Twin Passions

by Miriam Minger

  She did not tear her eyes away until the longship had rounded the bend in the fjord, hiding the cluster of logged buildings from her view. She sighed, then squared her delicate shoulders. Nay, now was the time to look ahead to the future she and Hakon would share. She left Anora's side and sat down on a vacant rowing bench nearby, her hands absently smoothing the wrinkled pleats of her silken tunic. She smiled to herself when she realized what she was doing, then shrugged. For some reason she had not minded donning women's clothing that morning. Suddenly she chuckled.

  "What is so amusing, little one?" Hakon asked, walking up behind her. Gwendolyn started at the sound of his voice, her emerald eyes wide as she looked up at him. He laughed and sat down beside her. Now that the longship was well under way and the crew members were working hard at their oars, he could afford a free moment. He took her small hand in his own large one and brought it to his lips.

  Gwendolyn felt a thrill course through her body at his touch. He looked so handsome this morning with the bright sun glinting off his white-blond hair, the long, thick waves tied back with a leather thong. The snug-fitting, sleeveless tunic he was wearing was molded perfectly to his broad, sculpted chest. His bronzed arms were bared and rippling with muscles.

  She smiled and looked into his tender eyes. "I was only thinking 'tis my first time on this ship that I am not rowing with the others." She laughed gaily as he grimaced, though his eyes were full of mirth.

  "Aye, 'tis true, my love. But at least I know that if I lose a crewman, there is someone who can ably take his place!" he tossed out playfully. He brushed a quick kiss against her smiling lips, then stood up from the bench and strode over to the helm to speak with Olav.

  God's teeth, the very sight of him could take her breath away! she marveled. And to think she was to become his wife as soon as they reached Dublin! But suddenly her smile faded, a twinge of apprehension prickling at her mind. Nay, she shook her head defiantly. She would not allow herself to consider the possibility that all would not go well for them. She had to believe that Hakon's plan would work!

  She knew that he had informed Olav and his hand-picked crew during a secret meeting the night before of his plan to defy Haarek Jarl. He had decided it was only fair to give them a choice. They could either stay on in Norge and serve under his uncle, who would take over his settlement, or man his longship and help him carry out his plan, with full knowledge that any who followed him would also be branded as traitors. But down to the last crewman, they had all sworn to remain with their chieftain, fierce loyalty blazing in their eyes.

  Hakon had then seen to it that extra provisions were loaded onto the ship —food, fresh water, and most important, his own private hoard of gold and silver to use for trade. It had been done under the cover of darkness in the early hours of the morning so as not to alert any of the other warriors in the settlement to his plan. He had not rested until he was satisfied that all was securely loaded and in readiness for their departure later that morning, with enough supplies stocking the cargo well to see their way to Dublin . . . and even farther if need be.

  Only then had Hakon made his way back to his hall. Anora had subtly offered earlier that evening to sleep on a pallet in the main room, so he and Gwendolyn could share his chamber during their last night at the settlement. Gwendolyn had lain awake in the wide bed for what seemed like hours, waiting for him. But when at last he had walked into the room, they had both been so exhausted that they were content simply to lie in each other's arms until the morning dawned.

  Yet perhaps last night had been the sweetest of all their nights together, Gwendolyn thought warmly. Hakon had cradled her in his arms, softly stroking her silky hair and murmuring tender words of love, until she had been lulled into a deep sleep by the steady beating of his heart.

  A great flock of white sea birds suddenly startled Gwendolyn as they flew over the longship, their shrill cries breaking into her thoughts. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at them, watching as they soared high into the endless expanse of blue sky, then one by one dove back down to the surface of the fjord in search of fish for their morning meal. Some of the birds carried their wriggling catch to their nests along the rocky slopes towering above the fjord, where hungry mouths were waiting to be fed.

  Gwendolyn sighed. So much had changed since that first journey along the Sogn late last year. Yet it really did not seem so long ago that she had envied the soaring freedom of the sea birds. She shook her head, smiling. Nay, she did not have to envy them any longer.

