The Quest for Gillian’s Heart

by The Quest for Gillian’s Heart (lit)

  "Over here." Egil waved Andor to the circle where Leif’s hearing had taken place. The two slaves were bound to one of the posts. They looked tired and in sad need of a bath.

  Andor could smell them long before he reached them. He couldn’t remember their names - neither was the big, ugly one Seamus called Shane.

  "We caught them trying to steal chickens at a nearby farm," Egil told him. "The other two got away."

  Andor stood before the bedraggled pair. "What have you done to my wife?"

  Neither man replied.

  "I have no time for games. Strip their clothes away and tie them to the whipping posts," Andor told one of Egil’s men. Then to the Irishmen, he added, "I will know where my wife has been taken, even if I have to beat the information out of you."

  "Wake the whip handler," Egil added. "Have him bring the cat."

  "He is not to use it until I give the word." With a flick of his hand, Andor motioned for the men to be taken away. He waited a few minutes then turned to follow.

  Rollo was behind him, but Andor gave him no more than a glance as he passed by. From the corner of his eye he saw Freyda hurrying toward them. Andor walked on - he would deal with one problem at a time.

  Torches lined the circle, casting light over the two Irishmen staked in the center. They were nude now. Their pale backs glistened in the light. Andor was content to wait while they anticipated their fate. The crowd grew as word filtered among the assembly. The whip handler passed his time with cups of hot tea to ward off the night’s chill. Andor kept his gaze on the men, obtaining some measure of satisfaction when they began to shiver.

  "Douse them each with a bucket of cold water," he said.

  The whip handler scooped the buckets from a nearby barrel and tossed it over the men. Their gasping cries cut the air as they raised on tiptoe to try to avoid the water.

  "My wife...where is she?" Andor demanded to know.

  "Ya can’t do this," the one on the left shouted. "We be freemen."

  "By whose edict? Leif’s?" Andor gave them no chance to answer. "You are slaves. My slaves by law. You have kidnapped my wife and were caught thieving. You know the penalty. Do not make matters worse by continuing to lie. Seamus, who are these men?"

  "Dougall’s on the left. Brian’s on the right."

  "We shall start with Dougall then. Since he is uncertain of his status, we will remind him. Give him ten to start. Perhaps Brian’s memory will clear," Andor said.

  The whip handler sliced the cat-o’-nine-tails through the air, testing its weight before he started his job.

  "Wait!" Dougall shouted. "I’ll be tellin’ ya where she is!"

  Andor raised his arm. "Hold...Where?"

  "We took her to Master Leif in the valley near the volcano. ‘Twas Shane’s plan, not ours."

  "Yet you helped by trying to kill her guard. Where are your friends?"

  "We don’t know," Brian said. "We was starvin’. They took off when we was caught stealin’ chickens."

  "Then you admit to stealing the chickens."

  "Yes," they replied.

  "And my wife?"

  "Yes."

  Andor turned to the whip handler. "Beat them thoroughly from shoulder to ankle, but leave no scar. Scarred slaves are not so easy to sell. Egil, I need some men to ride with me now."

  "Done and done. I will personally be by your side."

  "As will I," Rollo said.

  Andor scowled. "‘Twill not be necessary."

  "I vowed I would not rest until Gillian was found."

  "Yes, I have seen how you have passed your free moments," Andor replied. "Pray we find her soon so you might truly rest."

  He spun around and stormed to his horse.

  "He makes it very difficult to be civil," Rollo said to Freyda.

  She uncurled his fist and laced her fingers through his. "Losing Gillian has made him unreasonable. Once she is found...safe...all will be well."

  "For your sake, I hope so."

  "Come, if you intend to." Without waiting, Andor turned his horse in the direction of the volcano.

  Gillian was amazed what a man could accomplish when he had the will. In two full days Leif had thrown together a sturdy little two-room sod shelter for them. This morning he was out with the sunrise plowing a field. The provisions, tools, animals, and seed were those taken from his own farm, or rather - Andor’s new farm. He had apparently helped himself while he waited for her to be delivered to him.

