The Blooded Ones

Home > Other > The Blooded Ones > Page 45
The Blooded Ones Page 45

by Elizabeth Brown


  Winn was standing with Chetan when she returned, and she noticed Makedewa standing in the corner with a sulking look on his face. She wondered what she had missed. Her husband gave her no time to think further on it, slipping his hand around hers. His fingers twisted into hers, and he squeezed her gently as he raised her knuckles to his lips for a kiss.

  “Kwetii?” he asked. She reached over and kissed the edge of his jaw as he pulled her close.

  “She’s fine. Winn?” she asked. She needed to tell him of Benjamin’s visit, but when her husband looked down at her with soft eyes and a curious stare, she decided it could wait.

  “What is it, ntehem?”

  She watched the dancers swirling in circles, their laughter nearly as raucous as the music and drums.

  “Nothing,” she answered. “I think I owe Jarl Dagr a dance.”

  Winn’s lips brushed her forehead and he released her.

  “I will watch. But only him. I will share you with no other,” he murmured. She caught the hint of strain in his blue eyes, but it was a glimmer quickly passed and replaced with a smile. She turned back and kissed him square on the mouth before she danced away, leaving him with a grin on his face.

  Maggie left Kwetii in the care of Rebecca the next morning while she prepared to join the women gathering wool. She asked Gwen why they didn’t just shear the sheep, but when Gwen took her to the ridge overlooking the valley where they could see the herd, Maggie understood why. The Norse kept no ordinary sheep. The beasts were twice the size of any she had ever seen, with long, stringy hair and thick bulbous heads adorned with curling ram-like horns. It was easier, and safer, to gather the tufts of wool they left behind each morning than to try to procure it otherwise. Gwen said they all came from three surviving breeding stock that made the first time-travel journey with them to Virginia. She clammed up after that revelation, and Maggie made a mental note to take it up with Marcus. She wanted to know everything about their past, and she was fair tired of everyone acting like it was a taboo subject.

  She poked her head inside the door to the Long House Teyas and Rebecca shared with a few other women. Teyas was alone in the house, rolling up garments and placing them in a carrying sack, her long black hair falling loose around her shoulders as she worked.

  “Are you coming up to the ridge? Rebecca will stay with Kwetii. I thought we would walk together,” Maggie said.

  “Go without me, sister. I must pack if I wish to say goodbye before we leave.”

  Maggie bent down and gently took her hand. Tears ran down the younger woman’s face, but she would not raise her red-rimmed brown eyes.

  “What are you talking about?” Maggie asked.

  “My mother and father have arranged a marriage. Winn will take me to the Nansemond village today. Did he not tell you?” Teyas said.

  Maggie shook her head, biting down hard on her lower lip.

  “He can’t do that. He wouldn’t,” she replied.

  “It is his duty, as it is mine,” Teyas said softly as she closed the sack.

  “But without duty, would you still go?”

  Teyas bowed her head. Maggie clasped her hands, and they clung together as she cried.

  “I am happy to know I will be a wife soon,” Teyas insisted through her tears. Maggie held her as she cried, stifling her own tears in her sister’s hair. Not only was Teyas being taken away, her husband had willfully kept that information from her. Maggie felt the surge of anger and helplessness that often accompanied her through such times. Although Teyas knew she grieved, Teyas could not truly comprehend the anger Maggie felt at the woman being forced into a marriage with a man she did not know. To Teyas, it was a part of life. To Maggie, it was unfathomable.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Maggie insisted.

  “No! Keep silent, this is no matter for you. You know this!” Teyas said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I am too many summers to go on without a husband. I am lucky Osawas will have me.”

  “He is the lucky one!” Maggie snapped. Teyas smiled.

  “I hear he is brave. Winn says he has fought with our uncle.”

