by Phoebe Conn
Appalled by the boastful man’s assumption, Celiese set the tray down carefully upon the table without daring to look up at Mylan. She knew him to be a proud man and she did not want to hear his response, for he would be no more pleased by his guest’s teasing than she was. As she turned to go, the man who had spoken reached out to grab her wrist.
“What is your name, girl? The story is a confusing one, I’m told. Are you slave or wife? What do you call Mylan, master or husband?”
She struggled to pull free, but the man held her too tightly and finally she had to look toward Mylan for assistance, her gaze imploring him to speak in her behalf. The look in his light eyes terrified her though, for his glance was filled with hatred and she was certain it was directed solely at her. In desperation she gave the obnoxious visitor a hoarse command. “Unhand me, you swine!”
Astonished by the clear ring of authority in the young woman’s voice, the startled man released her with a quick slap to her fanny and gestured toward the pitcher of ale. “I like a woman with spirit, but there will be enough time for me to see to you, girl, after I have quenched my thirst. Well, Mylan, perhaps if my original proposition does not please you I can make another one that will.”
When the two strangers burst into deep peals of hearty laughter, Celiese did not tarry but reached for the pail and ran to the door. “I need more water to prepare our supper,” she said breathlessly, then left the house. But the second she turned the corner she dropped the pail and fled for the safety of the woods on the far side of the stream. She ran on and on, not caring if her only gown was ripped or if her arms and legs were cruelly scratched by thorns. She kept on running until she feared her lungs would burst, and she had to sink down behind a thick clump of bushes to catch her breath before she rose again to flee ever deeper into the forest to where she hoped the hateful men would never be able to find her.
When dusk fell and she could no longer make her way through the dense underbrush, she crawled beneath the only shelter she could find, a tree uprooted by a long forgotten storm and left half buried in the earth. She was cold and tired, and desperately afraid, for Mylan had sworn once that he would sell her at his first opportunity, and she was certain by now the money had already changed hands.
Chapter 9
Mylan leaned against the doorway of his house, waiting impatiently as the sun rose, his keen gaze sweeping over the fields in the distance with the same care to detail he had given the sea. The land was flat, uninteresting to view in the pale light of dawn, devoid of the constant motion that made the sea the most fascinating of sights. He cursed loudly, though no one would hear, and turned to pick up his bow and arrows, deciding if he had to search for Celiese he would at least make good use of his time.
He doubted she would ever come back by herself; she was too willful by far to return on her own and beg his forgiveness for leaving his home without permission. He had apparently been much too lenient with her; she was more spoiled than Olgrethe, surely, for that haughty girl had the excuse of her class, but Celiese was no more than a slave. The word caught in his throat, for he had failed completely in his attempt to make her accept such a lowly status. Nothing about the lovely young woman reminded him of other captives he had known.
She always looked directly at him, her gaze neither servile nor defiant, but curious, questioning, until he was usually the one to turn away, for he found the clarity of her expression troubling. It disturbed him greatly that she had such a guileless glance when he knew her to be capable of the most treacherous deceit. Everything about her annoyed him, for she moved about his small house with the grace of a princess, as if she were the finest of ladies surrounded by luxury rather than the housekeeper of one young farmer who despised the land.
Lady Celiese d’Loganville, he whispered to himself, her name rolling off his tongue like the melody of a favorite song, and he halted abruptly, realizing he was doing a poor job of tracking. Giving all his attention to his task, he returned to his home to begin anew. The pail lay where she had thrown it, and when he found the trail of footprints ended at the water’s edge he crossed the stream and searched carefully until he found the marks her tiny feet had made as she had sped over the mud. He laughed to himself as he spied her path easily. She had moved too swiftly, carelessly leaving a trail of broken twigs and trampled grass. A boy could track so obvious a trail as the one she had left, and he quickened his pace as his spirits rose in triumph.
The shrill call of the birds greeting the new day startled Celiese as she came fully awake, sitting up so suddenly she struck her head upon the tree that had provided her only shield against the chill of the night wind. She shivered and rubbed her arms, but as she attempted to rise, Mylan clamped his hand down upon her shoulder, forcing her back upon the earth.
“How could you have become so lost while going to the stream, Celiese? Is it not a straight path from my house to the water’s edge?” he asked sarcastically, his handsome features set in a taunting leer.
She looked up slowly, fearing the worst. She saw the hopelessness of her fate clearly in his eyes. His fingers gripped her shoulder securely, but when she placed her hand lightly over his he drew away. She had found the warmth of his touch irresistibly appealing, and even on that bitter morning when she sat cold and hungry she longed for the comfort of his embrace and marveled at her own weakness. At least he had come for her alone, and she would not have to face all three of them at once.
“I am not lost,” she replied calmly, turning his menacing question aside sweetly.
“Oh, but you must be, for surely you know the penalty for a slave who flees from her master, for one who runs away so foolishly as you did yesterday.” As he stepped back his curious gaze swept over her slowly. She looked as though she had spent a most miserable night, and yet her confidence seemed undiminished by her ordeal.
She lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the morning sun. He carried only his bow and quiver, so what did he plan? “I have never been punished by a Viking for any crime, Mylan. I cannot even imagine what cruelty you might wish to inflict.”
Her comment sickened him thoroughly, for there was not the slightest trace of fear in her gaze, only a sadness so deep he could scarcely bear to see it. When he tried to answer his voice broke, and he covered that display of weakness by clearing his throat with a deep cough before speaking again. “It is not cruel to teach a slave her place. It is the right of the victor in any battle to make slaves of the defeated and bend their wills to his.”