  Since their agreement Leif had worked harder than Gillian had heard was typical of him. He believed she had used her witch’s power to give him strength. He worked because he thought he could not fail with a witch on his side. Gillian knew he would never believe it was his own doing.

  She was grateful for his belief and his preoccupation with work. He had been too tempted by the promise of success to threaten her in any way.

  Gillian, however, was not willing to take any chances, especially at night. Although, he kept to his room, she dozed with her scissors in her hand. It was a small weapon...hardly enough to cause death...but it was all she had. Leif refused to give her a knife, even for cooking.

  Gillian heard horses pound up just outside the house. Her heart was suspended in time as she ran to the door. It was Andor finally come to rescue her, just as she knew he would.

  Nothing could describe her disappointment when she saw it was only Shane and McKenzie. Leif hurried over, and Gillian hovered nearby to see why they had returned.

  "Ya told us we could get safe passage out," Shane yelled. "But ya didn’t let on there were no ships to leave on."

  Leif mopped the sweat from his brow then slammed the dirty cloth to the ground. "That is not my concern."

  "Ya’d best be makin’ it yer concern. Ya lied to us," McKenzie roared. "Now we’re runnin’ fer our lives. We got no food, no shelter, and no way off this place."

  "What do you mean running for your lives?" Leif asked.

  "We was starvin’ and stopped by a farm. We was caught stealin’ chickens," Shane said. "Dougall and Brian weren’t so lucky. We followed fer aways to see if we could help. They was taken to that big meetin’. Her husband," he jerked his thumb toward Gillian, "had them tied to the whippin’ post."

  "We didn’t stay to see the rest," McKenzie said.

  "Fools!" Leif darted past them to a wooded knoll a short distance away. He had barely disappeared into the sparse stand of trees before running back.

  "You were followed!"

  He leaped onto Shane’s horse and reached for Gillian. "Come here."

  She backed away. Andor was too close. There was no way she was going to cave in to Leif’s demands.

  "What do ya want her fer?" Shane demanded to know. "She’ll only be slowin’ us down."

  He grabbed for the horse’s reins, and Leif drew his sword. Gillian could hear hoofbeats pounding closer to them. A cloud of dust hovered skyward. The three men whirled around.

  Shane jerked on the bridle. "Give me my horse!"

  "I give you nothing!" Leif slashed his sword at the burly Irishman.

  Gillian didn’t wait to see the outcome. With Shane’s first cry of pain and outrage, the first rider appeared over the knoll. She picked up her skirts and ran to Andor.

  Andor urged his horse to a faster gallop. Elation that Gillian was still alive was replaced with determination to keep her that way. Yet the instant he saw her break away and run toward him, all he wanted to do was reach her. He cared not that Leif and the other Irishmen were getting away - he wanted only her.

  With tears blinding her eyes, Gillian raised her arms to Andor. Suddenly she was airborne, in a grasp so tight she could not breathe. She was vaguely conscious of the horse slowing of its own accord as Andor’s lips devoured hers.

  Andor glanced up. Rollo tended to Shane’s wounds. The rest of the party gave chase.

  "I thank the gods you are still alive," he breathlessly told her when they finally pulled apart.

  Gillian’s fingers fluttered over hi
s face. "I knew you would come for me. ‘Twas never a doubt in my mind."

  He kissed her again, probing deeply. Again they pulled apart short of breath. He dropped tiny kisses along her jawline and down her neck.

  "I thought I would never see you again. Never hold you again. If the bastard hurt you, I swear I...."

  Gillian placed her fingers over his lips. "He hurt me naught."

  Andor kissed each finger, then her palm...her wrist...her arm. "I will carry you home this very minute. Away from here and safe in our home."

  "I am safe wherever you are with me," she said. "Take me home soon, but for now...please love me...just this once."

  They slid off the horse together. Before Gillian’s feet could touch the ground, Andor scooped her into his arms and carried her inside. His instincts took him to her tiny room. Gillian didn’t stop to think what his actions might mean. All she cared about was that he was here and she was safe. He kicked the door shut, enclosing them in darkness.

