Captive Heart (8 page)

“You knew you were not Olgrethe! If nothing else, you knew that! Now cease your lying or I will kick you myself!” Mylan stepped forward, clearly ready to make good on his threat if she did not obey him.

Celiese stared coldly at the hostile young man. How could he not believe her after the night they had shared? Did he truly think she could have returned his affection so joyously if she had wished him dead? The truth was so plain she did not understand why he did not see it. Hiding her anger, since displaying it was futile when he was in so obnoxious a mood, she asked calmly, “If you will please help me up, I can walk.”

“I should leave you here to fend for yourself after what you’ve done to me!” Mylan took a few steps away, then turned back. “Come, dear wife, I will help you stand, but if you cannot keep up with me I will leave you behind.” Mylan reached down to lift her, but drew back when Celiese cried out in pain.

“Just give me your hand, do not touch me again.” Celiese bit her lip in an effort to stifle the sob that came to her lips.

“Here then!” Mylan extended his right hand and waited as Celiese took a deep breath and grasping his outstretched arm rose unsteadily to her feet. But she took no more than two halting steps before she fainted, collapsing in the wet sand at his feet.

Mylan lifted his gaze to the heavens to implore the aid of the gods, but he knew they would be uninterested in the fate of a slave, no matter how lovely she might be. He cursed his own luck that continued to run so swiftly to tragedy, and, scooping up the slender girl in his arms, he walked slowly down the beach in search of some shelter before the gathering clouds could again drench them to the skin with freezing rain.

The cave was small, no more than an indentation in the rocks, but they were protected from the chill of the cold wind as they huddled inside. Celiese was grateful Mylan had not left her, but thought it wise not to inquire into the reason for his kindness.

“You are the most worthless of slaves, Celiese, more trouble than help!” Mylan was still scowling angrily, his mood not improved by the good fortune of finding shelter.

“Am I no longer your wife?” He seemed to use the words slave and wife interchangeably, but she could not believe he regarded her as a servant when she lay so lovingly cradled in his warm embrace. His hands were light upon her arms, his touch gentle still.

“It was Olgrethe I thought I’d married, to seal a treaty Raktor had no intention of honoring! How could you have expected to be my wife when you knew it was unlikely I’d survive our wedding night?” Mylan snarled impatiently, caring little for her reply.

Celiese sighed softly, “There is no way for me to prove my innocence if you will not accept my word. Raktor himself will never tell you the truth, but I did not know what treacherous scheme was behind his desire to switch me for Olgrethe.”

Mylan continued, his voice no less bitter, “Even had he meant to honor his promise to my father, would he have sent her?”

Celiese licked her lips slowly, considering how best to answer that question, and chose the truth. “He would have sent her, but it would have been I who arrived. Olgrethe and I had already planned to trade places, for I wanted to come to you and she did not.”

Mylan was astonished by her candor, “So you admit you are a liar, as capable of tricking me as Raktor was?”

Again Celiese chose her words carefully. “It was Olgrethe herself who first suggested the substitution, for there is such slight difference between us she knew you would be fooled. She has found no man she has met to be to her liking and was certain one who had not been seen in two years must have something truly horrible to hide. I thought only that I would be free if I married you. I have no hope of ever returning to my home, for all who I loved are dead, and it would be pointless for me to return to live alone amid so many painful memories. I knew you would not be displeased with my appearance, and I hoped you would be kind, no matter how severely you’d been injured by the bear’s attack.”

“You are a slave, Celiese, how could you have believed I would accept such a woman as my wife?” Mylan scoffed at the ridiculousness of that notion.

Celiese straightened her shoulders proudly as she argued. “It is not uncommon for a Viking to marry a former slave, but
I
am the one who has married beneath my station, Mylan, not you. Had Raktor not murdered my family and stolen me I would now be the bride of a prince, for my father would have accepted no less for me. He most certainly would never have given me to a pirate such as you!”

