by Darby, Brit
She spied a bonfire near the warehouses flaring high, slave traders gathered about it for warmth and company in the cold night. She heard Ichbar’s raucous laughter and avoided the area. Torches inside the open wooden structures she passed revealed slaves new and as yet unsold, most settled down for the night. Cailin’s thoughts traveled unbidden to another slave once again.
Janus’ hut was but yards from the warehouses. Before she reasoned why, her quiet steps carried her in that direction. The door to the hut stood open, yet it was dark inside.
She found herself looking for Drake, and without a moment’s thought, moved closer in hopes of discovering him amongst the sleeping forms. She hesitated on the threshold.
Whatever possessed her to stop here anyway?
Deciding it was best she did not see him, she turned to leave. As she did so she saw Drake, standing nearby at a barrel of water in the moonlight. His tunic was stripped off and he splashed water upon his upper body, cleansing himself. His muscles rippled with each movement, his hands dipping water to wash his face. Wet hands smoothed back his damp hair and he turned to find her staring, awkwardly frozen in place.
Cailin moved to flee but the tattoos marking his flesh caught her eye. She did not move, the breath in her chest stilled, as did time and all her surroundings. Two Dragons on his skin reached toward each other, one dropping from his shoulder, the other crawling up from his side and across his stomach, their claws reaching, grasping together to create one giant entwined in an artful rendering of swirls and knots.
It was his Dragons that had called her here.
Chapter Five
CAILIN FELT THE UNMISTAKABLE draw of the Dragons, their companion swords burning like a firebrand at her back. Pulled towards them, their needs instilled inside her, their will became hers and she knew what she must do.
Without a single word to the man who endured her watchful gaze, Cailin went into the hut to wake Janus. She set down her lantern on a simple table and the golden light woke the two men sleeping there on pallets.
“Mistress,” Janus said, scrambling to his feet in groggy confusion. He rubbed his eyes and his gaze darted to Drake, now framed in the doorway behind her. “What brings you down here at so late an hour?”
“Janus, have you finished moving the cargo?”
“Yes, all but a few crates. Now that the crew is back, we will finish today. Why?”
“I have come to fetch these men for another urgent task.”
“At this hour? Where is Captain Gunnar? It was not wise for you to come down to the docks alone, Mistress.”
Cailin ignored his questions and adopted a tone of firm authority. “Janus, fetch me the master key to their collars. If Ichbar asks why, tell him that Gunnar ordered it.”
Talk of collars was like sour grapes on her tongue. She hated slavery, hated that it was common practice here. She herself had bought two men like cattle. It made her stomach twist into a knot and lie like a rock inside her.
Studying her a moment, visibly perplexed, Janus did not move.
“Is there a problem, Janus? Have I not been clear in what I ask?”
“No, Mistress. I will get the key,” he conceded and left to find Ichbar. In the meantime Leo sat up and took sleepy stock of what was happening. He yawned hugely. “What’s going on?”
“Indeed. What is going on?” Drake echoed softly yet tensely behind her. Cailin turned to face him as he stepped forward from the shadows. The wild thought occurred to her that if she took these men with her, she would be able to take more supplies and a larger boat, the faering. How she might keep them in line, she wasn’t certain. It was possible Drake was especially dangerous. Hadn’t both Ichbar and Janus warned her about Picts?
Then why, her mind cried out in alarm, why are you doing this? But she already knew the answer; it was because of the Dragon tattoos.
JANUS RETURNED A SHORT time later, wheezing and out of breath, still looking worried as he handed her the large iron key. Cailin knew that look and guessed he had hurried to complete his task, so as to not leave her alone with the two slaves any longer than necessary. “Janus, please go see Hulda now. There is a heavy item she needs some help with moving out of the house.” He nodded, and always obedient, left to do as she asked. But, there was enough doubt in his look that Cailin felt the sudden need to hurry, leaving no time to gather more supplies. She must make do with what she had.
