Viking Passion (30 page)

It was lighter now. The sky and river were
both a pale, rose-tinged gray. She saw Erik’s sleeping form
stretched on the sand near her, his naked sword by his hand. She
reached toward him to touch the warm skin of his face, to brush
back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead.

He caught her wrist, pulling her down onto
his chest until their mouths nearly touched. She could feel his
warm breath and the firm, steady beat of his heart.

“It’s almost dawn,” she whispered

* * *

They reached Vitaholm at midday. This was the
place where the merchant fleet assembled each year after leaving
Kiev. With summer waning and the flotilla gone on its way to
Miklagard, the fortified outpost was nearly deserted, the lookout
tower on the hill standing as a last, lonely sentry before the wild
southern steppe-lands.

“We will stop,” Erik told them. “If there is
anyone going south on the river, it will be from here. It would be
safer to join a party, rather than trying to make the trip
alone.”

They soon learned there was no such
group.

“We go on quickly then,” Erik said. “If we
can have no protection from numbers, speed must be our safety.”

The women pleaded for a night of rest within
Vitaholm’s ramparts. Maura was plainly exhausted. She had told
Lenora of being repeatedly beaten and nearly starved by the coldly
sadistic Sven. Lenora feared she would not survive the trip to
Miklagard, and said so.

In spite of his eagerness to be gone, Erik
admitted his sympathy for the bone-thin woman. He allowed them to
stop long enough to trade some woolen cloth for bowls of a hot,
meaty stew, coarse brown bread, and flagons of ale from an old
woman in the marketplace, who stirred a huge cauldron over a
fire.

Maura ate her food with the concentrated
intensity of one who has gone without for too long.

“Eat it slowly,” Erik cautioned. “You don’t
want to be sick.”

“I haven’t eaten this much at one time since
I left Thorkellshavn,” Maura said. She wiped her bowl with a last
crust of bread, swallowed it, and licked her fingers. “That was so
good.”

Well fortified by their meal, they set out
again. Once more they traveled until the moon had nearly set and
then slept briefly.

Attair found them at dawn, as they pushed the
boat back into the river. He came with a dozen mounted companions.
He signaled for his men to wait and rode alone onto the beach to
confront Erik and the women.

“Get into the boat,” Erik said softly.

“I won’t leave you.” Lenora had needed only
one look at Attair’s cruel, handsome face to know she would rather
die at Erik’s side than ever belong to Attair again.

“Obey me, Lenora,” Erik said. “I want to be
able to sail quickly.”

“Please, Lenora,” Maura begged, nervously
eyeing Attair. “I’m afraid of that man.”

The two women gave the boat another shove,
waded into the river with it, and clambered aboard. Lenora picked
up the oars. Using them as poles, she and Maura held the craft
steady, waiting for Erik.

“Erik Far-traveler, give me the woman and
I’ll let you live,” Attair called.

“I bought Lenora from you in an honest sale,”
Erik replied. “She is mine.”

“I followed you and found Torgard dead. Is
this the second woman he was to bring me? Did you steal her from
him? She’s not very pretty, and much too scrawny for my taste. You
may keep her. I’d rather have Lenora back. There are a few things I
would like to do with her. You understand.”

“Only too well. You have my silver. Lenora
stays with me.”

“Shall we fight for her?”

Attair’s horse picked its way daintily to the
water’s edge. Erik slowly backed away until he was knee-deep in
water.

“Come out and fight on land,” Attair coaxed,
urging his unwilling horse into the river.

He raised a huge battle-ax and brought it
down with a slashing motion, bending far out of the saddle to do
so. Erik leapt toward the horse, moving inside the deadly circle of
the ax’s swing. Catching Attair off-balance, Erik pulled him from
the saddle. Water splashed around them, obscuring Lenora’s view of
the fight. The horse reared, neighing loudly. Attair lay stunned,
half under water, his ax lost as he fell. Erik’s sword flashed
once.

Attair’s men had begun moving forward with
menacing expressions.

“Raise the sail,” Erik shouted, splashing
through the water toward the boat.

A volley of arrows flew through the air,
several thwacking into the side of the boat. Maura gave a loud
shriek. Lenora was too busy with the sail to pay attention to her.
Erik caught the stern of the boat and pulled himself over, his
sword still in his hand.

