Merewin’s gaze followed the flames.
Hauk looked back into them himself. The bright swirls and flickers took form before him, shaped by memories, nightmares.
“Then my brother and his wife became ill. We heard news from Ribe how the port had shut down as the town fell. Ships trying to dock were shot at, forcing them away.” Hauk looked over at the silent woman, her spine straight as she sat tall, unmoving.
She pulled her hair to one side, tucking it behind one delicate ear. Perhaps it was the sight of Merewin that made the words come more easily?
“Ingun and my mother nursed them and became ill, as did my father. The morning I had packed Toki and Dalla up, ready to send them with Gamal to Sjaelland.” Hauk’s words felt like ice on his tongue. “Toki collapsed by the stream. Dalla screamed, but I wouldn’t let her touch him. I tied her to a horse with Vivien behind her and sent them flying toward my sister and Gamal.”
“Ye stayed,” Merewin’s voice held the edge of respect, respect he didn’t deserve. He balled his hands into fists.
“Aye, I stayed.” He dropped his head in his hands, scratching along his skull. “I slept outside and continued my rituals of bathing and ate fresh food I found outside. I guess it was enough to keep the illness from me.” The worry and fatigue those days had brought upon him, no battle had ever been more difficult. Hauk looked around the shadowy room remembering the bodies strewn out on pallets around the fire. He’d tried to keep them warm, fed them, rubbed them.
“They grew worse no matter what I did.” He looked at Merewin, and she met his gaze. “You are right when you say that my blade and arm are not all powerful. I couldn’t kill this enemy as it raided my home.”
Her deep eyes held his, without pity, without judgment.
“So,” he swallowed, “I rode to Ribe for help, any help.”
“And ye found healers?”
His expression hardened. “Aye, healers were what they called themselves. There were a dozen or so who had come from Uppsala. They said they knew of this plague and could cure it for enough gold and silver.”
Merewin’s eyes narrowed, but she stayed her tongue.
“I paid them, bought their promises, and brought them into my home.” The ache in his chest made it hard to take a full breath, but he pushed on. “Four of them came, their tinctures and poultices, their chants and burnt offerings to the gods. They heaped foulness on the fire, making the air choking. They poured poisons down the throats of my family to make them purge until they lost the remains of their strength.”
He stopped, his confession on the edge of his mouth. Would she hate him as he hated himself? “And I let them. I begged them to, anything they could do to save them, to save Toki.”
Merewin’s face remained the same, listening, taking in what he had to offer. The only change was a tear that leaked from one of her eyes, trailing unheeded down her cheek.
Hauk tore his gaze from that tear. “And with each painful cure I asked for more.” He looked back at Merewin, anger, self-depravation boiling up from deep within him. “They lied to me until every last one of my family had died, Toki last.”
Merewin’s words were choked. “Perhaps they couldn’t do anything but tried everything they knew.”
“They knew nothing!” he roared standing to pace abruptly before the fire which flared up, tossing and spitting in an unnatural dance.
Merewin backed up from the spontaneous inferno.
“I found out later that others in Ribe had healed on their own with rest and broth and fresh air. Instead I let the healers,” he snarled the word, “heal my family into death.”
Merewin stood up. “It wasn’t yer fault, Hauk.”
“I paid them to torture my family.”
“Without knowing it. Ye are not to blame.”
In two large strides he stood looming. How dare she say that? How dare she make excuses for his crime? “If I am not to blame, then I blame the healers, their ignorance, their self righteous delusions of power. There are no healers!”
Contorted, he glared down into her glistening eyes.
Merewin stood and brought her slender hand up to his face. She laid it against his hot cheek. Her touch was soft and cool, calm and firm. Slowly she ran it down the stubbled side and brushed his lips with her thumb. She didn’t say anything, just stared deeply into his eyes. It was as if she poured her calm spirit into his soul, cooling his fever, untwisting his stomach. Was she healing him? She had said she couldn’t. The fire beside them shrunk back down.
For long moments she stood there, and he realized she wasn’t going to refute or defend something she had not done. Her eyes shone, without pity, without scorn, but with feeling, a mirror of his loss.
