Lord of the Runes (28 page)

“I've been with plenty of them.”

“Been with them, yes. I've been with hundreds.” At Eirik's raised brows, Rorik shrugged. “Perhaps not hundreds, but I've had my share. So have you. Yet, I've never heard you speak like this about any woman before. Usually, I'd be inclined to crack you over the head with the flat of my sword and beat some sense into you. But with what you've told me of her, I can understand why you'd want her. In fact, if you don't claim her, I just might.”

He glowered at his cousin. “And die trying. If I didn't kill you, she would.”

Rorik laughed. “I thought that's how it is. If she's anything like you've said, she's worth fighting for, and worth fighting. Just heave her over your shoulder and the rest will fall into place.”

“Wait until you find the one woman you want, Rorik. You'll see it's not so easy as that.”

“And that's why I'm not looking.” He chuckled. “We leave at first light tomorrow. When you see that sail fill with wind and feel the sea on your face as you stand within your own ship for the first time, you'll forget everything else in the glory of it.”

But he wouldn't. For whether or not Asa waited for him on the beach, her dragon would always be a part of his ship, and she would always be a part of him.

* * *

Eirik had intended to go to sleep as soon as he entered the guest room where he always stayed when he was here. Leif and his men were comfortable in several of the guest houses and most of them were still drinking with Rorik's men, enjoying his generous hospitality.

Sleep, however, eluded him. An urge tickled the back of his mind. He needed to let Silvi know he was on his way. Throughout the winter, he'd received her gentle sendings. He had touched her mind when he'd first arrived at Thorsfjell to let her know he was well. Could he do it again?

He dug through his pack and brought out the gem-encrusted bag that held his runes. If anything could make a connection between his sister and him, they would. He searched through the set until he found the one he sought.
Ehwaz
, which symbolized the horse and an unbreakable bond. It indicated a journey, though usually by land, but she would understand what it meant.

With the piece on the bed in front of him, he closed his eyes and envisioned a sphere of light encircling him. Stars burst around him, bathing him in their glow. Sitting in the midst of them, he drank in their energy. A light illuminated him from within. He drew confidence and peace from it, finding resolve in the connection he had with the runes themselves. He held his hand over the piece, fixing the symbol in his mind.

The power built between the rune and him until he could no longer hold on to the vision. Then he let it go, flinging it out into the stars surrounding him, willing it to find Silvi.

He opened his eyes. Only the stillness of the room enveloped him. All the energy was gone and he rested his head in his hands, drained. Remaining still, he willed strength back into himself. Little by little, it came. Sighing, he picked up the rune to place it back in the bag. It was warm, even in the coldness of the room.

He had done all he could. Now, if his message found his sister, she and Lifa would recognize that he was on his way with help. And, if he knew them, they would have plans of their own.

 

 

 

Silvi stayed in the dream as long as she could. She wanted to decipher every symbol it held. The vision tore away from her, though, and reality showed through the tattered edges as she woke. But she'd seen enough.

She left her room and eased past Hakon's men, who lay all over the tables and benches in the common room, sleeping off their drunkenness of the previous night. She made her way to her mother's room. Lifa was already awake though it was well before dawn.

“Eirik is on his way back to us.” She kept her voice low as she shut the door. “I dreamed of Ehwaz and of dragons on the waters.”

Lifa nodded. “Rorik's ships. Eirik sent you the rune so you would know it's a true vision. If he is just leaving Trøndelag, then it could still be many days until he arrives, depending on the currents and the winds. We must act now to summon the warriors who spent the winter at their homesteads so they'll be ready to fight alongside him. Find Nuallen and bring him here. It is time.”

Silvi sought him out where he slept in the corner of the cooking room with the other thralls. He woke almost before she touched him, as a warrior would. Without a word, they returned to Lifa's room.

“Eirik is on his way,” Lifa said. “We must do as we've planned these past months. We need to make it seem as though you've escaped. Then you can bring back our warriors who did not stay here for the winter.”

“It shouldn't be difficult to believe that I've escaped.” Nuallen gave her a wry smile. “I've managed to convince them of my resentment toward you, and they've been careless in what they say around me. When the passes are clear, they'll all leave to go north.” He looked down. “I'm uneasy with what they've hinted about as far as their plans for us.”

