Viking Passion

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Viking Passion Page 21

by Speer, Flora


  “Our pleasure will have to wait,” Attair said. “The Khazars have attacked one of my baggage trains coming overland from the Volga River. I am needed there. I may be gone for a day or two. The women will attend to you until I return. When I do, we will finish what we started tonight.” A large hand reached out and clasped one of Lenora’s breasts in a firm grip. “Do not try to escape, my beauty. Do not even dream of it. I leave my compound well guarded, and I have an unbreakable agreement with my men. They never touch my female slaves, except the foolish few who try to escape. Those women, my men are free to use as they wish. So be wise, Lenora. Remain here, and wait for me.” Attair removed his hand from her breast and walked out of the room.

  Lenora fell onto the cushions, weeping in shame and relief. She had not wanted Attair, but her body, starved for so long for Erik’s lovemaking, had responded to him against her will, had demanded release from weeks of anger and frustration. She cried harder. She had a reprieve, but Attair would return, and when he did he would make her his. Once Attair had lain with her, she was certain Erik, even if by some wild chance he found and rescued her, would never take her to his bed again. Lenora cried herself to sleep in hopeless anguish.

  She wakened, still alone, uncertain what part of the day it was. There were no windows in this chamber; the only light came from the ornate oil lamps. The two silent, nameless serving women arrived with fresh food. Lenora was famished. She downed chunks of lamb cooked with rice, nibbled pastries filled with honey and almonds, and drank the heavy red wine the women poured for her. Then they took her to the bathhouse, where the routine of the day before was repeated. She was bathed and scented and painted and dressed, this time in a deep blue caftan trimmed in silver. The women escorted her back to Attair’s room, which had been tidied in her absence.

  Lenora waited. And waited. She was bored, and she feared Attair’s return. The serving women brought more food. Lenora ate again of unknown dishes redolent with spices and drank cooling fruit juices, then fell into a deep slumber. She woke up to a day that was a repetition of the one before. A third day followed, equally boring, until, returning from the bathhouse in late afternoon, she found Attair waiting for her at the door of his private room.

  He looked down at her taking in her flowing rose-colored silk gown and her freshly washed hair. He fingered a long, slender knife stuck into his belt, caressing it with voluptuous pleasure. Lenora sensed a barely restrained anger in him.

  “I don’t like that color,” Attair said, glancing at her dress again.

  “I’ll change it,” she offered.

  “Never mind. You won’t be wearing it long.”

  Fear stabbed through Lenora. She knew he was going to take her in a very few minutes. Something in the way he looked at her told her that this time he would not be stopped by anything and, further, he would not be as gentle as he had been before. She wished he would leave his knife alone.

  “Did you catch the Khazars and get your goods back?” she asked, hoping to distract him from the blade.

  “No, I did not. An entire caravan loaded with silks and silver, lost to me. If I had found just one Khazar, I would feel better.” His fingers stroked the knife again.

  “I’m sorry.” Perhaps sympathy would soothe his temper. She did not want to be the outlet for his rage over his failure. “Did you really lose so very much? Surely, if you are a rich man, as you said—”

  “Torgard is bringing me another woman tomorrow,” he interrupted her. “After tonight, you will work in the kitchen.”

  “Have I displeased you in some way?” She did not know whether to be relieved or more frightened. Attair smiled at her, and fear won. When he spoke, she remembered the silent serving women.

  “You talk too much, Lenora. You ask too many questions. I have something special planned for you tonight, to silence your clattering tongue, and then in the morning, you leave my chamber.”

  As his hand continued to fondle his knife, Attair‘s eyes shifted toward the door to the courtyard, where there seemed to be some kind of excited exchange taking place. He stepped to the door.

  “What’s going on out there?” he called.

  “I wish to speak to Attair the trader.”

  At the sound of that familiar masculine voice, Lenora’s heart nearly stopped.

  “Who are you?” Attair called.