Hauk moved closer, his arm circling around her back.
She stepped into his space without blinking.
He placed his large hand around her bare neck, feeling the pulse leap, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she brought her other hand up to cup his cheek so that she held his face. Courage, calm gentle insistence, despite his condemnations.
Merewin parted her lips, wetting them with the tip of her tongue. The smell of her warmth mixed with the clean scent of flowers and spice surrounded him.
Hauk ran his hand up the naked column of her neck and into her hair as she closed her eyes. It was an invitation. He didn’t need to hear the words.
Hauk’s mouth descended with the force of his pain turned to passion, and she met him fully, slanting her mouth against his assault, drawing him towards her. One hand coiled in her long hair, the other roamed the curves of womanly hips molding her to him, ignoring the tug on his healing flesh.
Merewin moaned softly, crumbling his walls of restraint. He would touch her everywhere. Merewin’s hands had left his face and ran across the front of his chest, dropping down to dip under the linen shirt. A shiver of heat tore through him as cool hands branded hot skin, across his stomach, the muscles of his chest jumping under her caress.
Her mouth was of the gods, and he wanted more. Hauk moved his mouth to her ear. “Merewin, I want to taste more of you,” he breathed. He wasn’t sure if she nodded, but she didn’t push away. Permission granted. He moved to her neck, tasting the doe-like skin down the side to the collarbone exposed above the night rail. Merewin was all soft and curved and woman. And she knew, knew his shame. She defended him even when he couldn’t. He was losing himself in the feel of her body, the soft moans, the pressure of her hands kneading his muscles. He would take her, make her truly his, lose himself inside her. Forget.
Hauk reached under lovely long legs, lifting her into his arms, and turned toward the doorway leading to his large empty room. He stopped.
“Hauk?” Merewin asked and turned to look where his eyes focused. A small dark shadow stood in the doorway to Dalla’s room.
“Dalla,” he said, letting Merewin slide down the length of him to stand once again. How much had she seen? How much had she heard? He had never spoken to her about the deaths, about his part in them. Her little face seemed pale in the depths, lost.
Her voice was small like that of a small child. “I want Mama.”
Hauk stood frozen.
Merewin took a step toward his daughter, but the bite in Dalla’s voice stopped her.
“You’re not my mother, thrall. Stay away from me, stay away from all of us.”
“Dalla,” Hauk said as she turned to flee back into her room.
The bark of Toki’s dog out front saved him from having to act toward either female, Dalla in her bitterness and Merewin in her embarrassment.
Without looking at Merewin, Hauk turned to the door as the thuds of horses’ hooves stopped outside. He grabbed his axe and stepped out into the fresh night air.
Svein and Bjalki pulled their mounts around, the hot breath of the horses puffing out under the moonlight.
Bjalki looked down at Hauk. “Bring the healer now. My brother-in-law commands it.”
“The boy is near death and Aslaug cries for Merewin,” Svein add
ed. “Even if she’s not well, Ragnar demands her presence.”
Hauk watched Merewin run back into the house. Bjalki spit on the ground next to his horse. “She runs.”
The courage Hauk had felt in her, seen in her this night, told him otherwise. “Nay,” Hauk said coldly. “We will come,” he dismissed them.
“We will wait,” Bjalki answered.
Merewin’s bare feet slapped the earth as she dashed into her small room. There was no time to think now as she pulled the night rail over her head, no time to think about what Dalla saw and heard. No time to wish she had been here three years ago to save Hauk’s family, to spare Hauk the pain she’d seen in his eyes, felt under his very skin. And definitely no time to think about what might have happened between Hauk and her just a few minutes ago.
Merewin shivered in the cool air as she pulled on the second day gown that she’d brought. She stopped for a moment as she fastened the brooches at her shoulders to hold up the soft green material. Merewin ran a hand up her bare neck remembering the feel of Hauk’s hand against her skin. She touched her lips, still feeling the pressure of his kiss.
