Eirik closed the distance between them. Her revelations touched him deeply. It seemed as if he had misjudged her. She was so young and gentle to become a warrior queen. Destiny had played unfairly and harshly with her life. “Do not worry, my enchanting queen, all will be fine. You shall have me at your side to protect you and to—”
When he ceased his words, Alysa looked up into his troubled gaze. Their eyes locked and their emotions ran rampantly. For a time, they simply stared at each other. Eirik’s hand lifted to caress her cheek, and Alysa closed her eyes and dreamily nuzzled it. Helplessly his hands cupped her face and he lowered his lips to hers. Their mouths fused in a heady kiss which caused both to tremble with powerful desire. For what seemed a long time, they kissed feverishly, and further enflamed their bodies. He held her soft body tightly against his hard frame, and she yielded to his embrace.
Hungrily and urgently they each savored the mouth of the other. Soft moans escaped between kisses, and eager hands began to roam wildly and freely. It was Eirik who parted them, with enormous difficulty.
“I shall carry these kisses as your favor into battle, as your knights carry such signs into jousts. I must go, for soon I fight for you.”
“You will win each battle, Eirik, for Odin has willed it.”
“What of you, Alysa? Who is your chosen one?” he probed.
Alysa lowered her gaze. “I must not speak such words aloud. It is wrong for us to behave this way. It must not happen again. Go and prepare yourself. Be careful, Eirik. I would not want you slain by Evil or by Good to punish me for this weakness.”
“It is not a weakness to yield to your future husband,” he teased. “It is good that you desire me as deeply as I desire you. When I watched you at the ring, I saw and felt your desire for me, even though your eyes tried to avoid me as mine tried to avoid you. It is impossible, for the bond between us is too strong.”
Fear enlarged her blue eyes and she trembled. “I revealed it before others!” she gasped in panic. “It will cause trouble. You must go and not return to my side until the quest is over. Then, do so only if you are the winner.”
“Do not worry, m’love, others did not see or feel what I did. You hide your feelings with great skill. I feared I had repelled you.”
Alysa stared at Eirik when he used Gavin’s favorite endearment for her: “m’love.” Was it a sign? A coincidence? A trick by Evil? “We cannot do this again, Eirik. It is too dangerous for all concerned. If others suspected I desired you, they would believe I aid you with the quest. That would lead to peril for us and for the task before us. I cannot stain my honor, for I am to wed the champion.”
Eirik caressed her cheek and murmured, “I will go, m’love, and make this no harder for us. It is enough to know you feel as I do. I would never dishonor or imperil you.”
Unable to halt herself, she told him, “I will be at your ring tonight. Let no blade touch you or my reaction will expose us.”
They kissed briefly, and Eirik left with the cuirass over his arm. Alysa sank to his bed and tried to master her breathing and tremors. She suddenly realized that to avoid Eirik or to treat him coldly would arouse as much suspicion as being overly friendly with him. The answer to her dilemma, she decided, was to treat all the men equally in public.
Alysa went to Eirik’s storage chest and opened it. Nothing of Gavin’s was there—no weapon, garment, or possession. Nor had she seen anything familiar with Eirik, and the horse he rode was not Gavin’s Trojan. If only she could find clues—one tiny piece of evidence, more than an endearing word—to prove he was Gavin!
Moments ago he had seemed so like her husband in speech, manner, and behavior. How could he not be her lost love? This could not be a clever or mischievous pretense on his part, else he would have told her by now or she would have discovered it herself. Nay, this man truly believed he was Eirik.
She recalled her words to Gavin before the battle: “Clear your head of all things except survival and victory. Forget I exist…” Had her “powers” worked on Gavin? Was she somehow his enspeller? Was he by her words and her destiny enchanted? Would victory be the key to unlock his imprisoned mind?
Gavin’s last words had been, “Destiny calls to us, my warrior queen, and we must respond.” His note had said, “If it is to be, we shall meet again.” But meet as strangers? Foes? Had Gavin been sent here as Eirik to protect and love her?