“They're going to kill us.” Lifa's voice was calm, but it trembled a bit.

“They're going to try.” He caught her gaze in his. “I vow that while I breathe, they will not succeed. I'll find your other warriors, and when the jarl returns, I'll join in the fight and we'll be victorious.”

“Then you must hurry. It's still some time until dawn. You could leave now and they would never notice it.”

“I could,” he said. “But with this iron collar on me, I'd just be a runaway thrall. I have nothing to prove otherwise to anyone who might see me and I'm not Norse.” He gripped the metal ring around his neck. “I need this off of me so none will question me as I travel, and so your men won't think I've escaped. With it, anyone who finds me can kill me. If I go as a free man, though, I will be safer.”

“No one can free you except Eirik. Not even I. And what would keep you from fleeing and not returning at all?” Lifa raised her chin, her eyes hard.

He stepped over to her and she had to look up at him. “If I'm an escaped slave, then that's all I'll ever be, no matter how far I travel. I would die as a slave and I cannot accept that. This collar brought me despair, but it also gave me the determination to live and see it removed one day. By helping you, I'll earn my freedom and I'll have repaid my debt to you for saving my life. Only then will I be truly free.”

Silvi studied them both. Something sparked between them, like a metal fire-starter and a stone. Nuallen wore a ring on his neck, yet he came before Lifa with a pride of bearing that spoke of his great strength and quiet confidence. In the year and a half of his slavery, he'd never lost that.

Lifa let out her breath, as though she'd been holding it while she made her decision. “Come with me. Both of you.”

Her room had a separate door so that those who wished to keep their consultations with her private could do so. They left the longhouse and made their way to the smith's shop. He was up, making a seax blade.

“Mistress. What can I do for you?” He dropped the red-hot metal into a bucket of water, then came over to them.

“Strike off Nuallen's collar. The time has come for us to make our move, as I told you weeks ago.”

“Very well.” He picked up his hammer. “Come over here, Nuallen, and let's get this business done.”

Nuallen knelt at the anvil and put his neck to it, the ring resting on it. He brushed his long auburn hair to the side. The smith set an awl to the seam of the ring with a steady hand and brought down his hammer. The ring broke apart with one blow. Nuallen stood and, closing his eyes, put his hand to his strong neck. Already, he seemed to be taller, more powerful.

Lifa walked to a rack where new swords rested and picked one out. She returned to Nuallen and held it out to him. “Take this. You'll need it.”

As he took the sword from her, he put his fingers over hers on the hilt for just a moment, before he moved them so that she could draw her hand away. In the glow of the forge, it appeared that she blushed. Or was that just the color of the firelight? She met Silvi's eyes and looked away. Silvi almost smiled. He and her mother were of the same age. Interesting.

Nuallen sheathed the sword in the scabbard the smith gave him and belted it around his lean hips. “If I have to kill any of them as I leave, it may be difficult to explain.”

Silvi smiled. “No, it won't. All winter, we've been feeding them tales of the spirits in these woods and the Wild Hunt. Whenever you've killed any of them and left the body in the woods, they've become even more convinced that these mountains hold
draugar
and trolls. We'll tell them that since winter is over, the wood spirits are awakening and are hungry from their long sleep. The men are half-afraid to walk outside at night to patrol as it is. If more of them die, that will make it worse. They won't guard Haardvik as closely as they would otherwise, which will work to our advantage. Some may even flee. When the number of dead increases sharply, we'll know you've returned. It will make them even easier to manipulate. Hide yourselves and wait for Eirik to come before you make any moves.”

Nuallen smiled. “Remind me never to come up against either of you in a battle of strategy.”

Lifa cleared her throat. “You remember where all the homesteads are?”

“I remember the directions you've gone over with me all winter, mistress. Now, I should leave before first light.”

Lifa took a step toward him, but stopped. “Return to us, Nuallen. We'll need you. Then, I vow that I'll have my son free you.”

He closed the distance between them. “I will come back, and not only because I wish to be freed.” He lifted his hand as though to touch her arm, but let it drop back to his side. “I have other reasons. I swear I won't fail you.”