Male voices out in the hall jolted her into motion again and she grabbed a cloak and the leather bag of stones. By the holy Earth Mother, she hadn’t even had time to call Drakkina, having slept most of the day away. The only good thing was that her internal healing powers had chased off her illness while she slept.
Merewin looked around the cramped room. “Drakkina, ye old spirit. I know ye’ve followed me.” Nothing moved in the room, no transparent form wavered in a corner. “Fine mess ye’ve gotten me into,” she raised her voice a little louder. “Come help me get out of it.” Merewin took a deep breath and focused her internal warmth, her core of energy into a long thread. She closed her eyes and imagined it flying out from her to the ethereal Wiccan Master. As she opened her eyes, a mist coalesced in the corner. Thank the Earth Mother!
“Merewin, we must go,” Hauk’s voice broke through the curtain to her room a scant second before he did. Merewin glanced between Hauk and the transparent form of Drakkina.
“I…I was just changing.”
Hauk didn’t notice the apparition.
“I needed my stones.”
Hauk frowned. “Very well, let’s get this over with.” He stepped in, blocking Merewin’s view of Drakkina. Hauk caught her chin in his hand. “This situation, it could be,” he paused, “unpredictable.”
Was he warning her? Merewin knew her life would be in jeopardy if the boy died, but that didn’t scare her as much as the mere act of failing and being forced to witness up close the terrible death of another innocent child. She was on the edge of plunging into her nightmare.
Hauk hadn’t let go of her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “And when we come out of the other side of this, we will finish,” he stopped, his gaze dipping to her lips, “our discussion.” He dropped her chin abruptly and turned, pulling her behind him.
We? He’d said ‘when we come out’. That’s what he’d said, she was sure of it. We. Merewin rolled the word around as she ran to keep up with his long strides. As he lifted her up onto his large horse and mounted behind her, Merewin repeated the simple word, giving her something to focus on, quelling the fear.
Merewin leaned back into the cradle of Hauk’s body. She needed to think fast, needed a plan to save Ivarr. She’d leave the saving of her own life up to Hauk.
Moonlight flickered down through the ghostly trees and Merewin closed her eyes. She felt a core of strength warm down in her belly and she focused on it, a glowing ball of power deep within her, power that would do nothing for a child who wasn’t old enough to fight for his life.
Within her mind, Merewin funneled her magick into a thin thread, up and through with each breath. It wouldn’t leave, but she hoped, would illuminate her to someone who could help.
Drakkina! Merewin yelled inside the cell of her mind, calling the Wiccan Master with her thread of magick. Drakkina, follow me, I have need of ye. Drakkina!
The horse moved under her body, pulsing over the ground. The dragonfly birthmark on Merewin’s inner thigh tingled, making her rub her spread legs against the horse.
“I am near, Gilla’s child,” the Wiccan Master’s voice dipped into Merewin’s mind, snapping her eyes open. Moonlight sliced along the trees that blurred past. Merewin glanced lit torches at the perimeter of Ribe and panic squeezed her heart. Drakkina! I need yer help, crone!
“Are you well?” Hauk’s breath warmed her ear. The sensation shot through Merewin bringing back to life the heat of their kiss. Between the panic of riding toward her nightmare and the sensual energy of Hauk’s nearness, Merewin could barely breathe to answer. “You tremble,” he said simply, and tucked her tighter into him. He leaned closer so that his rough cheek brushed against her own. “I will not let them kill you when you fail to save Ivarr.”
His words, though positive, didn’t comfort.
“I,” she began and then stopped to breathe. “I hate to fail, and I hate death.” She wondered if he could even hear the words before they were snatched away in the wind that raced past them.
His warm whisper sounded in her ear. “We have much in common, then.”
The three horses stopped short before Ragnar’s great hall. Was her birthmark still tingling? There was hardly time to notice as Hauk whisked her off the horse and in through the heavy oak door.
The hushed sound of weeping and deep murmurs coupled with the whine of a dog chained at the back of the room. The fire roared, making the room feel like an oven and the smoke nearly made Merewin cough. At least twenty men and women hovered about the room. Their gaze turned toward her.
