Lord of the Mountains

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Lord of the Mountains Page 19

by Sabrina Jarema


  “It will be worth the expense in the long run.”

  “I know. If it takes down Toke, then the cost is worth it.”

  He helped her mount her horse. Asa, Nuallen, and a dozen of his best men joined her. As they rode into the valley, Magnus watched them. Any amount of gold and silver, no matter how much, was worth spending to protect her. He had already given her his heart. It would be nothing to give his life and all he possessed as well.

  * * *

  Magnus hadn’t been able to sleep earlier, and now it was her turn.

  Silvi lay awake, the moon’s rays cutting into the darkness of the bedchamber from above. Ingeborg, her mother, and she had spent the evening tending to the wounded, especially the man with the serious belly wound. They had sewn it shut and cauterized it with a red-hot knife blade, but who knew what was happening inside? Some blood and fluid still leaked out, and if it was not better by morning, then her mother and Ingeborg had agreed to try the myrrh.

  His moans rang in her mind. That could have been Magnus there. Or Eirik. It was only the grace of the wyrd, the fate, that had saved them. This time.

  Magnus hadn’t lessened his vigilance, so he must suspect Toke hadn’t given up. There might be more fighting, more injuries, more deaths. It was never ending. This was why she’d wanted to go to the temple, where all was peace and calm. Weapons weren’t even allowed on the sacred grounds. The horrors of the world didn’t dare interfere with the power of the gods.

  Love didn’t exist there either. At least not the type she felt for Magnus. Was it worth the pain if she lived with him for years to come, loving him, and he didn’t return it?

  She shifted onto her back. He was there, standing in the rays of the moon, looking at her. His hair was windblown and his clothes clung to his body, still damp, no doubt, from the fjord waters. With the light sculpting the contours of his face and arms, he looked like one of the gods. Powerful. Beautiful.

  She sat up, clutching the furs to her chest. Without speaking, he drew off his shirt and tossed it aside. He came to the bed and sat down beside her.

  “You didn’t take your hair down.”

  “I didn’t think of it.”

  “Good.” He leaned over and, cupping the back of her head, kissed her. “Lie down on your stomach.”

  She did as he said while he stood and pulled off his trousers. He was different tonight. Was it the aftermath of war? Had the battle stirred his warrior’s blood so he needed to conquer her, as well? She wouldn’t fight with him or refuse him. Not this night.

  Naked, he went to the table and picked up the comb. She peered at him from the pillow and her own pulse raced as warmth spread between her legs. He came to the bed, but this time, he moved over her, straddling her thighs. His weight held her down, but it didn’t matter. She was content where she was.

  He loosened her hair from its knot and ran the comb through the strands. “I don’t want any harsh words between us this night. Don’t say a word unless I ask you something. Do you understand?”

  “Then why can’t you be the one to stay silent?” She glanced at him over her shoulder.

  “Because then I couldn’t tell you how beautiful you are, how soft your skin is, and how much I want you.”

  He couldn’t mean those words. But if he spoke them, she could imagine he spoke the truth. His voice was harsh, low. It called to something deep within her and she nodded. She closed her eyes, giving herself up to him. When her hair lay smooth down her back, he set the comb aside.

  “Turn over.” He shifted so she could do as he said, then settled back on her thighs, keeping enough of his weight on his legs so he didn’t hurt her. He leaned over her, his arms on either side of her. “Tell me you want me, Silvi. If you do, then it’s the last decision you’ll make tonight. If you don’t, then I’ll let you rest. It’s your choice.”

  She wanted to cross her arms over herself, to guard her heart. “What kind of choice is it when you loom over me like this? You’re rather intimidating.”

  “Whether or not you understand it, you have all the power here. The power to say yes or no. The power to give me joy or pain. You, alone, hold this night in your hands.”

  She ran her fingers over the bandage on his arm and up to his heavy shoulders. They were like iron, but they trembled as she caressed them. His gaze on her was intense, his body as still as a bow string when it was drawn back, waiting for release.