  “I am Erik, called the Far-traveler. I need to discuss with you a matter concerning your reputation.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my reputation.” Attair laughed.

  “But there is. You have been tricked by that weasel, Torgard. Now he is telling the story to everyone he meets, and laughing at you.”

  “You had better come in.”

  Attair stepped aside and Erik entered the house, looking calm and faintly amused.

  “You, go away.” Attair jerked his head at Lenora.

  “Let her stay,” Erik said. “It’s about her that I’ve come. Shall we go in here? You don’t want your servants to hear this.”

  He walked lightly into Attair’s private chamber. He looked around at the luxurious decor, raised his eyebrows, and grinned at Lenora.

  “What is it you have to say to me, Erik the Far-traveler?” Attair was abrupt, not troubling to disguise his irritation at this intrusion.

  “Four days ago you bought this slave woman from Torgard. He cheated you.”

  “How?”

  “She was my slave when Torgard stole her from my tent. I come to you openly because I believe you purchased her honestly, not knowing she was another man’s property. I want her back.”

  “I am not your slave,” Lenora declared angrily. When she had first seen Erik, she had had to resist with all her strength the desire to run into his arms, but now she was furious with him. How dare he call her his slave when he had freed her in Denmark? Why did he not simply tell Attair that she was a free woman? All her bitterness and resentment at Erik’s cold treatment of her flared anew.

  Erik behaved as though he had not heard her angry exclamation. He smiled at Attair in a friendly way.

  “If she were not my slave,” Erik asked, “why would I bring her on such a dangerous journey? I care nothing for her, but I paid good silver for her, as you paid Torgard. He cheated you by paying me nothing and then charging you too much for her. It was all profit for Torgard.”

  “How do you know this?” Attair asked.

  “I overheard Torgard boasting to someone about it. He thinks it’s a marvelous joke, and says he is going to do the same thing again tomorrow.”

  “Is he?”

  “Isn’t he?”

  The two men stared at each other. Attair turned his eyes away first. He gave an uncomfortable laugh.

  “That Torgard is a clever thief. Someday, one of his victims will finish him. He is bringing me another woman tomorrow,” Attair admitted.

  “I can help you. I will buy this woman from you for more than you paid Torgard. Then you can boast of your profit on her and everyone will know what a shrewd trader you are.”

  “And what of your reputation? You would look foolish indeed after such a bargain, losing silver to both Torgard and me.”

  “I’m on my way to Miklagard. I won’t return to Kiev. I care nothing what men here say of me.”

  “I doubt that. Still, I am growing tired of this woman’s constant chatter. And I could use the silver. I have suffered a business loss. Yes, perhaps I will consider selling her.” Attair named a price. Lenora knew it was inflated.

  “Of course,” Attair added, “I have fed and clothed and housed her for four days. I should be paid for that.”

  As the two men haggled, Lenora watched Erik. By no glance or word did he reveal any personal interest in her. She was merchandise to him, nothing more. And yet she was not really his slave, and well he knew it, whatever he told Attair. Erik had not wanted her to travel with him to Miklagard. Why, when he had been conveniently relieved of her unwelcome presence, had he come to rescue her?

  At last E
rik held up his hands.

  “According to Torgard, you bought Lenora for one hundred twenty dirhams. I will pay you two hundred dirhams. It is all the silver I have left. Since you know how Torgard tricked you, you can probably convince him to give you the new slave woman at a lower price.”

  “I like your boldness, Erik. Few men would dare to walk into my compound alone and unarmed as you have done.” Attair looked from Erik to Lenora. His full lips curved in a peculiar smile. He ran his tongue over his lips, moistening them. “How much did you say?” he asked.

  “Two hundred dirhams. It’s good Arab silver.”

  “I’m sure it is. Very well, take her.”

  Lenora could not repress the sound of relief and joy that escaped her lips. However angry she might be with Erik, it would be wonderful to be free of the fear and the stifling confinement of Attair’s house.

  “Find the serving women,” Attair told her. “Get from them the clothing you wore when I bought you. That gown is mine.”

