Raging Sea (14 page)

All Ran had wanted was to marry the man she loved and live the expected life—home, children and contentedness. Ran knew that no matter the choice, no matter her actions, that expected future was already gone, shattered along with her dreams.

“I need to free my father. If you will help me do that, I will do what you need of me,” Ran said. She knew the meaning of the sad glances she received. She understood that the odds in this particular gamble were against her father, but the whole endeavor was risky at best and deadly at worst.

Suddenly she could take no more talking. No more powers. No more. Ran turned and walked down to the water's edge, away from all the planning. More confused than the day she'd found out about Soren's betrayal, she crouched down and touched the water, seeking some solace.

Ran had emptied her mind of thoughts and fears as she touched the water. It was as though they accepted all of it and allowed her a moment of peace. The emptiness did not help her sort out her feelings or plans, but it was exactly what she needed.

After some time had passed, she understood that she needed to return to the others and sort through the turmoil, so she thanked the sea and stood up. Turning toward the camp, she found Soren standing a short distance away.

“Do you know how long you have sought the sea for comfort? Whenever you are near it, you touch the water. In a boat or on a ship, you lean over and stare into it. Water has always been in your life.”

She walked toward him. “And have storms always been part of your life, Soren?” she asked. Then, before he could reply, she nodded. “Ah, they have. As a farmer, and a sailor before that, storms have always controlled your life. Too much rain or too much wind and the crops fail. The same with sailing. Both too much and too little can harm your efforts.”

“True,” he said. “But I never could have conceived of something like this. That I could call them forth. I thought myself simply a farmer, with a farmer's life ahead of me. And I was content with that, Ran.”

His words matched her thoughts exactly. Again they were in harmony. And yet, not at all.

“Soren, I know that my father's life is most likely forfeit. I know that Hugh de Gifford intends his death.” She walked up to him and met his gaze directly. “But I must try. I must try.”

He nodded and looked over her head for a moment, to where the others waited. Ran knew that there had been something between Soren and her father. Something bad. But now, without him, her father stood no chance.

She'd walked out of Soren's life, never expecting to see him again. Ran had asked for no explanations of his side of their sad ending and had given him no chance to offer one. Now, she asked him to help her in something that might even cost his life in addition to hers.

“Your father does not expect my help, Ran. There is ill will between us,” he began, still not looking at her.

When she would have pursued what he'd said, he forestalled her with the stubborn jut of his chin and his fierce blue gaze. “I cannot speak of it, but he will think himself forsaken if the decision were left to me.”

“And is he forsaken, Soren?”

“Nay,” he said on an exhalation. “I will help you, Ran.”

Ran knew she would get no more than that from him. His agreement to help was all she needed. She would have told him that she was grateful. That she would find a way to repay him or to show him how much it meant to her.

Somehow.

“I think we need to know where they are. If we loosened our hold on them the night before last, they could be anywhere,” Soren said.

It made sense.

“I will go and find them.”

“Ran?” Soren touched her arm as she moved past him toward the sea. “Have a care. He is a dangerous man.”

As she melted into the sea and sought her father, Ran realized that she did not know if Soren spoke of Hugh de Gifford or her father . . . or both.

She thought it was the latter.

R
an approached the ships slowly this time, trying to observe before moving closer. The ships traveled in an orderly line, coming from Westray and taking the outside channel around the islands. From their heading and speed, she guessed Father was taking them around the southern approach and through and into Scapa Flow.

As though he was going home.

It was the course set to return to Orphir.

“Come, Waterblood!” Hugh de Gifford stood at the side of her father's ship, inviting her aboard. “Come and speak with us.”

“Ran! Get away!” her father yelled as he ran along the side of the ship. “If it is you, go! Go now!”

He could not see her as part of the sea. De Gifford now could.

“Svein, lucky for you, your daughter will not be so foolish as to leave without hearing my offer.”

She watched as de Gifford took hold of her father's arm with a hand that glowed like the metal in a smith's fire. Her father screamed at the agony of such a hold.

Ran moved like a wave toward the ship and placed herself on the deck before changing her form. She ran to her father and touched de Gifford's hand, sending plumes of steam into the air. No matter how much water she put on it, the burning did not stop.

“I am here,” she yelled, stepping away, now fully in her human body. “Stop, I pray you. Stop.”

Now horror replaced the pain on her father's face as she walked toward him. When de Gifford let go his grasp and Ran tried to help him, her father recoiled from her touch.

“What are you?” he asked. “Are you some perversion like he is? An ungodly creature?”

The words cut into her heart. But he was in terrible condition and had suffered at this evil one's orders. Ran looked around at the other crew members and saw the same horror and fear in their gazes.

“Bjorn,” she said, walking to the older man. He backed away from her and then made the Sign of the Cross over himself, as most of them did. Askell would not even meet her eyes.