  She looked over at Anora. Her beautiful sister was still leaning on the railing of the ship, breezes blowing through her shining hair. Her emerald eyes were dancing with excitement, her cheeks blushing rosily with exhilaration. No doubt Anora was thinking of Wulfgar, and their long-awaited reunion.

  Aye, so far their prayers had been answered, Gwendolyn thought gratefully. She smiled as she recalled Anora's expression of stunned surprise the day before, when she and Hakon had ridden together into the settlement on his spirited stallion. Her sister must have guessed at once the reason for the vibrant happiness in her eyes, for as soon as she had dismounted, Anora embraced her warmly. And after hearing about Hakon's plan, she had wholeheartedly agreed to give Gwendolyn's message to their father, assuring him that all was well and that it was her choice to stay with Hakon.

  Gwendolyn leaned back against the curved side of the longship and closed her eyes. She basked in the warmth of the golden rays of sunshine heating the wooden deck. The rhythmic sound of the oars slicing through the water and the gentle slapping of the waves against the hull were soothing. A wave of relaxed contentment washed over her.

  ***

  "Two warships off the port bow!"

  Gwendolyn's eyes flew open at the sound of Hakon's voice. She leaned forward, stretching her slim arms above her head. Surely they had not reached the mouth of the Sogn already, she thought dazedly. She jumped up and ran over to the railing, gasping in surprise. The vast ocean was stretched out before them, as far as the eye could see.

  Stunned, Gwendolyn realized she must have slept for several hours. She looked around her. Obviously Anora had decided to take a nap, too, for she could see her sister's leather slippers peeking out from the opening of the tent Hakon had erected for them near the cargo well. She ran over to the tent and tugged at one small foot.

  "Anora, wake up! We have reached the ocean!" she exclaimed excitedly.

  Anora sat up in the tent, yawning and rubbing her eyes sleepily. "The ocean?" she murmured, taking Gwendolyn's proffered hand as she was helped to her feet. "I must not have slept very well last night on that pallet, for when I saw you dozing off, I could not resist lying down myself."

  But Gwendolyn did not hear her sister's words. Her eyes were fixed on the two warships fast approaching them from the direction of a green stretch of land jutting out from the mouth of the fjord. She gazed at them, a tremor of fear coursing through her. Were these the two warships Hakon had spoken of, the ones they would attempt to outsail when they reached England? She had never seen anything like them before! They were huge vessels, both at least ninety feet long; they were wider and lower in the water than Hakon's longship. Yet they cut swiftly through the choppy waves, their purple sails billowing in the stiff breeze.

  Without thinking, Gwendolyn suddenly left Anora's side and hurried toward the dragon-headed prow of the ship, where Hakon stood. She quickly made her way along the narrow aisle between the rowing benches with practiced ease, nimbly dodging the coiled ropes lying here and there on the deck.

  "My lord, are those Haarek Jarl's warships?" she called out breathlessly.

  Hakon whirled around and looked down at her with surprise. His startling blue eyes narrowed angrily. He had been so engrossed in watching the ships that he had not heard her walk up behind him.

  "Go back to your sister, Gwendolyn, and get inside the tent until I tell you both to come out. Now go, at once! Haarek Jarl's men must not see us standing here together!" he
said tersely. His grim expression boded no resistance. "Go!"

  Stunned and hurt by his tone, Gwendolyn nonetheless realized the folly of her rash action. She turned on her heel and quickly made her way back along the aisle, avoiding the disapproving glances from Hakon's men. Grabbing her sister's arm, she pulled her back into the tent. Anora opened her mouth to protest at this rough treatment, but Gwendolyn silenced her with a finger raised to her lips.

  "Shh! Anora, be still! Hakon bade us to wait inside the tent," Gwendolyn whispered, her heart beating fast. God's blood! If she had ruined the plan . . . She shook her tousled head fiercely. Nay, she would not even think of it!

  Suddenly a man's gruff voice could be heard shouting out something to Hakon from one of the warships. Gwendolyn lifted up the leather flap covering the entrance so they could hear better. "Listen!" she hissed. "They must be right off the port side!"

