With Dragons She Walks

by Darby, Brit

  Inge rose and nodded toward her mother-in-law and two sisters. “We’ll see what we can find for you to wear. Magnus will make sure you’re well supplied tomorrow for your travels.”

  She started to leave but turned back to the couple, a shy smile touching her lips. “Cailin, we just finished our Saturday baths and I’m sure the fire’s still burning. Why don’t you and your husband enjoy one before the evening meal?”

  “A hot bath?” Leo chimed in eagerly.

  “You can have your turn when the newlyweds are done,” Inge said firmly.

  Leo had the decency to blush. The implication made him glance at Drake, then Cailin. “Certainly,” he said and cleared his throat, uneasy with the turn his lies had taken. “I’ll just enjoy some more of this fine mead … take your time, you two.”

  Inge’s two sisters appeared on either side of Leo, one pouring more mead while the other brought him food. Leo looked from one beautiful blonde to the other and immediately forgot the awkward moment.

  Cailin didn’t.

  Drake took her hand, drew her to her feet and pulled her along behind him as they left the house. “Where’s this bath house?”

  Cailin pointed to a small building near the stream.

  When he started toward it, Cailin pulled free from his grasp, annoyed at being manhandled. Drake stopped and scooped her up into his arms instead. A squeal escaped her lips but before she struggled in earnest, Drake hissed in her ear, “Careful, wife; someone is watching.”

  She glanced over Drake’s shoulder and saw Magnus standing in the doorway of the house. She had no choice but lay her head on Drake’s shoulder, looping her arms about his neck. She hoped from a distance Magnus couldn’t tell she was furious rather than passionate.

  Drake kicked open the door and steam billowed from the large wooden tub filling the room. He’d heard of the Norse penchant for bathing, and at that moment, it was something that appealed a great deal to him. How long had it been since he’d soaked in a tub of hot, steaming water, much less with a beautiful woman?

  Too long, he thought, again kicking the door shut behind them. In two long strides he carried Cailin to the platforms built along one wall and put her down.

  It was a huge, monstrous tub, and he felt an excited anticipation, making him feel like a kid about to play. Drake glanced at Cailin and all childish thoughts vanished; in their stead came the yearnings of a grown man as he remembered their lovemaking. Suddenly he was unable to think of anything but her, reflecting on the moments she was soft and passionate, squirming beneath him with desire.

  Now he felt like a man about to play.

  As if she sensed his changing mood, Cailin looked up at him and their gazes met and locked. “Most certainly not.”

  Cailin glanced away from Drake, seeming nervous as he continued to watch her. Slowly, he approached her as he might a skittish mare. “Would seem strange to the others if we do not bath together, wife.”

  She fidgeted at his words but stayed silent.

  Drake reached out and captured a wayward strand of red-gold hair. It was feather soft, but the woman herself was not. “I know the marriage story wasn’t your idea, Cailin. But you did not deny it either.”

  “How could I?” she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

  “For once, I have to agree with my cousin’s crazy whims. It does make sense. Would it be so hard to pretend, Cailin? After all, we have already been intimate, have we not?”

  “Yes, we have.”

  She admitted the obvious and Drake was pleased with this small victory.

  “Are you changing the terms of our agreement, Drake?”

  Suddenly, he was wary. He heard the edge in her question.

  “Let us speak freely. I assume you want to futter me again? Perhaps more during our long journey? How many times must I endure your touch before your lust is sated?”

  Her questions doused his anticipation like the icy water from a fjord. He stepped away, disgusted; with himself more than Cailin. Of course she would think that of him. Without another word, he stripped and eased himself into the hot water.

  Cailin knew her words were hurtful. When she said them, she wanted them to be so. But now, she regretted her verbal assault. She wasn’t generally a spiteful woman — what prompted her to be so now?

  Still, she hesitated to join Drake in the tub. It wasn’t uncommon for men and women to bathe together even when unmarried. But, with Drake, it was different. He desired her. It was clear in his manners, his movements, his words. And, shamefully, she returned his need with her own; last night her newly ignited passions raced through her like wildfire.