  Maggie flinched at the mention of Opechancanough. He was the last Indian she wished to run into again, yet her family remained tied to him as if bound by shackles instead of blood. Even though she shared her knowledge of the future with her husband, Winn still retained his loyalty to his uncle and felt it best to stay in his favor. Maggie suspected this marriage pact was part of keeping that favor with the tribe, and it stoked her anger to see her husband offer his sister up for the taking. She still did not truly understand the way the Powhatan lived, and she stumbled over embracing their traditions, especially when it came to the role of women and men in society. It was just one more issue driving a wedge between them.

  “Where will you live?” Maggie asked. She already knew it would not be with them. It was unlikely Osawas would be willing to leave his tribe to stay with their exiled family, so much so that it was not worth mentioning.

  “I know not. My mother lives with Pepamhu now at Mattanock, she is first wife since his old wife died, Winn says. But Osawas is Weanock. Perhaps they will send us to live with his people.”

  “Isn’t that far? A five-day ride, at least!”

  Teyas made an attempt to smile, but it came out bitter and strained. “Yes, at least that much,” she said.

  “I’ll–I’ll go with you. I’ll go pack now,” Maggie said. Teyas grabbed Maggie’s hand.

  “He says you must stay here, with Kwetii. He does not trust the Weanock as he does the Nansemond. He fears for your safety.”

  “Oh, really? He said that?”

  Teyas nodded, her eyes downcast.

  “Help me pack, sister,” Teyas whispered.

  Maggie handed her another traveling sack. After they finished, Teyas set off to find the women, and Maggie left her to find Winn. With woolgathering temporarily forgotten, and her temper inflamed at her husband keeping information from her, she struggled to slow her breathing before she confronted him.

  Was she angrier with him, or with herself? She still needed to tell him of the conversation with Benjamin, but the longer she put it off, the more difficult it was to bring up. Even more important was the news of the babe growing within her, which she was also at loss to reveal. Now with the issue of Teyas clouding her thoughts, she felt like her control over everything was slipping away.

  She found him at the ridge, standing with Erich and Marcus, and surprisingly, Benjamin. The brothers stood well apart, however, and did not appear to be engaging in conversation with each other, but even to see them standing on the same patch of soil was enough to give her pause.

  Winn wore a lightweight tunic over tight braies like his kinsmen, his new sword protruding from a harness strapped across his back. She noticed he had new boots as well, knee-high leather bound covered with thick fur, with tough soles that protected his feet better than the moccasins did. Unlike some of the other natives, Winn took easily to trying new things, which Maggie suspected was part of his upbringing. His uncle raised him to be an informant, living among the English and various Indian tribes, learning what he could and acclimating to their ways. Winn had a resultant comfort with change, and although he usually migrated back to his breechcloth and leggings, he was willing to try anything once. Seeing him dressed like the others, especially Marcus, gave her a pang of homesickness.

  Winn belonged there with his kin, yet soon they would leave.

  “What brings ye up here, my lady?” Erich asked when he spotted her trudging up the hill. She lifted the skirt of her gunna above her ankles as she reached the peak, panting a bit with the effort. It was steep rise. Now that she stood next to Erich, it took her breath away. Swirling below was an inlet, with white-capped waves crashing over silvery boulders and the screams of seagulls warning them away from their nests. She clutched her arms around her waist when a breeze whipped up and her hair rippled back off her face.

  “Looking for my husband,” she s
aid, stretching her head to peer over the side of the ledge. Winn closed his hand over her wrist.

  “You found me. Go back down, I will return soon,” he said. His words were abrupt and his grip on her arm was firm. She noticed Winn glanced at the others, and an unspoken word passed between him and the men. Whatever man scheming they were up to, she would hear it, whether now or later. With her curiosity speeding into overdrive, she tried to pull her wrist away from Winn.

  “What’s down there?” she asked. She stood on her toes and arched her chin over Winn’s shoulder, then pulled back with a gasp when she glimpsed the curve of a ship’s bow. “Was that a ship down there? Did you build it? What–”

  “Aye, a ship, my lady. No need to worry ye, we’ll no sail yet. Yer husband here must grow his sea-legs first before we set out,” Erich answered. She saw Winn’s jaw tighten and he shot a tense glare at Erich. Benjamin remained silent, observing from afar, but Marcus intervened in his typical overbearing manner. She was rapidly losing patience with his new disposition.

