by Speer, Flora
“The ice has melted at last. The river is still flooding, but I am leaving tomorrow,” Torgard said. “I’ll get my goods to Kiev before anyone else. Three of my men were killed in a brawl yesterday. I will hire you to take their places if you are willing to do hard work, but I don’t want to take the woman with me.”
“She’s strong and healthy,” Rodfos said helpfully. “She could cook for you.”
“I do my own cooking. A woman will only make trouble.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll keep to myself and I won’t slow you down. I promise.”
“She is a good traveler, Torgard,” Rodfos put in. “I had no problem when she was on my ship.”
“Well,” Torgard looked annoyed at this insistence, “I do need more men, and there are few for hire in Aldeigjuborg. All right, but I want you to know I’m not happy about this.” Then, dismissing Lenora with a shrug, Torgard promptly began discussing the trip to Kiev with Erik and Halfdan.
“Thank you,” Lenora said to Rodfos, one hand on his arm.
“Good luck, Freydis. We won’t meet again.” Rodfos’ huge hand covered hers for just a moment.
When their business was finally concluded, the men separated, Torgard and Rodfos going off together. Lenora watched them until they were out of sight.
“You will have your way after all, Lenora. You and Halfdan will have to go with me.” Erik was frowning at her. “What did you tell Rodfos that made him bring that man to us?”
“I told him Sven had followed us from Denmark, that if he married me, he would beat me all the time. I made no changes in the story we first told him, except to let him believe Sven is the one who wants me.”
Lenora was still angry with Erik. She decided not to tell him what she had learned about Rodfos that day, or why he had helped them. Instead, she wiped out the cooking cauldron and began to pack their supply of food for the journey south.
Chapter 19
The journey from Aldeigjuborg to Kiev forever after lay in Lenora’s memory as a confused jumble of painful impressions.
The trip did not begin too badly, as they sailed and rowed south on one river to the lake where Holmgard lay, then, a day later, moved southward again on another river. Lenora felt oppressed by the thick, dark forests surrounding them, and lonely in the vast, unpeopled land, but she could bear that so long as they were heading toward Miklagard. Neither she nor her two companions made any protest about the pace Torgard set. The faster they moved, the farther away from Snorri and Sven they would be.
Once on their way they quickly dropped the fiction that Lenora was Erik’s sister. She was relieved to have her own name back again.
The trouble began with their first portage. They paused while the men felled trees, using the trimmed trunks as rollers upon which they dragged Torgard’s two boats for miles across land to the next river. The path through the forest had been cleared by others who traveled that way before them, and they even found a few tree trunks left ready for their use, but it was slow, hard work, made worse by swarms of mosquitoes and the sudden advent of humid heat. Erik and Halfdan willingly joined the other men in their labors, while Lenora did menial jobs, cooked for the men, and nursed their inevitable injuries.
The problem was Torgard. He wanted to travel even faster than they had been doing. He explained to them that because of dangerous rapids in the river south of Kiev, the trip to the Euxine Sea and Miklagard could be made only in early summer.
“After the ice has broken the spring floods begin,” Torgard said. “At that time the river is too dangerous for travel, but as the waters recede, the traders of Kiev assemble their loaded boats at Vitaholm, just downriver from Kiev, and then, when the water level has dropped to a certain point, they sail south together. They always travel in large groups for safety from the Khazars, who live on the steppe south of Kiev, and who will attack anyone on the river. The rapid flow of the water makes travel faster and carries the boats over many of the rocks and shallow spots. It is still a difficult journey, with portages around cataracts and rapids, but it is easier at midsummer than at any other time of year. For the man who successfully takes his merchandise to the sea, the rewards are great.”
Torgard was determined to reach Kiev in time to sail with the merchant fleet that summer.
