Love's Captive Heart (Author's Cut Edition)

by Phoebe Conn

  Aghast, Andrick shouted hoarsely, "That cannot be true!" He was appalled at such vile treachery and found it unthinkable. "It simply cannot be the truth, Mylan. Where did you hear of this bargain, from Jens himself?"

  Straightening up to his full height, Mylan was surprised to realize Andrick was now nearly his equal in size. He was still slightly taller and considered it an advantage when he wished to make a point. "I saw Father lead Jens to her room and instruct him to hurry with the abduction. Is that evidence enough for you?"

  "Does she know?" Andrick looked hurriedly toward the room where the two women had gone, fearing they might return in the middle of Mylan's explanation.

  "No." Mylan's expression gave no encouragement to that question. "She is not to know, either. It is a betrayal I cannot disclose, for she would hate us all for it."

  "Her love for you is painfully obvious. She saw nothing today but you. She would not hate you for our father's treachery." That Estrid had been on his brother's arm all day was not a subject he wished to mention, for he was certain Mylan had only used the attractive young woman to make Celiese jealous, and he thought such a trick incredibly foolish.

  Swearing under his breath, Mylan replied in a hostile whisper, "The woman loves me so dearly she refused to be my wife in front of more than a dozen witnesses! You heard her yourself, Andrick, she'll not have any of us for a husband."

  Laughing, Andrick reached out to touch Mylan's shoulder with a good-natured slap. "You have not courted the woman with anything other than neglect. How can you expect her to want you when you have given her no evidence of your love?"

  "I do not love her!" Mylan vowed hoarsely, incensed by his brother's teasing, but as he turned he saw Celiese and Olgrethe at the doorway, and, knowing they had overheard his bitter remark filled him with remorse. Believing his best option was simply to ignore the comment rather than attempt to explain it, he spoke quickly, "Have you all you need? The journey is a long one."

  Olgrethe had just finished reciting a nearly endless tale of woe. Her sorrow was deep at losing the company of her dearest friend when her brother had just died so tragically. If that had not depressed Celiese most thoroughly, here was Mylan vowing for all to hear that he did not love her. Trying to make the best of an extremely embarrassing situation, she came forward with a smooth, graceful stride.

  "Yes, Olgrethe has always been most generous, and I will never forget her." She kissed the young woman's cheek sweetly, and then gave Andrick a warm hug before carrying the things she had gathered through the door. She did not wait this time for Mylan to look for whatever danger he seemed to suspect awaited, for it mattered little to her what her fate might be if she did not have even the hope of winning his love. And from the fury of his denial, she knew she never would.

  As she slipped past him, Mylan turned to look at Andrick, knowing he should have prepared some more formal farewell when—if luck were not with him—they might never meet again. "You will be the eldest, if..."

  "I will be the eldest only after you die of old age, now go before Celiese takes command of our ship and leaves you behind." Andrick drew Olgrethe into his arms with a joyful hug, grateful he was not a great fool like his brother. Mylan was too proud by far, but he hoped his dear brother would lose neither his life nor his love on a voyage that was sure to be filled with adventure.

  Chapter 18

  Hagen met Celiese and Mylan on the path to the docks. He was out of breath and frowning apprehensively as he greeted them. "The Torgvalds have gone, but they were arguing so heatedly amongst themselves I do not see how they could give enough attention to sailing to reach their home."

  "Let us pray they do not, then," Celiese remarked softly, the bitterness of her comment surprising the two men.

  "We will not be rid of them so easily as a few rats we might toss into the sea, but should they sink from the weight of their own evil deeds, I shall not miss them." Hagen turned to join the attractive couple on their way to the beach, his stride long and sure. "Most of our crew was near enough to summon. I had spoken with them of the possibility of this voyage, but they had not expected it to begin so soon."

