by Susan Wright
Lexander looked more sharply at me. “Did you have the chance?”
“Yes, after he raped me. I hit him in the head, but it was enough only to pain him.”
Lexander’s hands clenched into fists. “To think I could have spared you that fate! Truly, I did wrong when I sent you away from Vidaris. I should have gone with you though I had not decided to leave until that moment. It was a poor decision, made hastily.”
I could not bear the pain in his extraordinary eyes. “Do you regret abandoning Vidaris?”
“Never! I left because I had to. I regret only the things you’ve been forced to endure.”
“None of that mattered once I found you again.”
He reached out as if to take me in his arms, his fingers tensing as he stopped himself. I could not make myself move forward, to give the slightest sign of desire. I wanted him so deeply. I was heady just from being near him. I could lose myself in him, falling headlong into the Otherworld.
“Marja, why do you shun me?” he demanded.
“I love you! I do.” I dropped my eyes. “But I’m afraid ...”
His head turned as if I had slapped him. Then he took a step away. “You are right to fear,” he murmured. “When my people come to find me, as they surely will, there is nothing I can do to protect you. I must find another way to keep you safe.”
Before I could protest, he headed back into Ketil’s camp. The set of his shoulders was determined. I raced after him, catching up as he pushed his way through.
Silveta had a tear trickling down her face, but Ketil looked bored and resolute in his refusal. The rest of his retinue were curious but unaffected by her pleas.
Lexander addressed Silveta. “Freya, has this man acknowledged kinship with you?”
“Yes,” she answered, covertly swiping at the tear.
“Then as your bondsman, let me challenge Ketil to win his rightful protection for you.”
I stifled my gasp. Lexander had never sworn himself to Silveta . . . or had he? They had talked endlessly on the ship, and often I was lost in the sea spirits rather than listening.
Ketil pointed his knife at Lexander, a chunk of salmon speared on the tip. But it was a long knife, making his meaning clear. “You can’t force me to hire a warband.”
“No,” Lexander agreed with a slight smile. “But Silveta can demand that you recall the assembly.”
“Yes!” Silveta exclaimed. “Ketil, let me plead my case before the chieftains. They could authorize our venture, and it would matter little to the coffers of Issland to give me the warriors I need.”
Ketil was affronted, as well he should be at Lexander’s challenge. He drew himself up to his full height, as tall as Lexander and more massive in thigh and arm. “I will not recall the assembly by threat of a duel! If your bondsman wants to fight, then I shall give him that.”
The people around us erupted into cheers.
I grabbed Lexander’s arm. “You’ve forced him to fight!”
“It’s the only way. If I can beat him, he will support Silveta. Now stay back and don’t interfere.”
Lexander pulled away from me, joining Ketil as they sought a wide-open space. The revelers flocked to watch, bringing torches that lit the ground like day. Some shouted encouragement to Ketil, while others made bets on the outcome. I was gasping at how fast it had happened.
“Let this westerner see what kind of flesh is born of fire and ice!” Ketil shouted as he pulled off his shirt, revealing a broad, hairy expanse. His knee-length kilt freed his legs, which were protected by well-wrapped boots. He unhooked his huge ax from his belt.
Lexander had only his knife, shorter than the one Ketil brandished in his left hand. Lexander’s rough clothing and cap made him look more like an oarsman than the magnate of Vidaris. But there was something special about Lexander that even this crowd could see. He stood eye to eye with their largest man, a match for Ketil in every way. And he was eerily calm.
“Will no one lend him an ax?” Silveta cried out. “Would you go against an unarmed man, Ketil?”
“He has his pig sticker,” Ketil laughed. “It will teach you to better arm your bondsmen, Silveta.”
With that, Ketil lunged at Lexander, swiping his ax in a quick arc. Lexander didn’t flinch though it came within a hand’s breadth of his chest. Instead, he outwaited the swing of Ketil’s arm and moved forward to jab him with his knife. Ketil parried with his knife, taking another futile swing with his ax.
