by Phoebe Conn
Knowing she had pleased Mylan as greatly as she had hoped to, Celiese laid her head upon his chest, content to listen to the wildly thundering beat of his heart until it grew steady once more. His fingers moved slowly through her tangled curls, sharing the bliss with her still, and she was filled with the same marvelous peace he enjoyed and had no desire ever to leave his warm embrace. She wanted to make the night last forever, extending each precious moment to the fullest so her memories would all be sweet when they parted.
Still astonished by Celiese's lavish display of affection, Mylan hesitated to inquire as to its cause. He had no desire to provoke her, which he knew was all too easy a feat, for her temperament was a tumultuous blend of passion and fury he had never been able successfully to predict, but he could imagine no more splendid female creature ever having been born, and he remained silent until his need for her overpowered his reason once again.
Moving with exaggerated care, he pulled her lissome body against the length of his own. His injuries were no more than dull aches now, the sharpness of their pain blurred by the enchantment of her marvelous affection. She had moved over him with the fluid grace of the most entrancing of dancers, her every motion giving so rich a pleasure that he longed to repay her sensual gifts with a magic of his own. His lips caressed the soft curve of her throat and he felt the silver chain he had given her and smiled, for the charm had brought them both good luck that night.
He lingered at the hollow of her shoulder before seeking the flushed pink tip of her breast. Savoring the sweetness of her silken skin, he drew her near, turning her tenderly in his arms so he might run his fingertips down her spine. His touch was deliberate, yet honey-smooth, as his hands slid over her hips, drawing her closer still. She came to him readily, a perfect mate whose willowy body seemed designed solely to pleasure his, but again he moved with such loving devotion he made their union last until he felt the heat of her body's response and knew the depth of her hunger for him had been satisfied.
He lost himself then in his own sparkling dreams of her. Swift and sure, his power still tender, he let his own need build to a rapturous release, and, hearing the softness of Celiese's contented sigh, he drifted back to sleep with her cradled in his arms. He was not altogether certain he had ever been awake, for making love had never been more splendid, and he would not have been surprised to discover it had all been simply a magnificent dream.
While Celiese lay sleeping peacefully in his arms, Mylan was awakened by the distinctively metallic sound of steel scraping against stone. Someone had just walked by his door and had carelessly let his weapon strike the wall. Instantly alert to possible danger, he sat up, easing the delicate beauty from his arms before he left his bed and went to the door. Opening it no more than a crack, he waited, and, again hearing the sound that had shattered his dreams, he grew more bold and peered out into the corridor to discover what was amiss.
Two men stood at Celiese's door and while he was certain one was his father he could not make out the identity of the other until he heard him speak. He recognized the man instantly then, and knowing Jens would have no good purpose visiting Celiese at that hour, he stepped out into the shadows and pressed his body against the wall, moving close enough to overhear the rest of their conversation.
Aldred's voice was stern even at a whisper, and he insisted forcefully, "You must slip into her room without making another sound, or you will awaken the entire household! Shove the gag into her mouth so she cannot cry out as you tie her hands and feet, then carry her from my house as swiftly as you can. I will not question what you choose to do with her, but the night is coming to an end, and you must be on your way before this abduction is discovered."
"I am no fool!" Jens responded with a hostile sneer. "My brothers are already on board our ship, and we will take Celiese without mishap. Now let us cease talking and I will finish the deed."
Mylan watched as Jens entered Celiese's room with stealth a cat would envy, but he was inside only briefly before realizing her small chamber was empty. Gesturing angrily as he returned to the corridor, he accused Aldred of some further piece of treachery, but the older man took him firmly by the arm and led him down the hall toward the stairs so they might discuss this unexpected predicament without fear of arousing those who still slept.
Mylan stepped back into his room, closed the door silently, and threw the bolt. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears he could scarcely hear his own thoughts. Never had he ever thought his father capable of stooping to such an evil plot as the one he had just discovered. Seeking to create harmony between two warring families was a noble quest, but not when it was accomplished at the cost of an innocent's life, and he would not forgive the man for betraying Celiese to further his own goals. Furious, he tried to catch his breath, but the thought that she had escaped being kidnapped and murdered by so narrow a margin appalled him and he could not force himself to affect a calm he did not feel.
Forcing himself to think clearly to devise the most devious plan for eluding her pursuers, he could not help but contemplate what Celiese's fate would have been had she not come to him that night. He remembered his grandfather's funeral vividly. A handsome man, his posture had still been proud despite his years. After his death, his body had been burned with that of his favorite female slave. She was a young woman whom Mylan recalled fondly, for she had often looked after him when his mother was busy with his twin brothers. On the day of the funeral the attractive slave had been brought to the spot on the beach where his grandfather's ship had been towed and surrounded with firewood. His body was already on board, inside a tent so none might see what transpired before the pyre was lit.
