by Phoebe Conn
“I should leave you here to fend for yourself after what you’ve done to me.” He took a few steps away, then turned back. “Come, dear wife, I will help you stand, but if you cannot keep up with me I will leave you behind.” He reached down to lift her, but drew back when she cried out in pain.
“Just give me your hand, do not touch me again.” She bit her lip to stifle a sob.
“Here then!” He extended his right hand and waited as she took a deep breath and grasping his outstretched arm rose unsteadily to her feet. But she took no more than two halting steps before she fainted, collapsing in the wet sand at his feet.
Mylan lifted his gaze to the heavens to implore the aid of the gods, but he knew they would be uninterested in the fate of a slave, no matter how lovely she might be. He cursed his own luck that continued to run so swiftly to tragedy, and, scooping up the slender girl in his arms, he walked slowly down the beach in search of some shelter before the gathering clouds could again drench them to the skin with freezing rain.
*
The cave was small, no more than an indentation in the rocks, but they were protected from the chill of the cold wind as they huddled inside. Celiese was grateful Mylan had not left her, but thought it wise not to inquire into the reason for his kindness.
“You are the most worthless of slaves, more trouble than help!” He scowled angrily, his mood not improved by the good fortune of finding shelter.
“Am I no longer your wife?” He seemed to use the words slave and wife interchangeably, but she could not believe he regarded her as a servant when she lay so lovingly cradled in his warm embrace. His hands were light upon her arms, his touch gentle still.
“It was Olgrethe I thought I’d married, to seal a treaty Raktor had no intention of honoring. How could you have expected to be my wife when you knew it was unlikely I’d survive our wedding night?” he snarled impatiently, caring little for her reply.
She sighed softly, “There is no way for me to prove my innocence if you will not accept my word. Raktor himself will never tell you the truth, but I did not know what treacherous scheme was behind his desire to switch me for Olgrethe.”
He continued, his voice no less bitter, “Even had he meant to honor his promise to my father, would he have sent her?”
Celiese licked her lips slowly, considering how best to answer his question, and chose the truth. “He would have sent her, but I would have been the one who arrived. Olgrethe and I had already planned to trade places, for I wanted to come to you and she did not.”
He was astonished by her candor. “So you admit you are a liar, as capable of tricking me as Raktor was?”
Again she chose her words with care. “It was Olgrethe herself who first suggested we change places. She has found no man to be to her liking and was certain one who had not been seen in two years must have something truly horrible to hide. I thought only that I would be free if I married you. I have no hope of ever returning to my home, for all I loved are dead, and it would be pointless for me to return to live alone amid so many painful memories. I knew you would not be displeased with my appearance, and I hoped you would be kind, no matter how severely you’d been injured by the bear’s attack.”
“You are a slave, how could you have believed I would accept such a woman as my wife?” he scoffed at the ridiculousness of that notion.
She straightened her shoulders proudly as she argued. “It is not uncommon for a Viking to marry a former slave, but I am the one who has married beneath my station, Mylan, not you. Had Raktor not murdered my family and stolen me I would now be the bride of a prince, for my father would have accepted no less for me. He most certainly would never have given me to a pirate such as you.”
He laughed out loud, despite the severity of their situation. “Then we are both equally unhappy, for I want no slave for a bride and you want no pirate for a husband.” He shook his head and chuckled, “I am many things, but no pirate.”
“And I am no slave!” Celiese insisted defiantly, her clear, sweet voice ringing with the unmistakable knell of truth.
After a moment’s pause, he grew stern. “You would be wise to tell me the truth from now on, if you are even capable of it.”
She looked away, hurt again by his lack of sympathy, but she had lied to him when she had posed as Olgrethe, and she would not beg to be believed now.
Surprisingly, he tightened his embrace, shielding her body with his own as a fresh gust of wind swept into the small cave. “We will have to find better shelter tomorrow, and something to eat. We are already too weak to survive much longer without food and fresh water.”
Amazed his protective gesture and plans for survival seemed to include her, she smiled as she looked up at him. “Have you any idea where we might be? Are we on your side of the fjord, or Raktor’s?”
His curious glance swept her face slowly. “Where do you wish to be?”
She held his gaze. “I have no desire ever to return to Raktor’s home, although Olgrethe was always kind to me. You say you do not want me, and there is no way I can reach France. I am lost and alone no matter where I am, my future bleak no matter in which direction the storm has tossed us.”
He pointed to the mouth of the small cave. “The sun, when I could see it, was to our right, therefore we are on Raktor’s side, but how close we are to his home I cannot say. We may be far from his docks, or they may be just around the next bend. In the morning I will go out and see what I can find.”
His voice softened as he explained, “That is what I do best. I prefer exploring new lands to pillaging the known world.”
Encouraged by his tender tone as well as his words, she offered a plan. “We could steal one of Raktor’s ships. They are not all as large as the Dragon, and perhaps there is one we could sail back to your home.”
Mylan found her suggestion ludicrous. “I thought you were a lady’s maid, not a mariner. Do you even know how to sail, no matter what size the vessel?”
