Beyond the Sea Mist

by Mary Gillgannon

  “I’m coming up!” she heard Magnus reply.

  While Ailinn waited for Magnus, she experienced a sudden unease. There were so many men around and they were all looking at her. She was going to have to ask Magnus to take her someplace private. There was no way she could kiss him with all these men around.

  Magnus climbed out of the hold. As soon as he was on deck, he seized her arm. “Ailinn, what is it? Why did you leave the tent? Has anyone tried to lay hands on you?”

  “I-I-I-I...want-t-t-t-ted...t-t-t-toooo...tel-l-l you...”

  “Thor’s hammer! Where’s your cloak?”

  Had she lost her wits? Magnus stared in dismay at the shivering Ailinn. “Why are you here? Did someone try to harm you or the other women? Tell me who it was! Are you well? Did they hurt you?”

  When she responded, he could make out his name, but little else. Her teeth chattered so violently she couldn’t form proper words. But she didn’t appear injured in any way, only extremely chilled. Still, he’d seen men in her condition and knew it was dangerous. Taking her arm, he guided her back to the tent.

  She kept trying to talk to him, but he couldn’t make any sense of it. He had to get her to shelter and get her warm. The best way would be to strip off her clothing and rub her skin with his hands. Or take off his clothes and hold her against his own nakedness. But he didn’t have the time to do such things, although the thought was tantalizing.

  He coaxed her into the tent. It wasn’t much warmer inside than on the open deck, but at least she would be out of the rain and wind. “Stay here,” he told her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He crawled out of the tent and made his way to his sea chest. Moving his spare clothing aside, he took out his winter cloak. His sister-in-law Gyda had insisted he bring it, despite his protests that this was a summer voyage and he would never need such a heavy garment. Now he was glad she’d been so persistent.

  He bent over the chest once more and dug in the bottom until he found a beverage skin and leather bag containing some hard flatbread. These were also things Gyda had made certain he’d brought. Magnus shook his head at the practicality of women. If left to his own devices, he’d have made this journey with naught but his weapons and the clothes on his back.

  He must learn to leave that sort of carefree outlook behind, he realized as he took a few bites of the bread and washed it down with wine from the skin. It was no longer merely himself that he had to look after. He was responsible for Ailinn and her companions, and--if things went his way--perhaps the ship and its crew.

  After another quick swallow of the wine, he started back to the tent. As soon as he pushed his head inside, Ailinn started talking again, saying something about Croa. She was still shivering and unable to speak clearly, and he grew impatient. He must get back to the hold. There was still a lot of cargo they needed to be rid of.

  He handed her the wineskin and the bag of bread, then wrapped the heavy cloak around her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he told her.

  Ailinn gazed after Magnus in dismay. He hadn’t given her a chance to tell him how she felt, let alone kiss him. Instead, he’d treated her like a child who was in the way. She knew their situation was dire, but he still could have taken a few moments to listen to her.

  He probably thought she was going to ask him to do something for her. But she’d only wanted to thank him for aiding her. To let him know what he meant to her before it was too late. The panic returned. What if she never had a chance to tell him how she felt?

  She made up her mind. She’d stay here until she’d warmed up a little, then seek him out again. If nothing else, she must return his cloak. Without it, he’d soon be as wet and chilled as she was. She couldn’t bear to think of him shivering with cold. He was her hero, her champion.

  She unstoppered the beverage skin and took a swallow. It was wine. A bit stale but still drinkable. She took another swallow and began to feel better. Maybe she could get the other women to drink some.

  She maneuvered next to Gormlaith and held the wineskin to her lips. Gormlaith didn’t respond and Ailinn gave up. She tried with Brina. Brina took a swallow, then promptly gagged. It appeared her stomach was still too queasy to tolerate anything. Ullach was able to drink a little, but then moaned and pushed the skin away. Realizing she had the wine to herself, Ailinn took another swallow. And another.

  Magnus had also left her a leather bag full of hard bread. Ailinn ate a couple of pieces, then decided she should save the rest for Magnus. She should probably save some of the wine as well, but it was too late; she’d already drunk most of it.