Gathering his cloak around him, he crossed to the door and was gone into the darkness. When Silvi and her mother left the forge to return to the longhouse, there was no sign of him. It was as if he had never existed.

Silvi paused to look into the shadows of the woods surrounding Haardvik, her senses attuned to the land around her. She couldn't see him, but he was still there, watching to be certain they got back to the longhouse safely.

Would Nuallen keep his word? Whenever the three of them were alone, he'd looked at Lifa with such gentle care. He'd never been anything but respectful to both of them. And yet, when he was with Hakon and his men, he'd cast her and Lifa glares filled with such loathing and resentment that it'd made her skin crawl. He was as good an actor as any storyteller, but which was the real Nuallen?

They would find out soon enough. All their fates lay in his hands, the hands of a proud man whom they had made a slave and who had every reason to hate them.

 

A
sa sat on a small ridge overlooking the misty fjord. Ever since she was a child, she would sit there, watching the men prepare for their trading journeys in the spring. It was where she'd last seen her father before he'd sailed for the East and his death. Would she ever see Thorsfjell again after this?

The men moving below her caught her eye. The ships were ready to sail. Though they weren't sleek warships, they would hold all of Magnus's men and a large amount of supplies. More boxes and sacks sat on the beach, waiting to be loaded onto Rorik's ships.

Asa, Magnus, and their men had arrived at the beach two days early, staying in a nearby farmstead, but so far there was no sign of Leif and Eirik. She'd spent the days watching the waters, remembering everything about the winter. And she missed Eirik all the more.

A dark shape appeared in the mists on the waters and she stood, straining to see it. It came out of the gray haze, a large longship gliding around the curve in the fjord. It was splendid, like nothing she had seen before, even at the great markets. Fog covered the water, making it seem as though the ship floated on the clouds.

At first, the mists swallowed all the color on the ship. But as it came closer, it broke free of the haze. Shields of all hues lined its side above the oar ports and its sail was striped red and white. Another appeared behind it, also beautiful, though not as long as the first. And flanking them were the two
knörrs
Magnus had sent to Trøndelag.

“Magnus, ships.” As she called to him, he looked up at her from where he stood on the beach. She pointed. “It's Leif and Eirik.”

The men gathered on the shore to watch them approach. Though the sails were unfurled, because of the still morning air, oars dipped into the water. Their bows cut the waters like knives, their ornaments rising above the waves. As they drew closer, she focused hard to see who stood on their decks.

A man hung on to the dragon on the front of the largest ship, his arm wrapped around it. His blond hair flowed around his wide shoulders and he was dressed in a deep blue tunic and dark trousers. She smiled, her heart melting. Eirik. He rode the ship like he was a part of it, born of the sea itself.

Leif stood on the bow of the second ship with a black-haired man who was at least as tall as he was. That must be Rorik.

They raised the oars and glided onto the beach. She ran down to meet Eirik, but as she got closer to the ship, she looked at the dragon's head. It was hers. The one she and Eirik had carved together. How? Only a jarl or king should have a dragon on the bow.

Then he jumped off the ship and splashed the rest of the way through the shallow water toward her. The other men also leaped off and pulled the ships farther onto the beach. But Eirik looked only at her.

“I didn't see you here at first,” he said. “I thought you'd decided against me.”

He was dressed in the finest clothes, a wide gold armband on his bicep. His belt was of the best leather and was encrusted with gold. He looked like a king's son and her heart sped up a bit more. But there was still the matter of her betrothal.

“I was on the ridge above.” She crossed her arms. “And how do you know I've chosen to wed you? I might be here just so I can go with all of you and have my revenge on Hakon.”

He stepped up to her. “That isn't how it works. I said if you were here, you were mine. You're here.”

She raised her head. “You said that, not me. I have a right to seek revenge, the same as any of you.”

“No. For if you are not my betrothed, then it is Magnus's right to slay Hakon to see justice done. If you are to be my wife, then it is mine. As it stands, the right is now mine, and so are you.”