A part of her died then, realizing that they would never accept her as Ran Sveinsdottir again. Well, if she was waterblood, she would do what she could to protect them. It was the reason the old gods set up their bloodlines—to protect mankind. She faced de Gifford and studied him for a moment, now seeing the coloring of Brienne in his face.

“What is it that you want of me?” she asked. She noticed that his black hair was now more gray than black. A change since she'd seen him the first time. He seemed older now.

“I want you to take your rightful place in the order of things,” he said. “You have powers that they cannot understand or accept.” He nodded to the men who had just rebuffed her approach. “At my side, you will learn the full extent of them.” De Gifford walked closer and whispered. “You have no idea of what you can truly do.”

His voice grew soft and enticing. Within it was a compulsion to follow him. He was deep within her thoughts now, whispering his temptation.

“Chaela is unlike anything you can imagine, Ran. And she will give you more powers when she is freed from the place she was imprisoned by the traitors who turned on her. She is the strongest of the Old Ones, the only one still in existence. Help me open the circle and she will grant you your every desire.”

Ran tried to fight it, but there was something stopping her. She could not move now. Could not speak. Could not turn to water. Had he done this to Soren? How had Soren escaped?

“Come with me,” he said without speaking. “Once he helps us open the gateway, you will have him for eternity. And I will show you ways to punish him for his betrayal. Torment to last an eternity, Ran. For his faithlessness. For fucking your brother's woman and then pushing her from the cliff.”

She gasped, horrified by the words. Were they the truth? How would he know such things? Her gaze alone moved, looking across at her father. Had her father revealed such things to this evil man?

The sibilant temptation began again and Ran wanted to accept it. She wanted to give him what he wanted. All of it. To pay Soren back for his actions. To make him suffer, not for two years, as she had, but forever.

She would take the life from him bit by bit, sucking the water from his bones and marrow and muscle. She could do that. She could take the water from him. Make him feel the painful loss of each drop until he was nothing.

Nothing but dust beneath her feet.

“Ran.”

Ran opened her eyes. She had taken hold of one of the sailors without even knowing it and had . . . had . . .

She had taken every bit of water from his body.

The man's desiccated body now crumbled under her touch.

Silence reigned; not a sound was made. Only the sound of one man moving toward her.

“This is only one of your powers. You control the water in this world. Take your place of honor and we will rid ourselves of those who opposed us.”

The voice was real now. The temptation more so.

“Soren will rue the day he betrayed you. He will regret not accepting his place with me. Soren will . . .”

She heard nothing but his name now and her heart pounded at the sound of it. Soren did not deserve such a fate. No one did. But as de Gifford now touched her, she saw the destruction and the ultimate chaos of all she loved.

That would be the result of freeing this Chaela.

“Soren!” she screamed out.

The sea around them bucked, the ship tilted and de Gifford lost his hold on her. She joined with the sea and escaped the ship, tearing through the water and screaming. The seas boiled as de Gifford sent his terrible fire into it, but after rising in steam, the water always returned to its home.

In confusion, she went with the water, in circles, deep and then shallow, moving, always moving, until the last whispers of his temptation left her. But the fact that she'd murdered a man with her touch did not. Tormented by what she'd done, she could not go back to the others and face them. Instead of protecting, she had destroyed.

Ran swam away from Orkney, out into the larger ocean to the west where no ships sailed, racing through the cold water, away from her homeland, and screaming out her rage and horror and guilt. Forcing herself up into the air, she released the wave and crashed back into the sea, trying to punish herself for the heinous act. Crying and sobbing, she whipped the water into currents and whirlpools.

When she was finally exhausted, she turned herself over to the sea, hoping it would let her die there. Better that than to live to kill again. Especially if she killed Soren.

For in spite of his betrayal, in spite of her anger and hurt, she loved him. She'd never stopped loving him and she knew that now. And she knew she would die first before harming him.

She loved him.

The sea gentled around her, warming and caressing her. It carried her for hours and she cared not where. Night or day mattered not.

Only when the sea placed her on a beach did she rouse, pushing back her hair and rising to kneel. The place looked familiar to her. Standing, she knew it at once.

The Brough of Birsay, a tidal isle on the northern edge of the Mainland. For now, separated from the rest by the swiftly moving channel, but at low tide, the land bridge would be open. It was morning, for the sun was just creeping over the horizon and sending shards of light across the land. It was peaceful here. If she did not think too much, she could imagine herself here in earlier days, exploring the empty buildings of the abandoned monastery.

Centuries before, this place had been sacred ground for the Church. And before that, the ancient Picts claimed it as theirs. She'd not visited here for years. Had the sea brought her here because it remained a sanctuary, untouched by evil?

During her last visit, she'd gotten trapped on the island for the better part of a day, waiting for the tide to go out and reveal the causeway. Now, that would not keep her from leaving.

But, where should she go?

The evil one needed her to open the gate to the place where she was imprisoned.

