Viking Passion (31 page)

* * *

At last they came to the place where the
river turned due south and, rushing downward between walls of
granite rock, dissolved into the rapids and cataracts that had
taken the lives of countless voyagers.

“This is the most dangerous part of the
journey,” Erik told them. “Even more so now because the water is
low. We will rest for a day and eat well. This passage will require
all the strength we have.”

They took advantage of the pause to bathe.
Maura washed modestly at the river’s edge, keeping her back turned
and dressing again quickly when she was finished. Lenora pulled off
her soiled garments and plunged into the water. After the endless
heat and the windblown dust of the steppe winds, the coolness was
wonderfully refreshing.

She moved farther out from shore, sinking
down into the water until she was covered to her chin. She tilted
her head back to wet her hair. She did not notice Erik telling
Maura to keep watch, or see him strip off his clothes and follow
her into the water.

As Lenora floated toward the middle of the
river, she felt the power of the current and realized how strong
was the force against which they would be contending the next day.
It nearly pulled her off her feet when she tried to get back to
shore. She floundered about in the water until a pair of muscular
arms caught her and she was pressed against Erik’s warm, naked
chest.

“Be careful,” he teased, his mouth near hers.
“I don’t want to lose you to the river.”

“Oh, Erik,” she cried in surprise. She put
her arms around his waist to steady herself. “I didn’t know you
were here.”

“But here I am.”

He held her body so firmly to his that they
were almost one. She closed her eyes, half-fainting with sudden
desire that came unbidden, flooding over her. He knew it. He knew
everything about her.

With a strong kick he lifted himself off the
riverbed, floating backward toward the shore, pulling Lenora on top
of him.

“We’re going to drown,” he whispered, and
kissed her.

Both their heads went under water. They came
up spluttering and laughing. Lenora clung to him, her whole being
suffused with joy at his nearness, radiant with happiness as their
laughter and their entangled bodies in the swift-flowing river
combined to dissipate whatever residual anger and bitterness had
lain between them. She knew at last that she had been wrong about
Erik. He did want her. She could feel how much.

She wound her arms about his neck and kissed
him, feeling his happy response in his hard mouth as he left her
breathless. He let her go reluctantly.

“We’re shocking Maura.” Erik stood up in the
shallower water where they had floated and hauled Lenora out with
one hand. The late-afternoon sun shone on droplets of water running
over his chest and arms and down his torso. “Go dress or I’ll
forget Maura is here. I wouldn’t mind, but I don’t think you would
want her watching us.”

“Erik.” She caught at him, not willing to let
him go. His green eyes met hers, reading the depth of passion he
had stirred in her.

“Soon,” he promised. “One day soon, my
beautiful Lenora.”

He dove into the water again, swimming into
the cold depths with strong, sure strokes. It was a long time
before he waded out and dressed.

* * *

The next day they traversed the first of the
series of rapids. Erik fastened three twisted hide ropes to the
boat. They unstepped the mast and lashed it and the sail into the
hold, along with their other gear. They took off their outer
clothes, piling them into the boat. Then, each grasping a rope,
they stepped into the icy water. Carefully they felt their way
around submerged stones and unexpected holes as they inched along,
wading close to the looming cliffs, pulling the boat with them.

The sound of water roaring and thundering
among the rocks and boulders, some the size of small island, that
littered the middle of the river had lulled Lenora to sleep for two
nights. Now that she was in the midst of that sound it was
terrifying. The swift-moving river crashed against the rocks,
breaking into white foam and swirling in dangerous whirlpools and
eddies. The current tugged at their feet.

They could hear nothing but the water. Erik
gave them directions by gestures or by nodding his head. Several
times the current caught the boat, nearly pulling them with it into
midstream, where they would be dashed against the rocks and killed.
It took all of their combined strength to haul the boat back toward
shore, where the current was less strong and they could manage the
craft more easily.