  Mylan cast Celiese a sidelong glance, but she did not seem embarrassed by Hagen's admission he had planned a voyage to France. That she would have sailed with his brother, simply gone away without once thinking of telling him they were making so dangerous a journey or bidding him farewell, pained him greatly. Apparently she lived entirely for herself, without ever considering how her actions affected others. Why he could never seem to remember how faithless she had been he did not know, but she knew how to bewitch him as no other woman ever had. He hurried her along the path, still anxious to depart before any further danger overtook them.

  "You found adequate provisions so quickly?" Mylan turned his attention from the distracting young woman at his side to concentrate on the details of the voyage.

  "I had not expected to spend the entire summer at home, and had gathered our stores," Hagen replied crossly. "We had other plans until Andrick found he could not bear to be away from his bride for more than half a day!"

  Rather than remark upon his brother's cynical view of marriage, Mylan kept still, apparently feeling the same way. Celiese envied Olgrethe greatly for having married a man with so devoted a nature as Andrick had proved to have. She turned back to look at the Vandahl home. She had been terrified when she had arrived to become Mylan's bride, and she felt no more confident now. The imposing stone structure was silhouetted against the rising sun. Although she could not see any of the inhabitants watching their departure, she was certain many were.

  "Did you forget something?" Mylan had noticed Celiese's pensive mood and backward glance and thought perhaps she had just recalled something important she had not thought to bring. He would not let her return for it, however, no matter what it was.

  "No, I've left nothing behind." She lifted her skirt carefully so as not to step upon the hem as she continued down the path. "I wish I had had the time to make another suit from one of yours, it would have been ever so much more practical than this gown will be for a voyage."

  "Your clothes are the least of our worries." Mylan chuckled at her comment, and then assured her he would not put her to work. "You will have no more to do than sit and enjoy the view. Your gowns will be adequate for such a relaxed pastime."

  Celiese smiled at his teasing. He had been so stern with her she was relieved to see his mood improving as the sky brightened with the light of the new day. As long as the view aboard his ship included him, she would be content. "I will be glad to assist with whatever duties there might be. I do not mind doing my share to make the voyage a smooth one."

  Mylan glanced over her head at Hagen and saw him wince. It would be a difficult voyage in all respects, but he doubted he would need to call upon a pretty young woman to help him complete it. "I will be content if you will but follow my orders, Celiese. It will be service enough for me."

  Her green eyes sparkling with the mischief she made no effort to hide. "As you wish, Captain." She moved aside as they reached the ship and the two brothers conferred with the crew. Unlike the Dragon, which Raktor was fond of sailing, this vessel was broader and deep enough to carry a sizable cargo or livestock in the center. That area was now rapidly filling, as about a dozen men tossed in the provisions they would require and their own belongings to keep the deck clear for working the large sail.

  A knarr was too heavy a craft to row, so there were no holes cut below the rail for oars. When Vikings went raiding, they preferred the slender warships that could navigate the shallowest river, while the sturdier knarr sailed the coastal trade routes Andrick and Hagen favored, or the long voyages of discovery Mylan loved to make.

  This knarr had a surprising beauty, however. Celiese had been so distraught on the voyage home from Kaupang that she had noticed little about the ship, but now it seemed most attractive to her. The graceful prow, as well as the stern, was decorated with intricate carving of an ornate swi
rling design, while the large white sail was trimmed with red to make a handsome diamond pattern. She thought the vessel a beauty and wondered if Mylan's was so sleek and impressive a ship.

  When Mylan was satisfied he had all he needed to complete a successful voyage, he went to where Celiese stood watching them prepare for departure. "It is time we left. Come, I will help you aboard." He extended his hand and she placed her small hand in his. She had very beautiful hands; he thought suddenly, her fingers long and slim, and so delicate that her slightest gesture was filled with grace. That once in France he might be able to discover her true identity intrigued him enormously, for her background provided no end of puzzlement to him. She was certainly not of peasant stock, but was she really a member of the French nobility? He was so curious he could scarcely wait to discover the truth, and he vowed to himself that he would not leave her homeland before he did.