A curious child, he had watched the pretty young woman drink deeply, dulling her senses with the intoxicating beverage she had been given. She had sung a song, a soft, sweet ballad that had touched him even then with its sadness. After telling her friends good-bye, she had been led into the tent, but his mother had taken him away then, not wanting him to witness what was to come. But he had pestered an uncle to tell him the truth, and the man had explained that his grandfather's sons had all lain with the woman. Next the old woman known as the Angel of Death, the same one who had prepared his grandfather's body for the funeral, had entered the tent. She had placed a rope around the slave's neck and given the ends to two men to pull, strangling her so she could not cry out as the Angel plunged a dagger into her heart. To a child the ritual murder had seemed strange and awful, but now as a grown man he was thoroughly sickened by the memory of what had taken place that day.
A beautiful young woman had been sacrificed along with horses and cows to serve a dead man, and he was certain now that she must have been Christian, as was Celiese. Her place in paradise would therefore have been far different than that occupied by his grandfather's spirit, so what had been the purpose of such a senseless death? None; and he was ashamed to think that on more than one occasion he had threatened Celiese with such a ceremonial slaughter. He shuddered as though chilled. Her death would have served no useful purpose whatsoever, and he swallowed hard to force back the nausea filling his throat as he realized what a gruesome fate awaited her should she fall into the hands of the Torgvalds.
They were brutal butchers, all of them. They would send Celiese to her death at Oluf's funeral after raping her so often she would welcome the Angel's blade, and he was so outraged at his father's duplicity that it was all he could do not to take up his sword and challenge him as he would any other man bent on harming Celiese. Had she been afraid, perhaps terrified that she would be given to the Torgvalds at dawn and had come to seek his protection? She was clever, perhaps she had seen what he had not and knew her hours in his home were numbered. He had been warned now too, though, and if it had been protection she had sought she would have it.
Dressing hastily, Mylan stopped to gather extra clothing, which he quickly shoved into a suede bag before he went to the bed to awaken Celiese. He shook her shoulder as he spoke. "You must come with me no
w, Celiese, there is no time to lose!"
Since she had had no more than the briefest of rests, she yawned sleepily, not understanding Mylan's words until he repeated them. "Where are we going with such haste at this hour?" she asked in a puzzled tone.
"To France; we will sail with the rising sun. Now get up, for there is no point in my leaving without you." Still frightened for her safety, Mylan coaxed her out of the bed and tossed her the shift he had found upon the floor. "Get dressed, we must go!"
Celiese had never seen Mylan in so anxious a mood and reached out to catch his hand. "What is wrong, tell me first so I will know what danger to expect." She sat down on the bed, ready to listen.
"There is no time to discuss it now. We must gather your clothing and enlist my brothers' help. Put on that shift or I shall drag you down the hall naked!"
Her green eyes widening at the harshness of his tone, she nonetheless rose from his bed and slipped the short linen garment over her head. She shook out her curls to keep them away from her eyes, and then walked to his side. "I did not realize you wished to sail with the morning tide or I would have packed what few belongings I have last night."
His emotions still in turmoil, Mylan could do no more than frown as he reached for her hand. "Do not ever remove that silver charm, Celiese, for surely Thor saved your life tonight, and his emblem should be regarded as your greatest treasure."
Surprised by his serious comment, she replied truthfully, "I prize it because it was a gift from you. Thor has no reason to protect me, but what danger existed tonight when I lay in your arms?"
Mylan took the gleaming sword that was never far from his side, and after opening his door he looked up and down the hall to be certain Jens and his brothers were not lurking nearby. When he saw the way was clear he replied distractedly, "That I will not reveal, but whether it was your passion for me or Thor's intervention that saved you we needn't debate. Now, how much do you have to bring?" Leading her the short distance to her room he ushered her inside and lit the oil lamp by her bed. He waited impatiently, looking about the room for what she might think necessary.
"I have little once I am dressed." Celiese picked up the gown she had removed several hours earlier and explained, "Olgrethe has always lent me her clothing, will there be time for me to borrow something more and bid her farewell?"
"No more than a moment." Mylan paced nervously, too preoccupied to notice how lovely Celiese looked as she dressed. Her cheeks were filled with a delicate blush and her eyes sparkled with excitement as she gave him her full attention when he spoke. "The ship Hagen and Andrick command is a knarr, a merchant vessel, as is mine. Since theirs is ready to sail and mine is not, I will simply make them a trade. I should have returned long before they wish to set sail in the spring, so that they will again have their own vessel when next they wish to trade goods."
"Yes, I understand. I have my cloak, but I would like to have an extra dress and another pair of slippers. I will speak with Olgrethe about that while you talk with Andrick." Ready to leave, Celiese preceded him to the door, but he put out his hand to stop her and looked out again to see if the corridor was unoccupied.
"Mylan, this is your own house, but you act as though we were trespassing," she said, puzzled.
"Just stay behind me, Celiese, my caution is not foolish no matter what you might think. Now the way is clear, and we must go." He took her hand again as they walked to the quarters Andrick shared with his bride, At the door he knocked softly, and his brother soon came to see who might wish to see him at that early hour.
"I have little time, Andrick, you must lend me your ship and permit Olgrethe to give Celiese a few articles of clothing. We are leaving for her homeland now and have no time to search for apparel to supplement her wardrobe," Mylan told his brother urgently.