She blushed under his sarcastic teasing, but did not give in. “No, but I could help you. You could tell me what to do.”
“Why would you wish to help me?” he asked skeptically.
“I did not understand all the words of the ceremony yesterday, but is a Viking’s wife not expected to assist her husband in every way possible?”
“That ceremony was a farce. I’ve been tricked most cruelly, Celiese. I am not your husband; you are a slave, and I will sell you at my first opportunity. You will command a high price, and I mean to receive it, although that won’t begin to repay the wrong you’ve done me.”
“I will leave you now then, go back into the sea to drown, since I have no future worth living.” She attempted to rise, but he gripped her narrow waist firmly to pull her back down beside him.
That she was so spirited a creature continually amazed him, but he found her far too intriguing to lose in so foolish a fashion. He kissed her cheek lightly before his lips found hers, and when she returned his kiss with an affection he found impossible to resist he drew away, sighing sadly. “If only it could have been real, Celiese, why couldn’t you have really been my wife?”
Surprised by his suddenly subdued mood as well as by his unexpected kiss, she whispered softly, and then held her breath as his fingertips began to tease the tip of her breast. “I am really your wife. Why do you insist I am not when we found such perfect happiness together?” The damp folds of her tattered gown offered little barrier to his touch, and the thrill was the same, a rush of warmth that began in her loins and spread the length of her chilled limbs. She drew him into her arms, covered his face with sweet kisses as his hands slipped beneath her gown.
He knew her body well now, and his tantalizing caress grew bold until she was lost again upon the tide of his cresting passion. She clung to him, no longer fearing his strength, for he gave such delicious pleasure before taking his own that she would never cease to adore him. Her sweet affection enveloped him in love, flooding his senses with a pleasure so deep he could n
ot release her but kept her clasped in his embrace until the pale light of dawn entered their rocky confines, bringing the harsh reality of their plight into sharp focus. The magic of the night receded to become no more than a lovely memory.
Mylan kissed the ugly purple bruise marring the creamy skin of Celiese’s left side. “This is far worse than I had feared. Surely your ribs are cracked, and there is nothing I can do to help you here.” His tone was as tender as his kiss, smooth and warm, for he found her delicate body so delightful he did not want to see her come to any harm.
“The pain is not so intense today, a few broken ribs will not kill me.” She ran her fingertips through his thick curls to draw him near as he again caressed her breast in a lingering kiss. She longed to ask if he still meant to send her away, but could not bear to hear his reply. He filled her body so completely with his love, but had she still failed to move his heart? She held him tenderly in her arms and hoped he would speak of love, but he continued to savor her luscious curves without offering the slightest of compliments or promises, and when at last he drew away his mind was on far more practical matters.
“Here is your gown; there is little left of it, but put it on quickly.” He watched closely as she slipped on the pale garment, and then took her hands to lead her out through the entrance of the cave. “If I climb the bluff just ahead I may be able to see. I know my own coastline well, but not this one, although I hope to see something that will help me establish our location.”
“Be careful, the way is steep and you might fall,” she cautioned anxiously.
Her comment brought a disapproving frown to his brow. “I will not fall. If I am no longer as agile as a spider, my leg will still hold up for that short climb. Do not tire yourself with needless worry about me.”
“I had forgotten your injuries, I meant only for you to take care,” she replied softly. She found his height and strength so reassuring she had forgotten his scars covered injuries not fully healed.
Mylan turned away without speaking, then did indeed go up the rocky incline above them with the ease he had promised. But when he disappeared from view over the top she doubted he would take the trouble to come back for her. She could not climb unassisted, and as far as she could see the shore was littered with rocks, making the walk along even the level terrain treacherous. She was afraid she would have to remain where she was no matter where Mylan went. She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill. The sea had grown calm again, but how could they catch any fish with no implements? They had not even a knife to fashion a spear if they could find a piece of wood.
When Mylan reappeared he scrambled down the rocks and ran to her side, his gait uneven but swift. “Come with me. There is a guard nearbyâif you will distract him I can seize his sword.”
“Distract him?” She moved away from his grasp. “I can imagine how you wish me to accomplish that. What benefit will a sword be to us when Raktor sends a squad of twenty men to find the one who is missing?”
His amber eyes widened in astonishment. “The man let you plan his strategy for raids, did he? You are an expert on how to fight as well as making love? If you are so clever a warrior, why did you not kill me yourself when you had the chance?”
She shuddered at that gruesome query. “I am no expert on anything other than survival, but think, if we kill one man and steal his sword how have we gotten any closer to your home? All we will have done is alerted Raktor to our presence.”
Mylan sat down, folded his arms across his knees, and glared out at the sea. “Raktor has warriors aplenty, and I have but one beautiful woman who refuses to help me disarm a man so I might have a weapon.”
“I would seduce Raktor’s entire force if it would help you, but it would not. If he has guards posted he must be expecting some retaliation for the attack upon your home. I did not know the prisonersâwho did he take and who were left behind who might come to our rescue?” She knelt down beside her husband and waited patiently while he sat silently considering her question before replying.