  She let out her breath, and her doubts along with it. “Then, yes.”

  One side of his mouth curled up in a satisfied smile. Rising over her, he took her wrists in his hands and held them down on either side of her head, pressed into the mattress. His mouth slashed across hers and she returned his kiss full measure. She ran her leg along his thigh. He caught his breath.

  He rained kisses down her jaw and neck, then dipped lower. Fire shot through her as he nibbled the inside curve of her breast and she arched against him. How could he create such magic with just his mouth? She pulled at her wrists, wanting to touch him, explore him as he did her. He didn’t let her go.

  Instead, he took her breast into his mouth, rasping the tip with his tongue. She was helpless to stop him, but she didn’t want to. It felt too good to have him over her, touching her, awakening her. Warmth seeped through her, weakening her body. Her heart pounded. Even the air against her skin caressed her like a lover, leaving tingles in its wake.

  “Magnus . . .”

  “Hush. Say nothing. Do nothing. Feel everything.” He let go of her wrists, but slid his hands down to her waist and held her still. His mouth left a trail of fire down her stomach to the juncture of her thighs.

  When he touched her with his mouth, she gasped. She tried to sit up, but he held her in place. Then he ran his tongue along her tender skin, her most secret place, and she cried out, grabbing his hair. He ignored her and continued his sensual conquest.

  She had no weapons, no shields against him. Ever the strategist, he would know all her weaknesses and vulnerabilities. He was the ultimate warrior and he had vanquished her. There was nothing else to do but surrender. Closing her eyes, she opened herself to him.

  He turned his head and nibbled the inside of her thighs. Muscles quivered that she didn’t even know she had. How was she supposed to just lie still and let him do as he pleased? Her body was formed of lightning, and she could no more remain quiet than could a storm.

  Not caring if he grew displeased with her, she caressed his back with her heel. His wide shoulders held her legs apart, his hair spread across them. His hands spanned her waist.

  Pressure built within her. It began low, then climbed throughout her body. She threw her head back, writhing. Why was this happening? Was this the pleasure her mother had spoken of? But there was more . . . Somehow.

  He cupped her breasts, flicking the tips with his thumbs, and she fractured. She fell into a whirlpool of sensation, her body at its mercy. It swept her into a place she did not know, where all was light, ecstasy. And Magnus.

  His scent washed over her. Her lids were heavy, as if she’d just awakened. Kissing his way back up her body, he painted her skin with awareness—of her unexplored desires, of forgotten dreams, of a new world of belonging. She was his, completely, in every way. He spoke to yearnings so deep within her, she’d never seen them, never knew they existed. Not even in her visions. How could she have known about them before this? There was only one way she could have found them—Magnus.

  He moved over her, watching her, his eyes filled with a softness they’d not held before.

  “Now, you’re ready.”

  She almost couldn’t understand his words for the whirlwind in her mind. “There’s more?” Then she blushed. “Of course there is. You haven’t sought your own pleasure yet.”

  “I fully intend to. But I’m bringing you along with me.” He ran his hand between her legs and she cried out as her body clenched. “You have to trust me. There might be a small pain for a moment. But after this, there’ll be only pleasure.” />
  His eyes never leaving hers, he guided himself to her. She gripped his arms tight, expecting him to plunge into her hard, as she had seen done before. He lowered his mouth to hers, kissed her, and slid into her in one exquisite, sublime movement.

  There was a slight pinch, then it was only fullness, completion. Motionless, he studied her. “Beautiful. Passionate. Mine.” He ran his hand over her face as though he’d never seen her before, his eyes alight with joy. “Wrap your legs around me.” As she did so, he gathered her hair in his hand and held her with it. He supported his weight on his other arm and pressed into her.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Oh yes.” And she was. As he moved inside her, the pressure built again. This time, she understood it and welcomed it. She met his thrusts, embracing him with all she was, burying her head in his chest. His head tilted back and his hair flowed over his arms and shoulders, dark as the shadows around them.

