Captive Heart (34 page)

“Did you forget something?” Mylan had noticed Celiese’s pensive mood and backward glance and thought perhaps she had just recalled something important she’d not thought to bring. He’d not let her return for it, however, no matter what it was.

“No, I’ve left nothing behind.” Celiese lifted her skirt carefully so as not to step upon the hem as she continued down the path. “I wish I had had the time to make another suit from one of yours, that would have been ever so much more practical than this gown will be for a voyage.”

“Your clothes are the least of our worries, Celiese!” Mylan chuckled at her comment, then assured her he’d not put her to work. “You will have no more to do than sit and enjoy the view, your gowns will be adequate for that pastime.”

Celiese smiled at his teasing. He’d been so stern with her that morning she was glad to see his mood was improving as the sky brightened with the light of the new day. As long as the view aboard his ship included him, she knew she would be content. “I will be glad to assist with whatever duties there might be. I do not mind doing my share to make the voyage a smooth one.”

Mylan glanced over her head at Hagen and saw him wince. It would be a difficult voyage in all respects, but he doubted he’d need to call upon a pretty young woman to help him complete it. “I will be content if you will but follow my orders, Celiese, that will be service enough for me.”

Her green eyes sparkling with the mischief she made no effort to hide, Celiese agreed. “As you wish, Captain.” She moved aside as they reached the ship and the two brothers began to confer with the crew. Unlike the Dragon, which Raktor was fond of sailing, this vessel was broader and deep enough to carry a sizable cargo or livestock in the center. That area was now rapidly filling up, as about a dozen men tossed in the provisions they’d require and their own belongings to keep the deck clear for working the large sail. A
knarr
was too heavy a craft to row, so there were no holes cut below the rail for oars. When Vikings went raiding, they preferred the slender warships that could navigate the shallowest river, while the sturdier
knarr
was used for the coastal trade routes Andrick and Hagen favored, or the long voyages of discovery Mylan loved to make. This
knarr
had a surprising beauty, however. She’d been so distraught on the voyage home from Kaupang that Celiese had noticed little about the ship, but now it seemed most attractive to her. The graceful prow, as well as the stern, were decorated with intricate carving of an ornate swirling design, while the large white sail was trimmed with red to make a diamond pattern that was very handsome. She thought the vessel a beauty and wondered if Mylan’s was so sleek and impressive a ship.

When Mylan was satisfied he had all he needed to complete a successful voyage, he went to where Celiese stood watching them prepare for departure. “It is time we left. Come, I will help you aboard.” He extended his hand and she placed her small hand in his. She had very beautiful hands, he thought suddenly, her fingers long and slim, and so delicate that her slightest gesture was filled with grace. That once in France he might be able to discover her true identity intrigued him enormously, for her background provided no end of puzzlement to him. She was certainly not of peasant stock, but was she really a member of the French nobility? He was so curious he could scarcely wait to find out the truth, and he vowed to himself that he would not leave her homeland before he did.

“What is the name of your brothers’ ship, Mylan? It is very handsome and I have been wondering what it is called.” Celiese smiled shyly, not daring to hope his more agreeable mood would last for the entire voyage.

“This is the Surf Falcon, and while mine, the Raven of the Sea, is her twin, the two ships handle differently, and I wish I had not been so foolish as to let my own vessel go unattended.” That he would not have his own ship to sail pained him greatly, for he knew the Raven as thoroughly as he knew himself and trusted her to do his bidding no matter how rough the weather. That he would have to push to its limits a ship he did not know well was only another problem with which he would sooner not deal.

“I have sailed aboard this vessel once, Mylan, and Andrick and Hagen seemed to make her fly. I am confident you can make her even more swift, if that is your desire.” Celiese was sincere in her compliment, but she saw Mylan stiffen, ready to argue. Then Hagen came to his side, and he did not speak whatever thought he had intended to impart.

“I want to come with you, Mylan.” Hagen stood in a relaxed pose, not demanding or hostile, but determined in his request.