Lenora pulled wildly at the ropes, her
nervous hands slipping and burning. She felt Erik next to her,
helping. More arrows whizzed through the air. One tore right
through the unfurling sail. Then the sail was completely open and
they were moving out of range of the arrows. Attair’s men rode
restlessly back and forth at the river’s edge, shouting after
them.

“Is he dead?” Lenora asked.

“He is. I’m sorry it was so quick and easy.
He deserved something much more painful. I doubt his men will
follow us to take vengeance for his death. I think they are more
likely to ride back to Kiev to divide Attair’s belongings among
themselves.”

“Are you hurt, Erik?”

“No, but Maura is. Tend to her, will you?
We’ll run aground if we’re not more careful.”

Erik scrambled to the stern to grasp the
tiller. Lenora turned to Maura. She lay on a pile of supplies, her
face ashen, her eyes closed, an arrow protruding from her left
shoulder.

“Pull it out,” Erik advised. “Wash it with
river water and bind it up.”

Biting her lower lip, Lenora did as he said.
She was afraid Maura would die as Halfdan had done, but she only
moaned. Lenora moved her to a more comfortable position and covered
her with a rug she found in one of Torgard’s bundles. She found a
cask of ale, unplugged it, and filled a wooden cup. This she held
to Maura’s lips.

“Thank you.” A bit of color had come back
into Maura’s pale face. “Where is Erik?”

“He’s safe. We are far away from those men
now.”

“At first I thought it was Snorri coming
after me.” Maura began to weep. “Don’t let him capture me, Lenora.
Promise me you’ll help me.”

Lenora felt sympathy flood through her,
washing away all her previous resentment against this
once-beautiful Irish slave.

“I can imagine what Snorri did to you,” she
said. “We won’t let that happen again. We’ll get away from him,
you’ll see.”

Lenora was not at all sure she and Erik could
keep that promise, but she knew Maura needed the reassurance. After
Maura had drifted into sleep, Lenora crept to the rear of the boat
to kneel near Erik. He put one arm around her waist and pulled her
against his side. She rested there, watching the riverbank slip
by.

The landscape had changed. The dark green
northern forests had disappeared. Now in all directions stretched
the flat, golden steppes, endless and monotonous.

The weather had changed too. Gone was the
heavy, humid air of northern swamp and forest, exchanged for a dry,
frequently windy heat that steadily increased as they traveled
southeastward.

No one bothered them. They moved through the
wide, empty land in isolation. There was no sign of pursuit, no
hint that Snorri was following, but still Erik insisted they take
turns keeping watch each night. As day followed identical day,
Lenora longed for a night of uninterrupted sleep.

The sun was relentless. Erik and Lenora were
soon tanned to a deep brown, but Maura burned. They pulled cloths
from the bundles Torgard had packed into the boat and covered her
head and arms and shoulders.

“I will always be grateful to you,” Maura
said one day as Lenora put a clean cloth on her now-healing wound.
“You saved my life twice, once by making Erik bring me with you and
a second time when I was wounded. I won’t forget it.”

“No one makes Erik do anything,” Lenora said.
She added a question about Maura’s home in Ireland.

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too
painful. Snorri killed my husband and my child and did terrible
things to me. He is an evil, heathen man. Sven was no better. Erik
seems to be different, and I must admit his father was kind to me,
but I have finished with men. Erik says this Miklagard to which we
are traveling is a Christian city. Perhaps I will enter a convent
there.”

If you live until we reach Miklagard
,
Lenora thought, considering Maura’s too-thin body. Then she asked
about a matter that had been preying on her mind ever since they
had left Kiev.

“Maura, while you were in Aldeigjuborg, did
you ever see a man called Rodfos? Or hear Snorri or Sven talking
about him?”

“A big, heavy man with a red beard? Was he a
sailor?”

“That’s the one. Do you know what became of
him?” Lenora had to know what Rodfos had suffered for her sake. She
felt she owed that much to him, to know his final fate.