  "No," Gillian softly said, "I want to see you."

  He set her down, and Gillian struck a spark to an oil lamp near the door. Its glow threw their shadowy images against the walls of the room.

  "Love me now," she whispered, and reached for his sword belt. With one tug, belt and sword clattered to the dirt floor.

  Andor reached for her, but she ducked away to slither her fingers under his kirtle. His skin broke out in goosebumps when her nails grazed his chest as she tried to lift the garment over his head. When she reached his shoulders, he helped her the rest of the way then dropped his arms around her. He balled her shift in his hands and pulled it over her head, tunic, brooches, and utensils still attached.

  Gillian pressed against his chest. Through the carpet of blond fur, her tongue sought out his dark, flat nipples. She traced wet circles around each.

  Andor sucked in a sharp breath, a low moan accompanied its exhalation. Gillian traveled lower, raining kisses down the hardened plane to his navel. There she paused only long enough to loosen the drawstring of his trousers. She exposed him quickly, then arched back her head to nestle the velvet length in the valley of her breasts while her fingers kneaded his taut buttocks.

  Passion weakened Andor so much that his knees threatened to buckle while he tried to step out of his trousers. When he finally accomplished that feat, he felt the warmth of her mouth surround him. It was too much to bear. He felt a surge and yanked her back.

  Those dark blue eyes of hers rolled up to his. "I want you," she breathlessly exclaimed, and crawled back to her sleeping pallet.

  Andor slipped into her open arms, his lips seeking hers as she nuzzled against him. He longed to explore her thoroughly. To memorize her body all over again. To excite her to that same fever pitch she had led him to. And he would have done so if it hadn’t been for those slender calves that wound around his waist. When he tried to resist, Gillian dug her heels into his buttocks, urging him on. With one hard thrust, liquid fire enveloped him.

  Gillian tossed back her head in a straggled cry and rocked against him. She needed this. One last union. A joining so wondrous she would remember it the rest of her days. She breathed soft obscenities into his ear, beckoning him until the pallet began to tear from the pounding their bodies gave it.

  His hand slipped under her to lift her higher. Gillian arched against him. Teeth grazed her nipple, seconds later he suckled it deeply. A white hot explosion ripped through her pelvis. She ground her teeth in a vain attempt to keep her noise down, but the feeling was too great. She gasped, and Andor’s mouth fell upon hers. Together they let the ending close upon them while their sounds echoed in the warmth of each other’s mouths.

  All too soon it was past. Gillian wanted to cry at the unfairness of it. She wanted to cling to him and beg him to never leave. In the end she said only one thing.

  "I want to go home now. Please take me home."

  Andor brushed back the coppery hair which framed her face. It wounded his heart to see her suddenly so sad. He wondered if she regretted this moment because of the fear of having another child. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Instead he dropped a kiss to her lips.

  "Soon, love. Soon."

  * * *

  CHAPTER 12

  Northland, Late Springs, 890 a.d.

  Although they had not been able to start for home as soon as Andor had hoped, once they were on their way he found himself wishing they could postpone the trip until morning. Riding double was normally no problem for him and Gillian. In fact, they enjoyed it. But the distance they had to travel was too long for comfort.

  There was also the problem of exhaustion. Since he had not slept in her absence, now that she was safe within his arms he was finding it nearly impossible to stay awake. He noticed by the way Gillian’s head kept drooping to his shoulder that she was having similar problems.

  Halfway to their destination, Shane died from the wounds Leif inflicted. Andor coldly considered his death saved him from having to have the man disciplined. Burying him gave the party a well-deserved break. Andor wished they could camp the night just for some decent sleep, but with Leif and the other slave still loose it would be a foolhardy decision, even if they did have a large show of force. Larger groups of men had fallen before to determined men on the run. He knew it was only a matter of time before Leif and McKenzie were caught. They couldn’t survive without stealing from one of the farms, and there wasn’t a homestead which did not know of Leif’s banishment.

  "Mount up," Egil said after the dirt was packed over Shane’s remains. "If we keep up a steady pace, we can reach the Thing shortly after nightfall."