  Gwendolyn leaned out just a little from the tent so she could catch the man's words. "He says his name is Thorolf Skallgrimsson . . . and that he has been charged by Haarek Jarl to accompany Hakon's longship to England." She leaned forward again, listening. "It sounds like he wants to see we are both aboard the ship!"

  Her words were confirmed as heavy footsteps sounded across the wooden deck, moving swiftly toward the tent. Hakon suddenly threw back the flap, and crouched down, facing them.

  "'Tis as I feared," he muttered, looking from one to the other. His expression was grim. "Haarek Jarl has sent one of his most ruthless warriors to see that his orders are obeyed. But we shall proceed as planned. Come out now, both of you. Though I have told Thorolf that you are safe, he wants to see for himself."

  Hakon first helped Anora from the tent, then Gwendolyn. He kept his voice low as he addressed her. "You must stay away from me for the rest of the journey, my love, though I would wish it otherwise. Try to appear as aloof as possible. Do not give this Thorolf the impression that you are anything but elated to be returning to your homeland." A wry smile briefly touched his face. "At least I have no worries that Anora will be anything less than convincing." With that he strode over to the port side of the ship and motioned for them to follow him.

  Gwendolyn trembled at the sight of the great warship looming beside them not more than thirty feet away. She could see at least fifty armed men staring back at her, dressed in full battle gear. Suddenly several of the warriors stepped aside as a fierce-looking man, tall and swarthy, walked up to the side of the warship.

  "Are those the wenches?" he yelled out, his shrewd eyes moving over them.

  "Yea, Lord Thorolf. They are Anora and Gwendolyn, daughters to Earl Godric of Cheshire," Hakon called back.

  He pointed to Anora. "This one is the betrothed of the Dane, Wulfgar Ragnarson."

  Thorolf nodded. "They are as beautiful as the merchant said, if not more so!" He laughed crudely, but quickly sobered. "Very well, then, Hakon Jarl. Let us sail for England!"

  "Yea," Hakon muttered, meeting Gwendolyn's gaze. "Let us sail for England."

  Chapter 43

  Gwendolyn drew in a deep breath of the salty air, staring out at the lush coastline stretching out before them. England! It had taken little more than six days of sailing to reach their homeland, what with the clear skies to guide them both day and night and the strong winds filling the large sail.

  She sighed. Haarek Jarl's warships had dogged them the entire journey, one flanking each side of Hakon's longship. She had stepped from the tent each morning, hoping to find that one or both of them had strayed off course during the night, but she was always disappointed. Even now they were cutting through the waves not far behind them, unswerving, like two guardian watchdogs.

  "Such seriousness does not suit you, my love," Hakon said softly, walking up beside her. He stood a few feet away from her, his hands resting on the railing, knowing he could move no closer. He seemed to have read her thoughts. "Yea, they have followed us this far, Gwendolyn. But do not fear. I have no doubts that we shall be able to evade them. Soon it will be dusk and we will have the cover of night to aid us." He paused, his eyes raking over her. Thor, how he longed to take her in his arms! But he knew that would have to wait, at least for a few more hours. He spoke to her in low, measured tones. "Thorolf does not know it yet, but his warships will be unable to follow us past the mouth of the river that runs alongside your father's lands. The water is much too shallow for their deeper hulls. He will have to content himself to wait for our return, though I am sure that will not sit well with him."

  Hakon chuckled lightly at her look of amazement. "Yea, my love, I have thought of every detail." But then he sobered. "Once we are inland, you will have to show me where to moor the ship so it is as close as possible to your father's stronghold. Then I will take several of my men and escort Anora through the woods to within sight of the stronghold, where we will have to leave her. Do you think your sister will be able to find the rest of the way by herself?"

  Gwendolyn nodded. "Aye, my lord. We know those woods well."

  "Good," Hakon murmured. "By then it will be dark. Once we return to the longship and are under way again, 'tis my hope that we can ease past the two warships waiting for us at the mouth of the river and be well out to sea before they are able to turn about and follow us." He smiled reassuringly. "Go and tell Anora of the plan. It will not be long now before we reach the coast."