Drake had put his tunic back on by then, but Cailin remembered what lay beneath it. Her mind recalled the intricate design, the twisted length of two creatures. Like the Dragons of her dreams, they drew her to this man, this proud Pict whom she had paid for in silver coin.
“Come,” was all she said to Drake and Leo and started off down the docks in the direction she was headed before being sidetracked. She didn’t want to waste another moment. So far, luck was with her. She’d not tempt fate any more.
When they reached the place where the faering was moored, Cailin was forced to turn her attention to the two men who silently followed her. What would she say? For a long moment, they all looked at one another.
“I must leave Hedeby. Tonight. Will you go with me?” Cailin’s voice sounded small, insecure in the quiet night. She knew Drake was the one she needed to convince.
She saw Drake’s confusion and suspicion, and reluctantly offered further explanation. “If you do not come with me, I will have to take a smaller boat. It’s too dangerous for me to go alone. Please, I need your help.”
Drake had not heard the word please in a long time. It snuck past the hard reserve he had built around himself. He would have sworn he even heard a slight tremble in her voice. An act, no doubt. What game did she play?
“Why ask? You own us now. We are your slaves.” He jangled the chains dragging from his collar to emphasis his statement. The word slaves came out sneering; ugly, as ugly as his mood at that moment. Cailin’s eyes narrowed and he wondered if he had angered her. Though, he decided, it didn’t matter if he had.
“I do not believe in owning a human being. No matter how arrogant or uncivilized he may be. You are free to do as you wish.”
To his amazement, after her cool declaration she handed him the master key to their collars, turned away and stepped down into a small boat moored there. Drake felt Leo jab him in the ribs with his elbow. When he turned to glare at Leo, he saw what choice his cousin had made.
“You are a damned fool to trust us,” Drake warned Cailin, but she did not reply, just continued to untie the ropes in preparation to leave. He unlocked and removed his collar, then Leo’s. He tossed the chains and collars into the water, where they splashed and sank beneath the waves.
“Do you hear me, woman?” he asked, irritated. “Your gullible nature will get you killed, sooner or later.”
She shrugged. “The Dragons tell me differently.”
“Dragons?” He knew he sounded angry and he was. What the hell was she talking about?
She stilled in coiling a rope and looked up at him. Darkness shadowed her face now, but his mind recalled every detail, every beautiful inch of it.
“You are marked with the Dragons, Drake Talorcan. It is for this reason I purchased you. It is because of them I trust you — with my honor, my future, my life.”
It was too much — the simple statement struck something deep within him. It was painful. Drake wanted more than anything to turn away from this strange woman and her bizarre notion. No, more like run away, as fast as his two legs could carry him. But he didn’t. Again, Leo nudged him.
Drake got into the boat. Roughly, he jerked the rope from her hand and finished the task she had started. She said nothing but settled into the stern with the steering oar. Leo and Drake each took a place at an oar.
“Where are we going?” Drake demanded.
“Sweden.”
“What’s there?” Drake didn’t like this, not one bit. Yet, he found himself going along with her madness, despite all the warnings inside signaling him not to. His intuition told h
im to walk away from her and the trouble he sensed she was in. Clear up to that pretty little neck of hers.
“Horses,” was all she said, telling him nothing more.
His irritation soared higher, mixing with the anger seething inside him. Rather than waste his time on her vague answers, he concentrated on the oar he held in his hand. Together, he and Leo dipped, pulled, then dipped and pulled again, the soft sound in the otherwise silent night gradually soothing his foul temper.
At least he was well-rid of that damned collar, Drake thought, and the man who wielded a whip.
CAILIN STUDIED THE CLEAR night sky and set her course according to the stars twinkling in their constellations. She noted the irony of navigating by Draco, the Dragon. Every so often, her gaze traveled to the two men who rowed in perfect, silent unison.