“Otherwise I must wait until next year,” he said. “I have never been to Miklagard before. I have always sold my goods in Kiev, to others who carried them south and reaped the profit. This year I will go myself. I expect to return a rich man. For that to happen, we must reach Kiev before the fleet sails. Unfortunately, we are already late because the ice on the northern rivers did not melt soon enough and I was delayed in Aldeigjuborg.”
He drove them mercilessly. He scarcely gave them time to sleep or eat. The tired men grew surly and accidents multiplied.
Only Lenora never grumbled. She knew none of the men was happy at her presence, and she was afraid if she did complain they would simply leave her behind.
The first portage successfully accomplished, they enjoyed the brief respite provided by river travel before transferring to land once more. The second portage took ten days and was much more difficult than the first. One man lost a leg in an accident and soon died of infection.
Erik, as tired as everyone else and convinced they were far enough away from Snorri to feel safe at last, quarreled with Torgard, insisting they stop for a few days.
“The men will work better if they are rested,” Erik argued. “Let them sleep a bit and then hunt for a day. Fresh meat will make us all stronger. You won’t make any profit if we are too weak to take your boats to Kiev.”
Torgard gave them one day.
The damp wilderness on either side of the river teamed with animal life. The hunting party returned with ducks, squirrels, and a small deer. They ate well that night, and Torgard grudgingly provided a barrel of mead from his stores.
After the meal, Erik took Lenora’s hand and pulled her into the trees. They lay on a bed of pine needles that was only slightly damp, and he took her into his arms.
“Aren’t you glad I came with you, instead of going back to Denmark?” she teased, holding him close, enjoying the feeling of his strong masculine frame against her own softer body. At his touch, the yearning had begun somewhere deep inside her. She forgot their recent quarrels in anticipation of the pleasure they would give each other. It had been so long since they had lain like this, back at Thorkellshavn. Her lips parted in expectation as she moved against him eagerly, wanting him.
“No,” he whispered into her hair, one hand reaching down to raise her skirt, “no, I am not glad you are here. You should be safe at Limfjord by now. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about you.
Lenora struck at him so suddenly that he let her go in surprise. She rolled out of his arms and away from him and knelt on the ground. She felt as though he had thrown her into the cold river.
“If you don’t want me here,” her throat was tight as she forced the words out, “then don’t try to make love to me. I am no longer yours to use as you once did, without my consent. In case you have forgotten, you freed me, before witnesses.”
“I haven’t forgotten. But I want you, and I know you want me. Come here.”
“No.” She got to her feet, nimbly sidestepping his reach when he would have pulled her down beside him again. In a state of angry confusion, she started back toward the campfire. She did not understand her own feelings. She wanted Erik, had wanted him badly for weeks, but she could not lie with him that night. He wanted a woman, but any woman would do. Lenora wanted Erik to want her, and her alone.
She wrapped her frayed woolen cloak around herself and lay down by the fire. She saw Erik return, fill a cup with ale, and drain it at a gulp. His expression was stormy behind his thickly grown beard.
I don’t care how angry he is, she thought. I’m not his slave any more.
Torgard roused them at first light. The heavy, seemlingly endless labor began again. Slowly, painfully, the boats were dra
gged on the tree trunk follers, a few feet at a time, over the swampy ground between the two rivers.
“There,” Torgard cried late one afternoon, pointing to a wide band of silver just visible between the trees. “The Dneiper River at last.”
The next morning they launched the boats and headed downriver to Kiev. Torgard urged them on, resenting each night’s darkness when they were forced to draw the boats to the side of the river to wait for daylight, waking them again before dawn so they could set off as soon as it was light enough to see.
They were all reeling with exhaustion by the time they arrived at Kiev. When Torgard learned the yearly flotilla of boats bound for Miklagard had already left, there was no controlling him.
“You delayed us,” he raged at Erik. “If you hadn’t made us stop and rest, we would have been here in time. I did you a kindness, letting you travel under my protection, and now you have ruined me. You’ll pay for this.”
Erik laughed and walked away from the angry man.