Mylan looked back toward his home, hoping the flurry of activity upon the docks had not yet been noted.

“There is no time for argument; you must stay behind. If I do not return, divide what is mine among you and Andrick with a smaller share for Erik. Since Andrick will then inherit our father’s house, my farm should go to you.” When Hagen backed away, not willing to discuss the division of his property while Mylan was still so very much alive, Mylan spoke crossly. “I mean what I say, Hagen. I should return before winter, but if the summer comes again and I have not come home, then you will know what is to be done with my possessions.”

“Your chance of survival will be more than doubled if I am with you!” Hagen interjected hoarsely. He had expected to have to plead his cause and was ready, but he was not encouraged by the fierce gleam of Mylan’s gaze. It was a glance he’d learned to fear as a boy, and he’d not meant to provoke that response ever again.

“No.” Mylan shook his head, his decision firm. “Busy yourself with refitting the Raven. If you still wish to ferry your farmers to Hrolf’s land in the spring, then go. This voyage is mine alone to take.”

Scowling fiercely, Hagen saw there was no point in wasting any more time in talking with his brother when he was in so obstinate a mood. Mylan had always been the leader, his commands obeyed, and he would not disregard this one now. “If you have not returned by the time I sail for France, I shall scout the entire country for you, and you better have a ready explanation for your failure to return!”

Mylan laughed at his brother’s anger, but he knew what it was like to watch another sail and feel the pain of being left behind. That was a sorrow he had endured for two long years but could never bear again. “You will only have to visit Celiese, and I am certain she will be able to tell you what has become of me.”

Hagen turned toward the young woman he’d wanted so badly and realized perhaps his cause was not thoroughly lost. “I will do that gladly. Where is your home so that I might find you, Celiese?”

Her golden tan paling noticeably, Celiese responded in a voice filled with unshed tears, her memories all unbearably sad. “My home is gone, destroyed, burned to the ground. There is nothing left for me except the land upon which it stood.”

Startled by the tragic tone of her response, Mylan spoke in a sympathetic tone, “Yes, that might be true, but surely whatever home you now establish will be in the same location. Where might that be? I will need this information too so that I may see you there safely.”

Celiese looked up at the two tall men. She knew them to be honest, but they were Vikings still, and she had no intention of leading them to her home. She was no traitor to her people and would not be used as such. “Mylan, if you take me as far as the mouth of the Seine I can find my own way home, and it would be far better for both of us if you did not try and find me next spring, Hagen.”

Mylan took a deep breath. He’d not simply put Celiese ashore on French soil. He planned to see that she was left with a roof above her head and food for the winter, at the very least. “Is your home near the Seine, with a view of the sea, or was that just part of your story and not the truth?” Mylan had not forgotten what she’d told him on their wedding night and wondered if she remembered what she’d said.

Blushing, Celiese nodded shyly, for she recalled exactly when she’d told him that. “Yes, my home was bordered by both the Seine and the sea. That is the truth.” As was everything else she’d ever told him, but she didn’t add that spiteful comment, since it would only have served to anger him all the more.

Growing more curious, Mylan persisted, “On which side of the Seine, near Bayeux or Rouen?”

Appalled that he knew her homeland so well, Celiese could not decide which would be worse, to lie or to tell the truth. Mylan’s glance was so insistent, however, that she dared not lie. “Rouen is nearest my home. If you were to ask for me there, Hagen, someone would be able to give you directions to the home of the d’Loganvilles.”

“Rouen is that not where—” Hagen’s surprised question was interrupted by a hearty slap upon the back from Mylan, and he knew enough not to complete it.

Laughing, Mylan gave his brother a warm hug and bid him good-bye. “We cannot stand upon the dock discussing geography all day! Come, Celiese, we must be gone, and if Hagen cares to seek you out in Rouen next spring he may do so!” With a warning glance to his brother, Mylan led the slender beauty up the gangplank of the Surf Falcon and gave the order to cast off the lines that secured the graceful ship to the dock. It was all done so quickly that neither Celiese nor Hagen had the opportunity to say another word to each other.