  Gwendolyn nodded, watching as he strode back along the deck toward the prow. A surge of hope flared within her heart. It all sounded so simple. Surely it would not fail! She hurried to the tent, where Anora had spent much of her time during the voyage. This time it had been her sister who suffered miserably from seasickness. She was about to lift the leather flap when a bright glint caught her eye just off the starboard side of the ship, then another, then several glinting reflections all at once. She looked out across the rolling seas, shielding her eyes from the late-afternoon rays of the sun. Suddenly her breath caught in her throat.

  "Hakon!" she shouted, oblivious to the fact that her voice was probably carrying out to the warships not far behind them. "Hakon!" She raced to the prow of the ship, ignoring the stunned glances of his crewmen.

  "Gwendolyn, have you forgotten what I said about staying away —

  "Look there, my lord!" She cut him off breathlessly, pointing out across the water.

  "Damn!" Hakon swore loudly, his eyes narrowing at the large fleet of ships, now fully discernible, approaching them from the south. Thor, he had not anticipated a welcoming party, and such a well-armed one. He knew very well that the bright glints were caused by sunlight reflecting off polished shields and weapons.

  Hakon cursed himself for a fool. Why had he not considered that perhaps Wulfgar Ragnarson and his fleet might be waiting for them? Wouldn't he have done the same, had it been his betrothed? He shook his head grimly, his mind working fast. Maybe there was yet a chance they could leave Anora on the shore, then head back out to sea before the fleet caught up with them. There would still be Haarek Jarl's two warships to contend with, but he felt sure his longship could outsail them.

  But Olav's shout crushed his last hope. "English warships, my lord, just off the port bow!"

  Hakon wheeled around. There were at least twenty ships fast approaching them from the north. So, they were surrounded, he thought with despair, pounding his tightly clenched fist into his other hand. Truly, his gods had finally deserted him. "Head for the nearest shore, Olav!" he commanded tersely.

  "Yea, my lord!" Holding fast to the helm, Olav brought it hard about and changed the course of the longship. It skimmed across the glistening waves, straight for a wide, sandy beach only a few hundred yards away.

  Gwendolyn stood by Hakon's side, not uttering a word. Her face was pale, her emerald eyes filled with apprehension as she looked up at him.

  "There is naught we can do, Gwendolyn," he murmured raggedly. "Soon the matter will be in Wulfgar's hands." He nodded toward Anora, who had stepped shakily from the tent. "Go to your sister."

  She obe
yed numbly, his sharp orders to his crew ringing in her ears. She hurried to Anora's side, watching silently as the men lowered and furled the sail and readied their oars.

  "What is happening?" Anora asked weakly, holding on to the side of the tent. She had been sleeping, but the sudden commotion on board had awakened her with a start. She looked out over the waves, her eyes widening with surprise at the dozens of ships following close behind them in heated pursuit. Suddenly she gasped as she recognized the tall, dark-haired man standing at the prow of the lead ship. 'Tis Wulfgar, Gwendolyn, and look! Father is with him!"

  But Gwendolyn's eyes were on the beach ahead. Several of the English warships had already landed, and a line of armed men was standing there in grim formation, their weapons poised, waiting. God's blood, everything was happening so fast!

  Suddenly she and Anora were pitched forward onto the deck as the hull of the longship grated against the sandy beach. The sound of oars splintering in two from the force of their landing rent the air. Gwendolyn lifted her head dazedly. All was in confusion as Hakon's crew threw down the broken handles of their oars and grabbed their weapons lying beneath their rowing benches. Wincing from the pain of her scraped hands and knees, Gwendolyn quickly pulled herself to her feet, then bent down to help her sister.

  "Are you all right?" she asked breathlessly, looking at Anora's pale face with concern.

  "Aye," Anora murmured as she stood, leaning on Gwendolyn's shoulder for support. Her eyes widened in fear as Hakon's longship was immediately surrounded by dozens of well-armed thanes.

  "Hold your weapons, men!" Hakon ordered tersely. He could see they were outnumbered by at least three to one, and still more warriors were hastily disembarking from the many ships along the beach. Thorolf's two warships had also landed not far from them, and were surrounded as well.