No matter his abilities. No matter Magnus’s power in Orkney. No matter that the old gods were still respected in many places. This was a Christian land now, and powers such as his, unexplained and inconceivable to many, created fear and suspicion. Few who were not bound by oath to Magnus were permitted to observe Gavin’s ritual. Most outsiders who heard of him thought him to be a master of negotiations, an accomplished bargainer who could bring opposing sides of an argument or claim to agreement and who could help the earl avoid leaving important and personal disputes to the very public and very unpredictable Thing.
Though stories were spun and rumors escaped, none but those who witnessed it ever knew the real method of the Truthsayer. Unfortunately for him, not even the Truthsayer himself understood exactly what happened. All he knew was the call of the full moon each month drew forth his ability to hear the truth in men’s minds. Whether they wished it or not, the Truthsayer found the truth.
Gavin walked to the windows in his sleeping chamber and stared out at the bay. A few more days and he would lose more of himself. Would there come a time when there was nothing left? Each month, he noticed that his heartbeat slowed, nearly stopping when the ritual finished. Would it stop altogether one day?
Haakon entered with a cup of wine, and Gavin drank it down, holding the empty cup out for more. Though the twitching of Haakon’s left eyebrow was the only indication of censure, Gavin could tell the man disapproved of his constant and increasing reliance on strong drink. It mattered not to Gavin, for whatever could ease the pain was what he would use until he could discover how to battle this affliction. Another cup appeared before him, and Gavin took it from Haakon without a word.
As he tried to concentrate on keeping the clamor at bay, he could hear Haakon in the other room, most likely unpacking his garments and readying the room for his evening meal. Gavin would eat here alone rather than join the others at their dinner. The sheer numbers of people in the hall would overwhelm him.
His rooms faced the water, with a balcony that extended over the edge of it, and were located away from the hall where everyone gathered and separate from the rest of the household.
At the worst of times, the sound of the water, crashing on the sands or against the rocky foundation of the building, eased Gavin’s pain. That was why he liked the cave so much, for between the rushing of the river from the land side and the crashing of the waves from the seaside, there was so much noise surrounding him that the voices in his head faded into one blur.
“Sir?” Haakon said quietly. Gavin faced him. “Your supper will be here soon. Would you like me to invite…” The words faded off for there was no need to finish them.
The craving rose in his blood then. He had ignored it for as long as he could. His cock hardened in anticipation, ready to find its place deep within the heat of a woman. His skin itched and ached with the need to plow the softness between a woman’s legs and make her scream out in release as he reached his. Tempted to reach down and ease the ache, Gavin nodded at his servant, knowing that the scent of his lust was already spreading through the household. In very little time…
The knock startled him, though it shouldn’t have.
Haakon crossed the chamber and opened the door a bit, peering into the corridor and speaking quietly to someone there. Gavin’s hands fisted and released as the scent of his arousal washed over him, filling the room. When the servant stepped back, he allowed a young woman to enter. Stupidly, some small part of his heart hoped to see his blond angel. Instead, a very different sort of woman stood there, her eyes glazed over from the scent his body exuded. Shorter by inches than his angel, with black hair and a thin, lithe body, this woman enticed him anyway.
Haakon looked at him, waiting for the word to dismiss her or to allow her to stay, and Gavin nodded his permission. With the ritual so near, his body wanted release, and this woman, one who’d warmed his bed before, had been very pleasing. He was certain she would be once more. He held his hand out to her and watched as she walked toward him, loosening the ties of her gown at her neck as she did.
Thora was her name and she was a slave here in Magnus’s household. His mouth watered as he remembered the talents she had displayed in bedsport. Haakon disappeared without a word, trained well to do so when privacy was needed. She tugged her gown down and dropped it on the floor, barely pausing to step out of it. When she stood but an arm’s length from him, she stopped and smiled. Sliding her hands up her naked body, touching and caressing her thighs and then the black curls between her legs, she reached up and cupped her breasts, lifting them as though an offering to him.
“How may I serve the earl’s truthsayer?” she asked in a voice roughened by pure sexual desire. When she raised her gaze to his, it was empty. Only a blurry glow of color remained there; her will was now his to command.
Gavin hesitated for a moment, sending out his thoughts to try to hear the sounds of her awakened body, but it was for naught. The clamoring still tore through him, but he could hear nothing distinct or different from her. The touch of her hand on his chest brought him back from his thoughts.
“I would pleasure you, if you would allow it,” she said, not waiting for his permission at all.
Her deft hand lifted his tunic and slipped inside his trews. Then the other one followed until soon he was fully engorged in her hands as she massaged the length of him. Gavin could not help himself in that moment. The pleasure exploded within his body and he leaned his head back and felt it course through him.
Maybe he would feel the same as he had with his dream woman. Maybe Thora could ease the ache within him and quiet the storm of noise that yet filled his mind. Maybe…
It was only hours later, after feverishly and desperately pursuing the same kind of satisfaction he’d found just days before and not finding it with the experienced and pleasing Thora, that he realized how empty his life had become.