  “Yes. I won’t be long.” Lenora hurried to the door, then stopped. “My silver and my amber. I want them back. They belong to me.”

  She saw Attair’s expression harden.

  “Lenora,” Erik said, his voice harsh with tension, “do as Attair has told you.”

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  She ran out the door. When she returned to the log house a short time later, clad in her torn blue-green dress, Erik was waiting for her just outside the door. There was no sign of Attair. Erik took her by the wrist and headed for the courtyard gate.

  “What about my silver?” she asked, hanging back.

  “You’re lucky to get away with your life. Stop worrying about a bag of coins,” he replied angrily.

  “But it’s mine. I earned it.”

  He stopped so suddenly that she bumped into him.

  “Would you like me to give you back to him? Would you like to learn first-hand what he does to his discarded women?”

  “He said he would send me to work in the kitchen.” Lenora resolutely rejected the vision in her mind of Attair stroking his knife with loving fingers, and the memory of his words about silencing her tongue. Erik was just trying to frighten her.

  “Is that what he told you? The kitchen? I won’t terrify you by telling you the truth. I heard a lot about Attair while I was searching for you, and none of it was good. Torgard deliberately sold you to Attair, knowing full well what he would do once he was bored with you. Now keep quiet until we’re safely away from here.”

  “That’s what all men tell me,” Lenora muttered. “‘Just keep quiet, Lenora,’ ‘Be silent, Lenora,’ ‘Don’t talk so much, Lenora.’ ”

  “You should take the advice.” Erik jerked her wrist, pulling her after him once more. “We aren’t free of this compound yet.”

  They were approaching the heavy wooden gate of the stockade surrounding Attair’s property. Three guardsmen stood before the gate. Erik, still holding tightly to Lenora’s wrist, stopped and fixed his gaze on the men. After a period of time that seemed to Lenora to last forever, the leader grinned sheepishly and gave an order. The gate began to swing open. Lenora could see Halfdan waiting outside, mounted and holding the reins of a second horse that stamped and snorted its impatience to be away.

  Erik hurried her through the gate, but when she would have broken into a run, he held her back.

  “Easy,” he said quietly. “Try to look natural and unconcerned.”

  “What’s natural in a situation like this?” she responded. Only now, outside those wooden walls, could Lenora begin to admit to herself the overwhelming terror she had hidden for four long days. “I just want to be gone from this place.”

  “Hello.” Halfdan greeted her as though she had returned from a walk to the marketplace. “It’s good to see you.”

  Erik boosted her onto the spare horse, then mounted behind her. He turned his horse and they rode away. She leaned her head against his chest for a moment, feeling suddenly weak.

  “You slept with him.” Erik’s face was grim.

  “I did not,” Lenora snapped, strength and anger both returning. “He was called away before – before that could happen. But I might have, if you had not come when you did. Erik, I was his slave and I was afraid. He has two serving women whose tongues he had ordered removed.”

  Erik’s arms tightened about her. “He probably tore them out himself. From what I’ve heard of Attair, he likes to torture women. I have occasionally wanted to silence you permanently myself, but -” His green eyes were serious in spite of his light tone. “Did he hurt you?

  “No, but I believe what you’ve said. I’m sure he is a cruel man.” She shivered and drew closer to Erik once more. “Thank you for rescuing me. I hoped you would come to set me free.”

  “You are not free,” he told her. “I paid the last of my silver to buy you.”

  She could not believe what she had just heard.

  “You set me free in Denmark,” she said.

  “Only because I thought I would never see you again. If I had known you would be dragging after me all this distance, I would never have freed you.” He laughed down at her, seeing her stricken expression, and once more his arms tightened, nearly taking her breath away. “Now you are mine again. And this time I may never set you free.”

  Lenora was silent a while, absorbing this. She noticed they had circled around to the south of the settlement that was Kiev, and were approaching the river.

  “Where are we going?” she asked dully, her mind still primarily focused on her newly enslaved status.