  She’d always believed there must be love first. An emotional foundation for two people to build upon, as they lived together, grew old together. Instead, she was driven by the shallow lust that consumed her, no less than he. Nothing more. How could it be anything more? They did not know each other, not as true lovers did. Yet, she had given her virtue to Drake, a total stranger. A man she bought, no less.

  Steam scalded her cheeks, billowed over her and briefly obscured Drake from view. Emotions raged inside her mind; she shivered with indecision as her body betrayed her in every way. Finally, Cailin undressed and slipped into the water. Whether Drake watched her, she didn’t know. She feared looking at him. Not for what he might do, but for what she would. Eventually she risked a glance.

  As if he found her presence unbearable, Drake remained with his back to her as he scrubbed himself. Cailin saw the scars criss-crossed randomly over his back, the same scars she had traced with loving fingers the night before, finding them almost beautiful then. Now they only reminded her of the slaver’s cruelty. She finished her own washing and waded through the hip-deep water to stand behind him, and saw him tense as she drew close.

  Silently, she took the soap from his hand and lathered his back, gently, careful not to make the cuts still healing bleed again. She heard his sharp intake of breath at her touch, but he did not move away. She traced the tails of the Dragons where they curled down one shoulder and up from his side, twisting and curling towards his shoulder blades. She felt Drake shiver.

  The Dragons whispered to her, soft and alluring. She turned him to face her and her hands continued their journey, sliding over his shoulders with the soap to scrub his chest. Her earlier dream of the Dragon haunted her, its fire engulfed her. Cailin’s eyes closed and she saw the creature still, its song echoed in her mind, its call bent her will to do its bidding, its flame searing her woman’s desire.

  The heat ensconced her, golden eyes devoured her. At first, she wasn’t even aware that Drake touched her, his hands sliding over her wet breasts, teasing her nipples into erectness. His caresses pushed her further into her daze and Cailin no longer wished to be released from its power. Here, lost somewhere between fantasy and reality, was where she wanted to stay. Here, she could freely give herself to the man she longed to claim her. Here, she might become one with the Dragons without the struggle of decision, without need for thought.

  Drake’s hands cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer, tight against his growing manhood. His lips found hers, demanding, plundering, an urgency making him moan softly when he finally, reluctantly, released her lips.

  He spoke huskily in her ear. “You are too beautiful to resist, Cailin, sweet and tempting. How can I not desire you? What man in my position would say he does not?”

  His voice, low and soft, resonated through her like a soothing, erotic touch. “I …” she whispered, opening her eyes to the golden spheres that seduced her, “I cannot say nay, any more than I can deny the Dragons that guide me. I am yours, my Dragon. It matters not why you are in my life. I cannot say no.”

  Again, his lips found hers. He drove her gently through the water until her back met the rim of the tub, and her hips floated up naturally. Without words she invited him, and she nearly cried with joy as she felt his maleness pierce her, fill her, make them one in their mutual need. Gasping, Cailin wrapped her legs about his
waist, pulling him deeper.

  Her tightness seemed to drive him mad. “You beautiful temptress,” he groaned, pumping harder, faster. “Are you real or a dream my lonely desperation has created?”

  An explosion shattered Cailin, starting from the core of her being and spreading its tingling heat to the tips of her toes. Drake responded in kind, his torso shaking as he released his seed into her, their age-old dance culminating in mutual ecstasy.

  He continued to hold Cailin close, his heartbeat strong, racing in his chest as she clung to him. Her own pulse slowed, her breathing grew normal. Still, she held on to him.

  Finally, he withdrew; the chill that engulfed Cailin came not from the night air that snuck through the cracks in the walls, but from his sudden absence. Sensing her despair, Drake cleansed her as she had him, his hands gentle, unfailing in their ministrations. A mood of tranquility descended upon the two lovers as he lathered her hair and rinsed the suds from it.

