by Phoebe Conn
He waited a long moment, considering the wisdom of her words thoughtfully. When he saw the first trace of tears glistening upon her long lashes he leaned over to kiss them away, all thought of anger instantly dissolved. "I don't expect you to accept my faith, all you need ever accept is this." He placed his fingertips under her chin to turn her face to his so he might kiss her lips tenderly, the reassurance in his touch as deep as that in his words.
Never able to resist his caress, she lifted her arms to encircle his neck, hugging him tightly as she welcomed his kiss. When at last he drew away, she was smiling. "I will wear it then, and think only of you."
"That is better." He hugged her in return, grateful she had given in to him so easily. It was not often he won her acceptance for any of his requests without a long and bitter argument, and he had not meant to begin a fight that night, only to give her something pretty. "Come with me, let us look at the stars for a moment." Taking her hand in his, he led the way through the door, then stepped behind Celiese and wrapped his arms around her waist to draw her near. "This day was nearly a perfect one, for the crops are thriving without our toil, and we discovered a very beautiful part of the forest I'd never seen."
Placing her hands over his, she relaxed against him. With her loving care and fine meals his lean physique had become more sturdy, but his muscular frame was still far from heavy. She found his warmth and nearness so reassuring she almost purred as she replied. "How can you fault any aspect of the day we spent? I think it was as perfect in all respects as any day will ever be."
There, she had done it again, chosen to argue rather than agree, but he did not complain of her willfulness. "There is one important thing lacking still, Celiese."
Frowning slightly, she turned to glance up at him. "If there is anything I've forgotten please tell me now, and I will see to it at once."
He did no more than return her steady gaze, holding her in a light but firm embrace so she would not escape his grasp for any reason. "It is you I want now, for only you will make this night as pleasant as the day."
An enchanting smile lit the young woman's features as she turned to tickle his ribs playfully. "Neither your day nor night is complete without my company? Is that what you're saying?"
Instantly growing wary, he realized he had said far more than he had meant to, and her teasing questions demanded the truthful response he was still unwilling to give. Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her into his house and dropped her in a careless heap upon his bed.
"I've lived too many years without your company to be dependent upon it now. Do not flatter yourself by pretending that I am. Sleep by yourself tonight and we will see just who is dependent upon whom." He started for the door without any idea of where he wished to go, but he was so intent upon teaching her a lesson he had not considered where he would spend the night.
Leaping off the bed, Celiese came after him. "Must you be such an unreasonable bully? If my words displease you, will you not tell me why? I did not mean to make you angry when we were so happy together."
Scowling impatiently, he stopped at the door. "Can you not remember it is your place to do my bidding and not mine to do yours?"
Color flooded the fair young woman's cheeks at that insult and she was suddenly as furious as he. "I am the worst of servants, it seems, but you must recall I was once your wife and forgive me when I treat you as my husband rather than my master."
"Do not ever make the mistake of reminding me again of our marriage, when we both know you never expected to live for even one day as my wife!"
Celiese stared at the open door, for he had simply vanished he had fled the house so quickly. There was no point in following him, for he knew the land so well the coming darkness would be no hindrance to him, while she was certain to fall and be injured or at the very least to become lost. She clutched the small silver hammer he had given her and began to pace distractedly beside the open doorway.
"Luck!" she shrieked in frustration, tempted to yank the fine chain from her neck and hurl it as well as the pagan charm out into the yard. How could the evening have ended in such a ridiculous way? Swearing at everything that caught her eye, she cursed at the top of her voice, knowing he was undoubtedly too far away to hear or criticize her language. Finally she noticed the hearth, which occupied the center of the small dwelling.
"Damn Vikings, if they are so clever why can they not build a house with a proper fireplace and chimney!" They had roasted the hen outdoors so as not to fill the house with smoke. Suddenly, as she considered the discomfort the smoke caused when she cooked indoors, she realized with a burst of insight that smoke could be a powerful weapon to use against a bear and felt foolish for not having thought of using it before that night. Nearly dancing with glee, her anger forgotten, she circled the room, then flopped down upon the large bed to consider the idea more fully.
Knowing the bitter scene that had prompted Mylan to flee her presence that night would be repeated endlessly until she won her freedom, she considered all her options calmly to devise a clever plan. According to Mylan, the bear roamed the woods near his cave during the day, and returned to it each night and remained there until dawn. If she were to approach his lair while he was sleeping soundly and lay a stack of green wood at the entrance, she could ignite it at sunrise. The beast would stagger from the cave, disoriented, blinded by the dense smoke, and she could kill him before he had a chance to escape or to do her any harm.
Glancing toward the weapons stored in the corner, she attempted to make the best possible choice. Her bow and arrows would inflict only insignificant wounds, enrage the bear and leave her in even more danger. She had thrown Mylan's spear only half a dozen times and had no confidence in using it as yet.
The axe was useful for chopping wood, but she would have to be far stronger to swing it with sufficient power to kill the beast with one blow, and she would have no second chance. She sat up, hugging her knees as she pondered what to do. The small silver hammer brushed her hand, and, thinking of Mylan, she glanced toward the carved chest holding his belongings and an additional alternative came to her mind.