When they parted and faced each other again, there was more respect in Ketil’s eyes. He measured Lexander carefully before he resumed his attack. Without an ax, Lexander could hardly defend himself, much less pose a threat. Yet he kept whirling away at every strike.
It went on much longer than Birgir’s brief fight with Ejegod. Ketil had murderous intent in the force of his swings, especially as he grew more frustrated at missing Lexander. I expected a spray of blood to burst from his flesh at any moment. I wanted nothing more than to rush between them, to stop this madness. But Silveta was clutching my arm, holding me back. The fear in her face was not only for Lexander.
Then Lexander dodged in as Ketil lifted his ax. His knife glanced off Ketil’s belly, leaving a curving line of blood. From where I stood, it seemed Lexander could have sliced it much deeper, gutting his opponent.
Ketil roared in fury. His attack became more vigorous, driving Lexander back. The crowd scattered around them, shifting and moving as they did. I dragged Silveta along, though she would have stayed frozen where she was.
Then Ketil’s ax sliced through Lexander’s shirt, tearing the sleeve from shoulder to elbow. I cried out at the flow of blood, as red as mine. Somehow I had expected a god’s inua to look different. I almost prayed to Lexander’s people to help their own, but I feared they would descend on us in retribution. There wasn’t a single spirit at hand to call on, not even an olf to trip Ketil’s feet.
Lexander saw no one else, nor heard their taunts and rude cries. He focused on Ketil, as the heavy man grew winded from his exertion. Though Lexander was wounded badly, with blood dripping down his side, he was still light on his feet. He darted forward, then back, throwing Ketil off balance.
In a blur of motion, Lexander was suddenly inside Ketil’s reach. But this time his goal was not the belly. His knife slashed sharply upward, cutting into Ketil’s forearm.
The ax flew from his opponent’s hand. Lexander could have followed with a swipe at Ketil’s throat, but he stepped away instead. Ketil went down to his knees, still holding his knife. By rights, Lexander could have finished him off then. But he backed up another step, lowering his own knife.
Ketil’s bondsmen leaped forward to protect their chieftain. Though Ketil had not capitulated, there seemed to be no thought of continuing the fight. I feared what the bondsmen would do to Lexander now.
But in the silence, Lexander declared, “I call on you, Ketil, to honor your cousin’s request to recall the assembly.”
Everyone gathered around heard and knew why the duel had been fought. Though Ketil did not reply, from the crowd of men surrounding him, several of the bondsmen nodded acknowledgment to Silveta.
“Yes,” Silveta breathed, sagging in relief. “Now they must hear me.”
The revelers dispersed in a noisy throng as if the duel had been but a momentary diversion. Lexander was surrounded by well-wishers, hidden from my view. Meanwhile Silveta was taken in hand by Ketil’s serving women. She held on to me as if afraid of what would happen to her now that her declared bondsman had injured their chieftain.
From the way the senior woman behaved, I suspected she was Ketil’s concubine. His wife had remained on their estate, watching over their interests, and his daughters were not yet of marriageable age. The mistress was clearly furious with Silveta, but apparently it was expected that the defeated Ketil would take us into his entourage.
But when I looked around, Lexander had disappeared. I feared for his life, and my heart leaped into my throat.
One of Ketil’s servants finally directed me to the lake. I was thankful for the moon, without which I would have been in complete darkness. I followed the flat shore toward the cliffs. To one side a veil of steam drifted up, forming low-hanging clouds over the water. The plains looked much flatter from up here, spreading to the ocean, but I knew we stood on the shoulder of the mountains.
Then I saw the flicker of torches. Men were standing next to a round pool near the lake. It was Ketil’s bondsmen, tending the big man as he reclined in the blue-white water. It looked like ice, but heat radiated from the surface.
Lexander was also lying naked in the water. Nobody was tending him, and his eyes were closed. For a dreadful moment, I thought he was dead.
“Lexander!” I cried, rushing to him. I put my arms around his shoulders, bending to touch my face to his.