  She was feeling better. The shivering had stopped and she could feel the wine warming her. Magnus’s cloak was helping, too. She stroked the soft wool, wondering who had made it for him. The blue-gray fabric would look very fine on him and bring out the color of his eyes. A wave of yearning passed through her.

  Beside her, Brina stirred and mumbled something. Ailinn knew an immediate stab of guilt. She should be sharing the cloak with her companions. They needed it more than she did. She unwrapped the garment from around herself and spread it over the three women. Now there was no way she could go out in the storm. Without the cloak, she would get chilled and Magnus would be angry. She lay down next to the other women and snuggled under the cloak. Her last thought was how fortunate it was that the garment was made to fit a man of Magnus’s size.

  * * *

  “I think getting rid of the cargo helped,” said Asgar. “The ship seems to be riding much higher in the water.”

  “Either that, or the storm is easing up,” said Bragi.

  Magnus nodded, too exhausted to respond. The three men stood near the mast, assessing their situation. The clouds didn’t appear quite as dense as they had earlier, although it was hard to tell since it was growing dark. Magnus allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe they would be able to ride out the storm.

  “What do you say we rest for awhile?” Asgar suggested. “I think we’ve done all we can for now.”

  Magnus nodded wearily.

  The other two men started off, presumably to seek out their bedsacks. Magnus stood there a moment longer, collecting his thoughts. He hoped Asgar was right and they’d done enough. None of them had the strength to do more. His feet in the sodden cowhide boots were numb and the muscles in his back and shoulders screamed with pain. His arms were so fatigued, it had taken several tries for him to climb out of the hold onto deck.

  Despite his exhaustion, a dozen thoughts whirled through Magnus’s mind. Getting the ship the through storm was only the beginning. Now he had to fight off any man who thought to challenge him for control of the ship, protect Ailinn, get them back to land... His responsibilities seemed overwhelming. He must sleep or he would never be able accomplish any of those things.

  With leaden feet, he started toward the stern. At the tent, he halted. How had Ailinn fared these last few hours? He should have looked in on her before this.

  He lifted the flap and glanced inside. The women all appeared to be asleep. Ailinn was huddled next to the other women. She’d spread his cloak over her companions, leaving only a small corner for herself.

  Magnus crawled into the crowded tent and adjusted the fabric of the cloak so that it better covered Ailinn. While he didn’t wish the other women ill, Ailinn was his main concern. As he drew away, Ailinn mumbled something, her face contorting with distress. Magnus tensed. Should he rouse her from whatever unpleasant dream tormented her? He longed to hold her in his arms, to kiss and cuddle her. But he didn’t know if she would allow that. She’d always been so prickly and difficult. Even now that he’d saved her life, he still wasn’t certain how she felt about him.

  Besides, he must put her safety above his own desires, and if he didn’t get some rest, he wouldn’t have the strength to fight off anyone who might challenge him for control of the ship. He made his way to his sea chest. Reaching it, he got out his sword, then sat down on the deck and propped himself against the chest. With the sw
ord across his lap, he closed his eyes. He didn’t dare sleep, but he must rest for a time.

  * * *

  Ailinn woke when Ullach whispered her name. “How are you faring?” Ailinn quickly responded.

  “I’m better,” said Ullach. “But I worry about Gormlaith. She hasn’t moved at all, and her breathing is shallow.”

  Ailinn crawled over Brina to where Gormlaith lay. She reached out and touched the young woman’s cool cheek. When she didn’t respond, Ailinn shook her and called her name. There was no reaction. Ailinn’s heart sank. Poor Gormlaith. Nay, she wouldn’t think like that, she told herself firmly. As long as Gormlaith breathed, there was hope the young woman might recover.

  Ailinn left Gormlaith and made her way to the opening in the tent. Peering out, she realized the rain and wind had halted, although it was very dark. “The storm’s over,” she told Ullach, who sighed with relief.

  As the tent flap fell back into place, Ailinn recalled that the reason they’d survived was because of Magnus. She remembered the plan she’d had, to give him a kiss as a reward. It still seemed like a fine idea. Perhaps she should go to him now, before some other catastrophe struck.