  “We are going to Miklagard,” Erik told her. “Today. Torgard is taking us.”

  Chapter 21

  “Torgard? Are you mad?” Lenora slid to the ground and watched Erik dismount. They were in a grove of closely clustered trees. Through the dense underbrush she could just see the gleam of the river.

  Halfdan had also dismounted. He and Erik lifted heavily packed saddlebags off their horses. Halfdan looped each horse’s reins securely about its saddle and smacked each on the rump. The horses wandered off through the trees.

  “They’ll find their way home,” Halfdan said.

  “Too bad we couldn’t sell them,” Erik remarked. “There’s no silver left.”

  “How much did you pay for them?” Lenora wondered.

  Halfdan laughed, the cheerful boyish sound she remembered so well.

  “We stole them,” he said. “Here, Lenora, you carry this.” He tossed a bundle at her, then crashed through the bushes after Erik. Lenora followed.

  Torgard was tied securely to a tree near the river. He had a black eye and a large bruise on his jaw.

  “Are you glad to see us alive?” Erik teased. “I didn’t have to tell Attair where to find you after all.”

  Torgard whimpered.

  “What is he doing here?” Lenora demanded. She circled Torgard, wishing she had a weapon handy.

  Halfdan chuckled. “Well, after he told us where you were, we invited him to join us on our journey. It seemed the hospitable thing to do. He wouldn’t have a chance if Attair found him after learning what a cheat he is. You can slice him up any way you like later, but for now he has provided our supplies.”

  Lenora saw a boat pulled up among the trees. It was a small copy of a Viking longship, similar to the fishing craft in which they had escaped from Thorkellshavn. Erik was adding their saddlebags and the bundle Lenora had carried to a pile of fresh provisions already lashed into the bottom of the craft. Lenora recognized in the pile the cauldron in which she had cooked so many meals.

  “We’re going to Miklagard in that?” she asked doubtfully.

  “To the Euxine Sea at least,” Erik said. “That’s why we are letting Torgard live. It will be easier with four of us to move it over the portages.”

  “Four of us?”

  “You aren’t in Attair’s harem any more, Lenora. You will have to work with the rest of us.” She had the strangest feeling that Erik wa
s laughing at her.

  “We had better get started,” Halfdan said. “It will be dark soon, and I have no doubt Attair and his men will be close behind us.”

  “Why should he come after us?” Lenora asked.

  “For the pleasure of killing all of us slowly now that he has our silver and has teased us by letting us believe for a while that we are free of him,” Erik said. “That is Attair’s way. Let’s get the boat into the water, then I’ll untie our friend Torgard.”

  “Not so fast!” The tall, lean figure of Sven the Dark stepped through the trees, his pale blond hair catching the late-day sunlight. Several bulky shadows with drawn swords loomed behind him.

  “Sven, help me,” screamed Torgard.

  “Why should I help you, you sniveling coward?”

  “I told you where they were,” Torgard’s eyes rolled in fright. “Untie me, Sven, so I can escape this battle. Please, please.”

  “You were no help to me. After you told me where they used to be camped, I had to track them for half a day before I found them.” Sven the Dark turned to Erik. “Where is Freydis? Where is Snorri’s silver?”

  “Freydis is where you can’t find her,” Halfdan said. “She is safe with my father, and so is Erik’s silver.”

  “That’s Freydis,” Torgard exclaimed. “That woman there. They called her Freydis at first.”

  “I see,” Sven said slowly. “They tricked you, Torgard. They tricked all of us. Lenora pretended to be Freydis to draw us away from Denmark until the real Freydis was safe.”

  “That’s it,” Erik said. He moved about casually, as though he had nothing serious on his mind, but Lenora, watching him, was certain he was trying to maneuver Sven into a position where the sun would be in his eyes. Surely Sven, veteran of combat that he was, would realize this too. But Sven was more interested in baiting Erik than in securing his position in preparation for battle.

 

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