His good arm raised to hold me tight. But the other hung limply in the water. “Do not fear, Marja. I am healing. They claim these waters have restorative powers.”
I plunged my hand into the milky water. It glowed like the sky at dawn. The smell was very strong, as were the spirits who responded from deep inside the earth, where the everlasting furnace burned. They were healing spirits indeed, active from the heat and minerals that filled the water.
“Yes, this is good for you,” I agreed.
I checked his shoulder, lifting his arm as he grimaced. There was a nasty, jagged cut down the curved outer muscle below his shoulder. It gaped open at every movement, making me wince in sympathy. Blood welled up, staining the water pink.
“That must be cleaned and tied up,” I told him. He couldn’t move his arm at all. “It is very deep.”
“No, the water alone will help.”
The bondsmen were removing Ketil from the hot spring and were binding his wounds. From the drunken slurring of his speech, I could tell Ketil was not in mortal danger. He was drinking to relieve the pain of embarrassment. Surely he had done worse to Lexander.
The bondsmen carried Ketil away, taking all but one torch with them. One of them stared back at us as he left. I sensed more curiosity than animosity.
“This cut should be bound closed. You could bleed to death.” I wondered if I should ask the bondsmen to return to help me.
Lexander seemed wistful. “You forget that I am different from you. The wound will heal on its own. Already I feel it closing. There is nothing you need to do, Marja.”
My hands were on his arm. His skin felt the same as mine.
I pulled away, and he sighed in regret. But I unlaced my bodice and slipped off my dress, dropping them next to his clothes. Naked, I slid in beside him.
He clasped me close with one arm, and we bumped into each other, floating just above the smooth black rock on the bottom of the spring. It reminded me of my dreams. Perhaps I had envisioned this moment, when we would truly join together.
I molded my body against his. “I can’t live without you, Lexander.”
“I can’t put you at risk any longer,” Lexander swore, kissing my hair. “I was selfish to want to take you with me. You will be safe with Gudren and Alga, and that is all that matters.”
“No, I belong to you.”
He started to protest, but I wouldn’t let him. I kissed his cheek, then his lips. I pulled myself on top of him, floating with him even as his arm dangled uselessly. He tried to restrain himself but couldn’t.
“I want only you,” I murmured.
With the water spirits tickling my senses, I opened myself up to them, reaching out to Lexander at the same time. I knew I risked everything, the loss of my very self. But I couldn’t deny my desire any longer.
And in a breathless rush, I felt his emotions—the pain of avoiding me, of trying not to touch me, of knowing that I was afraid to be intimate with him. But his own longing raged, barely contained throughout our journey, when he wanted nothing more than to throw me down before the oarsmen and take me for his own.
No longer was he closed off from me. It was as if he poured himself into me, and I emptied myself into him. I could feel the throbbing pain in his arm like it was my own. I could also feel his arousal overwhelming everything else. For once he lay supine and I mounted him, swaying against him. All the while, I was feeling him as he felt my response. We rolled in the water, joined as one, as if in a dream.
The darkening sky overhead suddenly ripped in two. A curtain of blue light shone above us. Beyond it was another ribbon, rippling green. Everything was splitting apart and I was falling into the Otherworld.
I fought it for one brief moment, then held Lexander tighter, refusing to let go. I lost myself in him, surrendering completely.
When I finally came back into myself, the sky was still rippling with colored fire. But I was whole again.
“Am I in the Otherworld?” I had to ask.
“You’re with me,” Lexander whispered.
We were still floating in the warm waters of the spring. I could sense the pleased water spirits that had satiated themselves on our passion. In the distance was the sound of revelers in the camps, singing and shouting as their fete continued.
Eighteen
I woke at sunrise, curled in Lexander’s generous cloak. The clarity of the rising sun was very different from misty mornings in my homeland. The shadows were sharply defined, making the looming cliffs seem even more rough and jagged.