The others wanted her to help find that same gateway, in a hidden circle of stones, and seal it.

Her father wanted to be rescued.

She wanted . . .

Ran sat back down on the ground and watched the sun rise higher in the sky. Piercing through gray clouds that floated low and thick on that horizon, she could think of only one thing she wanted.

Soren.

As though she'd conjured him out of nothing but his name, the winds swirled before her and became him.

“Ran,” he said, running to her. He fell to his knees before her and searched her face. “I have been searching for you. I asked the winds to find you and they could not. Not until now. Are you injured? Did he harm you?”

“I cannot think about him, Soren.”

“We were terrified when you did not return,” he said. “I know how convincing he can be; he tried his deception with me. And with your father his prisoner, I feared he had drawn you in.” He dragged his hands through his hair and shook his head. “When you did not return in two days' time, I feared you were dead.”

“Two days?” Time mattered not when she was in the sea. “I did not know. I did not know where to go.”

“What happened?” He moved closer and touched her cheek.

In that moment, she knew how she'd escaped. It was thoughts of Soren that broke the evil one's hold on her soul and her heart. Because . . .

“You gave me the strength in that terrible moment, Soren. When he'd torn my heart open and tried to burn his way in, you were there, standing in his way.” She reached out and stroked his face. “I have been lying to myself and to everyone around me. I did not stop loving you. Not then, not now. When I realized that, I had the strength to break his hold and get away.”

“Ran,” he began, but she placed her hand over his mouth to stop him from making any promises.

“I have seen what Chaela plans to do when she is free and I cannot allow it. But I am empty, Soren. Emptied by what I . . .” She could not finish the words. She could not admit that dark sin to him. “I need you, Soren. I need your strength. I need your love.”

“I need to tell you the truth of it, Ran,” he said, tugging her hand free.

She knew then that the truth did not matter. She'd seen too many truths in the way evil worked. Right now she wanted only him.

“Nay. Nothing but love in this holy place. Love me, Soren.”

And he did.

Not only because she'd asked, but also because he always had and it was what he'd wanted to do for more than two years. If loving her would help her in some way, he would. And he would answer to the rest later.

Soren leaned over and began with a simple kiss, an innocent one compared to many others they'd share. Gently rubbing his mouth against hers, he moved closer and pulled her to him so that their bodies touched.

He sensed her weakened spirit and emptiness. There had been some injury to her soul and she had emptied herself of everything to deal with it. Though he could have asked the winds to show him what had happened, he did not. She did not want him to know, but he could imagine the feeling of violation her soul suffered.

“Aw, Ran,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. When she met his gaze tears filled her green eyes. “Nay, no tears.”

“I love you, Soren,” she said.

The simple declaration almost unmanned him. He would not use the words or bind her to himself when he knew she still doubted him. But he could give her his love without the words.

He kissed her eyes, tasting the saltiness of those tears. And he touched their mouths once more and felt her arch against him. “I want to touch you, Ran. Let me?”

She nodded then and, after tossing his cloak behind her, he guided her back to lie on the ground. With a wish for warm winds, he untied the laces of her gown and loosened it. Soren moved slowly, undressing her bit by bit and kissing every inch of her skin as he did so.

It took no time at all for him to arouse her; he felt the heat moving through her body. Each touch brought a sigh. Each kiss or touch of his mouth and she arched against him. Ran dug her fingers into the ground as though trying to keep from touching him.

Finally, she lay naked before him, clad only in her stockings, and he drank in the sight of her body. He'd missed the way the nipples of her breasts puckered when he blew against them. And the inclination of her belly down to the curls between her legs. He rolled her to her belly and began a new path down her back, over the globes of her arse and onto her thighs. The place behind her knees still made her laugh.

He paused only long enough to remove his tunic and breeches. Then he moved behind her, sliding his arm around to cup her breast as he slipped his cock between her legs. He drew out each caress, each taste, each kiss, trying to be gentle. She arched back against him, their bodies spooned together as he kissed and bit and licked the place on her neck that was sensitive.

“Soren,” she whispered. “I need your strength now. Take me.” She turned in his embrace and met his gaze. The turquoise aura pulsed brightly around her and her eyes changed to that color. “Fill me with your love, Soren. I am empty.”

She reached between their bodies and took his cock in her hands, tearing away any control he had. Their joinings had never been quiet and easy. They joined like a storm, full of thunder and shattering release. He pulled her to him, sliding one leg between hers and lifting hers over his hip, opening her to his touch.

She held him with two hands, sliding one under his bollocks and the other moved up and down his shaft. Soren rubbed the inside of her thigh, watching as her mouth opened and she breathed in shallow, quick breaths as he moved ever closer to the place where he wanted to be. When he turned his hand and slid it along the cleft of her flesh, she moaned, clutching his erection even harder.

He wanted to make her scream. He needed to feel her scream. He needed to taste her release against his mouth.