  “Go back down, girl. This is no talk fer women!” Marcus snapped.

  Maggie’s fists shook as she clenched them tight against her sides. He had never spoken to her in such a way before, and she did not like it one bit. First Winn had betrayed her by planning to take Teyas away. Then Marcus treated her as if she had no worth at all. It was much more than her pride could handle.

  “Did you really just say that to me?” she shrieked. “I’m no girl, and I’ll damn well go where I want to, and I– oh, damn it, Winn! Put me down!” she screamed as her husband scooped her into his arms. He spared her the indignity of tossing her over his shoulder, but being carried like a child was just as humiliating. She uttered a slew of curses at him the entire way back to the Long House, where he deposited her, still screeching, into a heap on their bed platform. When he released her, she immediately jumped to her feet, but he took her by both arms and pushed her firmly back down.

  “Enough!” he shouted. “You cannot speak to Jarl Dagr like that!”

  “Yes, I can!” she insisted.

  “Do you have no shame? If you were any other woman–”

  “I’ve known him my whole life, I won’t act like he’s some–some King!” she spat.

  “He is! He is Chief to these people! He deserves your respect!” He stared hard into her eyes. “You knew him in a different time, in that future you were born to! That means nothing when you stand here, in this time! You are no equal to him!”

  “And to you? Am I your equal? Or do I mean nothing to you as well?” she asked, glaring at him as her breath came shallow and rapid.

  “You are my wife.”

  “What if you had been the one to travel, Winn? What if you ended up in my time? Would you just keep your mouth shut and do what everyone else told you, and never ask any questions? I feel like I have no control of anything, like we could all be killed at any moment, and what can I do about it? Sit here like a fool, waiting for you men to give me permission to act!”

  “Do you think I would let harm come to you? To our daughter? Have I not proved that to you?” he asked. His voice was strained, she could hear the edge of hurt betrayed in it. She had not meant to question his manhood, yet she could see the mere suggestion grated at him.

  “No. I didn’t say that. I just meant–”

  “You think I cannot keep you safe in this time. Is it so safe, where you came from, years from now? Are there no wars, no fighting? Do all men live in peace in this wondrous place?” he asked.

  She shook her head. How could she make him understand, without wounding him further?

  “No, it’s not perfect. But I had a home, one where I felt safe when I slept at night. Men didn’t kill each other without consequence. I never saw such things, until I came here, Winn.”

  “Do you wish to return there?”

  “No,” she whispered. “Of course not.”

  “Then stay here, until I come for you. I will be back. Do not leave this Long House!” he warned.

  “Why? Why should I?” she asked. Did her words have no meaning to him, and would he ever truly understand her fears? She doubted it as he tossed yet another ultimatum at her, as if he dared her to challenge him. “Once again, more orders! Why can’t I go to the ridge?”

  “Because I tell you to! You need no other reason!” he roared, punching his fist into the furs beside her. She did not flinch, but she struggled to maintain even breaths as he stared into her eyes. He trapped her between his arms, leaning over her on the platform, his eyes wild.

  “What are you men hiding up there?” she whispered.

  “It does not concern you.”

  “Like you taking Teyas away does not concern me?”

  She thought she saw a flicker in his gaze, but it was only for a moment.

  “Yes. It does not concern you,” he growled.

  “You’re taking Teyas away, to be married, and you won’t even take me with you? You’re an ass!”

  He shoved away from the platform, leaving her panting for air. She watched him stalk to the doorway as if he meant to leave, then abruptly turn back to her.

  “You. Will. Be here. When I return,” he said evenly, advancing closer with each uttered syllable. She could see the fire reaching his blue eyes, smoldering beneath his thick dark brows. She raised her chin a notch in defiance.

  “I will leave if I want to,” she whispered. He was closer, his chest nearly touching hers when she exhaled.

  “Then I will tie you,” he replied. She shuddered.