“What shall we do now?” Halfdan asked. “We can’t stay in Kiev for an entire year, waiting for Snorri and Sven to find us.”
“We won’t have to.” Erik was undaunted. “Despite what Torgard says, there are traders who leave later in the season. We will just have to find one and offer him our services. The trip is more difficult because the river is lower, and more dangerous because the Khazars are more likely to attack small parties of travelers, but it can be done.”
Once more they pitched Halfdan ‘s little tent on the outskirts of a trading town. Erik set out to find someone, anyone, who was going to Miklagard and could use two strong fighting men as guards.
Lenora was amazed by the change in Erik. The farther they traveled from Thorkellshavn, the more confident and self-assured he became. He stood taller and straighter, and even his limp became less noticeable. He moved easily among the mixed population of Kiev, speaking the Danish tongue, or Greek, or even Latin when necessary. His brilliant smile flashed often as he talked with strangers.
He had made no further attempt to possess her. He treated her with casual indifference. She told herself she did not care.
The Rus, most of whom came from Sweden, had built Kiev on the western bank of the river, on a bluff safely above the high waters of the spring floods, and well-fortified against attack. Below the town, sandy beaches fringed the islands that lay in mid-river, and the dark green forest grew almost down to the water’s edge. Sturdy log houses with oak fences around them attested to the prosperity of the Northmen who had settled this wild land.
When Erik had sailed to Miklagard seven years earlier, it was in the force assembled by Askold and Dir, the joint rulers of Kiev. His bravery and shrewd intelligence had brought the young Dane to Askold’s attention during the expedition. Erik also visited Askold on his way back to Denmark three years after the disastrous storm that had shattered his leg and ruined Askold’s hopes of conquering the Great City. Erik’s friendship with Basil Panopoulos had helped Askold in his secondary goal of establishing regular trade with the Greeks. Now, leaving Lenora to attend to their campsite, Erik and Halfdan went to call upon Askold, hoping he could direct them to a merchant traveling south.
With the tent set up and some of the goods from their rapidly shrinking bundles bartered for food, Lenora tried to repair the ravages of the difficult journey from Aldeigjuborg. She washed her face and hands and combed her hair. She really wanted a bath, having grown used to that luxury while at Thorkellshavn, but Erik had warned her not to go away from the tent unless he or Halfdan accompanied her. Kiev was a dangerous place for a young woman alone.
The linen shift and woolen over-garment she had worn since leaving Denmark were filthy and tattered. Lenora pulled from her scanty pile of belongings the blue-green silk caftan she had found in Holgar’s warehouse just before leaving Hedeby. It was badly wrinkled and had a water spot on one sleeve, but she put it on. In the damp, early-summer heat, the light fabric was like a caress against her skin.
“That’s very pretty, Lenora.”
She whirled to see Torgard watching her. She wondered how long he had been standing there, just outside the tent.
“Are you all alone?” he asked.
“Erik will be back soon. Did you want to speak with him?”
“Yes, but it can wait. You should have a gold necklace to go with your new dress.” Torgard’s eyes held hers, making her uncomfortable. “I have one among my wares. Would you like to come and see it?”
“I can’t go with you. Erik told me to stay by the tent.”
“Do you always do what he says? He treats you like a slave.”
This was so close to Lenora’s own sentiment about Erik’s present attitude toward her that she forgot her dislike of Torgard for a moment and smiled at her visitor.
“I am no man’s slave,” she said.
“Then you are free to come with me. You could at least look at the necklace.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“It isn’t far from here. You will be back before Erik returns from Askold’s hall. He will never know you disobeyed him. I can show you the marketplace as we go. Would you like to see the silks that come from far to the east? Some of them are even more beautiful than the robe you are wearing.”
“Well...” Lenora hesitated.
“Are you frightened? I will protect you. After you have seen the necklace, I will bring you safely back here, and then I’ll talk to Erik. I may have found some traders who will let you travel with them to Miklagard.”