  "What is the name of your brothers' ship, Mylan? It is very handsome and I have been wondering what it is called." Celiese smiled shyly, not daring to hope his more agreeable mood would last for the entire voyage.

  "This is the Surf Falcon, and while mine, the Raven of the Sea, is her twin, the two ships handle differently, and I wish I had not been so foolish as to let my own vessel go unattended." That he would not have his own ship to sail pained him greatly, for he knew the Raven as thoroughly as he knew himself and trusted her to do his bidding no matter how rough the weather. That he would have to push the Surf Falcon to its limits when he did not know it well presented another needless problem.

  "I have sailed aboard this vessel once, Mylan, and Andrick and Hagen seemed to make her fly. I am confident you can make her even more swift, if that is your desire." Celiese was sincere in her compliment, but she saw Mylan stiffen, ready to argue. Then Hagen came to his side, and Mylan did not speak whatever thought he had intended to impart.

  "I want to come with you." Hagen stood in a relaxed pose, not demanding or hostile, but determined in his request.

  Mylan looked back toward his home, hoping the flurry of activity upon the docks had not yet been noted.

  "There is no time for argument; you must stay behind. If I do not return, divide what is mine among you and Andrick with a smaller share for Erik. Andrick will then inherit our father's house, and my farm should go to you."

  Hagen backed away." I will not discuss the division of property while you are alive."

  Mylan spoke crossly, "I mean what I say, Hagen. I should return before winter, but if the summer comes again and I have not come home, you will know what is to be done with my possessions."

  "Your chance of survival will be more than doubled if I am with you," Hagen interjected hoarsely. He had expected to have to plead his cause and was ready, but he was not encouraged by the fierce gleam of Mylan's gaze. It was a glance he had learned to fear as a boy, and he had not meant to provoke the response ever again.

  "No." Mylan shook his head, his decision firm. "Busy yourself with refitting the Raven. If you still wish to ferry your farmers to Hrolf's land in the spring, then go. This voyage is mine alone to take."

  Scowling fiercely, Hagen wasted no more time arguing with his brother when he was in so obstinate a mood. Mylan had always been the leader, his commands obeyed, and he would not disregard this one now. "If you have not returned by the time I sail for France, I shall scout the entire country for you, and you better have a ready explanation for your failure to return."

  Mylan laughed at his brother's anger, but he knew what it was like to watch another sail and feel the pain of being left behind. It was a sorrow he had endured for two long years but could never bear again. "You will only have to visit Celiese, and I am certain she will be able to tell you what has become of me."

  Hagen turned toward the young woman he had wanted so badly and realized perhaps his cause was not thoroughly lost. "I will do that gladly. Where is your home so that I might find you?"

  Her golden tan paling noticeably, Celiese responded in a voice filled with unshed tears, her memories all unbearably sad. "My home is gone, destroyed, burned to the ground. There is nothing left for me except the land upon which it stood."

  Startled by the tragic tone of her response, Mylan spoke in a sympathetic tone, "Yes, that might be true, but surely whatever home you now establish will be in the same location. Where might that be? I will need this information too so that I may see you there safely."

  Celiese looked up at the two tall men. She knew them to be honest, but they were Vikings still, and she had no intention of leading them to her home. She was no traitor to her people and would not be used as such. "Mylan, if you take me as far as the mouth of the Seine I can find my own way home, and it would be far better for both of us if you did not try and find me next spring, Hagen."

  Mylan took a deep breath. He would not simply put Celiese ashore on French soil. He planned to see that she was left with a roof above her head and food for the winter, at the very least. "Is your home near the Seine, with a view of the sea, or was that just part of your story and not the truth?" He had not forgotten what she had confided on their wedding night and wondered if she remembered as well.

  Blushing, she nodded shyly, for she recalled exactly when she had told him about her home. "Both the Seine and the sea bordered my home. It was the truth." As was everything else she had ever told him, but she did not protest, when it would only serve to anger him once more.