When it was his turn, Eirik stepped into the” ring and assumed his position. He was wearing the leather garment which he had taken from his house. His hips and upper thighs were covered by a battle apron, and his feet were encased in furry boots with overlapping straps. Gold armbands reached from his wrists to within inches of his elbows. His dark-blond hair was secured with a leather strip at his nape to prevent it from falling into his face and obstructing his vision. He looked so handsome and virile, so strong and proud, so invincible.
His opponent joined him, a huge man with massive shoulders and arms. Alysa tried not to appear frightened or overly interested in this particular match. Rolf stood beside her, so she had to be extra careful how she behaved. The signal was given and the two men came to alert, each poised to attack his opponent and to defend himself. Slowly they circled each other as they awaited an opening to charge. Their eyes were locked as they searched for weaknesses and strengths. It was obvious both men were ignoring the loud noises from other rings where contests were going on simultaneously. Swords clanged and the match began.
Both warriors were skilled fighters. The match continued for a time, and sweat beaded on their faces and shone on their arms. But Eirik was quicker on his feet and stronger with his sword arm. With flashing speed and agility, Eirik sidestepped the man and sliced through the back of his leg near the knee, sending the man toppling forward to the ground. With such an injury, the man could not stand on it or move about to continue the match. He clasped the wounded area with one hand and tried to defend himself with the other. It was unnecessary, as Eirik did not attack him again.
The victor said, “It is over for you today, Leikn. Do you yield to spare your life as our queen desires?”
The man knew he was helpless, so he nodded. He was removed by friends and carried away to be tended. Several areas had been set up for the wounded, a place where Trosdan spent much of his time as he pretended to use his healing skills to evoke the Vikings’ gratitude and loyalty toward him and Alysa.
Alysa walked to another ring with Rolf and watched the action there. The men were serious about this contest and fought desperately to win each match. She thought about the pile of bodies near camp and knew there would be a great funeral pyre tomorrow when the first set of matches were completed. She dreaded having to observe that barbaric ritual, but knew she must.
“What troubles you, my queen?” Rolf asked.
“I was thinking of how many noble warriors have been slain. I wish more would yield and survive to travel with us on our great journey.”
“All men here wish to be champions, to become your husband and our ruler, my queen, so they fight to the death. It is hard for a man to admit defeat, even in a friendly contest.”
“But they are friends and we have need of them later. I wish the contest were not so deadly. Let us speak of other things,” she entreated, her lies having a bitter taste on her lips.
“Enid told me you do not come to bathe at my house anymore. She said Eirik stole a tub from a village for you,” he remarked in an provocative tone.
To allay Rolf’s obvious jealousy and vexation she replied nonchalantly, “He did so because I asked why he did not have one. Bathing daily is a task which many do not find a great pleasure as I do. He felt it his duty to bring me one.”
“Do you desire a slave of your own? Or a gift of Enid?”
“Nay, Rolf. I do not care to have servants underfoot in a small dwelling. I am accustomed to large and private chambers at my castle. To have someone chattering and hovering about me at all times would annoy me and dampen my spirits.” She glanced
at him and smiled sweetly. “You are kind to share Enid with me. She works hard, and is respectful. You could have no better servant to tend you and to care for your home.”
“That is all she does for me,” he whispered meaningfully.
Alysa smiled faintly as if that news embarrassed her. She did not believe his statement to be true. “I do wish to ask about other captives you have taken. Many weeks ago you attacked a castle near the Logris border in my land. You captured a raven-haired woman and her two daughters who lived there. They are the family of a past friend and feudal lord. What has happened to them? I have not seen them here.” In fact, she had recognized no slave here as Damnonian, which relieved her.
Rolf was intrigued. “I gave them to Horsa, Hengist’s brother, as a truce offering. Do you wish me to buy them back for you?”
