By love enslaved

by Conn, Phoebe

  Berit found her mother's comments not even faintly interesting since she had already chosen a husband for herself. She sat without interrupting, though, appearing to be seriously considering each name suggested, but ail the while she was counting the hours until she would see Erik again.

  Erik arrived home in such high spirits he didn't think it odd Brendan was sitting idle in the pasture where the two-year-olds grazed. Certain the Celt was observing tfiem for a purpose, he walked out to talk with him.

  Brendan saw Erik coming and hurriedly got to his feet. There was still no sign of Dana, so he knew the man hadn't come to punish him, but he was apprehensive all the same. As Erik drew near, he saw by his ready grin that he was in too fine a mood to berate the farm's lone thrall. On anodier day he would have called out and asked what good new* he had, but now he held his tongue.

  "Has Dana been gone long?" Erik asked when he reached Brendan's side.

  Hoping to discuss horses, Brendan had trouble finding his voice. **Lx)nger than usual, but she hasn't Been riding for a while." In truth, Brendan didn't understand where the redhead was when he had expected her to waste no time in coming after him.

  Erik frowned impatiently. "J need to talk with her as soon

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  as she returns. Watch for her and send her over to my house." He turned then to look at the three fillies and two colts grazing nearby. "What do you think of this lot? Do they look promising to you? Thora has nearly outgrown Rascal, and I thought perhaps one of the fillies might make her a good mount."

  Brendan had worked with the two-year-olds before that day, and so he was able to offer an intelligent conmient despite his muddled thinking. "They are all very gentle, which is surprising for foals allowed so much freedom."

  "Haakon makes pets of them all. They are handled from the day they are bom so they aren't man shy."

  Brendan tried to concentrate as Erik described his father's techniques for training horses, which surprisingly didn't sound all that different from his own. His mind kept wandering, however, and his glance continually swept tiie path that led to the woods to watch for Dana's return. He even toyed with the idea of relating his side of their argument in hopes of winning Erik's sympathy, but he already knew Erik would take his half sister's side against a slave any day and didn't waste his breath in such a futile effort.

  Despite his ebullient mood, Erik couldn't help but note Brendan's distress. It was so unlike the Celt to fidget nervously that he finally had to conmient on it. "What's wrong, Brendan?" There was a faint bruise on the slave's chin as a result of their fight the previous night, but he didn't think the man was harboring any hard feelings over it.

  Brendan turned to face Erik, as dismayed as he had been by Dana's request that he confide in her. They were not friends, regardless of the fact they shared a smaU house, and he couldn't find the words to describe his latest confrontation with Dana. "I saw a slave beaten to death once," he blurted out instead. "I don't believe the man actually meant to do it. He was just so angry he couldn't stop whipping him until it was too late."

  Erik stared at Brendan's pained expression, then nodded sympathetically for it was plain the Celt was greatly disturbed by the memory. "Was this the same man who

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  whipped you?" When Brendan replied with a distracted nod, he continued, *'He was not a Dane, I hope."

  "No, a Norseman," Brendan heard himself say.

  Erik spit in the dirt. *'Well, what can you expect then?" He followed his unhappy companion's glance, and was delighted to see his half sister approaching. "There's Dana at last." He turned away, his perplexing conversation with Brendan forgotten as he hurried across the verdant pasture to meet her.

  While he knew he would be expected to take care of Dawn's Kiss, Brendan remained where he stood. With his heart in his throat he watched Dana ride into the yard, where Erik ran to meet her. He swung her down from her saddle, and the two stood with their heads together, conversing with an excitement Brendan could readily discern. While he couldn't tell what they were discussing at that distance, he knew Dana had to be describing the disrespectful way he had treated her, and tiny rivulets of sweat began to trickle down his back.

  He was no coward, but he knew she was going to hurt him badly. As hot-tempered as she was, she might even leave him crippled. She had threatened to whip him herself, and being beaten by a woman was a humiliation he had never before had to suffer. He knew he could have taken it had Grena used a whip on him, but not Dana.

  Overcome with dread, he looked up at the cloudless sky and repeated the same prayer he had said every night for the last three years, "Please, God, give me the strength to survive long enough to get back home."

  When he looked back at the couple in whose hands his fate lay, he was shocked to find them gone. Dawn's Kiss stood at the end of the stable where Dana always left her, but her flame-haired mistress was nowhere in sight. She had gone for the whip—he just knew it—while Erik was probably fetching a rope to bind his hands to a tree.

  Brendan took a deep breath and held it. He had lived through one nightmare after another, but nothing to compare with this. "Let Erik do it," he prayed aloud. "Just let Erik be the one to do it. He won't kill me, and Dana surely will."

  CHAPTER X

  When Erik ran out to greet Dana, she was relieved to find him so eager to talk that he failed to note that her mood upon returning home had been a very somber one. He insisted she come to his house, where they would not be interrupted, and grateful for a distraction to help her forget her latest clash with Brendan, she went prepared to give him her full attention.

