She managed to get out of the way of the pig's charge, but then it crashed into the tree. Hard. She lost her grip and came tumbling down on top of the animal's bristled back.
Instinctively, she hung on, but the rampaging pig was no tree. Still, she knew if she fell, it would trample her to death if it didn't gore her first. Yet she stayed on, and it took her a moment to realise why.
When the pig had hit the tree, its tusks had gotten stuck. It seemed more concerned at getting free of the tree than bucking her off.
She could climb off and run, but where would she go? Could she climb a different tree before the beast fought itself free?
Hadn't the shoemaker told a tale of how he'd slayed a boar by getting it stuck in a tree?
Before she could answer her own questions, the cat intervened.
As nimble as any sailor, it ran down the tree trunk, jumped on the pig's head, then used it as a springboard to leap away into the forest.
And in so doing, freed the beast's tusks.
Summoning some vague memory from the shoemaker's tales, Sativa yanked out her knife and plunged it into the beast's throat. Once, twice, before the squealing animal threw her off.
Sativa landed heavily on her back, but she leaped to her feet, ready to run.
But the pig didn't seem to see her any more as it danced around in a frenzy, trying to dislodge the knife in its throat as its lifeblood flowed out onto the forest floor.
Finally, it collapsed in a heap, sides heaving, as it turned baleful eyes on Sativa once more.
Fury forced her to hold her ground. "After surviving pirates, I'm not about to surrender to a pig," she said.
The beast seemed to understand. It took one last breath, and then stilled.
Sativa waited for a long moment before she dared approach. She nudged the animal with her foot, but it didn't move. Only then did she lean down to retrieve her knife. The handle was slick with blood, and it took her a few tries to pull it out. She succeeded on the fourth attempt, only to have a gush of blood spatter her with gore.
Sativa glanced down. Between the wine stains and the blood, she didn't think Melitta would want her torn tunic back.
Her belly growled in agreement.
Sativa wanted to laugh. How she could still be hungry while looking at the bloody pig, she wasn't sure, but it was a pig. Pigs meant pork and bacon and ham and all sorts of things that would make a lovely breakfast. She'd have to butcher it first and work out how to cook it, but just the thought of roast pork made her willing to try.
Hooves thudded behind her. Lots of them.
Fearing the pig's herd had come to seek their revenge, Sativa whirled, knife in one hand, and murder in her eyes.
THIRTY-ONE
"This way!" Dag cried, urging his horse after the dog.
Reidar had long since come to believe there was no pig at all, a thought some of the others had muttered aloud, but he was loath to call off a chase when he was enjoying himself. So he followed Dag and the others followed after.
The dog went mad, almost dragging the leash out of Dag's hand. Dag's horse reared back, and the man had a good deal of trouble getting both beasts under control. In the confusion, Rudolf moved ahead.
"What's the beast found this time?" Reidar asked. "Another squirrel, perhaps?"
The others laughed. All but Rudolf.
Rudolf was strangely silent for a long moment, before he said, "The hound has found a pig, all right, and more besides."
"What do you mean?" Reidar said.
Rudolf beckoned, riding forward.
Reidar followed.
THIRTY-TWO
Not pigs, but men on horseback. Lots of them, armed and dressed like the warriors they were. They crowded into the clearing, and yet they held back, keeping their horses away from the pig carcass.
The girl she had been would have dropped the dagger and begged for help, but Sativa had not journeyed across the sea for nothing. She'd bury the blade in her own breast before letting any of these men touch her. So she brandished her knife and held her ground.
"There's your pig, cousin," one man said. "It seems the victor on the field is a girl today."
Laughter bubbled up from the other men.
"I'll thank you to keep your covetous hands off my pig," Sativa snapped. Her fury blazed bigger than the bonfire last night.
"This is the king's forest, his private hunting preserve, and he alone owns everything in it. Including that pig," the first man said calmly.