Lenora wanted to run, to get to the other
side of this noisy torture as quickly as possible. She could see
the white-faced Maura was as frightened as she was. But Erik was
slow and patient, edging his way along, step by careful step, until
they reached the other side of the rapids and the river began to
run more calmly.

They pulled the boat up onto a narrow, rocky
beach. Lenora sat on the ground, her knees shaking with relief. Her
ears still rang with the tumult of the water against the rocks.

“That one wasn’t too difficult.” Erik dropped
down beside her, laughing. “Wait until you see the next one.”

“You have no fear at all,” she said in
wonder.

“A clear head is more useful than fear for a
journey like this.”

The rapids were protection as well as danger.
That night, for the first time since leaving Kiev, they did not
keep guard.

They made their way downriver more slowly in
the following days, occasionally pulling the boat through rough
water, more often making a portage. They unloaded their cargo,
carrying it overland past the rapids or waterfalls, sometimes
needing an entire day for this. Then they trekked back to the boat
and half-dragged, half-carried it overland. It was a small boat,
scarcely big enough for the three of them and their bundles. Lenora
had thought it was too small for such a long trip, but with each
day that passed it seemed to her larger and heavier.

They had to stop frequently to rest when
moving it overland, for Maura, though willing, was still weak from
her wound, and Lenora, try as she might to keep up with Erik, was
not as strong as a man. As they progressed farther south on the
river, a constant guard was necessary in case the Khazars attacked
them.

“It’s luck,” Erik said one evening. “They
must have raided the merchant fleet that went before us and seized
plenty of loot from it. Perhaps they think no one else is coming
downriver so late in the season. We have been very fortunate so
far.”

“Or perhaps,” Lenora said, thinking of
Attair’s ill-fated caravan, “they are raiding inland this
season.”

It was just before the last cataract that
Snorri finally caught up with them. They had slept late, worn out
from their labors of the day before.

“We will rest for one day,” Erik had said,
“and then make the portage.”

The women were repacking their belongings to
better distribute the weight they would each have to carry when
they heard Erik unsheath his sword.

“Put all the bundles into the boat and lash
them down,” he ordered. “Take the extra sword, Lenora. Maura, you
use that short-handled spear.”

They watched as Snorri’s men beached their
boats a short distance upriver from them. There were eight men and
Snorri himself. He wore a scarlet cloth around his upper left arm,
where Erik had wounded him at their last meeting. His expression
was murderous.

Seeing him, Maura began to cry. “There are
too many of them. They will capture us. Erik, kill me now. I don’t
want Snorri to touch me again.”

“Be quiet, woman,” Erik replied impatiently.
“I’ll do my best to keep Snorri away from both of you. Now, Lenora,
when I call to you, I want you to push the boat into the water. Get
in it and head for the rapids. Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch up
with you.”

“All right,” Lenora answered. “We’ll do as
you want.”

Snorri led his men toward them. Erik stepped
forward. “Well met, brother. Have you come all this way just to see
me again?”

“You are not my brother,” Snorri growled. “I
repudiate you.”

“Whatever you say. You are still my guest,
however, since I was on this beach first. I regret I have no feast
to set before you. What entertainment would you like? That I can
provide, and with pleasure.” With a cheerful smile, Erik lifted his
broadsword and held it poised.

“Oh, you’ll entertain me,” Snorri snarled at
him, “but the pleasure will be mine. I’m going to kill you,
cripple, and those two witches with you, after my men and I have
used them a while. Then I’ll take the silver you stole from me and
go home and rule Thorkellshavn.”

“Shall it be man-to-man combat?” Erik
suggested politely. “Just the two of us? No point in spilling
anyone else’s blood, is there?”

“Just what I had in mind,” Snorri responded.
“It won’t take me long to finish you off.”

“Then ask your men to stand back and give us
plenty of room. Tell them not to touch the women until we have
fought.”

“Do you imagine you are going to win? Even if
you should, my men will hack you to pieces and then take the
women.”

“Make them move away. I need space.”