And Gavin worried that his life—if he survived the coming ritual—would only get worse.
Chapter Four
Katla pulled the cloak down to cover most of her face and tried to mingle in with those entering the earl’s house. The guard at the gate recognized her, allowing her to pass because he knew—as did they all—she now belonged to Harald Erlendson. Her presence was not so remarkable that he would pass the news on to Harald, so she might be able to avoid being found until she’d gotten in to see the Truthsayer.
She passed by many whom she knew, moving swiftly into the yard outside the main building and looking for a way inside. For three days she’d sought entrance without finding one. The Truthsayer was in seclusion, the gossips said. None were allowed to see or speak to him but his servant…and the women who saw to his needs.
Her body trembled as she thought about his needs and the way she’d responded in his embrace. Heat flushed into her cheeks, and her skin tingled as an ache pulsed deep inside her belly. Seeing to his needs would be no difficult thing at all, she thought as she fought to regain her composure. Had Sven’s daughter fallen so low so quickly? Was it the whorish blood of her mother racing through her veins now, heating with just the thought of having a man’s cock within her?
She wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and searched for an unguarded door or gate. Finally, luck was with her, and she noticed one of the guards leaving his place to help a woman from the kitchens carry her burden to the midden heap. From the looks exchanged by the two as they passed her hiding place in the alcove near the door, they would not be returning soon from their task.
Katla used the guard’s inattention to sneak inside the kitchen and through to the part of the house where the Truthsayer was lodged. There, she found a place to hide within one of the storage closets. When she noticed the growing darkness, she crept into the corridor and sought the hall where the guests would gather to hear his words. Using the shadows of evening to hide her movements, Katla followed close behind some others and made her way into the large chamber. Once inside, she discovered a place
near the back corner where she could observe without being obvious.
This chamber was new. It had not been here the last time her father brought her to the earl’s house for a feast. Plain yet elegant, the walls were not covered by the usual tapestries or decorated panels but remained unmarked. The only furniture in the room was a sturdy, throne-like chair that sat on a raised platform so that the occupant could see all those standing before him.
The man who would occupy that chair stood off to one side, alone, not conversing with the others. His gaze did not meet anyone’s; he only stared at the back wall as he waited. When Brusi the Lawspeaker called out his name, he circled the chair several times before climbing the three steps to sit in it. Katla sensed a great and terrible vulnerability in him and fought the irrational urge to run to his side, to protect him somehow from what was going to happen. Just as he sat down in the chair, their gazes met for a scant second and she feared he would expose her, but a change occurred within him so quickly, she thought another had traded places with him.
His eyes began to sparkle, and even from the back of the chamber she could see their color change to something that glowed like the flashes of light during a storm. Not one color but many, rippling and pulsing as all watched. Then his face took on the look of a much younger, more unworldly man. But it was when he spoke that she was certain Gavin was no longer present and someone, or something, else sat in his place.
“Who seeks the truth?” he called out.
The voice echoed out across the chamber and it caused shivers to creep down her spine. Though she could hear something familiar in its tones, the sound of it now seemed to carry the voices of several at one time. She shook and noticed others in the room did the same.
“I do,” said a man near the front. Katla stifled a gasp as her father’s brother stepped closer to the Truthsayer. “I am Olaf Rognvaldson and loyal in the service of the earl.”
She’d not seen her uncle since before her father’s death and had not heard a word from him since. He should have been her father’s staunchest supporter and yet no accusation tainted his name. Why did he stand asking for the truth to be spoken? The Truthsayer held out his hand and motioned Olaf to approach. When her uncle had climbed the first step, they clasped hands and her uncle gasped several times before standing motionless and silent.
The scene before her was nothing like what she’d expected. The two men remained without moving for several minutes until Brusi walked closer and spoke again.
“Who are you?” he asked. She noticed he did not touch either man as he asked, his attention focused now on the Truthsayer and not on her uncle at all.
“I am Olaf Rognvaldson,” her uncle said once more.
“I am Olaf Rognvaldson,” the Truthsayer repeated in that eerie voice that did not belong to the man she knew.
“I am Olaf Rognvaldson,” they said in unison as their voices merged and melded into something frightening.
Murmurs spread through the small crowd as they realized they were witnessing an extraordinary phenomenon. Strange that not one person who’d seen the ritual had ever revealed the truth of it to her. But then, how would she ever describe the sight and sound of it to someone not present without seeming insane or possessed by some unholy demon?
“Have you sworn allegiance to Earl Magnus?” the lawspeaker asked.
“I am sworn to Magnus Einarson,” the men answered in their melded voice.
“Do you keep your word of honor, Olaf Rognvaldson?”
“Aye. My word is my bond,” the voice answered.
Katla shook then, unable to watch without reacting to the power that seethed and surged before her. Brusi looked at Harald before continuing his questions, and Harald whispered something to him. The old man called out again.