Sativa thought for a moment. She'd heard similar things at home, but there was more to it than that. "The beast charged at me. Tried to kill me. I vanquished my foe, which makes everything he owns forfeit to me. The pig might only have meat, but the meat is mine!"
Laughter died as the men surveyed the scene. The blood, the pig, the dagger in her hand. Lust began to smoulder in their eyes.
One man pushed forward, while the rest hung back. He stared hungrily at her chest.
Sativa glanced down. Her tunic left little to the imagination, and her necklace had fallen out. Carefully, she tucked the amber ring out of sight and tried to hold the worst rip together.
This only seemed to inflame the man further. "Back away, all of you," he said softly. "She is mine."
Sativa swallowed. "The first man to touch me will die like that pig." She jerked her knife at the carcass. "I belong to no man. Not even your king. Who owes me a bite of that beast, once his cooks are done with it."
THIRTY-THREE
"Skadi," Rudolf breathed.
For a moment, Reidar saw what Rudolf did. The blood-spattered girl could have been a goddess from the old faith. Skadi, goddess of the hunt...but also the goddess of justice, vengeance and righteous anger.
"I belong to no man. Not even your king. Who owes me a bite of that beast, once his cooks are done with it."
Reidar laughed aloud at this girl's courage. Armed with a knife before a dozen mounted knights, she showed no fear whatsoever. But a girl who could take on a full-grown boar with nothing more than a dagger was a force to be reckoned with. A huntress indeed.
And yet...she seemed familiar somehow. Something about the proud set of her head, as she dropped neither bow nor curtsey as she met his gaze. Almost as though she considered herself his equal.
And there was that glimpse of gold, now hidden beneath her shift, that made him wonder all the more.
He slid down from his horse. "We will make camp here for the night," he announced. Reidar waited until he and the girl were alone before he added, "I will offer you a meal and a bed for the night, and on the morrow I will take you to the castle where the king lives. You can bring the pig, too, and I'll see that the castle kitchens prepare it properly. You can't ask for fairer than that."
She stared at him for a moment, as though reading his soul, then nodded. She crouched to wipe her blade on the grass before tucking it away. Only as she reached her full height once more did she fold her arms across her breasts, and Reidar realised that she must be freezing, wearing nothing but a shift.
He shrugged off his cloak and held it out. "Please take it. You must be cold."
Once again, she hesitated, before she accepted the cloak. "I thank you," she said.
He stood beside her in silence, though his curiosity burned fiercer than any fire. He had so many questions he wanted to ask that he wasn't sure which should be first.
When his servants seemed to take an inordinately long time setting up his pavilion, he decided to satisfy a tiny part of his curiosity.
"Show me what you wear around your neck," he said.
Her eyes seemed filled with fire. "What I wear around my neck is none of your business, sir."
So she did not know him, then. "What if I were to tell you that I am the king of these lands, and everything and everyone within my borders is my business?"
She sized him up. Finally, her shoulders seemed to relax and she said, "If what you say is true, then perhaps it is your business, after all." She drew a leather thong
from beneath her shift, and held it up. Suspended from the cord was a silver ring with a yellow-gold stone.
A ring that would not fit on even Reidar's smallest finger, now, but he recognised it like it was yesterday.
"How did you come to have this?"
She tucked the necklace beneath her borrowed cloak. "If you are truly the king of these lands, then you already know the answer."
Sativa. Hope welled in his breast, but Reidar forced it back down. He couldn't be certain. Not yet. "This ring was given to a girl to whom I made a promise. Only she and I knew of it, though there was one other witness to my vow."
Her eyebrows rose. "There was?"
He almost laughed, but he managed to control himself. "One who is not likely to speak of it. He was the fattest pony I had ever beheld."
She laughed. "I'd forgotten about Philip. I gave him to my sisters soon after that, who spoiled him far more than I ever did. If horses ever receive a divine reward, then I hope he is reunited with them in heaven."