  But how would she ever find him in the gloomy night? She told herself she had to try. After all Magnus had done for her, she must make the effort to seek him out and tell him what he meant to her.

  “I’m going to find Magnus,” she told Ullach.

  “Be careful, lady,” Ullach whispered back.

  Ailinn left the tent. As soon as she started forward, she bumped into someone sleeping on the deck. The man grunted and mumbled something, but didn’t wake. Ailinn moved on cautiously.

  As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she realized the deck was full of sleeping men, most of them sitting propped against the large storage chests that lined the deck. She moved carefully past them, searching for Magnus.

  One of the men grabbed her ankle, and Ailinn gave a little cry.

  “What’re you doing here, wench?”

  “I’m looking for Magnus.” If the man didn’t let go of her ankle soon, she would scream.

  “You’re a tasty piece.” Ailinn opened her mouth, prepared to shout for Magnus, but the man continued, “But not so tasty that you’re worth fighting over. At least not with that big bastard, Magnus. I vow, he did the work of a half dozen men by himself this day.”

  The man released her, and Ailinn hurried to be away from him. She’d almost reached the stern of the ship. There was someone awake there. She drew nearer and called out Magnus’s name. An unfamiliar voice answered, “Nay, it’s Vibold. You must be the thrall who caused so much trouble. Called on your gods to curse us, did you?”

  Ailinn felt a surge of panic. Did everyone still blame her for the storm? What if the men believed she was bad luck and decided to cast her overboard? “I only cursed Croa to scare him,” she said. “I don’t really believe the old pagan gods have any power. I’m a Christian.”

  Even as she spoke them, she wondered if her words were true. How could she deny the ancient forces of her homeland? It seemed very unwise to do so. But she really didn’t want the men to think she was a witch.

  “I don’t believe you caused the storm,” Vibold said. “You might hate Croa, but I don’t think you hated him enough to cause your own death. If the ship had gone down, you would have ended up at the bottom of the sea with the rest of us. But the other men may not be convinced of that. If I were you, I’d stay close to Magnus.”

  Ailinn shuddered as she faced the implication of his words. “Where’s Magnus?” she asked.

  “Asleep back there.” The man pointed toward the mast. Ailinn realized she must have walked right past him.

  She found Magnus propped up against his sea chest with his long legs sprawled out in front of him. He appeared to be deeply asleep. Ailinn tried to decide what to do. He might not be pleased if she woke him, and he deserved his rest. But she didn’t want to return to the tent, either.

  She sat down on the deck next to Magnus, then eased nearer. His outer tunic was damp, but she could feel the warmth radiating from his body beneath it. She closed her eyes, thinking how delightful it was to be close him. He was so big and solid; he made her feel safe.

  * * *

  Ailinn. He must be dreaming; he could swear he could smell her...and feel the delicate shape of her body next to his. He reached for her, expecting to encounter empty air. When he realized it really was Ailinn pressed against him, he was shocked into full awareness. He opened his eyes and glanced around. The last thing he could recall was falling asleep with his sword in his hand.

  His sword! He knew a panicked moment until he found it lying on his right. It must have fallen off his lap as he fell asleep. If he’d been attacked, he would have died right there. But instead of an enemy creeping up on him, it had been Ailinn.

  He gently pulled her onto his lap. She stirred and mumbled something, but didn’t waken. Awe and wonder filled him. She’d sought him out. She wanted to be near him. It was the fulfillment of his deepest longings.

  He nuzzled his face against her hair and hugged her tight. How close he’d come to losing her forever. How easily Croa could have thrown her into the sea. But the gods had favored him. Perhaps they’d sent the storm that had given him the opportunity to defeat Croa and set Ailinn free. He heard her mumbling something in her sleep and leaned his head nearer to her lips.

  “Magnus,” she whispered.

  “I’m here.” He pulled her close and wondered if it were a dream after all. Despite his weariness and everything he had yet to face, he’d never felt so content. He gave into the sensation and let it carry him away. As he slipped into dreamland, he murmured her name, savoring the sound of it on his lips.