“Nay, I only wished to know their fates. Lord Daron once saved my life when a poacher mistook me for a peasant girl who had witnessed his crime. If they were here, I would want no harm to come to them when it is time to release the slaves to begin our quest.”
“How did you know I attacked there?” he asked.
Alysa laughed softly. “Those who escaped came to my castle to report to their ruler. They described the leader as a handsome blond giant who was accompanied by a wizard wearing a black robe with strange symbols upon it. When I saw you and Einar, I realized the victory was yours.”
“Had I known the queen of my heart and destiny was so near, I would have stormed your castle and lay claim to you.”
Again Alysa laughed. In a playful tone, she scolded, “You did much damage and terrorized my subjects. In the future, we must be careful not to destroy property which will soon belong to us.”
“To us?” he echoed with a broad grin.
“I meant to us as Vikings, Rolf. Do not play with my words,” she teased him as he chuckled.
“Come, I must take you to your house to rest and sleep. Perhaps we can ride tomorrow. Your horse must need exercise by now,” he added so she could not refuse his offer.
“If there is time, I will do so,” she replied noncommittally.
When Alysa was snuggled in bed, she decided that things must be going as planned back home. If not, she would have known by now. When this matter was settled, she would find a way—either by force or ransom—to get Lady Gweneth and her daughters back safely.
Come lie with me, my love… She mentally summoned Gavin before drifting off to sleep to dream of him.
Rolf did not take her riding the next morning because he and a band of Vikings raided a villlage an hour away for supplies. Now she knew the location of at least one village if an opportunity to sneak there safely presented itself. Alysa strolled about the settlement and watched the men honing their skills for upcoming bouts in the rings. Needing to release energy, Alysa collected her sword and shield and headed for the practice ground where Thorkel was working. She approached him and asked him to exercise with her, since Eirik was not around to use this ruse to be together.
Thorkel flashed her a toothy grin. “Only if you tell me how you beat me last time. You are a woman, a small one.”
“Your pride is your weakness, Thorkel. You assumed you could best me because of what you viewed—a woman, a small one!—so you did not think me competition for your size and skills and did not fight your best until I had the advantage over you. Then you allowed anger to dull your wits and desperation to create mistakes. You also allowed me to distract you with my looks and words. You must keep your head clear and your mind alert to your opponent’s trickery.”
Alysa and Thorkel tapped swords as if to say, “Ready.” Flashing sword crossed flashing sword time and time again. They moved quickly and nimbly, but were careful not to wound the other. Alysa wielded her weapon with an expertise and ease which amazed the viewers crowding around them. Once, she ducked and slammed her head into Thorkel’s belly, jarring him backward. He hastily recovered his balance and laughed mirthfully to conceal his embarrassment.
“Wait one moment. My boot is coming off,” she told him.
When he lowered his sword to obey, she whirled and placed the tip of her blade at his throat. She reminded, “Remember your opponent’s trickery. Never slack off and never give him the advantage. A warrior who seems lest harmful often offers the greatest peril.”
The men around them cheered loudly for their victorious queen and teased Thorkel, who seemed to take his defeat good-naturedly. To make certain, Alysa said, “You are a superior fighter, Thorkel. I am glad you restrained yourself to let me work out with you. Had our fighting been genuine, I doubt I could have won this time.”
The shaggy-haired warrior was delighted by her words and manner. He grinned and thanked her. “I have seen you use a sword and dagger, my queen. Do you have skills with the bow and lance?”
“I have practiced with them many times. Shall we try them?”
Targets were swiftly set up by eager men, and Alysa was handed a lance. She gauged the distance, wind, and weight of the large weapon. She lifted her right arm and positioned it before taking several rapid steps and releasing the lance. It hurled through the air and struck its target in the center. Twice more she was encouraged to repeat her action, and twice more she was successful. The crowd, which had grown larger, cheered and praised her.