There was no doubt in Reidar's mind now. He'd found her, and he had no intention of letting her out of his sight until they were married.
"Sire, your tent is ready for you," a servant said, bowing low.
Reidar bowed to Sativa. "After you."
The servant looked surprised, but Reidar caught many startled glances aimed at the girl as they headed for his tent. For a moment, he saw what they did – a bedraggled girl in a torn shift, whose only protection was the king's cloak. They would look at her very differently when he crowned her as his queen. Reidar grinned.
Only Rudolf dared to put his thoughts into words. He bowed extravagantly in his cousin's direction. "I wish you a pleasurable night, Your Majesty, with such pleasant company. Your little goddess might be a beautiful woman under all the dirt." He eyed Sativa appreciatively.
"Put your eyes back in your head, man," Reidar snapped. "Don't you have a wife waiting for you on some island somewhere? This one's mine." He put a proprietary arm around Sativa and pushed her into his pavilion.
"If you are sure, cousin," Rudolf said, turning away. "My best wishes for your health and happiness, then."
Happiness. Yes. Reidar's smile returned, and he stepped into his tent.
Only to meet the point of Sativa's blade, aimed between his eyes.
"If you think I will allow you to kill me and rape my corpse, you are mistaken," she said fiercely.
Reidar's mouth dropped open. It was a long moment before he managed to say, "Honestly, neither of those things have ever crossed my mind. It sounds like you have endured quite an ordeal, Princess Sativa, since you left your father's castle. He's had men scouring the country for you, but it seems he underestimated you. Yet there is one thing I don't understand. Why are you here?"
"My father offered me as a prize to any man who could slay a dragon," Sativa said. "On the night he was to have me marry a shoemaker, I remembered a prior engagement."
Reidar laughed. "In that case, I offer you my protection, and my hospitality, for as long as you wish," Reidar replied. "Even my sword, to defend you against this shoemaker, should he come searching for you."
"He will not come searching for me. His heart lies elsewhere."
Reidar spread his arms wide. "Then what do you wish of me? If it is within my power, I will grant it, Princess."
For the second time, she tucked her knife away. Reidar hoped it would be the last, for this being threatened by women with weapons would take some getting used to.
"Years ago, you talked of a tower," she began cautiously.
Hope blossomed within him. "I promised a tower and a crown, to the woman who would become my queen," Reidar corrected.
For the first time, she smiled. "I'd settle for some water to wash with and a bed, then maybe a meal and something to wear that isn't covered in blood."
Reidar wanted to envelop her in his arms and swear to take care of her for the rest of her days. What had the girl been through to get here? Killing a boar with nothing but a knife. He couldn't have done it. Half foreign princess, half ancient goddess come to life, and every inch the woman of his dreams.
But her eyes were wary, as well they might be, for she did not know him yet.
"It will be as you command, Princess," he said.
She lifted her chin. "I do."
THIRTY-FOUR
As Sativa settled into the king's bed – without the king, for Reidar slept outside the tent, as he insisted her honour demanded – she let out a sigh of contentment. She'd washed away weeks' worth of salt and dirt as best she could with just a cloth and basin of water. She'd eaten a meal worth tasting for the first time in weeks. And she now wore a tunic without holes, as fine as Melitta's had once been before time and trouble had worn it to rags.
She was safe. Whatever happened next was for Reidar to worry about, not her. No more pirates or perilous voyages or pea straw or pigs. Ever again.
She remembered the lust in his eyes, not unlike the look every man wore when he looked at a beautiful woman. What would it feel like to surrender to such a thing? Not the cruel hands of a man like Zydrunas, but the welcoming arms of Reidar. A king who could take what he wanted without asking, and yet he held back for honour's sake, or so he said.
He'd offered her his own cloak, his bed, his...everything. She'd crossed the seas to accept a man she barely knew, but she'd dreamed of for as long as she could remember. Could the dream match the reality?
His hands as he'd laid the cloak on her shoulders, wrapping its folds around her, still warm from his body. Strong and gentle, all at the same time. And reverent, too.
