With Dragons She Walks

by Darby, Brit

  She was lost and likely would die soon. The thick forest of trees surrounding her blurred in her gaze as the tears fell, icing her cheeks, and she pondered death. Would she merely fall asleep and freeze to death? Or would some creature, hungry and ferocious, come upon her and eat her? The shiver that shook her was not from the coming night’s chill, but her vision of such a dire ending.

  Again, she pondered how she came to this end. As always, her thoughts settled upon one name, one person who ruined everything. Cailin was the cause of her woes. She did not blame Ragnald; nor Bjorn for getting himself killed by that painted Pict. It was the witch and her visions she cursed.

  Surely Cailin was not a mere seer, but a dead walker, sent from Eljundir by the goddess Hel. How else did she possess such power to destroy others? The cunning to convince Ragnald to turn against his own flesh and blood? She had no doubt the woman was not of this world.

  As Thyra’s eyes closed, she knew who to blame for her death.

  GUNNAR WATCHED THE SHORELINE slowly disappear in the ship’s wake, as the Dreki Logi set sail again. A feminine hand slid up his chest and long, slender fingers caressed him. He turned to look into the woman’s dark eyes. He recognized the look that lit them.

  It had only been a week since he’d come upon her, huddled beneath her blue cape in the woods near Birka, nearly frozen and starving. Yet, Thyra already acted possessive of him, her gratitude to her savior unending. Gunnar wasn’t opposed to sharing his bed, or enjoying her skills at curbing his sexual appetite. He simply wished it was someone else he held in his arms.

  If Thyra was aware of his longings, she did not show it. She knew she would have died had he not found her and was smart enough to be grateful. How fortuitous for him she was able to give him a great deal of information about the other woman he sought.

  Gunnar consciously stilled the growl of anger that nearly escaped him as his mind turned to Cailin. He didn’t know the entire story, Thyra’s account of what happened back in Birka made little sense. She claimed Cailin traveled with her husband, a Pict, and his cousin.

  Thyra’s description of the men, especially the one with Dragon tattoos, fit the two men Cailin purchased before she fled to Sweden. Gunnar had figured out where she would go, and by what roads.

  Sending his ship ahead, he followed her on horseback overland, hoping to catch her before she reached Birka. Several days of hard riding out, he found Thyra, banished by Ragnald. He wasn’t so naive as to believe her story completely, and he knew she cleverly left out certain facts about the events that transpired.

  After their arrival in Birka, Gunnar had his men quietly scour the city to find out the truth. He was well aware of Thyra’s complicity in Axell’s murder, and how Bjorn had died in Holmgang. He didn’t much care about her going from a dead man’s bed to his without so much as a whisper of grief. It struck him that Thyra was the sort of woman who would claim love, whilst plotting against the source of it. What turned his blood to ice was hearing about Cailin — and Cailin’s husband.

  For years, he had loved Cailin, worshipped her. But she refused to become his wife. Now, from all accounts, she had taken a husband — a man she barely knew, a lowly slave, a Pictish cur, not worthy of licking his boots. Rejection turned into hate, slowly, surely. Gunnar felt overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. He still loved Cailin, wanted her. Yet, he hated her and dreamed of killing her, but not before taking what he had longed to possess for years.

  “You are tense, my love,” Thyra cooed, her fingers tracing the outline of his lips. “Perhaps I can soothe the beast in you.”

  Gunnar grabbed her hand to still her touch. “I doubt even you could do that.”

  Her eyebrow arched. “Can I not? I daresay there is nothing I cannot do.”

  Her look was smug, confident, and Gunnar considered the possibilities. “You promise much, woman. Perhaps it is in my nature to inflict pain upon someone. Would you then be so willing?”

  “There are many things that can push your desires beyond mere passion, pain is but one of them. I am well versed in the arts of lust, my dear. Let me take you into my world, and you shall never regret finding me in the woods.”

  He chuckled, and whirled her around, her back molded against him as he pulled up her dress to bare her skin to his touch. Thyra seemed uncaring that they stood on deck, even the night giving them little privacy from the eyes of Gunnar’s men. In deference to him, they silently drifted away.