  "The Thing? I thought we were heading home," Gillian said to Andor.

  It was Rollo who replied. "We must fetch Freyda and the others. ‘Twould be foolish for you and Andor to be at the farm without the rest of us to help guard you."

  Gillian nodded her understanding and let Andor set her atop the horse. When he was seated behind her, she nestled against the cushion of his body.

  "Why not let Gillian ride the empty horse," Rollo suggested.

  "No," she abruptly replied.

  "She is too tired," Andor snapped. "Can you not see that? Is that not true, Gillian?"

  She nodded against his chest. She was tired. Nights of little sleep during her captivity and the week preceding made her so. But she was not so weary she could not manage to sit a horse. The real truth was that she simply did not want to give up being close to Andor, and would use any excuse to keep that comfort.

  Rollo’s lips thinned in an effort to control his rising anger. "I only sought to help you and her."

  Andor arched a brow. "As you helped yourself to my sister?"

  Gillian’s head popped up. What was happening here? Not only was Andor’s voice dripping with animosity, but Rollo looked ready to hack Andor into pieces.

  "You speak bravely when there is a woman in front of you," Rollo said.

  Before Gillian could blink an eye, both men were on the ground, swords drawn. She slid down and took a stance between them.

  "Here now. What is all this?" she scolded. "We have enough to worry about without the two of you coming to blows. You are friends as close as brothers. Why all this?" She gestured toward the swords. "Put them away now or I will not budge past this point."

  With reluctance, or relief, Gillian couldn’t tell which, they sheathed their swords. There was a definite, collective sigh of relief from the rest of the men who gathered a short distance away.

  "Now." Gillian poised hands on hips. "What might be the cause of this sudden feud?"

  "I caught him bedding Freyda," Andor said through gritted teeth.

  "Without her consent?" Gillian asked.

  "Well...no."

  "And I will bet ‘twas not without honorable intent. Is that not so, Rollo?"

  "‘Tis true. I have asked her to wed me. She would not if being with me made her ache all the more for Olaf. That was the reason for last eve," Rollo said. "She wishes to take her time de
ciding."

  "And in the meantime she behaves like a trollop," Andor snapped.

  A second later he was flat out on his back, unconscious.

  Gillian cradled his head on her lap. "I know ‘twas deserving, but did you have to hit him so hard?"

  Rollo rubbed his knuckles as he stared down at Andor. "When he comes to, perhaps he will have regained his senses. I will ride ahead and prepare our camp for the journey. Perhaps you can help him see that he is not the only one who deserves to be with the one he loves."

  Without another word, Rollo mounted his horse and galloped away.

  Gillian smoothed Andor’s hair away from his brow. Until he came around there was little more she or any of the other men could do. With Egil by her side, they waited. After a few minutes, Andor shook his head clear.

  "Can you ride?" Egil asked.

  Andor gingerly tested his jaw. "Aye."

  "Then we should get to it."

  Still rubbing his jaw, Andor settled himself and Gillian back on his horse.

  "That was indeed a foolhardy thing you did," Gillian said as they rode on. "To rile a man as big as Rollo is just the same as trying to kill yourself. And for what...because Freyda sought love."

  "‘Twas not love she sought," he grumbled. "And we will speak no more of this. ‘Tis not your place to tell me how to deal with my sister."

  Gillian stiffened. She knew the separation had to come at some point, but it didn’t ease the pain any less. He had firmly put her in her place. She was no longer to be considered part of his family. Her views were unwelcome.

  It was better to begin now. A gradual easing away at first, then a complete break. She hated not knowing when that moment would come, but she couldn’t bring herself to make the break herself. Gillian tried to believe she merely was trying to keep his good will. The truth was, she was hanging on to him as long as possible - no matter how painful.

  "Will you relax?" he snapped. "You sit as if you were tied to a pole. ‘Tis very difficult to ride with you this way."

  Gillian forced herself to lean against him, and while she was sure it made the riding easier, it only made her more aware that her husband would soon belong to another.