“Was he a friend of yours?” Maura’s haunted
silver eyes were huge in her thin face. “That poor man. I tried to
help him, but Snorri wouldn’t even let me give him a little water.
And then Sven beat me again for thinking of helping a
prisoner.”

“What did they do to Rodfos?”

“You don’t want to know, Lenora, and I don’t
want to tell you. Please don’t make me say the words.”

“They really did kill him then. I thought
Sven might have been lying.”

“Sven didn’t know what really happened.”

“What do you mean, Maura?”

“After Sven beat me I lost my senses for a
while. When I woke again it was night, and I was still lying on the
ground, not far from Rodfos. I could just see him in the firelight,
and I saw he was breathing, but it must have been painful for him.
I’m sure Snorri had broken his ribs. Then two men came out of the
dark and carried Rodfos away.”

“Snorri’s men, carrying him off for more
torture.” Lenora could hardly speak. Pity for Rodfos and rage at
Snorri and Sven constricted her throat.

“Oh, no.” Maura’s bony hand reached out to
take Lenora’s, offering what comfort she could. “I think they were
Rodfos’ own men. I knew those who were traveling with us, and I had
never seen those men before. I wanted to ask them to take me, too,
but I was in such pain I knew if I tried to move or speak I would
have to cry out. I wouldn’t be able to help myself, and then
Snorri’s guards would hear and come to investigate, and see what
was happening. So I just lay there watching them until they
vanished into the darkness. When Snorri discovered what had
happened, he was furious. I pretended I was still unconscious so I
wouldn’t have to answer any questions. He beat me again, anyway,
but I never told what I had seen, until now.”

“Thank you for telling me, Maura.” Lenora
pressed the hand holding hers. “At least now I know Rodfos had a
chance of living. He tried to help us. I wouldn’t want him to come
to harm because of me. Curse Snorri! How can one man be so
wicked?”

“He thinks Erik has done him an injustice. He
wants vengeance, but he was a bad man even before that.”

“When will it end?”

“Not until Snorri is dead, Lenora.” Maura’s
face was sad. “Snorri will never stop so long as there is life in
him.” Lenora knew she was right.

Maura recovered her health slowly. Lenora
thought this was because she was so exhausted and hungry when she
was wounded. She slept deeply each night, and Erik and Lenora often
extended their time on guard to allow Maura to sleep longer.

One evening, when Maura had settled herself
to sleep beside the fire and Lenora was about to lie down herself,
she brought up the matter of her status as Erik’s slave.

“You freed me in Hedeby,” she reminded him.
“Why must I be your slave again?”

“Don’t you understand? Attair had so many
armed men that Halfdan and I could not rescue you by fighting our
way in and out of his compound. The only way to get you out of
there was by tricking Attair. I had learned enough about him to
know he would agree to sell you if he thought he had the better of
the bargain, and if it would make him look clever. That is why I
offered to buy you.”

“Did you really use all of your silver?”

“Every last dirham, and all Halfdan had
too.”

Lenora digested this for a moment, blinking
back the tears that still rose to her eyes every time she thought
of Halfdan.

“I’m grateful to you,” she said at last, “but
I don’t want to be a slave any more.”

“No one does, Lenora. In your case, it is the
safest thing for you to be. Let everyone we meet know that you
belong to me and that my sword will defend my property.”

“And after we reach Miklagard? Will you free
me then?”

“We’ll see. I make no promises. Perhaps I’ll
decide to keep you permanently.”

She turned from him in anger at his words. He
stepped in front of her, his eyes glowing like emeralds in the
firelight.

“Lenora, I ask you to trust me. I don’t want
you to come to any harm.”

“I want to be free.”

“What of me? I’m as much a slave as you are.”
His hands rested lightly on her shoulders. “Sometimes I think I’ll
never be free.”

“Erik?” She stared at him, puzzled by the
tone of his voice.

He drew her closer.

“Trust me,” he repeated, his voice
tender.

“I am beginning to.” She raised one hand to
touch his heavily bearded face.

Beside the fire, Maura stirred sleepily. “Is
it time for my watch?” she asked.

Erik walked away from Lenora into the
darkness.

“Not yet, Maura,” he said over his shoulder.
“Go back to sleep. You, too, Lenora.”

They did not discuss Lenora’s situation
again.