  He let go of her hair and took her wrists. He raised them above her head and held them there with one hand. With his other hand, he cupped her cheek, his touch gentle. “I think you want this. It’s the way I am. In this way, we’re made for each other.”

  What did he mean? His hands tightened on her wrists, but not so much that it hurt. Just enough so she understood his control over her. She pulled, trying to free herself, to touch him as he had caressed her, but he held her, moving faster and harder, his eyes boring into hers. Heat rushed through her, like an inferno engulfing a pyre. She was on that pyre, the flames sending her up to the gods themselves. Like a flurry of sparks, she rose up into the darkness, brilliant and burning. And he was the wind lifting her.

  “Now, Silvi.” At his command, she shuddered around him as he poured himself into her with a groan. The sparks dissipated in a radiant burst.

  He collapsed onto her, then shifted off of her, freeing her wrists. Rolling onto his back, he brought her with him so she lay on him. His heart beat under her ear, his breathing matching hers. Even though they were no longer joined together, they were one.

  “Now, you’re truly mine. In the eyes of both the gods and men.” He kissed the top of her head. “You’re so perfect for me, Silvi. Your body fits mine, and your gentleness complements my strength. You gave yourself so completely into my care, that I can give in to my true nature with you.”

  She raised her head to look at him. “You said something like that earlier. I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “I’m a warrior, Silvi. I take. Yes, I trade and barter for what I need instead of raiding, but I still win. I still want to be victorious over the other merchant I’m trading with, getting the better bargain. I made the arrangement with your brother with the intention of winning. You. And I did. Now you’re mine, and what is mine, I keep. It’s my nature to control and conquer, the same as any of our people do. In here, I want you in my care, doing as I wish so that I can give you all the pleasure I can. I sense in you the counterpart to me. That you want me to guide you and show you all the ways we can come together.”

  “There are other ways?” She slipped to his side and rested her chin on his chest.

  He chuckled. “Oh yes.”

  “And you want me to do as you say.”

  “It’s a dream I have.” He grinned.

  She gave his arm a light smack. “Magnus, I’ve gone my own way much of my life. I always knew I was separate, destined to tread a different path. It is not easy for me to follow a course that others lay out for me.”

  “I’ve noticed that.” He took her wrist and ran his thumb along it. “Just in here, Silvi. Out there, you’ll drive me to drink, no doubt, and make me pull my hair out until I’m bald. I’ll be forever chasing you across the mountain as you flit just out of my reach.

  “But in here, when it’s you and I alone, let me be as I am. Let me bring you to new places you’ve never dreamed of. If not, then neither you nor I will know true completion. If you let me care for you as I want to, and do as I wish, then there’s no place we cannot go, no mountain we cannot climb.”

  Making love with him had been like nothing she’d ever imagined. Even with everything her mother had told her, she’d only hinted at the pleasure, the stars, the fire that had poured through her. Or was she the only one who felt that way? If the love in Asa’s eyes when she was with Eirik was any sign, she wasn’t alone. Maybe she should talk to her, wife to wife. She didn’t know Asa well, but she was family now. Talking about this with her mother would be mortifying, but Asa was of an age with her and newly married as well.

  Magnus brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. “Remember what I said. You hold the power. When you’re strong enough to give yourself to me completely, and trust me, then everything I do is for your pleasure. I’ll do nothing to harm you. Ever.”

  “And what do you get out of this?”

  “You.”

  She blinked at him. And ships. But she didn’t say it. “This night you gave me the choice. You’re my husband and you have the right to me. You gain only what you already hold.”

  “Your body, yes. I have the right to that. Did I take it before now? Even though I could have, and none would have faulted me for it? No. Because I want so much more with you and from you.”

  He gathered her closer. She rested her head on him with a sigh.

  “I’ve given you much to think on this night. We should sleep. In the nights to come, I’ll make it easier for you to decide. I promise.”

  “And of course, you’ll be very diligent to do everything you can to help me come to the conclusion you want.”

  “Of course. Never let it be said I shirked my responsibilities to be a helpmeet to my wife.”