“That’s wonderful.” Torgard seemed to have forgotten his anger against Erik, and after what he had just said, Lenora did not want to remind him of it. Perhaps he wasn’t as unpleasant a person as she had thought. “I can only be away for a little while. I’m supposed to watch over our belongings.”
“I understand, Lenora.” Torgard took her arm and guided her toward the bustle of the marketplace. Lenora soon forgot her initial reluctance to go with him and became absorbed by the sights and sounds around her. Kiev was larger than Aldeigjuborg or Hedeby, its market filled with goods more exotic and bountiful than Lenora had ever seen before. She paid little attention to the direction in which Torgard was leading her until he paused to open the door of a square log house.
“Where are we?”
“This is my home. Come inside, Lenora. I’ll show you the necklace, then I’ll take you back to your tent.”
Lenora stepped through the door. Torgard followed, bolting the door securely behind himself. Lenora began to feel uneasy.
“I think I should leave,” she said.
“You will remain here.”
Lenora suddenly recalled something Torgard had said earlier. “How did you know Erik had gone to see Askold?”
“My servant has been watching you. I know everything you three have done since we all arrived here in Kiev.”
“Why? What do you want?” Her uneasiness was increasing rapidly.
“Erik has nearly ruined me by delaying us on the trip downriver until the flotilla had left. I lost huge profits because of him.”
“That is ridiculous. The traders’ boats had left for Miklagard days before we got to Kiev. You could never have been here in time.”
Torgard laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. “What Erik cost me, I will begin to make up on you.”
Lenora had gone beyond uneasiness. She was now very afraid of the harmless-looking man before her.
“What are you going to do with me?”
“Sell you. I will gain some silver from the transaction. Erik and Halfdan will delay their departure from Kiev to search for you. The delay will allow your pursuers to catch up with them.” Seeing the look on Lenora’s face, Torgard laughed again. “Rodfos told me you were running away from someone who had followed you across the Baltic Sea. He paid me to take you to safety. He did not know who your pursuers were, but I reason that anyone who wants you and your friends badly enough to travel such a long distance will be willing to pay for informat
ion on your whereabouts. I will know where Erik and Halfdan are, so I will make a lot of silver from that. Then, if your pursuers want you, too, I’ll sell them that information also, and let them fight your owner for you. In fact, I might even warn him your pursuers are after him, and make a little more money as a reward for my kindness to him.”
“Who are you going to sell me to?” Lenora could only hope that whoever Torgard was dealing with would be a decent person who would accept her explanation that she had been abducted and let her go.
“He will be here shortly,” Torgard said. “In the meantime, we may as well enjoy ourselves.”
Torgard grabbed Lenora by the wrist and dragged her toward a bed platform that was covered with dirty, matted furs. She fought him every step of the way. She was overcome with disgust and loathing of Torgard, and with anger at herself for leaving the safety of Halfdan’s tent with the man. It did not occur to her until much later that Torgard would have gotten her away from the tent by any means, however violent, so he could carry out his plan.
Torgard threw her roughly onto the furs and then flung himself on top of her. Lenora continued to fight him. If she could just get away from him, get out of his house, find her way back to the tent and find Erik, then all would be well.
Torgard’s hands were all over her, pinching and bruising and probing. He ripped the silk robe off one shoulder. At last she lay still, watching him through slitted eyes. He ignored her reactions, intent on satisfying his own lust before Lenora’s purchaser arrived. When he loosened his hold on her to pull down his breeches, Lenora wriggled aside, and then, just as he uncovered himself, she jabbed him in the groin with her knee. He screamed in pain.
Lenora scrambled off the bed and ran to the door. She fumbled with the bolt and finally slid it open.
She plunged through the doorway, falling into the arms of a blond giant who had lifted one fist to knock on the door. He caught her around the waist, lifting her off her feet and slinging her carelessly over his shoulder as he carried her back into Torgard’s house. There, still holding the kicking, fighting Lenora, the newcomer burst into laughter.