“Two of my brothers are away, gone trading to Kaupang. My father was wounded, but how severely I do not know. You met Erik, at sixteen he is not half the man I was at his age. He enjoys playing the jester to amuse us more than anything else, but he may be able to command such a force of men if my father is able to give him assistance.”
“Will your brothers be home soon?” She pushed her hair away from her face, but the breeze tossed her curls carelessly about, blocking her vision once again.
“No, not for weeks. They were journeying north and may be delayed time and again before they return. They knew nothing of the plans for our wedding before they left and have no reason to return home quickly.”
Knowing time was their enemy, she hastened to warn him. “The Dragon was badly damaged by the storm. It is Raktor’s pride and he will make haste to repair it. That will mean activity on his docks, as he will lose no time in restoring his largest vessel to full use. The summer is nearly here, and he never remains at home. Surely this year will be no exception.”
Mylan glanced at the lovely young woman, his expression filled with frustration. “If you think of any more problems, Celiese, I shall simply strangle you myself and swim home.”
Ignoring his threat, she continued, “I meant only that we have no time to waste waiting for others to come for us. Perhaps we should break into the house tonight, free your kinsmen and murder all of Raktor’s sons in their beds. Would you prefer that plan?”
“How can I devise any sort of plan when I have only a traitor to help me?” he responded bitterly.
Shocked by his cruel insult, she stood and backed away. “Had Raktor raised his sword against you rather than his foot, I would still have blocked his way, and you see a traitor when you look at me? I am better off in the sea than married to a husband such as you!”
“I am not your husband!” The handsome man shouted defiantly, his light eyes blazing with a furious gleam as he denied her again.
Celiese turned and walked into the water. Her dress was wet clear past her knees when Mylan realized she would not turn back. He leapt to his feet and overtook her swiftly, sweeping her up into his arms. “Fool! I will not let you drown, not when you are the only help I have. Now come back and tell me how we might enter Raktor’s house undetected.”
She rested her head against his broad chest as he carried her ashore. When he placed her feet on the sand she did not move from his embrace but stayed close. “If you will help me up the bluff I will go to Raktor and tell him you drowned. Tonight when everyone is sleeping I will unlock the side door on the north and let you in. We can free your kinsmen and capture Raktor and his sons before they know the house has been entered. Your men are few, but we will have the advantage of surprise on our side and with Raktor taken prisoner his warriors will not fight. They are all cowards, without any spirit of their own.”
Mylan’s searched her delicate features slowly as she outlined her plan, but he could detect no trace of deceit in her expression. She seemed serious and determined, but still he was unsure. “You expect me to trust you after the wrong you’ve done me?”
“You shall have to trust me, for there is no one else here to help you.” She could understand his hesitation. None of her story made any sense, no matter how true it might be. She waited; hoping only that he felt for her the deepening affection she could not deny she felt for him.
“What shall we do with Olgrethe? Is she truly as beautiful as all say?”
Celiese did not let her disappointment show in her eyes, but his question brought real pain, an anguish as deep as any she had ever known. “Yes, and since you insist we are not married perhaps you will decide to take her as your wife. She will not disappoint you as I have.”
With a rueful laugh he drew her close to his heart and hugged her warmly. “Disappointment does not begin to describe my torment, but we have no time to discuss emotions. If we are going to attempt this deed we must begin without delay.”
&nbs
p; “Yes, that is true.” She stepped back from his arms and smiled bravely. “You will have to help me climb to the top of the bluff.”
“You are not frightened?” He took her arm as they moved across the sand.
“Yes, I am terrified, but I will not fail you,” she vowed confidently.
“Celiese.” Mylan spoke her name in a hoarse whisper as he drew her back into his arms. This time his passion was no longer tender, but violent as he crushed her slender body against his own. His deep kiss left her shaking in his embrace, her lips bruised by the savage force of his kiss. “You dare not fail me again, or I will see you join Raktor upon his funeral pyre. Should you choose to serve him again rather than me you will continue to serve him in Valhalla!”
She shook her head, a sly smile coming to her lips. The Danes comprised only one group of the men known as Vikings, but she found his beliefs as well as his threat ridiculous. “Your custom of sacrificing the living to serve the dead is foolish, for I am Christian and would not willingly join Raktor in anything, most especially not your battle-filled vision of eternity. If you have so little faith in me, kill me now and be done with it. It will save me the pain of climbing this steep embankment, at least.” Her defiant gaze dared him to end her life as he had threatened, but she stood calmly, her fear of him obviously slight.
Mylan’s fiery gaze did not soften, for no matter how much he admired her bravery, he could not trust her. “I will not destroy the only help I have, no matter how little faith I might have in you. Now let us cease this argument and hurry. We will have time enough to talk after I have captured Raktor.”
She did not speak again until she called to the man standing guard. Her voice startled him so badly he wheeled, sword drawn, ready to strike her down. Then he recognized her and ran forward. “We thought you had drowned. How have you survived?”