  “Try it,” she said, her words much braver than she actually felt. She regretted taunting him, and wished desperately to take back their discord, yet the damage was done and they were too far gone to stop. His hands darted out for her and she slapped at him, lurching backward to get away. He was quicker, easily catching her, but she was lithe as well and twisted in his grasp until they stumbled onto the platform with a thud.

  She felt her hip strike the wood edge and the sting of tears at the pain as the breath rushed from her lungs, his body pinning hers to the furs. Her legs and arms were useless, since this was not the first time they had battled and he knew her tricks well. Her head, however, was still free, and when she shook it she made contact with his with a sickening crack. He let out a frustrated groan and she took the opportunity to scramble away. She turned onto her belly and crawled further from him, but he yanked her back a moment later, dashing her escape. He tossed her over onto her back and held her with one hand, glaring at her as blood dripped from his eyebrow.

  “Are you finished?” he growled. She was panting shallow, trying to catch her breath.

  “Get off of me!”

  “No,” he replied, his breaths coming hard and fast. As much as she would like to end their argument, she could not silence the angry words that spilled from her mouth.

  “Tie me up then, if you must. Just do it, and go,” she whispered.

  She closed her eyes when he pulled the cord from her waist and used it to bind her wrists, leaving her hands tied and useless. He then sat up and moved away from her, resting his arms over his knees as he looked toward the door. She stared at the outline of his back and tried to catch her breath, noting he was just as winded as she.

  “Obey me, wife,” he finally said. “I cannot stay here. They expect me to return.”

  “Then go,” she said softly. She saw his shoulders sag as he let out a shallow sigh. From where she lay beside him on the furs, she could not see his face, but she could see his head bowed onto his knees and the outline of his tense jaw. “Take Teyas away. Keep your secrets. I’m just your wife. I know what that means.”

  His back stiffened.

  “You break me, wife,” he said, his voice hoarse and low as he turned back to her. He pulled her into his arms, his eyes shimmering beneath narrowed brows. “You know what it means? It means I want you, as I want water when my lips thirst. As I want food when I have hunger. But this need, this need I have for you–it breaks me. It takes
the breath from my chest. It drains the blood from my veins and the spirit from my soul. I cannot be, unless I can be here with you, like this. With our flesh touching and your heart beating here, against mine. I cannot be, not without you.”

  He took her wrists in his hands and slowly unwound the binding. The cord dropped to the furs beside them. His thick lashes lowered over his gleaming eyes as he stared at her hands resting in his.

  “Rage if you must. Do it here. I will return soon.”

  He left the Long House without another glance in her direction, closing the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 24

  Winn

  He found the men where he left them at the crest of the hill. Erich sat alone on a flat rock, idly grinding a stick into a point as he watched the others. He raised an eyebrow at Winn as he approached.

  “Settled things, did ye?” Erich said.

  “Yes. What has Jarl Dagr decided?” Winn replied, giving his wife’s uncle a nod. He hoped by returning to the conversation at hand, Maggie’s behavior would be dismissed. He was certainly in no mood to discuss it further.

  “Nothing yet. I think he waits for ye. Wipe yer head, lad.”

  Winn ran the back of his hand over his brow with a scowl, wiping off the smeared dark blood as Erich grinned. Damn that woman.

  “She has a temper like her mother, that one,” Erich said.

  “So I should thank your MacMhaolian blood for that?” Winn snapped, his words terse despite the attempt to curtail his annoyance. Eric shook his head as he chuckled.

  “Well, perhaps not all of it. Her father had a bit of rage to him at times.”

  It was the first time anyone had directly spoken of Maggie’s parents in his presence. With his curiosity wearing stronger than his frustration, he focused on his wife’s uncle. For a man who claimed to love his sister, he spoke little of the woman, and it only made sense to Winn that Erich wished to hide something.

  “Esa was your sister, but who was my wife’s father? Was he of this tribe as well?” Winn asked. Erich nodded a bit to himself at the question, letting out a long sigh as he considered the ground at his feet.

 

‹ Prev