“Did you play a part in your brother’s treason?” he asked.
Katla wanted to scream out and declare her father’s innocence, but she was now among enemies. And she needed to fulfill her father’s last command to save her brother. She bit her tongue to keep the words in her mouth and waited to learn more.
“Nay,” they answered as one. “I knew not of his plans.”
Covering her mouth with her hand, Katla trembled and shook. His words would seem to confirm the worst about her father, but yet there was some room for another truth. And he’d said nothing of her brother or his role. Surely, Kali was too young to have been drawn in to any dangerous plot?
She watched as Harald whispered some other words to Brusi, who repeated the question to the Truthsayer.
“Can you be trusted to control the lands and goods and slaves of Sven Rognvaldson in the name of the earl?”
She shook her head at the question. Her uncle would gain everything her father had fought and worked for in his life. How could Olaf be so disloyal to his own brother? Thinking back, Katla knew the answer—for his own gain and to increase his own wealth and status. The man would swear and promise to anyone if he stood to gain from such a declaration. And, oh, he would gain so much in this matter.
“I can.”
Two words shattered her hopes. Two words took everything in her world and placed it in the hands of this nithing, who would step over nephews and nieces to take all. Two words robbed her of any hope she could prove her brother’s innocence, for her uncle had made it clear he would be his brother’s heir.
“Is that the truth?” the lawspeaker asked. Katla held her breath, praying for something that she knew would not happen.
“The truth has been spoken,” they said together. Then, the Truthsayer released her uncle and said once more in that unnatural voice, “The truth has been spoken.”
The tension that held those in the room captive began to ease as the Truthsayer began to change back into the man Gavin. Her uncle stepped down but remained at the front of the room as though waiting for something else. The lawspeaker called out in a loud voice to those watching.
“Earl Magnus is satisfied with the oath of Olaf Rognvaldson and bestows on him all of the lands and goods and slaves forfeited by Sven the Traitorous at his rightful death.”
“Nay!”
The word was out of her mouth before she could think, and it drew the attention of everyone in the room to her. She stood tall then and called it out once more. Someone must challenge this terrible injustice. “Nay!”
The crowd parted before her, and she watched Harald’s shocked reaction as she strode quickly to the front. The perfect person to prove her brother’s innocence still sat motionless on his chair, and she would demand that he help her now. She had nothing to bargain with, but surely a demand for true justice before so many men of honor would not go ignored.
“Call my brother, Harald. Let the Truthsayer speak his truth.”
The only one who could help was changing before her eyes from Truthsayer to man, and her heart sank as she realized she’d missed her chance. “I beg you to hurry! There is not much time.”
Chaos erupted in the room as those watching the ritual recognized her and her uncle demanded she be taken away. Harald grabbed her by the arm and tried to pull her out of the chamber, but she dug her heels in and struggled against his superior strength. A single voice stopped everything. Still part otherworldly but growing more human, it caused everyone to turn toward the Truthsayer. The wild glow faded from his eyes, and the countenance became familiar once more.
“She is mine,” Gavin called out.
“Truthsayer,” her uncle interrupted. “Katla is the daughter and the sister of traitors and should be put to death like them.”
“She is mine,” he repeated louder. “Harald,” he began, but his words faltered as he seemed to lose his balance. “Bring her to me in three days.”
Stunned by his words and even more when Harald nodded, Katla gave in. Harald dragged her from the chamber, calling out orders to the earl’s men to clear the chamber. When he thrust her into the arms of two strong warriors, she had no choice but to go. She tried to see what had happened to the Truthsayer, but t
he men dragged her down the corridor and out of the building before she could.
Now, she needed someone to save not only her brother but herself, and she knew there was no one who would intervene on her behalf.
She was real!
A frigid chill began to seep into Gavin’s flesh, and he fell back into the chair from which he’d tried to rise. Haakon cleared the chamber quickly, and Gavin could do little more than watch as the witnesses were herded into the next room to be instructed on what they were and were not permitted to say about the ritual. In just minutes, he sat in the empty and silent chamber, waiting for the worst of the aftereffects to happen. His stomach clenched as the first wave of utter, devastating pain shot through his ears and encircled his head.
Not even his attempts to focus on the woman, the real woman, helped him then. A burning unlike the heat of any flame began deep within his ears, filling his head. Gavin covered his ears with his hands and tried not to moan against the pain. Others were still in the corridor, and he wished no one to hear or see the full extent of the effects. But soon, his efforts failed and he fell to the floor, writhing in torment as the heat burned and burned.
His lungs refused to draw breath and he felt the beat of his heart slow. Just as he thought it would stop altogether, it beat once more…and then again…and again, until he knew it would not cease.
The pain of the thoughts that invaded his mind was nothing compared to this weakness. He fell in and out of consciousness from the intensity, unable to bear it or fight it. Minutes or hours passed, he knew not which, for pain was the only constant. Over and over it returned to its highest level and then ebbed to something less.
A Storm of Pleasure Page 4