His possessions included a magnificent sword, double-edged and sharp enough to slay a man with one blow. Could it also be used to kill a bear? She got up quickly, removed his clothing from the trunk and found the sword where she had first seen it. It was heavy, difficult for her to hold. But there was a rocky ledge above the bear's cave, and if she were to wait there for the animal to appear and strike him in the neck she just might be able to kill him before he had a chance to kill her. She would have to leave at dawn, make her way to the other side of the forest, and gather wood near the bear's cave. When she was certain he was asleep, she would make the preparations for the fire, light it at dawn, then climb up upon the ledge. It was possible the plan would work as she imagined it would, but if it did not, she would at least have the satisfaction of knowing she had died fighting rather than spent what remained of her life as a captive.
The whole idea terrified her, and yet it was her only chance to gain her freedom. She would have to kill the bear or die trying, and she had simply no other choice. She would leave at dawn, make her way to the bear's territory, and pray he had had many fine meals that summer and would not be tracking her scent while she planned his death. She would go in the morning, and if she were successful then the next time she saw Mylan she would be free and he could no longer call her a slave nor reject the love she wanted so desperately to offer as only a wife could. Her problems solved for the moment, she prepared for bed, knowing she would need strength as well as cunning. She fell asleep promptly, letting the rest she needed wash the fatigue from her body as well as her mind.
* * *
When his temper cooled Mylan retraced his steps. If anyone were to sleep under the stars that night it should be Celiese, and he vowed that if she was still angry with him when he returned home he would simply turn her out and sleep alone in his own bed—which was what he should have done in the f
irst place. Finding the door unbarred, he entered the house cautiously, but Celiese was sound asleep, curled up upon his bed with a contented smile, as though her dreams were most entertaining. He was badly disappointed to find their argument had affected her so slightly. She had simply gone to bed as if nothing were amiss, and it annoyed him tremendously to think she had given so little thought to his comfort that if he had stayed away all night it would not have troubled her sleep.
The night was warm, and Celiese lay uncovered upon the furs, her pose a most attractive one. Mylan found his anger quickly replaced with desire. He was swift to cast off his own clothing, then bent over her, letting his lips slide down her spine to trail light kisses over her moist skin as he joined her upon the bed. Thinking the curve of her slender hip equally inviting, he caressed her lightly, teasing her slowly awake with a tantalizing touch that was sweeter than any dream could ever be.
She snuggled against him, the few hours they had been apart forgotten as she pulled him into her arms. He gave her no opportunity to speak, but she would never have apologized for she was far too eager for his kiss to waste precious minutes continuing an argument that should never have taken place. Her plans already made, she wanted only to tell him good-bye with affection so lavish he would never forget her should she be unable to return to his arms.
Mylan wound his fingers in her silken curls, hoping to hold her fast, but although he had captured her lips with his own, her honey-smooth caress aroused his passions to an intensity he could scarcely endure. She moved beneath him then, her hands now encircling his waist to press down upon the small of his back, and he could no longer delay the pleasure he knew they would create. He thought of her as delicate despite her seductive ways, and moved with practiced gentleness to dominate her lissome body with the fierce strength of his own.
Agile and sure, he held her enfolded in his embrace, wanting now to conquer her more completely than he ever had. Their bodies joined in an ageless rhythm, the warm, sweet depths of her being welcoming each of his thrusts until the ecstasy she gave washed over him with the shattering power of a cresting wave. He was lost in her embrace. She covered his face with light kisses, and whispered the most flattering of endearments in his ear, but he could think of no words to describe his deepening need for her, when surely it was a weakness he should fight with all his strength rather than enjoy to the fullest as he always did.
Savoring the taste of her kiss, he ceased to worry over who had triumphed that night when she gave so generously of her love. This surrender was the only one he needed to make his life complete. Her beauty was superb, her capacity for giving pleasure limitless, and he regretted wasting so much of the evening walking the forest alone when the joy of being with her was all that made his life worth living.
Chapter 12
While Mylan fell into a deep, contented sleep, Celiese lay wide awake in his arms, sadly recalling the weeks she had spent in his home. If only he had just once spoken of love, or of how much he had come to care for her, she would have some cause to hope their future would be a bright one, but as always he had given unsparingly of his body without voicing a hint of the emotions filling his heart. Her choice had already been made before he had returned home that night, but his silence had sealed her fate as surely as she prayed his sword would seal that of the bear.
She left his bed as soon as the first light of dawn lit the small house with a soft golden glow, and she could see well enough to gather the things she required. She dressed quickly, and put on the silver necklace Mylan had given her, knowing she would need every manner of luck she could summon that day. She placed the flint he always carried into her pocket, slipped his dagger under her belt and took his sword from the chest where it had lain hidden.
She was ready to depart. Wishing there were some way to make the proud man realize how dearly she loved him, she hesitated. When she could tarry no longer she bent down to give him a light kiss upon the cheek and whispered softly, "Do not forget me, my darling, for I have loved you well."