  Once Dana was comfortably seated and provided with a tankard of ale, Erik found it difficult to begin. Finally he chose to confide only as much of the truth as te dared reveal.

  "I want Bent for my wife, Dana. I know it*s preposterous, so you needn't tell me that, but she loves me too and is more than willing to become my bride."

  Astonished, Dana stared at the half brother she held so dear, unable to provide any sort of a response to his announcement for a long moment. "Preposterous" was not nearly strong enough a term to describe what he had suggested, but she would not insult him by quibbling over his choice of words. Instead, she took a fortifying breath and let it out slowly.

  **Does Grena have any idea of your intentions?"

  *'No, not yet. I wanted to talk with you and Freya before going to her."

  Relieved by that, Dana took a sip of ale, and then another, but the refreshing beverage failed to soothe away her initial dismay. **You know what she's going to say: that she didn't raise Berit to live in a falconer's hovel."

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  Erik cast an anxious glance around his one-room home. ''Are you calling this a hovel?"

  "No, of course not. It's a very comfortable house, but I doubt you have the space to store Berit's clothes, much less her other possessions." Seeing Erik's stricken expression, Dana reached out to catch his hand and pulled him down by her side.

  **A11 I mean is that Grena will have a lengthy list of reasons why you are an unsuitable mate for her daughter. We'll have to anticipate them so we can counter them forcefully. Had you planned to begin clearing land for your own farm?"

  "Well, no, I'd not thought that far ahead, but—"

  "You simply must, Erik." Relishing the prospect of tackling so difficult a problem which would require weeks if not months of diligent effort to solve, Dana threw herself into the planning with an enthusiasm that amazed her half brother.

  "There will also be the problem of gathering the money for Berit's bride-price. I know you're well paid and thrifty, but do you have enough saved to satisfy Grena and set up housekeeping as well?"

  Erik shook his head. "I haven't nearly enough, but Freya has offered to help with a loan. You know Grena's main objection to me will not be one of money, though."

  Dana set her tankard aside so she could grasp both of Erik's hands in hers. "You are a fine man, Erik,
and you know none of us will allow her to insult you."

  "That's exactly what I'm afraid of, that this will turn into a battle that will leave Grena not speaking to any of us, and your dear mother sick, as a result. If I could think of-any way to save Freya what will surely be a wretched fight with her sister, I'd gladly do it."

  Dana felt a momentary twinge of shame that she had not considered her mother's feelings before he had mentioned them. "Let's not tell my mother yet. Why don't you begin clearing land and building your house first? Brendan complained to me only this morning that he's growing bored, so he ought to enjoy felling trees. Soren is always asking to be treated like a grown man so there's no reason why he

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  can't be put to work. There's time before the fall harvest for the field hands to work for you, too."

  "And how am I to pay them?" Erik inquired with a knowing grin.

  "You won't have to, we're already paying them and they'll woric wherever we tell them to."

  "I had hoped that you'd help me, Dana, but I hadn't dreamed you would be so willing." The warmth of Erik's gratitude shone brightly in his earnest glance.

  "But I love you. How could you have thought I'd be otherwise?" Dana and Erik had always found it easy to exchange affection and she went into his arms to give him a loving hug. "Don't you think my idea is the best? That you ought to have some land cleared, and a house built before you announce you want Berit for your wife? You will have a home and a means to support her then, and that will counter two of Grena's most serious objections."

  Erik shook his head ruefully. "I always thought I was practical, but you've seen things so much more clearly than I. I wish I had spoken with you before I talked to Berit, because now it's going to be very difficult for her to wait."

  "You are an exceedingly practical man, Erik, but no one in love ever thinks clearly, do they?"

  "I guess not," the dark-haired young man admitted sheepishly. "Do you have a suggestion for what I might tell Freya to explain my sudden desire to start my own farm?"

  Giving his request careful consideration, Dana licked h^ lips thoughtfully before replying. "You're twenty-two. That's certainly old enough for a man to begin thinking about tte future. It's only natural that you would want a farm of your own so that you'll be able to support a family. If my mother has already oflfered a loan, you must have discussed marriage with her, so I doubt she'll be all that surprised."

  When Erik recalled that particular conversation with Freya, he was disconcerted to think how recently marriage had been an extremely remote possibility. That made what he and Berit wanted to do seem hasty and ill-advised, but he knew in his heart that fate had meant them to be husband and wife.

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  "You're wrong. She'll be completely surprised, and especially so when she hears it's Berit I plan to wed."

  Wliile Dana feared he was right, she didn't want him to worry about her mother when surely it was Grena who would present the greatest obstacle to his plans. *'It may take her awhile to accept the idea, but she loves you as dearly as I do, and she's sure to give you her support. It's too late to go out riding again today, but at supper this evening you can tell everyone you've decided to clear land for a farm of your own. Then tomorrow we can take Thora and Soren with us and decide just where it ought to be."

  Elated by their discussion, because it allowed her to focus on problems other than her own, Dana left Erik's house knowing that while they had many a difficult challenge ahead, she would do all in her power to assure him the happiness he deserved. With a wistful sigh, she hoped one day the same blissful happiness would find her as well.

