Twin Passions (12 page)

"Tie him to the mast!" Hakon ordered. "And
Egil, prepare the lash." Striding over to the captives, he helped
Gwendolyn to her feet. "You are indeed a brave lad," he said, a hint
of admiration in his eyes. But his expression remained cold. Speaking to both
of them, his voice was grim. "Those men brought you aboard this ship
against my orders, most likely for their own gain. When we reach shore, their
punishment will be far more severe. But for now, they will feel the kiss of the
lash for their greed."

When we reach
shore .
. . Had she heard correctly? Gwendolyn wondered excitedly. Aye,
those had been the Viking's words. A feeling of elation surged within her,
bringing a smile to her lips. So she had been right, she thought, proud of her
intuition. They had cooperated with the Viking, and now he would return them to
their homeland!

The high-pitched whine of the lash through the air
interrupted Gwendolyn's thoughts, and the ship soon echoed with Svein's
terrible screams for mercy. Anora, unable to watch the awful scene, leaned
against the railing and looked out over the sea. But Gwendolyn counted every
stroke of the lash until there had been thirty, and did not blink once when
Svein, his back torn and bloodied, was finally cut down from the mast. She
watched in the same manner as Torvald received his punishment, not feeling
vindicated until he, too, crumpled moaning to the deck. Dragged back to their
benches, the two men were left to lie in their own blood.

"'Tis done, Anora," she whispered to her
sister. For a moment they both stared off into the distance at the faint
outline of land along the horizon. Aye, soon they would be home . . . Hearing
footsteps crossing the deck toward them, Gwendolyn turned to face Hakon.
Squaring her shoulders, she opened her mouth to speak.

"What is your name, lad?" Hakon spoke first,
catching Gwendolyn off guard.

"Uh . . . Ga-Garric, my lord," she stammered.
God's blood, she winced, how could she be convincing as a boy if she did not
even know her own name? Hoping Hakon had not seen her confusion in the
gathering
dusk,
she ran her hand through her short
curls and rushed on boldly. "It is good of you to return us to our
homeland, my lord. Our father will reward you greatly."

Hakon sighed. If he had hoped earlier he might win
their trust, he knew now that in the next few minutes he would earn only their
hatred. "We sail for Norge, lad. There will be no turning back."

Stunned, Gwendolyn could not speak. No turning back.
The finality of those words echoed in her mind, and she shook her head in
disbelief. Anora had also heard them. Whirling around, she stood numbly beside
Gwendolyn.

"But you said earlier . . . you said when we reach
shore—"

"
Yea, that
I did, lad.
But I did not mean your homeland."

Wrenching pain lit Anora's eyes, causing Hakon to swear
softly.
You are growing soft, man,
he
chided himself. Hardening his heart, he continued. "I am not usually in
the habit of making excuses for myself, but in this situation I feel I must. I
had no hand in your capture. My ship needed repairs, and we took refuge along
the river these past three days."

Nodding toward Svein and Torvald lying on the deck, he
added, "Those men acted against my orders, and for this they have been
punished. But I cannot return you to your homeland. We have almost a full day
of sailing behind us already, and we must make haste to Norge on a matter of
grave importance to me." Feeling he had offered enough explanation, Hakon
heard his voice grow hard. "The gods have brought you to me, and you must
accept your fate. I offer you my protection, and when we reach Norge you will
remain with me as slaves in my household."

Gwendolyn's head snapped back, hatred and defiance
burning in her eyes. Any hopes she had of fair treatment by this man had been
cruelly dashed. "I know naught of your gods," she said disdainfully. "But
if it is slaves we shall be, then know this, Viking. You are no different from
the two you punished earlier. Aye, even worse, if you hold us against our will!"

"Think what you must, lad, it makes no difference.
Slaves you will be—you have no choice." Sighing wearily, Hakon turned from
them. "I will bring you furs to sleep on tonight, and some food." He
walked away slowly, feeling their eyes upon him. Yea, life could be cruel, he
thought, understanding their feelings. Yet he also understood his own.