“Move back,” Snorri ordered his men. “You
don’t want this weakling’s blood to spurt all over you. It would
soil your pretty clothes and bring you bad luck.”

With much laughter the men stepped aside,
leaving a wide area between themselves and the river’s edge, where
the two women stood by the boat. In the center of this space Erik
and Snorri faced each other with drawn swords. Snorri also carried
a battle-ax instead of a shield.

Lenora glanced around, appreciating how
clever Erik was. He had arranged the field of combat so she and
Maura could easily get the boat into the water before Snorri’s men
could reach them. Before the men got to their own boats up the
beach and began to pursue them, the women would be well into the
rapids that began a short distance on the other side of a rock
promontory that jutted out into the river. She and Erik had climbed
up onto the promontory the evening before, and Lenora had seen the
white water downstream. What would happen to them once they reached
those rapids, Lenora did not know. During their trip downriver she
had learned a good deal from Erik about handling the boat, although
she was still only a novice. But she had come to trust him
completely, so she would do whatever he told her to do.

Snorri slashed at Erik with his sword. Erik
ducked, raising his shield to ward off the blow, and struck at
Snorri’s legs. Snorri jumped aside. His heavy battle-ax thudded
into Erik’s shield and stuck there. Erik threw away the
now-unbalanced shield. Their swords clashed together, flat blade
against flat blade. They strained against each other, hand to hand,
eye to eye, wavering back and forth until Snorri broke away. When
he fell back Erik pursued him.

Lenora knew what Erik was doing. The eyes of
all Snorri’s followers were fixed upon the two men fighting before
them. They had temporarily forgotten the women by the boat. Erik
was maneuvering Snorri so his back was turned to the river and he
could not see what the women did. This left Erik’s back open to
Snorri’s men. Lenora bit her lip hard to keep from crying out, but
not one of Snorri’s men made a move toward Erik. They were all
engrossed by the intense fury of the battle between the two
brothers.

Erik beat at Snorri with relentless
determination, forcing him toward the high, rocky promontory. Step
by step they moved closer, as Snorri’s men turned to watch the
action.

“Now,” Erik called out, “now.”

Lenora turned to the boat, throwing into it
the sword she had been holding in both hands.

“Come on,” she said quietly to Maura,
glancing around to be sure no one noticed them.

“What for?”

“Do you want to wait for Snorri? We are doing
what Erik told us to do. We’re getting away from this beach. Push,
Maura.”

With all her strength Lenora leaned against
the boat. Maura added her weight, and then it was in the water.
They scrambled aboard and Lenora picked up the oars and put one
into Maura’s hands. They began to row toward the middle of the
river.

Lenora spared one quick look at the battle on
shore. Erik and Snorri had progressed farther along the slant of
the promontory. Snorri’s left arm hung uselessly at his side.

Erik must have opened Snorri’s old wound,
Lenora thought. Then all of her attention was given to the boat as
the current caught it and spun it around, pushing it farther out
into the river.

“You take both oars,” she told Maura.

She caught at the tiller and struggled to
make the boat turn its bow downriver. As she did, she heard a shout
from the beach and knew Snorri’s men had noticed them at last.

“Are they following us?” she asked anxiously,
still trying to make the boat obey her, too busy to look back at
the beach.

“Not yet. I think they are waiting for
Snorri. These oars are useless. The current is too strong.” Maura
drew the dripping oars into the boat.

It made no difference how Lenora steered or
how hard she tried to direct the boat; the river seemed to have a
mind of its own. The boat spun around twice more and then drifted
toward the end of the promontory.

“Look!” Maura pointed to the topmost rock,
where Erik and Snorri were fighting at the very edge. As they
watched, Erik took a wild swing at Snorri, wounding his right arm.
Snorri stumbled back. Erik flung down his sword, turned, and dove
into the river on the far side of the rocks.

The current carried the boat around the end
of the promontory and into a pool of calm water. Lenora could hear
shouts, but she could no longer see what Snorri and his men were
doing.