  Gunnar growled into her ear. “I already regret having found you, witch.” Without preamble he loosened his trousers and plunged his hardness deep into Thyra, her gasp telling him he filled her completely, his roughness making her whimper and squirm beneath his brutal thrusts. “You are dangerous and cunning, woman. But I’ll gladly fuck you to death.”

  Again and again, he drove harder, deeper, pummeling her painfully into the steering oar. She pushed back against him, moaning, wanting more, her hands pulling him closer as if she craved pain. Gunnar obliged. He grasped her hips, grinding against her fiercely, hungrily. Losing himself in her wetness. “You are wicked.”

  His seed burst from him as he moaned, “You are wanton.”

  Gunnar strained and spilled his lust, his hate into the woman — the woman who was not Cailin. He growled and panted in her ear, “Be careful what you offer a man, lest you find one who is immune to your witchcraft.”

  For a moment, even Thyra was afraid.

  EVEN THE GENTLE ROCKING of the ship couldn’t lull Cailin to sleep. They had secured a spot on a galley crossing to Novgorod. A tent was their only protection from the elements. Drake and Leo slept on the deck floor, giving her the small pallet. During the entire trip, Drake was quiet and sullen. He only spoke when necessary. Even Leo was moody, aware there was strife, but not knowing how to fix it.

  Cailin kept telling herself it was for the best. Drake should not feel duty-bound to stand husband to her. Nor she as his wife. It was merely for convenience that circumstance came about at all. They were strangers, the passion they shared fierce but short-lived. It was best they not complicate things with the inexplicable desire they felt for one another.

  Determined upon this course, Cailin tossed and turned on the lumpy pallet, trying to find comfort in the long, lonely night. Sleep, she must sleep. Tomorrow they would be in Novgorod. She must sleep.

  Drake heard Cailin shift, aware she was unable to sleep as she moved fitfully. It was the hardest thing he had ever done to keep his distance. He knew his silence had cast a dark mood over them all, but he found it easiest to speak as little as possible to her. Each moment, each second he feared he would fall prey to those violet eyes, beautiful eyes filled with sadness and despair.

  Despite past experiences, despite many promises made to himself, he was in love with Cailin. It made no sense. He argued with himself to no avail, and he knew it was hopeless to deny it anymore. But he also realized what he felt didn’t matter. She had made it clear he had no obligation to her, as her husband or otherwise. So that was how it would be.

  For now, he would keep his distance, for his own sake and hers.

  Cailin’s soft, even breathing told him she had finally fallen asleep. Knowing then she was safe, he too drifted off.

  Chapter Twenty

  “COME FIND ME, CAILIN.”

  Lachlan’s laughter drifted to her and she uncovered her eyes. She ran into the adjoining room and quickly spotted his shoes showing beneath the curtain. Poor Lachlan, he really was quite bad at hiding, even the curtain moved as he squirmed behind it.

  Not wishing to spoil his fun, Cailin pretended to be looking for him. She searched beneath the bed, behind the door, everywhere but where he stood, making a big show of her search. Finally, when he contained his giggles no longer, she approached the curtain, calling out, “I wonder where you are, brother.”

  When Cailin jerked the curtain aside, she found herself face to face with Lachlan. But the boy she expected to see was not there; before her stood a man full grown. He no longer laugh
ed, his eyes reflected sadness and fear.

  “Tell me he is lying, Mother.”

  Cailin whirled about to find a room now filled with people, many faces she could not name. Except for two; her birth mother and Edwin, her uncle — no, not her uncle, in truth they shared no blood. Just as the last time she had seen him, instinct told her he was up to no good …

  “Lachlan,” Cailin awoke with a cry, the dream still clouded her mind.

  “Are you all right?”

  Drake’s voice penetrated her daze and she turned to see he was kneeling beside her. She struggled to breathe, her heart pounded so hard it hurt. She saw the tent flap folded back, a stream of moonlight bathing the man beside her.

