By Love Enslaved (27 page)

While badly frightened, the boys bravely attempted to row their small boat back to shore, but they quickly discovered they lacked the strength to successfully battle the current. The excitement of their outing was replaced with terror, for none was used to the numbing isolation of the open sea. Even though there were islands in the distance, none was home, and rather than trying to reach one, the three hapless voyagers complained bitterly about their lack of luck and remained adrift.

At twelve, Olaf and Hrolf were considered adults, and Thora quickly lost patience with their whining. “I should have known better than to come with you,” she scolded, blaming the peril she found herself in on them.

Insulted, the boys shouted back a few taunts of their own, but with a haughty toss of her bright red curls Thora ignored them. By the time Soren’s boat came into view, they were all miserably unhappy, not only to be stranded, but also with each other. To make certain they were seen, they moved close together to wave and shout, then realized too late what the result would be, for in the next instant the narrow boat capsized and they were all plunged headlong into the sea.

Both Olaf and Hrolf could swim well enough to reach the side of the overturned boat and hang on, while poor Thora, who had never been taught how to swim, splashed about screaming. The weight of her flowing garments pulled her down, and while she shrieked in terror the twins looked on, too frightened by their own plight to risk letting go of their hold on the boat to save her.

As they sped through the water, Soren and his unseasoned crew watched in horror, terrified they might not reach the children in time to avert the tragedy unfolding before them. They shouted to the boys to join hands and reach out for Thora, but the sound of the wind buffeting the sail blurred their words into a mournful howl, and the twins could not understand their helpful advice.

With Thora’s frantic efforts to remain afloat growing feeble, the distance between the two boats decreased with maddening slowness. When at long last they drew close, her situation was desperate, and without waiting for one of the others to act, Brendan tore off his kirtle and boots and dove over the side. With long, sure strokes he swam to the little girl, arriving just as the exhausted child slipped beneath the surface of the water. Grabbing for her hair, he yanked her back up and held her securely until Soren had brought his boat in close enough for Erik to pluck her from his arms. Olaf and Hrolf were pulled aboard next, while Brendan was left treading water until the would-be rescuers’ excitement died down enough for them to notice he needed a hand to help him scramble back up over the side. As soon as he had replaced his discarded apparel, Thora climbed into his lap and, sobbing pathetically, refused to release her hold on him.

With Soren shouting directions, the field hands slipped into the water to right the overturned boat. Once that feat was accomplished, they grabbed hold of the bow and started kicking. As the boat began to move, they pushed down on the bow to raise the stern, and a large quantity of water poured out. By repeating that process several times, they succeeded in emptying half the water from the slender vessel. Conscientious bailing took care of the rest, and once the boat was empty, a line was attached to tow the small vessel home.

Erik wore an exasperated frown as he remained in his place and watched the others work. It was clear Erik wanted to be of help too, but Brendan easily guessed why he had not taken an active part. “Even if you won’t let me teach you, you should learn how to swim. While emergencies like this can’t be foreseen, they are bound to occur when you live on the water.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Erik responded with a tone as harsh as his glance.

Brendan frowned slightly, giving that question careful consideration before he shook his head and smiled. “Not that I can think of.”

Although she was thoroughly drenched and shivering with cold, Thora ceased crying and looked up at the confident Celt with an adoring gaze. With a soft sigh of contentment, she knew she was in love.

When the four women left behind had grown weary of standing on the dock, they sat down in the nearby meadow, for none wanted to return to the house where they would have to rely on a servant to bring word of the boats’ return. Dana tried to keep her mother’s and aunt’s spirits up, but she was not only as badly frightened as they, but desperately tired as well after a near sleepless night.

Never silent, no matter what the circumstance, Grena had at first complained that her lively sons were impossible to control and then had had to fight back tears of fright when she realized they might come to some terrible harm. Berit did her best to console her by making her brothers’ voyage seem the childish prank it was, but she was also acutely aware of the danger they were in.

A sad and restless group, the distraught women were lost in thought until Freya gathered her courage and tried to lift her companions’ spirits with conversation. “Soren has always watched the children when you come to visit, but with him away working on Erik’s house, we should have kept a close eye on them ourselves. The boys are old enough to be of some real help to Erik, and when they return, I think we should send them with him to work on his house for a week or two. That will keep them out of mischief.”

After drying her eyes, Grena welcomed her sister’s efforts to distract her from the problem at hand. Because she had only learned of Erik’s efforts to have his own home that day, she was curious about the young man she usually ignored. “Erik is young to begin such a project. Most men do not build their own home until after they have saved the profits of several years’ trading.”

Dana glanced at her mother, and when she saw the dear woman was too embarrassed by the implications of the comment to speak, she answered for her. “As a falconer, Erik has never had the desire to go trading, and probably never will. He has all the skills to become a successful farmer, however, so there’s no reason why he shouldn’t build a house and begin working on his own land.”

“And how is he managing such an expensive project without the wealth it requires?”

“Even without a great deal of money, he is hardworking and will succeed,” Dana assured her aunt.

Grena thought that unlikely, and her skeptical expression clearly displayed her doubts. “A man, even a young and strong one, cannot maintain a farm on his own. Does he have plans to marry?”

Freya broke into a delighted smile at that question. “A month ago I would have said no, but now I think that he must, although he hasn’t revealed the young woman’s name.”

Dana did not dare glance toward Berit, but she knew exactly how uneasy her cousin must have become and swiftly defended her half brother, since she knew the pretty blonde could not. “Erik is both handsome and bright, and extremely industrious. He’ll make some lucky young woman a fine husband.”