“Merewin!” Aslaug jumped from the side of Ivarr’s platform and ran. “You’ve come. Please,” she said and dragged Merewin past Ragnar toward the little form under the furs.
His face looked slack and slightly purple, probably from the strain on his little heart. The disease that engulfed him had finally come to claim the life-giving organ.
Merewin took a deep breath and pulled back the furs. She rested her hands on the little boy, running them along his distended stomach and up to his chest where she felt the faint thud indicating that he still lived.
“He’s turning blue,” Aslaug said, as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Just like my other babes, just before,” she stopped on a sob.
Merewin turned to the terrified queen and gripped her hands.
“Aslaug,” she bent down so that she could catch her eyes with her gaze. “Aslaug, hang on to yerself,” Merewin said with soft firmness. “I may need yer help, and ye need to be calm.”
Aslaug nodded vigorously, pulling at the core strength of a woman willing to do anything to save her child. Her tears dried and a determined look strengthened her features. “Aye, Merewin. I will do whatever you tell me.”
Merewin nodded and turned back to Ivarr. She laid out several stones along his body. Drakkina, she called silently.
I am here. Drakkina’s voice came in her mind and Merewin looked up to see the ghostly figure hovering at Ivarr’s head. Merewin glanced at Aslaug and the men who had come closer, Hauk, Ragnar, Svein, and Bjalki. They didn’t seem to notice the spirit.
They can’t see me.” Drakkina indicated the child. You better heal him quickly before he passes. Even you can’t bring him back, then.
Ye think I doona know that! Merewin’s mind screamed and she stomped her feet. I canna heal him, Crone.
Why not? Drakkina’s confident grin faltered.
He is not old enough to desire life. He remembers the arms of the Earth Mother.
Then you need to convince him, Drakkina said as if it were a simple task.
He needs to realize that if he gives up life, he loses everything he loves here, Merewin said, her plan taking shape in her frantic mind.
“Yes, yes,” Drakkina mouthed silently, a contemplative smile on her thin lips. “What does he love?”
Merewin passed her hands over the cold s
tones. She kicked off her leather shoes so that the bare soles of her feet felt the dirt. Even as she funneled the power of the earth up and into the stones, they barely warmed.
Merewin sighed. She could not heal him this way. She glanced back at Drakkina.
Ye need to enter his mind and tell me what he loves and tell him to live.
Me? Drakkina’s image wavered. I do not enter the minds of children.
What?
Drakkina waved her hands back and forth. Their minds are like, she hesitated as if looking for the right words. They are like quick pictures instead of thoughts, more like those of animals, mostly thinking only of the present, disjointed. Makes me dizzy just trying.
Try anyway!
Drakkina’s form took a step away. I’m no good at it, either. Just as Merewin was about to scream some obscenities in her already pounding head, Drakkina smiled. But I know someone who is good at it, reading animals and probably children.
Merewin looked at her expectantly.
Serena, your sister.
Merewin’s sister lived in the eighteenth century. Drakkina had threaded Merewin over a temporal bridge to heal Serena. Merewin’s birth mother had gifted Serena with telepathy.
“Merewin?” Aslaug whispered. “Is there anything I could help you with?”
Merewin realized then that she had been standing still for some time while she conversed with Drakkina. “Call her,” Merewin said out loud and turned to Aslaug.
“Call who?” Aslaug asked.
Merewin glanced at the curious occupants of the room.
Hauk stood frowning, legs braced as if preparing for battle. His hand rested near the hilt of his sword.
Bjalki eyed her form, moving his stare along her until she felt stripped.
Merewin looked back to Aslaug. “I need to converse with my god.”
Aslaug’s eyes widened and a murmur rippled through the room.
Merewin ignored the onlookers and the growing scowl on Hauk’s face.
“She will need room. She and I,” Merewin cleared her throat and spoke louder. “The Earth Mother and I need room to work on Ivarr.”
Aslaug turned to the room. “I want most of you gone, out,” she ordered.
Magick (The Dragonfly Chronicles Book 2) Page 11