Mylan laughed out loud, despite the severity of their situation. “Then we are both equally unhappy, Celiese, for I want no slave for a bride and you want no pirate for a husband.” He continued to shake his head as he chuckled, “I am many things, but no pirate.”

“And I am no slave!” Celiese insisted defiantly, her clear, sweet voice ringing with the unmistakable knell of truth.

After a moment’s pause Mylan asked pointedly, “Surely there is one great difference between you and Olgrethe. Did you think me so great a fool I would not realize you were not a virgin? Not even a French prince would be that stupid.”

“I thought you would be like Raktor’s sons, oafs ruled by their own insatiable lusts, and to fool a man such as they would not have been difficult,” Celiese pointed out logically.

“First you said you hoped I would be kind, and now that you thought I would be a drunken fool! You are a very poor liar, Celiese, for you cannot keep your stories straight. You would be wise to tell me the truth from now on, if you are even capable of it.”

Celiese looked away, hurt again by his lack of sympathy. “I had both hopes and fears, Mylan, but those contradictions are not lies.”

Surprisingly, Mylan tightened his embrace, shielding her body with his own as a fresh gust of wind swept into the small cave. “We will have to find better shelter tomorrow, and something to eat. We are already too weak to survive much longer without food and fresh water.”

Celiese was as amazed by his protective gesture as she was that his plans for survival seemed to include her, and she smiled as she looked up at him. “Have you any idea where we might be? Are we on your side of the fjord, or Raktor’s?”

Mylan’s curious glance swept her face slowly. “Where do you wish to be?”

Celiese’s level gaze met his and held it. “I have no desire ever to return to Raktor’s home, although Olgrethe was always kind to me. You say you do not want me, and there is no way I can reach France. I am lost and alone no matter where I am, Mylan, my future bleak no matter in which direction the storm has tossed us.”

Mylan pointed to the mouth of the small cave. “The sun, when I could see it, was to our right, therefore we are on Raktor’s side, but how close we are to his home I cannot say. We may be far from his docks, or they may be just around the next bend. In the morning I will go out and see what I can find.” Mylan’s voice softened as he explained, “That is what I do best, Celiese. I prefer exploring new lands to pillaging the known world.”

Encouraged by his tender tone as well as his words, Celiese offered a plan. “We could steal one of Raktor’s ships. They are not all as large as the Dragon, and perhaps there is one we could sail back to your home.”

Mylan found her suggestion ludicrous. ‘I thought you were a lady’s maid, not a mariner. Do you even know how to sail, no matter what size the vessel?”

Celiese blushed under his sarcastic teasing, but did not give in. ‘No, but I could help you. You could tell me what to do.”

“Why would you wish to help me?” Mylan asked skeptically.

“I did not understand all the words of the ceremony yesterday, but is a Viking’s wife not expected to assist her husband in every way possible?”

“That ceremony was a farce! I’ve been tricked most cruelly, Celiese. I am not your husband; you are a slave, and I will sell you at my first opportunity. You will command a high price, and I mean to receive it, although that won’t begin to repay the wrong you’ve done me.”

“I will leave you now then, go back into the sea to drown, since I have no future worth living!” Celiese attempted to rise, but Mylan gripped her narrow waist firmly to pull her back down beside him.

That Celiese was so spirited a creature continually amazed Mylan, but he found her far too fascinating to lose in so foolish a fashion. He kissed her cheek lightly before his lips found hers, and when she returned his kiss with an affection he found impossible to resist he drew away, sighing sadly. “If only it could have been real, Celiese, why couldn’t you have really been my wife?”