  Brendan spent one of the most wretchedly miserable afternoons of his life waiting for Dana to come for him. When she had not appeared by nightfall, he began to fear she was waiting until her younger brother and sister had gone to bed to spare them what he was certain would be a horribly gruesome scene.

  He sat alone in Erik's house, valiantly attempting to gather the courage to withstand whatever lay ahead, and when Moira appeared with his usual ample supper tray, he seized the opportunity to find out all he could from her.

  "Stay with me awhile," he invited in Gaelic, but his grin was shaky.

  Moira handed him his supper, but she kept her gaze demurely focused on the tray. "No, I mustn't tarry, or I'll be missed."

  She had replied in their native tongue, but her accent sounded peculiar to Brendan until he realized she had probably had scant opportunity to practice their language if she had spent her whole life among Danes. Feeling like a condenmed man, he had no appetite and set the wooden tray aside.

  When he turned back to face Moira, he recalled she was

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  such a shy young woman that he had never actually seen her face clearly. Her hair was a rich chestnut brown that fell loose over her shoulders, partly concealing her features like a carelessly worn veil. Curious, he reached out to tilt her chin up so he could get a good look at her face.

  To his surprise, Brendan found Moira's blue eyes quite attractive. Her nose was a trifle long and her mouth a bit too wide, but he thought if she had a livelier personality and smil^ often, those slight flaws would go unnoticed. She was no more than five feet tall and seemed almost childlike compared to Dana, who stood even with his shoulder. He stopped himself then from any further comparison between maid and mistress, for Moira excited not the slightest bit of desire within him, while a mere glimpse of Dana from afar set his blood aflame.

  "You're a pretty girl, Moira. You ought to tie your hair back so men can see that," he began in an inviting tone.

  The quiet maid's eyes widened in alarm, for no one had ever said she was pretty. That so well-built and handsome a man as Brendan might think so unnerved her completely. "Thank you," she finally managed to mumble.

  "As Freya's maid, you must overfiear most of the conversations in the main house," he continued smoothly.

  Moira nodded, far too awed by him to respond more freely.

  "What are they talking about tonight? Have you heard them mention me?"

  Brendan's smile was so warm, his charm easily overcame Moira's reticence to speak. "No, Erik wants to clear land and build a house. They have been talking about that for hours."

  Mystified by that revelation, Brendan found it impossible to believe. "Dana hasn't said anything about me? Are you certain?"

  "She never talks about you," Moira insisted, not realizing how insulting her remaric sounded. "Now I must go."

  Brendan made no eflfort to detain the petite maid when her comments had made no sense at all to him. Why would Erik want to build another house when there was nothing wrong with the one he had? As for tending a farm, he had thought

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  Erik was only interested in raising falcons. And what of Dana? he wondered impatiently. He had expected her to be far too angry with him to want to discuss anything other than tearing him limb from limb. As always, he found the actions of the Danes on Haakon's farm impossible to comprehend.

  The tantalizing aroma wafting from the bowl of stew on his supper tray captured his attention, and he sat down and began to eat. It would be impossible to keep up his strength without food, and he still feared he would need every last bit of stamina he possessed.

  When Erik returned to his house for the night, he was still smiling happily. He hummed softly to himself as he undressed and fell asleep promptly, leaving Brendan to wonder how long he would have to wait for the punishment Dana was sure to inflict. She was so high-strung he had not realized she possessed the patience to make him wait for a whipping. He had not thought her so cruel as to make him suffer the torment of a long wait, but now he had proof that she most definitely was.

  As Dana dressed in shades of cream and beige the next morning, she realized with a pang of conscience that the approach she had advised Erik to take was a devious rather than a straightforward one, but she soon shook off any sense of guilt. She told hers
elf there was a vast difference between facing problems squarely and barging headlong into trouble totally unprepared. She was merely trying to help Erik overcome Grena's objections to him.

  When they were ready to begin their explorations, Erik helped Dana mount Dawn's Kiss. Brendan was standing outside the stable and gave Thora a boost to Rascal's back, but Dana took care not to even glance in his direction for it would have been far too painful. Forcing herself to think only of her half brother's future, she rode through the gate displaying the easy confidence she always showed on horseback. Brendan had disrupted enough of her summer, and she was determined to see he did not do so ever again.

  The preoccupied Celt stood with his hands on his hips, his glance dark as he watched the small riding party depart. The last time this foursome had gone riding together, he had

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  been invited to go along, and he wasn't pleased at being left behind that day. He looked up at the sky, hoping to sight dark rain clouds that would soon drench them all, but the sky was clear and the gentle breeze free of the scent of rain.

  How he was supposed to attend to his chores when he knew he had a whipping coming he didn't know. Dana couldn't have forgotten about punishing him. Was she merely too busy to bother with him now? After her ride, would the thought of watching him bleed be more appealing to her? Hearing his name, he wheeled around to find Freya and Moira walking his way. Not wanting his expression to give away the hopelessness of his mood, he forced himself to smile, but was only partly successful.