Drake, this Dragon, was tall. Not as tall as Gunnar, but still a formidable size. His shoulders were broad, muscled, his strenuous movements causing them to bunch beneath his tunic. His hair was the same color as the rich ermine fur of her best cloak, left behind now, just as her life and home was. She remembered the color of his eyes, bright against his sun-bronzed skin, like molten gold. Cailin shivered, pulling her cloak closer about her shoulders. She had never seen such an exotic color in a man’s eyes before.
She wondered what made Drake come with her. Why would he do such a thing despite his obvious suspicion and scorn? Did he too feel this strange, unexplainable bond between them? Did he understand at all what she meant when she spoke of the Dragons?
Cailin shook her head. She was being silly, foolish as he had said. Perhaps he only agreed to help her to get her away from Hedeby so he might kill her and steal her coins. Or worse. Yet, despite this thought, Cailin didn’t feel any fear.
Fearlessness might be her only real weapon against such a man. A show of blind faith and trust sometimes made men want to live up to such attributes. Was Drake Talorcan that kind of man?
Somehow, she sensed he was.
“WHERE IS SHE?”
Gunnar wanted to shake Hulda. His head ached, throbbing as if Thor’s hammer, Mjollnir, was striking it again and again. Instead, Gunnar worked his fist, clenching it with each beat of his heart felt in his temple.
He changed tactics, turning his rage into a plea. “Hulda, I must know where Cailin has gone. How can I help her if I don’t know where she is?”
Hulda did not seem to take to his way of thinking. She stayed stubbornly silent. He tried another approach. “If she’s gone off alone into the wilderness, she’ll die. You and I both know it. Do you want her to die?”
“Of course not,” Hulda snapped, sounding indignant at such a suggestion. “I love that child as if she were my own. You know that, Gunnar.”
“Then tell me where to find her.”
“I cannot.”
“You mean you will not,” he roared, slamming his fist on the table, his last shred of patience gone with the old woman. Yet, he curbed the desire to strike her. She was a prophetess, a reader of the runes. Hulda was a respected and revered woman in Hedeby, and he feared her magick. To harm her might bring the wrath of Freyja upon him, even worse than the curse of Odhinn that already blackened his heart.
“I do not know where my dear dottir has gone. I know only that she would not stay and marry you, Gunnar. You should not have treated her so, and you deserve that bump on your thick head for trying to force her to your furs.”
“Be careful,” Gunnar warned. “I’ll not let you speak to me that way.”
Hulda drew herself up to her full height, though in comparison, she looked feeble and small in his shadow. But anger lent her courage. “The House of Thorvald is closed to you. Get out and never return. If you dare darken this doorstep again, I shall bring the wrath of She Who Shines Over the Sea upon you.”
Gunnar felt the threat down to his bones. He said nothing more but slammed out of the house. He would find Cailin without the old hag’s help. How far could she get, alone? When he did find her, she’d have hell to pay for what she did to him.
He hadn’t let Thorvald’s obstinate refusal for his daughter’s hand stand in his way. Nor would Cailin’s refusal or flight change his plan. Yet, he knew she was right about one thing. She would never become his wife, not willingly. But, that mattered not. Cailin was his and nothing, nor anyone, would keep him from her.
Chapter Six
THE NIGHT WAS DARK, black as onyx. No moon graced the sky to light their way. Cailin depended on the ancient constellations to find her way across the open sea, where water met the horizon, indistinguishable now in the night. The small light they carried aboard the boat seemed slight in so vast an expanse.
“Do you think she knows where she’s going?”
Leo spoke to Drake in Gaelic, his worry clear in his hushed tone. Cailin remained silent, allowing them their doubts.
Drake didn’t miss a stroke. “I hope so, cousin. If not, we’re liable to become fish food.”
“Perhaps you should offer to take the steering oar?”
“No,” Drake continued rowing in time with Leo. “It’s her boat.”
This did not ease Leo’s worry and he gazed out into the abyss that surrounded them. He sniffed. “Smells like rain,” he said.
“Yes, a storm’s blowing in.”
Leo nearly lost his oar in the water when Cailin spoke in Gaelic. Startled and leery, he looked at her, but said nothing more.