  Growing more curious, Mylan persisted, "On which side of the Seine, near Bayeux or Rouen?"

  Appalled that he knew her homeland so well, she could not decide which would be worse, to lie or to tell the truth. Mylan's glance was so insistent, however, that she dared not lie. "Rouen is nearest my home. If you were to ask for me there, Hagen, someone would be able to give you directions to the home of the d'Loganvilles."

  "Rouen is that not where...?" Hagen's surprised question was interrupted by a hearty slap upon the back from Mylan, and he knew enough not to complete it.

  Laughing, Mylan gave his brother a warm hug and bid him good-bye. "We cannot stand upon the dock discussing geography all day. Come, Celiese, we must be gone, and if Hagen cares to seek you out in Rouen next spring he may do so."

  With a warning glance to his brother, Mylan led the slender beauty up the gangplank of the Surf Falcon and gave the order to cast off the lines securing the graceful ship to the dock. It was all done so quickly that neither Celiese nor Hagen had the opportunity to say good-bye.

  "Are your parents and Erik not coming to bid you farewell, Mylan?" Celiese thought his sudden haste extraordinary and wondered as to the cause, but figured as usual his motives would be beyond comprehension.

  Since his parents had no idea he was sailing, Mylan thought it unlikely they would appear. His father had forbidden the voyage, so he would certainly not come to offer advice and encouragement. As for his mother, he was uncertain what to think of the good woman. If she had known Celiese was to be kidnapped and had not warned her then he would not forgive her, either. No indeed, he had no desire to see either of his parents that morning, and Erik would probably not leave his bed before noon.

  "You heard my father last night, he wanted you gone. Do you really believe he would come to tell you good-bye?"

  She looked down, sorry now that she had asked about his family when their poor opinion of her had been so unhidden. Perhaps their dislike had prompted Mylan to hurry, but it was more likely he meant to spare himself trouble rather than out of any regard for her feelings. It would be a long voyage, and she did not wish to be in the way. She had enjoyed standing at Andrick's side as he held the tiller, but doubted Mylan would welcome such informality.

  "Where would you like me to stay?" she asked. "I do not want to interfere in any way with your work or that of your men."

  Mylan laughed out loud at that sweet offer. "It will be the first time you haven't!" When he saw by her expression that she was not amused, he softened his tone, but only slightly. "I have told the men to drape a tent over t
he stern so you will have some shade in which to rest. Sleep as long as you like. I will command the Falcon as best I can without your advice."

  Hurt by his scorn, she turned away and walked toward the rear of the ship, stopping to wave at Hagen as she passed by. He looked no more pleased than Mylan, and she wondered how a voyage begun with such haste and bitterness could possibly end well. She was going home again, however, and that prospect would have to sustain her. She found that not only had a tent been raised, but also fruit and bread had been left for her, as well as the softest of blankets. After eating a light breakfast, she was too tired to feel the hardness of the deck beneath her as she stretched out and, planning to rest only a moment, was soon sound asleep.

  The wind was strong and Mylan made swift time, not once looking back toward his home but constantly glancing over his shoulder to be certain no ships came in pursuit. He had taken the best of Hagen's crew, but knew if his father really wanted to he could find men among their houseguests to man a ship. That thought presented a painful possibility, for he did not want to fight any sort of battle against his own father, but the man had brought it upon himself by betraying Celiese so cruelly.

  As little as he relished the thought of facing his father, the Torgvalds presented a far more dangerous threat. They would need time to mourn Oluf, but once he had been laid to rest, what would their next thought be? Revenge, he thought without question, but would they attack his home or come after him when they found he had taken Celiese out of their reach? A warship could easily overtake a knarr, but he had the advantage still, for he had had a vessel ready to make a long voyage, and as far as he knew the Torgvalds did not. By the time they assembled their supplies and made ready to sail, he would be so far ahead they could not overtake him.