Andrick wore no more than a towel knotted low upon his hips. Having been awakened from his dreams, he was clearly astonished by both of Mylan's requests." You may have the ship, of course, and anything Olgrethe can spare, but is this not a peculiar time to depart?" He yawned loudly then, and rubbed his hand over his eyes to keep them open.
"I will explain when I return. Please keep Celiese here with you while I talk to Hagen." Giving her a stern glance, he insisted, "Do not leave these rooms, Celiese, for it is far too dangerous for you to be walking about the house without me."
He was so serious in his demand that for once Celiese did not question his motives, but nodded agreeably. "I will wait here, you needn't worry I will wander off and become lost."
"See that you don't!" With that spirited parting remark Mylan left them alone and walking with a long stride disappeared down the hall in the direction of Hagen's room.
Embarrassed to have disturbed Andrick, Celiese apologized as best she could. "Mylan seems determined to depart swiftly; I am sorry that I cannot provide a lucid explanation as to why, but he did not give one to me." She held her few belongings wrapped in a silk scarf and feared she presented so pathetic a picture Andrick would simply pity her rather than being curious about her unexpected appearance in his rooms.
Andrick had spent little time with Celiese, but he knew his wife valued her friendship greatly and offered to awaken her. "Olgrethe did not spend the best of nights, but she will want to get up to help you find whatever you need. Please wait here while I call her, for I don't want to face Mylan in the mood he is in if he should return in a moment and find you gone."
Seeing his teasing smile, Celiese reached up to kiss his cheek lightly. "Thank you, Andrick. Olgrethe is fortunate to have so understanding a husband as you."
"Rather than Mylan, you mean?" the handsome man teased playfully.
"No, that wasn't what I meant at all!" she denied, her face flooding with color, her embarrassment acute. "Will none of you ever forget Raktor's deception? Am I never to be forgiven for his misdeeds?"
Andrick watched the sudden rush of tears fill her eyes and realized his joke had been in very poor taste. "I am sorry, all I meant was that Olgrethe and I are a far better match than she and Mylan would have been. I did not even think that remark would insult you, and I am sorry that it did."
She turned away, ashamed she had been so ill tempered when Andrick had been so nice to her. "I do not think you should tease me about something so important as marriage, nor Olgrethe either, as she might as easily misunderstand as I did."
Perplexed to have caused such a disastrous scene when he had only meant to make her smile, he apologized again, hoping he would be able to soothe the distracted young woman's feelings, when he had hurt her unintentionally. He heard his wife approaching he grew silent, not wanting her to know he had insulted her friend, but she could tell by his sheepish expression that something was wrong.
Awakened by the sounds of their voices, Olgrethe walked slowly into the room. She was dressed in a robe of yellow silk, her eyes red and swollen from the tears she had shed for her brother. "Why, Andrick, were you and Celiese fighting? Has the entire house gone mad?"
Andrick went quickly to her side, and gave Olgrethe a reassuring hug. "Of course not, beloved, we were merely talking, and I was just coming to wake you. Mylan and Celiese are leaving, she wanted to bid you farewell, that is all we were discussing." Looking over her head at Celiese, he was pleased to see she understood the cause of that lie and would not dispute him.
"You are leaving me now?" Olgrethe's already pained expression grew even more woebegone as she pleaded, "Oh, Celiese, how can you leave me now?"
Mylan slipped through the door in time to respond to that question. "If she is not gone before sunrise your grief will be compounded tenfold, Olgrethe. Do not try and influence her to stay, for such a choice is impossible." Mylan leaned back against the door to catch his breath; he had run all the way back from Hagen's room and felt dizzy, his strength impaired by pain.
"Mylan?" Celiese regarded him closely; surprised she had not noticed the deep purple bruise marring the lid of his left eye. It looked very painful, but she would not call a
ttention to it when she knew how little he enjoyed sympathy. "Is everything all right? What did Hagen say?"
"Why didn't you tell me he had offered to take you home? He is not at all pleased I am to be the one to make the voyage."
He had a good point, for she had let Hagen believe she would go with him when she had not known what else to say. "The situation is a confusing one, I agree, but you and I have had no time to talk, Mylan, so there was really no opportunity for me to tell you of Hagen's plans."
His glance suspicious, Mylan continued, "Of course, you would have told me, and you are always so prompt to tell the truth that I never doubt your sincerity."
Not understanding why his brother was behaving so badly, Andrick was quick to send his wife from the room so he might question him. "Olgrethe, Celiese needs a gown or two, have you anything to offer?" Since he frequently teased her about the extensive size of her wardrobe, he was certain she did.
"Of course, you may take whatever you wish, Celiese. Come, let us look to see what we can find." Apparently resigned to losing her, Olgrethe led Celiese into her bedroom where her clothing was kept.
Waiting to be certain they could not be overheard, Andrick spoke in a low whisper. "What is wrong that you must flee with such haste? Do you expect the Torgvalds to give pursuit? Their warships are far more fleet than our knarrs, so it may be impossible to escape them."
Mylan closed his eyes as he sighed deeply. Never had he spent such an exciting night, and it was not yet over. "Our father made some sort of a bargain with Jens; he meant to hand over Celiese, and I think Jens must have promised his family would not attack us again to avenge Oluf's death."