Turning swiftly before her tears fell upon his face and awakened him, she hurried through the door and ran toward the stream just as she had the day she had fled the house fearing she would soon be sold to the rude pair who had come to visit. Her terror was every bit as real as it had been that day, for her situation was no less desperate. She had not understood Mylan's sullen silence then and still did not. His touch was always tender, his manner gentle, so why could he not return the love she gave to him with words? Was the fact she was a slave making him so reticent, or worse, the lingering resentment for the trap Raktor had set with their marriage? Would he never forgive her for Raktor's appalling plot? She continued to torment herself with unanswerable questions, wanting Mylan's love so desperately at the same time she feared she might not survive the day to see him again.
There were many trails through the forest, and since she had always had Mylan to lead the way when they had gone hunting she got lost more than once, circling past trees she recognized as landmarks again and again. But still she pushed on, hoping to find her way to the bear's cave before darkness fell. She had not thought it necessary to bring food, but now she was hungry and sorry she had been so foolish as to leave the house without provisions.
It was late afternoon when she finally sighted the uprooted tree where she had once taken shelter for the night. The bear's den was nearby, and she grew doubly cautious. Scanning the underbrush carefully, she found the trail Mylan had taken and made her way stealthily to the spot behind the trees where they had been able to see the cave. She stood perched on the balls of her feet, ready to run at the slightest provocation, but she heard no sounds other than the soft calling of the birds overhead in the trees.
The cave was exactly as she had remembered it, set back in the rocks of the hillside, and the ledge that hung over it looked both easy to climb and solid enough to support her slight weight. Seeing no sign of the bear, she approached the lair slowly, finding the animal's scent strong. He had been there the previous night, she was certain of it, and prayed he would return that night as well. Forcing herself to be brave, she scampered up the side of the hill to test the ledge, gauging the angle from which she would have to strike with the sword before climbing down with all possible haste.
Leaving the sword behind, she ran to the meadow where Mylan had shot the deer. Skirting the edge of the wide field, she gathered branches for the fire she would need, bundling the dry wood with green and carrying it back to the trees close to the bear's den. She was careful to select a spot downwind so as not to attract the bear's notice, and began practicing with the flint to be certain she could start a fire in the dim light of dawn. She had often watched Mylan build fires and understood the process, but she rehearsed it repeatedly, too anxious to leave such an important step to chance.
It was nearly dark when she heard the bear returning to his lair, his low growls sending shivers of fright up her spine, but she remained hidden among the trees and her presence went undetected. Huddled in the shadows she waited for the night to pass, blowing on her hands for warmth while she sang softly to herself to stay awake, but most often her mind was filled with thoughts of the handsome man who had won her heart. She gripped his charm tightly, the coolness of the silver reminding her all too vividly of the differences between them.
If she did not live to reach home, then she hoped he would remember the last night they had spent together as being as beautiful as all the others, for she knew if the bear were to attack her as savagely as he had mauled Mylan there would be nothing left of her for him to recognize, let alone remember. That gruesome prospect kept her wide awake until dawn lent a faint tint of rose to the eastern sky, and, after stretching to gain confidence that her tired muscles would not fail her, she carried the wood she had gathered to the entrance of the cave and placed it just inside. Her fingers shook badly as she struck the flint, but the dry wood caught fire instantly and in a moment ignited the green branches, which burned with billows of acrid smok
e. The morning breeze carried the evil-smelling fumes well into the dark recess in the hillside. She took the heavy sword and climbed up to the rocky ledge to await her prey.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears while the fire crackled and surrounded her with near blinding smoke. She feared she had outsmarted herself rather than the bear, but at last heard a low growl and then another. She braced herself carefully against the rocks, and when the enraged beast appeared at the mouth of the cave seeking relief from the dense smoke disturbing his slumber, she raised the sword. The sharp edge of the steel blade caught the beast on the side of the neck, slashing his dark fur, and a bright fountain of crimson blood spewed so high into the air it splashed her, dampening her soft suede clothing with gore.
Terrified, she shrieked more loudly than the wounded bear, but she held on to the shining weapon, ready to strike again. The bloodied animal staggered back into his smoke-filled lair and was quiet, leaving her no choice but to wait on the ledge as the sun rose. She dared not relax her pose when at any minute the beast might again come lumbering out into the open. He would now surely be able to sense her presence, the fire had died down to no more than a few wisps of smoke, and her scent would fill the air. She heard no sound at all from deep within the cave, but she still shook with the fright of her grisly deed.
Her mouth was dry, her breath coming in hoarse gasps, but she dared not leave the ledge until she was certain the bear was dead. When she had heard nothing by the time the sun was high overhead she was convinced he could not possibly have survived the vicious blow she had dealt him. She now focused upon a new problem, for even though she had slain the bear, Mylan had asked for proof, and she could not possibly skin the animal unless she were able to drag the carcass out into the sunshine so she would have room and light enough to work.