  Strong arms pulled her close. “It’s all right, you’ve had a bad dream is all.”

  His soft, comforting words brought her back to reality, soothing, calming her. He held her tightly, protectively.

  “What is it, Cailin? What frightened you so?”

  “I—” she swallowed hard to relieve the tightness in her throat. “I’m all right.”

  Drake drew back and looked at her pale face, his concern unrelenting. “You don’t look all right.”

  She pushed at his chest to escape his embrace. “I assure you, I am fine.”

  Her tone made him release her and rise from her side, but he still wasn’t convinced. “Who’s Lachlan?”

  “What?”

  “You called out for someone named Lachlan. Who is he?”

  “No one,” she lied, uncomfortable with his questions. “Go back to sleep.”

  “I see,” Drake felt frustration and anger touch him. “You expect me to trust in you, trust your bloody visions, and mythical Dragons — but you won’t trust me. What are you hiding? What is it you will not tell me?”

  “It was a dream, nothing more,” Cailin muttered, avoiding his gaze.

  “Does a lover’s name linger on your honeyed lips?” Drake felt jealousy clutch him, and at once regretted his words, when he saw the pain on her face.

  “Damn it,” Leo cried, turning over and facing them. “Do you think you two might stop bickering and let me get some sleep?”

  “Mind your own affairs,” Drake groused.

  “How can I?” Leo sat up and looked from one to the other. “What the hell happened between you two? You’ve been dancing on eggshells for days, avoiding each other like the plague. Normally, I would try and mind my own business, but, since we are forced to be in such close proximity to one another, I am unable to ignore you two any longer. So, out with it.”

  “It’s nothing,” they both chimed at the same time.

  “Yes,” Leo drawled sarcastically. “I can see how nothing has you two fighting.”

  He stood, pulling his blanket about his shoulders. “I am going to go sleep on the other end of the deck, so please do continue to fight about nothing.”

  “Leo,” Cailin said, her voice pleading, “please, you mustn’t leave. Let’s just all go back to sleep.”

  “Aye,” Drake said. “Let’s just ignore the problem, shall we?”

  He couldn’t believe he was the one wanting to talk and the expression on Leo’s face showed he was shocked as well.

  Leo looked at Cailin. “I would seize this opportunity, my friend. In all the years I’ve known this man, I’ve never known him to willingly dredge anything up of an emotional bent. So I beg you, talk to him. I will be elsewhere trying to sleep, and absolutely promise not to listen should you two decide to make up and, well … you know …”

  When neither of them spoke, Leo ducked out of the tent and closed the flap behind him, leaving them alone. An awkward silence filled the space.

  “Why are you—” again both spoke at the same time, both stopped and fell silent.

  Cailin started again. “Why are you angry, Drake?”

  “I—” Drake hesitated as if he found the words hard to say. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Cailin. That doesn’t seem to be what you want and it makes me angry.”

  There was a long silence in the darkness. “You love me?”

  “Aye,” Drake’s voice sounded husky, strained. “From the first moment I looked into your eyes, I was lost. To be honest, I don’t know how a man in love acts. I only know that hearing I’m not the man you want for a husband is hard to hear, harder to bear.”

  “I did not say any such thing.”

  “You said you would not hold me to promises made under the circumstances.”

  “It is true I would not have you as husband simply because you felt honor-bound to speak false vows in haste. I wish only for a husband who loves me, as I love him.”

  With a sigh, Drake sat on the pallet beside Cailin and fumbled for her hand in the darkness. He took her hand in his and kissed it. “Do you love him, as he loves you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “It makes no sense,” Drake said, pulling her closer.

  “No, we are practically strangers.”

  Drake reached up and pulled the delicate ribbon tying her hair back, releasing and spreading it about her shoulders. Such a simple action reaped great reward as the scent of her filtered to him. Unable to resist, he buried his face in her silken mane, feeling it soft upon his cheek. “Do you think Leo is asleep yet?” he whispered in her ear.

  “It matters not. He promised to not listen,” Cailin said.

  Drake brushed his lips over hers. “We Talorcans stand by our promises, no matter what.” He eased her back onto the pallet with him.