Anora.
Whispering her name, Hakon stood alone at the prow of the ship, gazing into the
darkened sky. He was drawn to her as he had never felt drawn to any woman. It
was as if her emerald eyes had cast a spell upon him, and he could do nothing
to dispel his attraction for her. Yea, even if he had wanted to, he knew now he
could not let her go.

Gwendolyn allowed herself only a moment of self-pity
before she turned to Anora. Her sister's face was deadly pale in the moonlight,
her eyes fixed and devoid of emotion.

"Anora, listen to met" she whispered,
suddenly afraid. She had never seen her sister like this before and it
frightened her. Shaking her roughly by the shoulders, Gwendolyn forced her to
meet her eyes. "Anora, I vow we will return to our
homeland,
and you to Wulfgar. You must trust me in this. I will find a way for us to
escape!"

A flicker of response lighted Anora's eyes. "Promise
me, Gwendolyn?" she murmured plaintively, clutching her sister's hand.

"Aye, on my life . . . I promise."

Chapter 12

Gwendolyn rested her head against the side of the ship.
If only her stomach would stop its churning, she thought miserably, staring out
onto the rolling waves. Nausea swept over her again, and she quickly leaned
over the side, retching. A sharp slap on her backside did not ease her
condition.

"A fine sailor you would make, Garric!" Hakon
shouted at her over the roar of the waves. Gwendolyn felt too ill to retort,
her hate tempered by her seasickness. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she
stumbled back to the tent that Hakon had erected for Anora near the prow of the
ship, trying her best to ignore the grinning, bearded faces of his crew.

Lying on her side and covered by a thick fur to keep
out the chill of the wind, Anora had moved little these past two days.
Mercifully spared the seasickness, she still had been unable to eat despite
Gwendolyn's coaxing and pleading. She had spoken very little, her eyes fixed
out on the sea as if searching for something.

"Anora, why do you stare out at the sea?"
Gwendolyn asked gently, noting once again that Anora had not touched the food
Hakon had brought for her. Feeling her stomach growing queasy at the sight of
the salted fish and sour milk, she pushed the wooden platter out of the tent.
With only food like that to eat, no wonder
she has no appetite,
Gwendolyn thought in disgust.

A heavy sigh broke from Anora's throat.
That's enough,
Gwendolyn decided firmly,
concern etched on her face. If Anora did not face up to their situation, she
would no more make it to Norge than back to their homeland again! Suddenly she
slapped Anora's face.

"Oh!" Anora's hand flew up to her cheek, a
startled look lighting her wan features.

"Aye, there, now!" Gwendolyn cried, feeling
somewhat guilty for hurting her sister, but glad that she had received some
response from her. "Forgive me, Anora, but if I am to make good on my vow,
then you must be with me when we reach our home again. I do not wish to face
Wulfgar without you!"

"Wulfgar . . ." Anora murmured, tears welling
up in her eyes.

"Aye, Wulfgar, the man you will wed one day."
Taking Anora's hands, Gwendolyn met her eyes. "Anora, you must be strong,
not only for yourself, but for him as well." Gwendolyn had already
imagined many times what the scene must have been back at the stronghold when
they had not returned. She did not doubt for a moment that Wulfgar and her
father would set out to find them, yet how long it would take she could not be
sure. Perhaps the Viking ship had been sighted, at least giving them a clue as
to their fate.

"You must eat, Anora. You must keep up your
strength for whatever lies ahead." Gwendolyn paused, hoping the fear she
felt at that moment did not show in her eyes. What would lie ahead for them?
she
wondered anxiously. She had seen the desire written in
the Viking's eyes when he looked upon Anora.
Aye, she will have to be strong,
Gwendolyn thought grimly, for if
Anora could not deny him her body, then she would have to defy him with her
spirit. "Do you understand?" she pleaded.

As if reading her mind, Anora nodded her head slowly. "Aye,
Gwendolyn, I will try to be strong, no matter what lies ahead." Suddenly a
shout went out from high up on the mast, startling them. Whatever the oarsman
had said, it increased the commotion aboard the ship tenfold, for there were
shouts of excitement and the clatter of feet on the deck as men rushed to and
fro.

Stepping out of the tent, Gwendolyn was nearly knocked
over by Hakon as he rushed by, yelling orders to his crew. The great sail was
being lowered and furled, and the men were readying their oars.