  Cailin wondered about this man, so brooding and dangerous one moment, gentle and caring the next. Did he truly believe her a figment of his imagination? Surely he knew she was flesh and blood, merely a woman with tremendous needs. The depth of her needs made her blush, even in a room already warm with steam.

  A soft knock sounded. When they did not respond, it came again, louder this time, more insistent. Leo’s voice broke the spell woven about them.

  “You two lovebirds have had enough …” he cleared his throat loudly, “time to yourselves.”

  His words sounded slurred, the mead he sampled was more than ample if judging by that. Drake moved to the edge of the tub and pulled himself out. He went to the door and opened it, but only enough to peek through the crack.

  Leo shoved a bundle of clean clothes through the crack. “Here. Inge thought you both might need some clothing.”

  Drake took the clothes and tried to shut the door. A hand shot in, preventing him from closing it. “I’ve been a patient man, Drake. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of a bath. Do not be selfish.”

  “Aye,” Drake agreed. “But it’s been even longer since I’ve had the pleasure of a good woman, Leo.”

  Hearing this comment Cailin yelped in outrage, then couldn’t help but giggle when Leo fell silent and the hand withdrew. Finally, Leo said through the door, “You’re a knave, cousin. It was a lie I told, remember? You two aren’t really married.”

  Drake was already pulling on his clothes. “You’re just sulking because I beat you to the beautiful lady.”

  Leo remained outside the door. Drake went to the side of the tub and easily lifted Cailin from the water. He kissed the tip of her nose, then smiled, the warmth in his eyes telling her he but jested with his cousin.

  “No,” Leo’s voice was serious now, wistful. “I knew from the first moment she came into our lives, this lady was meant to be yours.”

  “You did not,” Drake argued, stalling to give Cailin time to dress.

  “I could … I did.”

  “You’re just a hopeless romantic, Leo. Don’t read more into all this than there is.”

  Cailin wondered what it was Drake thought they had together. Then she chased the thought from her head as quickly as it had come. Drake was not like Leo; he wasn’t a hopeless romantic. Of that, she was certain.

  Whatever they felt, whatever they had would be over once they found Thorvald. She understood that, if nothing else. Yet, in her heart, she knew she would cling to whatever bound them to each other, until there was nothing more to keep them together. Until then, she would think on it no more.

  Chapter Eleven

  WHEN CAILIN AND DRAKE returned to the house, she couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. Inge and the other women had prepared a grand feast for them, the twinkle in the older woman’s eyes telling Cailin it was in belated celebration of her marriage. Guilt spread through her with the warmth of embarrassment, though the others seemed to take it as the shyness of a new bride.

  Drake too seemed taken aback, yet he displayed a good-natured smile for the men as they plied him with the honeyed ale, and joked about how soon they should all expect a son from the couple. They had gone so far into the lie, Cailin despaired what her family would think when they learned the truth.

  They were led to the head of the table, to a special place set in honor of their marriage. Drake leaned close after they sat, his whisper falling soft upon her ear. “You look like a woman headed for the gallows, not a bride filled with happiness.”

  She wanted to run from everyone’s heartfelt wishes, their innocent celebration of her deceit. Instead, aware they watched her, she forced a smile to her lips. She murmured under her breath, “They are my family, Drake; I shall have to face their disappointment when they learn the truth. When all is done, you shall go wherever it is you will go, and know no grief from this deception.”

  Drake considered her words. For the first time in a long time, he felt a stirring of something deep in his soul. When Leo first announced they were married, he was angry. Later, he saw the humor in it. Yet, at this moment, he’d never felt more confused.

  About what, he couldn’t put his finger on. How was this long-legged beauty who sat beside him capable of plunging him into heaven and hell in the same moment? Cailin’s guilt over their deception bothered him. He wanted to take her into his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. He’d make certain of it. The urge to reassure her was so powerful he reached for his tankard instead to disguise his shaking hands.

  Drake took a long draught of the ale and considered his next move. He sat perfectly still, fearing his resolve might waver and prompt him to make foolish promises he couldn’t keep.