  Cailin was already pulling his shirt over his head. “We can be very quiet.”

  Drake laid her down, then finished shucking his trousers in haste as he heard her doing the same. “Yes,” he chuckled low, his lips seeking hers. “Very.”

  The two lovers came together like dry brush set to flame, each starving for the other’s touch. Drake laid his weight on Cailin as she welcomed him into her, their need so great they spent no time on foreplay and build-up. A wild sense of urgency drove them both to fulfill passion before speaking tender words of love and devotion.

  Later then, as they lay entwined in one another’s arms, they spoke openly, honestly. They were no longer together for convenience, honor, or bargains struck, but simply because of their love as husband and wife.

  CAILIN AWOKE FOR THE second time that night, another dream disturbing her slumber. Her full attention focused on the silence, sensing something amiss in the quiet surrounding them. She heard it before she smelled it, the crackling of flames grew with each second that ticked by.

  Pulling away from Drake’s warm embrace, she quickly dressed, slipped her scabbard on and tugged on his arm to awaken him. “The ship is on fire.”

  Her words sounded calm, belying her inner fear as she tied her hair back with the ribbon Drake sensuously removed only hours before. They now heard other shouts as the crew on board the galley clamored about in panic. By the time they ducked out of the tent, the fire was everywhere, the deck engulfed in destruction. The wind drew the smoke away from them, but already stacks of cargo flamed into deadly mountains; the crew’s attempts to put the fire out had failed. Many were already diving overboard, risking their lives in the thrashing sea below.

  Drake and Cailin thought as one: “Leo!” Their cries drove them toward the far end of the deck where he had gone to sleep, but already flames raged along the sides of the galley and the abandoned wooden oars scattered about the deck only lent more fuel to the fire.

  The two of them inched their way across the deck, stopped as a mast crashed down, blocking their way forward. Then they spotted Leo some distance away, climbing above the fire on a rickety stack of crates not yet aflame. Looking the other direction, they saw a dinghy tied to the stern used to ferry men ashore. Drake yelled to Leo above the roaring fire.

  “We’ve got to get to that boat, it’s our only chance.”

  “We can swim to the other side of the ship and climb up the rope ladder,” Leo shouted back.

  Drake nodded. There wasn’t any choi
ce. He shouted in her ear, “Wait for us here, Cailin. We’ll come around and get you in the boat. Stay close to the edge.”

  Cailin understood. The sea was freezing, and as small as she was, she’d never make it to the other side before succumbing to the cold. “Be careful.” She gasped for air as the wind switched direction, blowing plumes of smoke over and around her.

  Suddenly, both men were gone, leaping over the side and into the frigid darkness. When they disappeared below the bow, Cailin turned back to the blaze consuming the ship about her. Flames licked and twisted up the masts, spreading now across the crumbling deck. Her space was limited. There was no time for them to come back for her. It was then she saw Disir, perched upon the smaller craft. He cawed to her, his wings flapping as the fire whipped about him.

  Cailin closed her eyes against the heat that singed her hair, felt hot tongues licking at her face as the fire crept closer. She drew a deep breath; smoke filled her lungs and burned her nostrils. She saw her Dragons, their whispers faint in her ears. Slowly, the sound drowned out the roar of the fire and her racing heart calmed, her breathing evened. Her Dragons filled her with strength, they called to her, and their whispering song guided her. Without further hesitation, she stepped into the flames and made her way across the burning deck to the stern as Disir flew off into the night.

  The canvas cover over the dinghy was aflame but she yanked it from the wooden bones and quickly untied the smoking, singed ropes that moored it to the larger ship. Sparks fell and burned through her clothes, but Cailin felt nothing. What would have blistered another, merely felt like the comforting warmth of a fire on a cold winter’s eve.

  She ran to the edge of the galley and searched the darkness for Leo and Drake. When she saw their silhouettes in the water by the light of the fire, Drake was only feet from the side of the ship. Suddenly Leo disappeared, a wave taking him under. When he did not reappear, panic struck her heart.