Surprised by his suddenly subdued mood as well as by his unexpected kiss, Celiese whispered softly, then held her breath as his fingertips began to tease the tip of her breast. “I am really your wife, Mylan. Why do you insist I am not when we found such perfect happiness together?” The damp folds of her tattered dress offered little barrier to his touch, and the thrill was the same, a rush of warmth that began in her loins and spread the length of her chilled limbs. She drew him into her arms, covered his face with sweet kisses as his hands slipped beneath her gown. He knew her body well now, and his tantalizing caress grew more bold until she was lost again upon the tide of his cresting passion. She clung to him, no longer fearing his strength, for he gave such delicious pleasure before taking his own that she would never cease to adore him. Her sweet affection enveloped him in love, flooding his senses with a pleasure so deep he could not release her but kept her clasped in his embrace until the pale light of dawn entered their rocky confines, bringing the harsh reality of their situation into sharp focus, and the magic of the night receded to become no more than a lovely memory.

Mylan’s lips brushed the ugly purple bruise that marred the creamy skin of Celiese’s left side. “This is far worse than I had feared. Surely your ribs are broken, and there is nothing I can do to help you here.” His tone was as tender as his kiss, smooth and warm, for he found her delicate body so delightful he did not want to see her come to any harm.

“The pain is not so intense today, a few broken ribs will not kill me.” Celiese ran her fingertips through his thick curls to draw him near as his lips again caressed her breast in a lingering kiss. She longed to ask if he still meant to send her away, but could not bear to hear his reply. He filled her body so completely with his love, but had she still failed to move his heart? She held him tenderly in her arms and hoped he would speak of love, but he continued to savor her luscious curves without offering the slightest of compliments or promises, and when at last he drew away his mind was on far more practical matters.

“Here is your dress; there is little left of it, but put it on quickly.” He watched closely as Celiese slipped on the pale garment, then took her hands to lead her out through the entrance of the cave. “If I climb the bluff just ahead I may be able to see. I know my own coastline well, but not this one, although I hope to see something that will help me establish our location.”

“Be careful, Mylan, the way is steep and you might fall,” Celiese cautioned anxiously.

Her comment brought a disapproving frown to Mylan’s brow “I will not fall. If I am no longer as agile as a spider, my leg will still hold up for that short climb. Do not tire yourself with needless worry about me.”

“I had forgotten your injuries, I meant only for you to take care,” Celiese replied softly, she found his height and strength so reassuring that she had forgotten his scars covered injuries not fully healed.

Mylan turned away without speaking, then did indeed go up the rocky incline above them with the ease he’d promised. But when he disappeared from view over the top Celiese was not at all certain he would want to take the trouble to come back for her. She couldn’t climb unassisted, and for as far as she could see the shore was littered with rocks, making the walk along even the level terrain treacherous. She was afraid she’d have to remain where she was no matter where Mylan went. She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill as she gazed out at the water. The sea had grown calm again, but how could they catch any fish with no implements? They had not even a knife to fashion a spear if they could find a piece of wood.

When Mylan reappeared he scrambled down the rocks and ran to her side, his gait uneven but swift. “Come with me. There is a guard nearby—if you will distract him I can seize his sword.”

“Distract him?” Celiese moved away from Mylan’s grasp. ‘I can imagine how you wish me to accomplish that! What benefit will a sword be to us when Raktor sends a squad of twenty men to find the one who is missing?”

Mylan’s amber eyes widened in astonishment. “The man let you plan his strategy for raids, did he? You are an expert on how to fight as well as making love? Why did you not kill me yourself when you had the chance, if you are so clever a warrior?”

Celiese shuddered at that gruesome query. “I am no expert on anything other than survival, Mylan, but think, if we kill one man and steal his sword how have we gotten any closer to your home? All we will have done is alerted Raktor to our presence!”

Mylan sat down, folded his arms across his knees, and glared out at the sea. “Raktor has warriors aplenty, and I have but one beautiful woman who refuses to help me disarm a man so I might have a weapon!”

“I would seduce Raktor’s entire force if it would help you, Mylan, but it would not! If he has guards posted he must be expecting some retaliation for the attack upon your home. I didn’t know the prisoners—who did he take and who were left behind who might come to our rescue—” Celiese knelt down beside her husband and waited patiently while he sat silently considering her question for several minutes before replying.