As could be expected, Grena scoffed at that opinion. “Freya, you must teach your daughter that no matter how many admirable qualities a man possesses, if he lacks wealth, he is not a fine candidate for marriage. She’ll be marrying soon herself, and I shouldn’t want her to be mistaken about so vital a matter. Of course, with Jarald courting her so eagerly, that is scarcely a concern.”

Dana found it impossible to return her aunt’s insipid smile, but she could not abide being talked about as though she was not seated right across from the woman. “I doubt it is wealth that makes the marriage bed warm on a long winter’s night,” she remarked pointedly.

“How very young you are!” Grena responded with a throaty laugh. “A wealthy man is far easier to love than a poor one any night, winter or summer. What a man requires of a woman is the same, rich or poor, so it is in a woman’s own best interests to choose wisely.”

Dana knew from experience all men were not the same in any regard, and most especially not in the way they bestowed affection. She could not reveal she had the experience to back up that opinion, however. “I do not even know a poor bachelor, so I doubt I am in any danger of marrying one,” she commented instead, hoping to put an end to her aunt’s unwanted advice.

Freya was too sensitive a woman not to see Dana had been deeply disturbed by her sister’s remarks. Thinking her daughter’s defense of Erik quite noble, she joined her. “We were talking about Erik’s prospects, not Dana’s, and I agree with her that he is a wonderful young man who will be successful in whatever he undertakes. The woman who marries him will undoubtedly share that view and be an enormous help to him. Now I know none of you wishes to give up our vigil, but will you go inside and see we are sent some refreshments, Dana? I think something warm and sweet will make the time pass more quickly for us all.”

Grateful for any excuse to escape listening to her aunt’s opinionated views, Dana rose and started for the house. As she passed Berit, her cousin looked up at her, but her expression was more wistful than confident, and Dana couldn’t help but wonder if Grena’s comments hadn’t been meant more for her daughter than her niece.

Soren’s boat was not sighted until late afternoon, and the weary women broke into delighted peals of joy when they saw he had the children with him. Olaf and Hrolf hung their heads in shame, but Thora, who was still snuggled in Brendan’s arms, was smiling radiantly.

Dana stood back as the thrall carried her sister from the boat. The pretty child’s damp and wrinkled clothes, as well as her tangled hair, gave clear evidence she had survived a terrible ordeal, but she seemed more pleased with herself than frightened as Erik described how Brendan had pulled her from the sea. When Erik reached for her, Thora left the slave’s arms reluctantly and only after she had given his cheek an enthusiastic kiss.

Wanting to get her sons into dry clothes, Grena scolded them crossly as she hustled them toward the house. High-spirited boys could be forgiven any mischief if things ended well, but not when their pranks resulted in near disaster. Freya and Berit walked on either side of Erik, patting Thora affectionately as they followed the path, but Dana remained behind. First she complimented Soren for being so fine a sailor. Then she promised the men who had accompanied him a reward for aiding in the rescue. Last she turned to Brendan and with a nod drew him away from the others, who had begun to secure the boat to the dock.

While she would never admit it to him, Dana had been every bit as thrilled to see Brendan return safely as she had been with the children’s rescue. As always, the sight of him was enough to make her heart skip a beat, but, as usual, that was a weakness she fought rather than attempted to understand.

“You’ve charmed Thora, but I don’t want you to think my mother and I are not as grateful as she is that you were the one to rescue her. I will see that you receive twice whatever amount my mother gives the others.”

As a thrall, Brendan had never been paid for his work, and he had not expected to receive any money that day either. Feeling his motives were being questioned, he was insulted and began to argue. “I didn’t do it for a reward. Thora is a sweet child and I wanted to find her and the boys as badly as Erik and Soren did.” It pained him to think Dana believed he had volunteered only in hopes of earning an ample reward, but he could tell she doubted the sincerity of his words even as he spoke them.

“You have impressed me as a man who does nothing without reason, Brendan, but even if you wished only to be helpful, you still earned a generous reward and I’ll insist that you take it.”

Brendan looked over his shoulder to make certain Soren and the men working nearby were not listening. Unfortunately, he saw that they all were. “I’ll walk you to your house,” he offered in a commanding whisper. While he dared not take her arm while they were being observed, he was grateful she did not resist, but instead started up the path.

Because there was something far more pressing than money on his mind, he decided they could argue about his reward later. He was not proud that it had taken threats to bring Dana to him, but he was still too uncertain of her feelings for him to admit he would not have carried them out. That was a secret he would have to keep until she came to him willingly, as he hoped she soon would. “What did you tell Erik?” he asked softly.

“I did no more than confirm his suspicions about us and beg for his silence. He will not tell my secrets any more than I will reveal his.”

Brendan nodded, pleased her half brother had not learned of his stupid threats. “Talk Erik into staying here for the night. Then you can meet me somewhere close by later. What about the storehouse for furs?”

Dana waited until they had reached her door to reply. “No, I’m much too tired to meet you tonight. Last night I meant to take only a brief nap but overslept. Tonight I’ll not be able to wake at all.”

The delicate lavender shadows that marred the creamy skin beneath her eyes attested to her fatigue, but Brendan was too startled by her excuse to accept it. “That’s why you were late last night—you fell asleep?”

“Yes. I had intended to meet you on time. I had given you my word on it, remember?”

Brendan couldn’t believe his ears. He had nearly gone mad imagining she hated him too much to ever take him as a lover. It infuriated him anew to learn that while his frustration with her tardiness had pushed him into a near blinding rage, the prospect of meeting him had held such little excitement she had fallen asleep! He looked away for a moment, attempting to gain control of the tumult of emotions that churned within him each time he looked at her. Before he succeeded, she reached out to touch his arm and spoke to him in a persuasive whisper.