“Are your parents not coming to bid you farewell, Mylan?” Celiese thought his sudden haste extraordinary and wondered as to the cause, but figured as usual his motives would be beyond comprehension.

Since his parents had no idea he was sailing, Mylan thought it unlikely they would appear. His father had forbidden the voyage, so he’d certainly not come to offer advice and encouragement. As for his mother, he was uncertain what to think of that good woman. If she had known Celiese was to be kidnapped and had not warned her then he’d not forgive her, either. No indeed, he had no desire to see either of his parents that morning and shook his head. “You heard my father last night, he wanted you gone but do you really think he would come to tell you good-bye?”

Celiese looked down, sorry now that she had asked about his family when their dislike of her had been so unhidden. Perhaps that dislike was what had prompted Mylan to hurry, but she thought it likely that had been to spare himself trouble rather than out of any regard for her feelings. Since it would be a long voyage, she did not want to be in the way. She had enjoyed standing at Andrick’s side as he’d held the tiller, but she did not think Mylan would welcome such informality. “Where would you like me to stay?” she asked. “I do not want to interfere in any way with your work or that of your men.”

Mylan laughed out loud at that sweet offer. “It will be the first time you haven’t!” When he saw by her expression that she was not amused by that remark, he softened his tone, but only slightly. “I have told the men to drape a tent over the stern so you will have some shade in which to rest. Sleep as long as you like. I will try and command the Falcon as best I can without your advice.”

Hurt by his scorn, Celiese turned away and walked toward the rear of the ship, stopping to wave at Hagen as she passed by. He looked no more pleased than Mylan, and she wondered how a voyage begun with such haste and bitterness could possibly end well. She was going home again, however, and that prospect would have to sustain her. She found that not only had a tent been raised, but fruit and bread had been left for her, as well as the softest of blankets. After eating a light breakfast, she was too tired to feel the hardness of the deck beneath her as she stretched out and, planning to rest only a moment, was soon sound asleep.

The wind was strong and Mylan made swift time, not once looking back toward his home but constantly glancing over his shoulder to be certain no ships came in pursuit. He’d taken the best of Hagen’s crew, but knew if his father really wanted to he could find men among their houseguests to man a ship. That thought presented a painful possibility, for he did not want to fight any sort of battle against his own father, but the man had brought it upon himself by betraying Celiese so cruelly. As little as he relished the thought of facing his father, the Torgvalds presented a far more dangerous threat. They would need time to bury Oluf, but once he’d been laid to rest, what would their next thought be? Revenge, he knew without question, but would they attack his home or come after him when they found he had taken Celiese out of their reach? A warship could easily overtake a
knarr,
but he had the advantage still, for he’d had a vessel ready to make a long voyage, and as far as he knew the Torgvalds did not. By the time they assembled their supplies and made ready to sail, he thought he would be so far ahead they could not overtake him. The days were still long and hot, autumn barely begun, but those cowards would think twice about sailing now, when winter might overtake them with unexpected swiftness. Plotting strategy as he held the ship to a steady course, Mylan went over each possibility, and how he might best counter an attack. His crew were not the experienced warriors Raktor could summon with a snap of his fingers, but mariners whose only talent lay in making long voyages with both skill and daring. If he so chose, Raktor could pursue him in a ship with fifty armed men, each a worse cutthroat than the next. It was not a pleasant prospect to consider, and since his only weapon was time, he prayed he would not lose that advantage.

So far north the autumn days are long, night fleeting, and Mylan did not look for shelter until visibility became so poor he was forced to do so. While he had sailed his own country’s coast himself, he had memorized the rest of the route in the few minutes it had taken Hagen to explain it. He knew if he followed the coastline, France could be reached easily enough, and with a river so wide as the Seine for a landmark, they would have no trouble finding Celiese’s home, or what was left of it. That it was near Rouen disturbed him as greatly as it had Hagen, though, for he knew Hrolf was living there, and the surrounding lands were now his.