The look on his face as he'd brought her food. Not a servant – he'd carried the platter with his own hands, and shared it with her, for he'd brought enough for two. He'd pointed out the choicest morsels and insisted they were hers. The lust was gone, as though it had never been, replaced with tenderness. Did she imagine a little longing, too? Probably. But alone in her bed, nay, his bed, she let herself believe it. That Reidar longed for her the way she did for him.
Thoughts of him warmed her through the night, and in the cold morning, as well, as she mounted up behind Reidar for the ride back to the castle. At first, the heat of him between her thighs made her blush, but that was what she'd come for, hadn't she? To be his wife, to share his bed and his body and all that he could give her. So she held her head high, wrapped her arms around his hard torso, and hung on to the man who would be her husband.
All too soon, the forest gave way to farmland, and a castle appeared on the cliffs. Smaller than her father's, but above it loomed the most delightful sight of all – the Sea Tower, Reidar's promise.
"Thank you," she whispered, pressing her lips to his neck. "Thank you."
He reached back and cradled her head in his hand, as though he wanted to prolong the kiss. "I am a man of my word, Princess. I promise you that."
Not a princess for much longer. She had promised to be his queen, and Sativa would keep her word, as he'd kept his.
When they rode through the gate of her king's castle, Sativa couldn't suppress a smile as she surveyed her new home.
THIRTY-FIVE
The warm woman at his back set him on fire. The grin on Reidar's face didn't fade for the whole ride home. Some of the other men winked knowingly, thinking they knew what had passed between him and Sativa. He let them believe what they liked. It was no dishonour for a Viken woman to take a lover, unless she had a husband. Sativa could have chosen any one of them to spend the night with, and Reidar would have had no right to complain. It would have sat ill with him, of course, especially if she decided she liked another man more than him...
Reidar shook his head. But she had chosen him, and no other man. He'd even offered her a horse of her own to ride, but she'd refused and insisted on riding with him. He couldn't tell her how thankful he was for that – the reassuring weight of her behind him, reminding him that everything was right in the world, now that she'd been found. When she was ready and fully recovered
from her ordeal, she would name a date for their wedding, and the wedding night that would follow.
Then he would do things to her he'd only dreamed of – all of last night, in fact – as he worshipped her like the goddess she'd resembled. So what if it was sacrilegious? She would be his wife, the woman he'd vowed to honour and cherish. What was worship but an elevated mixture of the two?
All too soon, their ride ended as his castle loomed into view, with her tower standing sentinel above it. Reidar wondered what she would think of a castle so much smaller than her father's. Cold, grey stone instead of warm brick, perched on a clifftop over a turbulent sea, instead of sitting comfortably on a hilltop overlooking vast fields of prosperous farmland.
"I offer you the hospitality of my home, humble though it is," Reidar said. He held his breath, praying she would accept.
Sativa's arms tightened around him as her soft lips kissed his neck. "Thank you. Thank you."
Every bit of him wanted to turn around, take her in her arms and kiss her breathless. Kiss her until he was breathless, too. Reidar realised he had his hand on her face, and he'd half turned to do what he was dreaming about. Not yet, he told himself, forcing his hand to take the reins again.
"The king has returned! The king has returned!" someone shouted from the gate, and then they all took up the cry.
It wasn't a cry of triumph. Something was wrong.
Hakon raced across the bailey and stopped, panting, as Reidar reined in his horse. "Raiders. A whole fleet of them, spotted from the Sea Tower this morning. Headed for the port. They should reach there soon after darkness, and if they do..."
Reidar understood. "With the army near the inland borders and our ships off helping King Boreslas with the search, they'll be defenceless. We'll go at once. Send any able bodied man you can spare after me."
"You're riding to war?" Sativa's voice asked near his ear.
Oh, by all that was holy, he'd forgotten her. But he didn't have time to explain.
Appease Page 8