He took her shoulders and kissed her hard. She tried to pull away, but he circled her with his powerful arms and she couldn't move at all. He plundered her mouth, taking what he wanted, as ruthless as any raider. And yet there was a care to it, as though he held back his strength for her sake. Only when he lifted his head to grin down at her did she hear the cheering of the men around them.

Heat rose into her cheeks as she looked at the crowd of warriors. Among them stood six women, all armed and dressed in thigh-length tunics, much the same as hers. They, too, shouted and laughed. This was the first time she'd seen other shieldmaidens, and they would have to see her like this. The ground could swallow her up right now and she would be happy to just sink away.

She ducked her head into his chest. “I'm going to kill you for this.”

“You can try.” He dipped his shoulder and tossed her over it. Mortified, she fought him, but he only laughed.

She reared up, trying to find her brothers, but her hair flowed around her and she couldn't see anything. Why weren't they stopping this?

“The first man who comes onto my ship, rows all the way to Hordaland.”

With all the men laughing, Eirik splashed back out to the ship and set her over the side onto the deck. Her skin was hot with embarrassment and anger. Before she could scramble away from him and jump off the other side, he was on the ship and had her in his arms. He picked her up and strode toward the back of the ship, where a large length of cloth was tented across the rigging. It made a cabin of sorts, and he carried her into it.

As soon as he set her on her feet, she swung at him. He ducked. “How could you do that to me in front of my brothers and their men? You heard them laughing. I've spent years trying to earn their respect as a warrior and you treat me like some common woman. You wouldn't do this to any of them.”

“Gods, I hope not.” He chuckled. “Rorik's men may have been applauding for me. But Magnus's men were cheering
for
you. They care about you and were rejoicing that you have finally chosen someone who could make you happy. If you want to look at it this way, you were just bested by a better warrior. It happens to all at one time or another. Accept your defeat. I'll make certain it's very pleasant. For both of us.”

“Is that what this is? Defeat?” She shoved her hair out of her face. Was it possible that what Eirik said was true? That the men she'd fought beside all these years were voicing their support of her choice and her future? “I suppose it is defeat since I can hardly fight both you and Magnus, now can I?”

He lowered the front flap of the shelter. “Admit it, Asa. You'd made your mind up to go through with the marriage anyhow, even though I gave you a choice. You're angry because we arranged a marriage without consulting you, but we felt we were doing it for your happiness. I think you're content with it, but it's your stubborn pride that's getting in the way.”

He took a step toward her, but she backed away. Months ago, it would have been because she was afraid. Now it was because she was livid.

She paused. She
wasn't
afraid, and that deep, soul-searing rage didn't consume her. Not in the least. The world wasn't turning as red as blood and she didn't fear losing control of herself. Even now, when she was thinking about what Hakon had done to her, she didn't feel any fear at all. Just good, healthy anger at Eirik. It felt wonderful.

“Doing it for my happiness? And what about the alliance? How did that play into it all? Our marriage was to secure the agreement. No more, no less.”

“Oh? I told you the alliance would stand regardless. Rorik's warships with hundreds of men on them are anchored among the islands off the mouth of the fjord. They wait for Magnus and his men and ships to join them. Then we'll all sail south together to battle for the freedom of Haardvik, as well as revenge on Hakon. Your family and mine.” He walked over to her and she stood her ground, raising her chin and looking him in the eye. “I arranged this without knowing if you'd accept me or not. Even if you don't want me, Asa, the alliance continues. So our marriage has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh.” Her anger foundered like a ship in a stormy sea. Without oars.

He touched a lock of her hair that cascaded over her breast. Her skin tightened. “Our marriage has everything to do with how I feel about you. How I love you. That's all that matters here, now.”

She should stay angry. But if this was defeat, she didn't want to be victorious. He just looked into her soul with his beautiful blue eyes and there was no place she could hide. No way to pretend any longer that she didn't want him.

He brushed her cheek with his fingertips. “One last chance, Asa. You can walk off this ship and I won't stop you.”

She gave him a soft smile. “The water is too deep. I might get my clothes wet, and then what would I wear?”