  Leo soon joined them and the food was served. A feast covered the tables and trenchers — roasted pig, goose, venison, salmon and cod, vegetables, goat cheese and butter, barley bread, fruit and nuts. Barrels of beer, made from barley and hops, and mead from honey, water and yeast, flowed like water.

  Magnus stood and raised his drinking horn into the air. “I’d like to toast my cousin and her husband. May they know as many blessings and happy times as me and my Inge have.”

  Drake rose abruptly, raising his hand to stop the toast. “I — we — appreciate the sentiment, Magnus. But it’s just not right.”

  He saw the blood drain from Cailin’s face as he turned to her. Leo shook his head in a silent plea, trying to stop him, but Drake’s stern gaze kept them in their seats.

  “What I want to say is that though Cailin and I are committed to one another, it still seems wrong, somehow. With her father’s absence and no formal ceremony, we don’t feel properly wed.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd. It was Inge who replied with a warm smile. “That’s easily remedied, Drake.”

  “How? I don’t know what is customary in your country.”

  “Traditionally,” Inge rose and moved to Drake’s side as she spoke, “you would offer a bride’s price to Cailin’s father. Thorvald would provide his daughter a dowry. Both would become Cailin’s property upon marriage. Should you two divorce, this property would remain hers.”

  “Divorce?”

  “To divorce is as simple as marriage; you merely state your intentions before witnesses.”

  “’Tis that easy?”

  “Yes.” Inge nodded serenely.

  Drake turned his attention back to Cailin. She had not said a single word and he couldn’t tell by the blank look frozen on her face what she was thinking. He’d come too far to back down now.

  “Cailin, I have nothing of value to offer as your bride’s price, only my heart. Take it, and care for it always, as I am lost to you.”

  Cailin felt tears swelling in her eyes. The sight of Drake saluting her with his ale swam before her. She blinked them back. She’d be damned if she was going to cry and show him how much his gesture and words affected her, false though they were. Did he realize he was actually marrying her with those words? With her family acting as witnesses, he would be her husband in
truth now, she his wife.

  “Drake,” she whispered, rising beside him and drawing his head down to her so he might hear her over the crowd’s clapping. “Do you know what you are doing?”

  “Aye,” he mumbled, a sincere, warm smile punctuating his answer.

  “You must not do this, not for my sake.”

  He straightened, framing her face in his hands, searching her eyes. “Will you have me, Cailin, my love?”

  She saw he was determined to go through with the marriage for some reason. She wondered why, but the words escaped her without thought. “Yes, I will.”

  Magnus stepped forward, his chest puffed with pride. “As Thorvald is not present, might I have the privilege of acting as Cailin’s guardian?”

  Drake and Cailin nodded agreement.

  “I shall make a gift of three fine horses as my cousin’s dowry.” He held his hand out and Inge placed an ornately carved horn into it. Magnus handed it to Cailin.

  “Drink of the bridal ale, and you two shall be known as husband and wife.”

  Cailin took the drink and willed her hand to stop its foolish trembling. It was just as easy to divorce; Drake knew this now. That was the only reason why he was so willing to marry her.

  She handed the horn to Drake. He finished the drink, then held his hands up. “Now we can truly celebrate.”

  The crowd burst into cheers and laughter, delighting in the romantic scene.

  Inge held a candle out to Cailin. “There’s one more thing, Drake.”

  He waited.

  Hesitantly, Cailin took the candle and Inge lit it for her. Cailin felt the words stick in her throat. How could she say the prayer? It would hold no meaning in her life, her marriage. She saw Inge and the others waited, as did Drake.

  As she had in her dream, Cailin chanted, “As this candle flame grows bright and ever grows much higher. Freyr, Lord of Love, please bring to me love’s ever-burning fire.”

  She dared to glance at Drake. His expression was unreadable, but his golden eyes reflected the candlelight. With a quavering voice, she finished quietly, “Then as the flame does flicker low finally to depart, Freyr, Lord of Love, please give to me a true love, heart to heart.”