  * * *

  She was at the bottom of the sea. Brina, Gormlaith and Ullach floated by her. They appeared to be sleeping, or dead. A scream rose in Ailinn’s throat, but no sound came out. She wanted to shout, "Wake up! Don’t leave me here!”

  They looked so peaceful as they drifted along on the current. Ailinn swam after them, feeling frantic. Drawing close to Brina, she reached out for her maid, but her fingers grasped empty water.

  Despair overtook Ailinn. She tried again to scream, but the water filled her mouth. She couldn’t breathe...couldn’t...

  She woke with a gasp. Warm comforting arms drew tight around her and she realized she was sitting on Magnus’s lap. She recalled sitting down next to him. He must have woken and pulled her into his arms. It felt wonderful to have him hold her. To experience the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took. His warmth and strength surrounded her, enveloping her in safety.

  As the panic and horror of the dream faded away, Ailinn began to have another reaction to being so close to Magnus. Arousal. His left arm was pressing against her breast. Her nipples grew taut at the thought. Her whole being felt warm and alive. She breathed in the scent of him, barely detectable beneath the odors of seawater and damp wool, and wished he would waken and kiss her.

  Impulsively, she turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his. He mumbled something, but didn’t rouse. Disappointed, Ailinn adjusted her position. At least she could enjoy the pleasure of his nearness. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against his chest. Mmmm. Even this much intimacy was delicious.

  * * *

  When she woke, the sky was a dazzling apricot and rose. Ailinn savored the sight for a moment, then gently eased Magnus’s arms from around her and slid from his lap. As she stood, she saw that several members of the crew were up and about. Remembering Vibold’s words, Ailinn grew uneasy. It would be safer to stay here with Magnus, but she needed to see to the other women. She rose and hurried to the tent.

  Inside the tent, she found Brina and Ullach awake and sitting up.

  “Has Gormlaith roused?” Ailinn asked.

  Ullach shook her head. “But I think she’s better. She mumbled a few words awhile ago, although I couldn’t make out what she was saying.”

  Aili
nn’s worries eased. She smiled at Brina, who still looked wan and pale, but better than she had. “You appear much improved.”

  “Aye,” Brina agreed. “I no longer want to die every minute,” she said, smiling. “And I was able to eat a little. Where did the food come from?”

  “Magnus,” Ailinn answered, thinking this was another thing they owed him for.

  “What’s going to happen now?” Ullach asked.

  “What do you mean?” Ailinn responded.

  “Are we still going to York?” Ullach asked.

  “I suppose so.” Ailinn frowned. She must try to convince Magnus to return to Ireland.

  “And what will happen to us then?” asked Ullach. “Will we still be sold as slaves?”

  “Of course not.” Brina patted the younger woman on the arm. “Magnus would never sell us as slaves.” She hesitated, her face darkening suddenly. “At least not Ailinn.” Brina raised her gaze to meet Ailinn’s.

  Ailinn realized she had a new worry. Although she was fairly certain Magnus didn’t intend to sell her, she had no way of knowing what he planned to do with the other women.

  “I’m certain Ailinn can convince him not to sell us either,” Brina said. “Can’t you?”

  “Of course,” Ailinn answered, wondering how much influence she had with Magnus. She really had no idea where she stood with him. He’d rescued her from Croa, but for what purpose?

  Doubts filled her mind. What did Magnus intend to do with her? She’d been so relieved to be free of Croa—and so grateful to Magnus for rescuing her—she hadn’t thought beyond the joy of the moment. Magnus hadn’t treated her like a captive, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t one.

  The harsh truth struck all at once. If Magnus desired her and wanted her for himself, he would take her back to his home in the northern lands and make her his bed thrall. As much as she desired Magnus, the thought of belonging to him dismayed her. She didn’t want to be any man’s possession, no matter how kind and generous he was. She wanted to return to Ireland and reclaim her family’s lands. That was the only future that would content her. But how was she to do such a thing? Even if she could find a way to return to Ireland, how could she regain control of her family’s property? To do that would require warriors and she had no means of obtaining them...