“Nothing.” He laughed and took her in his arms. “If I have my way, you'll wear nothing at all.” Then he grew grim. “I won't deny that I want you. Now. But I don't want to frighten you. I said we would go slowly and so we will, if it's what you want. Perhaps once Hakon is dead, it will free you from the past.”

“You've done that, Eirik. Freed me. With your kindness, your patience, your gentle strength, and your love. There will always be shadows in me, but when I meet Hakon in battle, I won't be that same innocent girl who died within me that day six years ago. She's gone forever. Yet I would not be what I am now without her. If that hadn't happened to me, I wouldn't have the strength I do now, or the ability to fight. And if I die and go to Freya's Folkvang, let it be because I died a valiant death in this battle, and not because I died a virgin.”

He gathered her closer to him and kissed her. Reaching up, she curved her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him farther down to her. She was tall, but he was so much taller, and bigger. Everywhere. Already, his body pressed against hers, his desire apparent against her stomach.

“I would see you, Asa. You've already seen me, I know, in the sauna.” Grinning, he released her and stepped back.

“I remember something about you seeing me after I fell through the ice.” She gave him a mock frown, but her heart raced.

“I don't think that counts,” he said. “I was a bit preoccupied with keeping you alive. I don't remember what you looked like. Much.”

His smile was wicked, enticing. Her cheeks heated as she swallowed. Facing him here, like this, was far more difficult than facing a dozen warriors in battle. “I don't know if I can.”

“Then let me.” He stepped back to her and untied the lacing beneath her neck. Running his finger under the cord, he loosened it.

The back of his hand brushed between her breasts and she sucked in a breath. Lightning seemed to strike deep within her body, targeting her between her legs. Something there opened out.

“Lift your arms for me.”

She did so and he slipped the tunic over her head. Under it, she wore a linen top for warmth and to protect her skin from the leather. He untied the lacings and drew it off of her shoulders. Exposed, she shifted so her hair fell forward and covered her nakedness like a gleaming, fiery shawl. No man, not even Hakon, had ever seen her fully unclothed, and her true vulnerability drove into her.

Eirik unfastened the fine leather belt he wore and let it drop to the floor. Then he pulled off his shirt and tunic and cast it aside, his hair pouring, golden, down his chest and back. His body was perfect. The scars on his shoulders and arms only accentuated his male power and his prowess as a warrior. He had fought many battles and emerged victorious, the same as she. The gods had made them for each other, two souls who would soon be one, and desire flared in her to know that closeness with him.

After sliding off her shoes, she untied the drawstring of her leggings, let them fall, and stepped away from them. Her hair still flowed down around her, but she didn't shake it back. Let him discover her, as he wished. Matching her movements, he removed his wet trousers and shoes and faced her. He watched her as she swept him with her gaze, but didn't reach for her.

She'd seen naked men before. Warriors weren't modest, and after battles they'd shed their bloodied clothing and wash in whatever water was at hand. She hadn't thought much of it. Before.

This was very different.
He
was very different. He would lay her down, and she would take him into herself. She let out a trembling breath. How could they do that when he was so large?

“Asa?” He came to her and tilted her head up with a gentle hand beneath her chin.

She tried to smile. “I'm fine.”

“You're beautiful, but I would like to see more.” Combing his fingers through her hair, he moved it back behind her shoulders so that she stood open to him.

At the heat in his eyes, she crossed her arms over her breasts. He took her wrists and held her arms to her sides, insistent and commanding, but still careful of her.

“There's no need to hide anything from me, ever.” His deep voice spiraled straight into her. It held a tone she'd never heard before. It was possessive and very male.

He picked her up and knelt with her onto the piles of furs that lay strewn throughout the enclosure. Positioning himself over her, he kept his movements slow and his weight from her. The muscles on his arms and shoulders bunched as he lowered himself, touching only his mouth to hers. His scent drifted over her, that of leather, the sea, and the winds.

She hadn't been certain how she would react to being beneath a man. Her only experience with it had been filled with fear and horror. But this was Eirik. And this was now, not six years ago.

No matter what happened in the battle, this would be her truest victory over Hakon.

Eirik was so careful of her, watching the look in her eyes, every motion of her body. He understood, and that was why he was perfect for her.