here in Midgard. That is only for the gods.”
Merewin ignored Hauk’s words, and peeked around him to Bera. “Yer husband has
been very kind to me. I am glad to have helped him return to ye.” Merewin turned her head to the ground and sniffed. “But I’m afraid I am sick and canna heal until I am well.” She would go along with the misinformation Hauk had devised to give some time.
Bera stepped back, her hand resting on her rounded mid section. Her smile remained. “I will honor you with a feast once you are well.”
Merewin felt a blush and lowered her eyes. “I am a slave now, not a guest to be honored with a feast.”
Merewin heard Hauk grunt and caught a glimpse of Bera’s foot making contact with Hauk’s shin. “You’re a thrall right now, Merewin, but thralls can buy their freedom,” Bera said as she glared at Hauk.
Merewin looked up confused.
“I can buy my freedom?”
“Aye, you can,” Bera supplied.
Hauk’s voice rumbled as he pulled away from the pier. “You’re worth far too much for you to ever pay for your worth, Merewin,” Hauk said.
Merewin let the wind flip her hair back as she tilted her face up to Hauk. “Ye set my worth then?”
“Aye,” he said, his gaze running along her face and hair.
“Then set it low,” she said, through clenched teeth.
“Nay,” he countered defiantly.
“I am but a fake, remember, an illusionist with no true magick. What then is my great worth?” She smiled through her temper as she turned his own words back on him.
He leaned close to one ear, his hot breath sending tingles down her neck. “Your body is molded for a man’s hand, Merewin. Your hair is soft and rich. Your eyes gleam with the spirit of a warrior. And your taste sets fire to a man’s loins. You have great worth despite your delusions.”
Merewin gulped past the constriction in her throat and numbly allowed Hauk to drag her toward a long, double-storied structure. Several warriors stood outside the door, weapons close at hand.
Hauk’s words spiraled through, flipping her stomach and causing a flush of heat to infuse her face. Merewin felt the familiar tug of her skirts as Bela caught up to them and climbed up to rest across her shoulders.
Magick (The Dragonfly Chronicles Book 2) Page 8