Lexander was floating in the spring again, its milky blue waters brighter than the silver sheen of the lake beyond. I relaxed, watching him. He slept little, from what I had seen on our journey. But his eyes were closed as he let the water support him.
Lexander had kept me safe last night. Though I had surrendered willingly, he had refused to let me pass into the Otherworld.
I stretched in perfect luxury. I was free to touch him now, to kiss him, to serve him in every way. I could let my passion shine in my eyes for all to see.
Lexander rose slowly from the water. Then I noticed his arm. The deep gash was now merely a dark line that marked his skin.
I sat up from my warm cocoon as he walked out of the spring. It was hard to believe my eyes. I had seen the badly torn flesh just last night.
My fingers touched his arm as he sat down next to me. It was nearly smooth, with only an amber ridge to mar it. His muscle felt hard as he moved his arm, showing me he was perfectly healed.
“Miraculous,” I whispered. “You are a god, indeed.”
Lexander laughed. “Closer to a man than a god, as surely you’ve seen by now. I must use my wits and my strong arms to get what I desire.”
His fingers twined in mine, drawing me closer. He took my lips, savoring our kiss. I melted into him again, wanting more, always more.
But voices grew louder as people approached. Lexander slipped into his weathered oarsman clothes and wrapped the rags of his shirt around his arm to hide it. “It’s best if no one else sees this. Don’t speak of it to Silveta.”
I nodded solemnly. Fear would drive their response if they knew a godling was in their midst.
I quickly donned the green dress that Alga had given me. Now there was no thought of me returning to live with the Sigurdssons. Everything between us had changed last night. Lexander would not let me go, despite his fears, and I no longer feared his touch.
As we started back down to the camps to find Silveta, I had to ask Lexander the question that had bothered me for moons. “My slave-mates who were sent away in the winged ship—are they with your people?”
“Yes.”
“Are they being hurt?” I dreaded the answer, but I had to know the fate of Rosarin, Sverker, and Ansgar.
Lexander put an arm around my shoulders as we walked. “I wish it were not so . . . but you deserve to know the truth. They’ve been separated by now, and are being handed from one master to another, treated as objects, without even the value our training house gives you. They are likely unhappy, though if they take pleasure in serving, their burden will be lighter. If they are lucky, they will find a loving master who
will keep them. But few are lucky.”
“You saved me.” I tightened my grip on his arm. “You gave up everything for me.”
“I could not harm your people any longer. Your mates were the last slaves I sent to that fate.”
It took until midmorning for the assembly to be called to order. The chieftains had celebrated until the wee hours and did not take kindly to having to assemble rather than depart for home. Silveta complained of having to go from camp to camp to coax nearly every chieftain to come hear her plea.
It seemed Lexander and I were avoiding everyone when we crossed the river, jumping from rock to rock. We passed through the meadow and climbed the grassy slope to the base of the cliffs. The rock appeared to have been torn with one side pushed high into the sky.
Lexander and I waited, looking over the peaceful plains. From the base of the cliff, I could no longer see the mountains or the plume of smoke that pierced the white clouds. Yet in the night, I had felt the ground rumbling as if in discontent. All was not well here despite the stark beauty of the place.
From our vantage point, we could see hundreds of people slowly making their way from the camps beside the lake, crossing the river to mill about in the meadow below us, between the river and the cliffs. Now I understood why the plants there had been trampled. Beyond the camps, the plains spread in undulating waves down to the ocean.
Still, I was surprised when the lawspeaker climbed up to join us, stepping forward as far as he could on the slope to address the crowd. Apparently the Isslandirs did everything outside, including their lawmaking.
Then Ketil appeared with his retinue. They climbed up the slope to join us and provided a stool for him as far back against the cliff as he could get. Ketil sat down, his elbows jutting out and his hands on his knees. He seemed unboth ered by the scratch to his stomach, but the bandage on his arm was thick, though it showed no seeping blood. His eyes were clear and alert, and I doubted there was any putrefaction in the wound.