“You’re right,” she continued in Gaelic, the surprise on Leo’s face nearly making her laugh. “You’ve a ken for the sea. Or your nose does.”
Leo’s familiar smile returned. “Where did you learn Gaelic?” he asked, curiosity distracting him from his shock.
“I speak many languages thanks to working in trade. And,” she added some comforting words, “I have been sailing these waters for many years.”
“In storms?”
“Sometimes,” she concluded with confidence.
“What if you lose the stars?”
“Then I must find another way to stay on course, Leo.” Cailin tried to keep her voice from revealing any anxiety.
Looking thoughtful, Leo went back to his rowing. Drake suddenly spoke again.
“What trouble are you in … Cailin?” Drake used her name for the first time. His voice was deep, soft, caressing, yet she sensed the underlying hint of danger it held. It made her uneasy.
“Thorvald — my father — did not return from Miklagard. I was told he was murdered.”
“Constantinople?” Leo piped up, a strange look crossing his face. Even by lantern light, she saw his fear and wondered at the cause.
She nodded. “We call it Miklagard, the Great City. That’s where he disappeared, so that’s where I must go and start searching.”
“You don’t believe he is dead?” Drake asked.
It sounded more a statement than a question. Cailin was uncertain how much she should say. “No,” she confessed. “I am going there to find him. My decision made someone very unhappy.”
The two men exchanged a look, one that made Cailin wary.
“Why us?” Drake demanded.
She hesitated. “My great aunt is too old, and I trusted no one else in Hedeby.”
“Yet you trust a couple of Pictish slaves.”
“Traveling companions.”
His bark of laughter was scorn-filled. “Pretty words do not dress up the truth, woman.”
Drake’s statement was blunt, challenging. She did not have the energy to argue with him. “All right. Thralls until I can find another option, yes.”
“What if we decide not to be your slaves or ‘traveling companions’ any longer?”
“Then I must find another option, quickly.”
“What if our decision involves pitching you overboard?”
“Drake!” Leo protested. He seemed embarrassed by his cousin’s threat.
Drake did not seem to care. “Why should we help you?”
After a long silence, she shrugged. “A fair question
. I can’t give you any good reason why you should. It’s dangerous. It would be wisest to go your own way as soon as we reach shore.”
“Damn it, woman,” Drake’s voice echoed across the expanse of water as his rowing increased in pace with his mood. “Is that your game? To ply us with guilt for casting off our collars?”
“Think what you will of me, I hold you to no obligation. Once we are ashore, you are free to do as you wish.”
Leo punched Drake in the arm, drawing his angry gaze. “Damn it, Drake. Why do you have to be so bloody belligerent? After all, she was the one who patched up your back.”
Oddly, Cailin spoke up in his defense. “He must have his reasons, Leo, and he is entitled to them.”
“There’s no good reason for being rude and hurtful.” Leo did not back down, despite Drake’s scowl. “I, for one, would be honored to help you find your father.”
It appeared his commitment stunned Cailin, touched her. For some reason, that bothered Drake. The feeling was too close to jealousy for comfort.
“I appreciate your offer, Leo, more than I can express.” She paused as if to search for the right words, to speak whatever words lay in her heart. “I don’t know your story, but I can see the two of you have endured great hardship. You’ve managed to stay together through it all. I’ll not be the cause of your separation now.”
Drake couldn’t believe what he heard. He stopped rowing. Leo was willing to stay with this woman, a total stranger, to risk his life for her cause. It was beyond comprehension. Or sanity.
Despite his inner turmoil, Drake said, “You must do what you feel is right, Leo. I’ll not hold it against you, whatever your choice.”
Leo’s face fell. Drake understood his cousin’s goal. He wanted Drake to join him in his noble quest, to win a woman’s favor with his support. He thought he’d coax Drake into joining them. Not this time, not this woman.
“We shouldn’t waste time gabbing. The storm’s closing in,” Drake ordered, taking up his oar again. “Best put your back into it or we’ll never reach the shore in our lifetime.”