  She smiled, but as she moved, a twinge caught her. She was a bit sore. Would there be any other signs that she had lost her virginity?

  Shifting, she saw a dark spot on the sheet. Magnus looked at it as well.

  She winced. “You don’t think the washerwomen will believe I had two wedding nights, do you?”

  He pulled her back down with a laugh. “I think my, oh, exertions just now, opened the wound on my arm again and it bled a bit. We’ll have to change the bandage in the morning.”

  “And it will be miraculously healed by tomorrow night?”

  “Maybe even by morning.” He nipped her hand and brought it to his chest, keeping hold of it.

  “I hope you heal fast, Magnus.”

  “Oh, I will. Believe me, for this, I will.”

  * * *

  As the three longships neared the mouth of their fjord, Silvi leaned on the dragonhead prow. Magnus stood behind her. They’d spent the day sailing in the main fjord as Leif and their men studied how the ships responded to the wind and the currents. It was critical to understand how each ship handled at a moment’s notice, in the event they were attacked. Magnus seemed pleased and Silvi smiled with pride. After all, the vessels represented her and her family.

  They sped into their own branch of the fjord and approached the shore. The three ships slid up onto the beach together. As the men jumped off to help pull the vessels up farther, Magnus swung his leg over the side and vaulted off.

  He stood in the water and held out his arms, grinning. “Trust me?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Not when you have that expression on your face. But if I jump off by myself, I’ll end up soaked anyhow.” She edged off the side and landed in his arms. “Just once, I’d like to leap off like I’ll wager Asa does.”

  “When you wear a tunic and leggings like she does, you’re welcome to try.” He walked with her onto the sand and set her on her feet.

  She stood to the side as he issued orders and made certain the ships were secured to the great boulders used for mooring. When he was satisfied all was the way he wanted it, he helped her onto her horse. Leif joined them, along with most of the men, and they headed into the valley.

  Before they reached the path leading to Thorsfjell, a rider on a small, shaggy horse galloped toward them.

  Magnus
signaled her to stay with him. “It’s the sheepherder. He keeps the flocks farther down the valley.”

  The rider, a round-faced, heavy man, stopped in front of them. He panted as though he’d run all the way instead of the horse.

  “What is it, Ofeig?”

  “The sheep, my jarl. They’re dying. It only now started happening. I was heading for the village to tell you, but I saw you riding here.”

  “Did they eat something poisonous?”

  “I check the pastures all the time, Jarl Magnus. My boys do, as well. We make certain nothing could hurt them.”

  “Let me see them.” They all looked at Silvi as she spoke. “Many of the same things that poison people also poison animals. And often, the remedies are the same. I know of such things from my mother.”

  “Take us there, Ofeig.” Magnus urged his horse forward and she followed, the others taking up the rear.

  When she saw the dead and dying sheep scattered over the pastures, her heart fell. She rode to the nearest sheep. Magnus swung off his horse and helped her down. She knelt beside the animal. It was still alive, but it trembled, and its breathing was hard and shallow. Putting her hand on the inside of its hind leg, she felt for its pulse. The heartbeat was slow. A memory tickled the back of her mind.

  She went to the next sheep. It was dead, vomit by its mouth. She studied the contents, pushing it with a stick. “Oh gods. This makes no sense.” She ran to another one that was still alive, opened its mouth and reached inside. Short, dark, needle-like leaves came out on her hand as she pulled it free.

  Magnus helped her up. “What is it?”

  “Someone has given them yew plants to eat.”

  “That only grows in the south. Not here.”

  “I know. Someone did this purposely. The dried plants are just as deadly as the fresh ones are. If the yew was collected and dried late in the year, it’s even more toxic.”

  “How long ago would they have done this?”

  “Not long at all. It works quickly. An animal can be standing one moment and dead the next. Because many of these sheep are still alive, I’m hoping they didn’t eat as much and have a little time. Also, the younger sheep are more susceptible.” She regarded the distraught sheepherder.

 

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