"Stay out of the way, lad, if you do not wish to
be knocked overboard!" he said irritably. Suddenly his tone softened as
Anora stepped out from behind the leather flap of the tent and stood beside
Gwendolyn. "We have reached Sumburgh Voe, in the Shetland Islands. We will
stay here for the night, and sail again at dawn."

Thor! She is
truly a temptation,
Hakon thought appreciatively, the very sight of her
stirring his blood. He was glad that she had confined herself to the tent these
past days. His men had been without women since they left Dublin, and they were
growing increasingly restless. He only hoped there would be enough willing women
on the island to satisfy his men's needs before they sailed again on the
morrow!

Not missing the heated desire in Hakon's startling blue
eyes, Anora glanced sideways at Gwendolyn, meeting her sister's gaze. Aye, she
could be strong, if it would bring her back to Wulfgar, she told herself
grimly. Nodding, Gwendolyn gave her a faint smile.

With the oarsmen all rowing in unison, it was not long before
the longship moved into the well-protected harbor. From this distance it
appeared to Gwendolyn that the settlement was quite a large one. She could
count at least eight longhouses, and numerous outbuildings scattered about the
larger buildings. Leaning along the railing with Anora, she was amazed at the
hoards of people lining the shore to greet the Viking ship. Men, women, and
children all crowded to get a better view, their faces lighted with excitement
and welcome.

Climbing onto the dragon-headed prow, Hakon waved his
arm and hailed an exuberant greeting.

Obviously the
Viking has been here before,
Gwendolyn decided, as she watched him jump
from the ship into knee-deep water and wade ashore. A huge, black-bearded man
stepped out from the crowd and enveloped him in a massive embrace.

"Hakon, my boy, so you visit us again at last!"
the man shouted warmly, giving Hakon a hearty slap on the back.

"You look well, Cousin Einar!" Hakon laughed.
"Have you room for some weary travelers?"

"Ha! What a question!" Einar roared. "Call
your men ashore, and we'll break out the ale!" Winking lewdly, he lowered
his voice. "I'm sure there are several lasses here who will fight like
she-cats for the chance to warm such a noble Viking's bed as yours! Hal
Now,
that
will be
a sight to see! Come on, my boy, the air out here is cold, while a warm hall
awaits us yonder!"

Hakon smiled broadly at his huge cousin,
then
turned back to the ship. "Egil, take several of
the men and see that Svein and Torvald are chained securely to their benches
for the night."

"Yea, my lord," Egil called out. He
disappeared beyond the railing.

"As for the rest," Hakon shouted, waving his
arm, "over the side with you! Your welcome
awaits
with open arms!"

Jumping into the water with excited whoops, the men
quickly waded to shore and lost themselves in the crowds.

"What is this, then, Hakon? Prisoners aboard your
ship?" Einar asked, curiosity lighting his eyes.

"More than prisoners, cousin," he replied,
gesturing toward Gwendolyn and Anora, who stood along the railing near the
prow. "I will need lodging for two others this night." Wading back
out to the ship, Hakon reached out his arms to Anora. "Come, little one,
do not be afraid. I will catch you." She looked at him incredulously, and
stepped away from the railing.

"Go on, Anora. Best not to make him look the fool
in front of his friends," Gwendolyn whispered reassuringly. "I will
be right behind you." Still somewhat dubious, Anora stepped up on a rowing
bench and sat down on the narrow railing. Holding her tunic and mantle demurely
in one hand, she swung her legs over the side of the ship. Then, closing her
eyes tight, she pushed herself off the ledge.

Hakon caught her securely in his outstretched arms. "There,
now, Anora." He smiled gently. "We Vikings can be trusted."
Ignoring his soft-spoken words, she tensed in his arms.
That day will never come,
she vowed silently.

A sudden splash beside them caused Hakon to laugh
wryly.
The lad follows her like a shadow,
he thought, then shrugged. More than likely he would, too, if he had a sister
as beautiful as Anora.

"There will be many jealous women crying in their
beds this night," Einar muttered, shaking his head. He watched with great
interest as Hakon carried ashore what looked to him to be a foreign wench.