“Which do you wish, my queen, the longbow or crossbow?” one of the warriors inquired.
“You choose,” she told him, and he selected the longbow. Alysa laughed softly, knowing most believed that weapon required more skill.
After emptying a quiver of arrows which all found their assigned targets, the men gaped in awe at the beautiful woman before them.
“Truly she is a warrior queen as legend claims,” one man said.
Alysa remarked, “It is nearing time for the contest to continue. We must go and prepare ourselves. May Odin watch over you and guide you.” She turned to leave and saw Eirik’s eyes gazing upon her from the corral. The look on his face was one of amazement and obvious pride in her skills.
She joined him. “Would you take care of my weapons while I give Calliope a good run? I will not go out of sight.”
“You are … magnificent,” he said, choosing a word which only halfway described this unique woman. “Shall I ride with you?”
“Nay, it is unwise. Wait for me here with my weapons. We can steal a moment longer when I return for them.”
Alysa mounted Calliope bareback and guided him out of the rickety corral. She smiled at Eirik, then gave her horse his lead. Off they galloped across the clearing, the wind seizing her hair and spreading it out like a flowing brown cape behind her.
Eirik observed her intently as she raced back and forth, remaining in view as promised. He could tell how much she loved the dun and riding. She looked so alive, so radiant. Few men or women could ride bareback, and especially so gracefully and expertly. What a stunning creature she was! He wished he could join her and they could escape into the forest for a private meeting. But as she had warned, it was too dangerous for them.
Alysa returned to the corral, nearly breathless and with pink cheeks. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as blue jewels beneath a blazing sun. Her loose hair was tangled and cascaded around her shoulders. For the first time, Eirik realized she was wearing loose pants and a linen shirt. Yet the manly garments looked fetching on her. He secured the corral and went to help her gather her belongings.
As they walked toward his dwelling to put them away, he teased, “You did not tell me you were a skilled warrior. I heard Thorkel’s tale, but thought it a wild story which could not be true.”
Alysa replied in words which were honest, but not with the meaning Eirik would grasp, “It seems as if I have been training for this destiny all my life. I have ridden since childhood, and used weapons longer than I can remember. I was taught to track and how to use my wits. Until recently, I did not know I was preparing for such a great moment in my life and in our history.”
“How did you know it was time to ret
urn to your people?”
“Trosdan came to me and told me. At first, I battled his words, for they were strange and frightening. I have lived a rather peaceful existence; now, I go to war as a foreign queen.”
“Do you always trust and obey this wizard?”
A look of love and respect brightened her features. “Yea, Eirik, for he is wise and powerful. Many times I have been shown he speaks the truth. I possess a gift which I cannot explain or control. I see things in dreams, then they come true. When peril surrounds me, some force protects and guides me. When I have need of proof, it is provided. Do you believe in such things?”
“Yea, m’love, I believe in the powers which surround us and guide us. I cannot explain them, but I know they exist. Have you seen me in your dreams?” he asked unexpectedly.
Alysa flushed with guilt and turned her face from his keen eyes. Eirik entreated, “Tell me what you saw, m’love.” “I cannot.”
“Will you say if it is good or bad?” he persisted.
Eleven
Before Alysa could reply, Trosdan joined them. As if Eirik were not present, the old man focused on Alysa. “Enid has prepared your bath, my queen. You must hurry to get ready for the contest.”
The Damnonian princess nodded respectfully and left them. Eirik remarked, “You have much control over her, wizard. I pray you only use your powers wisely on her and on my people.”
The Druid’s sky-blue gaze met Eirik’s concerned one as the warrior scrutinized him closely. There was an air of mystery, reverence, and potent authority about the white-haired Viking—an aura which implied he possessed great skills and knowledge about the secrets of life. His clear eyes were gentle, but impenetrable. His manner was kind and easygoing. Yet Eirik sensed he was a man who could not be swayed from his beliefs.
The Last Viking Queen Page 16