“You and I have fought no battles of any kind. The same villains who are your enemies also attacked my family. Why do you not regard me as an ally rather than a slave?”
“Get up!” He commanded hoarsely, exasperated beyond endurance since her point was well taken, and he had no way to refute it. “I have no desire to make allies of young women. Since you are so dreadfully ignorant, I will teach you that any slave who runs away can expect to be whipped, beaten severely when she is captured and returned to her master.”
Celiese rose slowly and smoothed out the wrinkled skirt of her tattered dress. She was sorry to see the pretty garment had been ruined, especially since she had no other. “You cannot afford to whip me, for it would greatly reduce my price if you left me scarred, and I know you planned to ask all you could possibly receive for me. Is the matter not already settled?”
He shrugged, perplexed by her query. “Who would buy such a continually troublesome woman as you?”
Now she was the more confused of the two. She studied his expression closely, but she could discern nothing to help her understand his meaning. “What of your friends who came yesterday, did you not sell me to them?”
Amazed by the ridiculousness of her assumption, he scoffed impatiently, “They are no friends of mine. They wished to hire me to captain a ship for their raids, but I’d sooner rot here on my excuse for a farm than lead a band of pirates out to pillage. I gave them no more than one sip of ale and sent them on their way.”
Lyin
g with what he hoped was convincing bravado, he continued, “They took scant notice of you, Celiese. Are you so vain as to think they’d have paid me for you?” They had, in fact, approached the subject, offering a more than generous amount, but seeing his total lack of interest, had not pursued it, despite their great desire to own such a captivating beauty. He had forgotten he had once threatened to sell her; the prospect was unthinkable to him now, and he was sorry she had remembered his boast and feared he had carried it out. Knowing it had been her own fright rather than something he had done that had caused her to flee his home lessened his anger considerably.
She looked away to hide her sorrow, but his criticism had hurt her far more deeply than he had realized. “What I do know is that Vikings think nothing of asking their host for a pretty slave, and no man is so inhospitable as to refuse such a request.”
Mylan fought back the wave of red haze that marred his vision, but he was so infuriated by her comment he could scarcely see. “Was that what you saw in Raktor’s home?”
“Yes,” she replied softly. “But I remained hidden whenever strangers were about.”
“So you thought I would give you to any man who knocked at my door?” He stared down at her, horrified she would think him no better than Raktor in the manner of his conduct toward her. He had made no secret of his desire for her, perhaps had been too obvious about it in the last few days, but he had never meant for her to think he would allow others to share her favors when she was his alone.
She did not reply, but her unspoken answer was in the sorrow filling her luminous green eyes, and he reached out to take her arm as he changed the subject abruptly. “Come, it is a fine morning for hunting, and I am wasting time here that could be better spent elsewhere. You are fortunate the bear that lives nearby did not perceive your scent, or I would have found little left of you this morning.” Her skin was cool and he drew her close, hoping to warm her slender body as well as lift her spirits.
“Is this where the bear attacked you?” She looked about them anxiously, certain the animal must be lurking close by.
“Yes, and he’s a vicious beast who would have devoured you in no more than two savage bites. He is enormous and lives just beyond the rise. Would you care to see his cave?” He pointed the way with a broad sweep of his arm.
“No!” She backed away, still uncertain of his mood. “I believe you.”
He eyed her with a skeptical glance. “Then that is the first thing I’ve told you that you’ve accepted without an argument.” Delighted to have won even so small a concession from her, he started off in the direction he had indicated without once looking back to see if she were following, but she had no desire to be left behind and hurried to catch up with the tall man. He led her on a winding path through the trees, stepping so carefully that not a twig snapped beneath his feet to warn the creatures of the forest of his presence.
When at last he had the cave in sight, he reached out for Celiese’s hand and drew her close to his side as he whispered, “Do you see the mouth of the cave beneath that rocky, ledge in the hillside? That is his lair. Bears are solitary beasts, preferring to mate then leave their females to have their young and raise them alone. He roams far and wide, so you must never stray so far from my house ever again, for you would be too tasty a morsel for him to resist.” As he glanced at her frightened expression the stern line of his mouth softened to a teasing grin, but she was so intent upon spotting the ferocious beast that she failed to notice his smile.
She scanned the rocky terrain, expecting the gigantic animal to appear at any moment, her tension mounting until it nearly suffocated her, and, at the precise instant in which she thought she would surely faint, the stillness of the morning was shattered by a deep growl that could have come from no other animal. Mylan shoved her behind him as he withdrew an arrow from his quiver and set the notch in his bowstring, ready to attack should there be cause, but no other sound came, nor did the bear show himself. After a long moment Mylan relaxed his alert stance and beckoned for Celiese to follow as he started back in the direction from whence they had come.
That he had moved so swiftly to shield her body with his own at the first sign of danger had astonished her, and she stayed in his shadow as they left the woods. Why had he done so? She wondered. Was it no more than a reflex, a man’s natural instinct to protect a woman? She could not help but hope there had been some feeling for her in his action, but the events of the last afternoon had confused her so completely she did not know what to think about him.
She watched him closely as they walked along, his golden curls shining in the bright sunlight with a healthy sheen, the muscles that crisscrossed his broad back flexing and relaxing as he moved, his long legs swinging rhythmically from his narrow hips, his stride confident, despite the slight limp that marred his gait. In every way she thought him the most handsome of men. The sun was high overhead when they came upon a wide, sunlit meadow, and when Mylan paused suddenly to rest she was so lost in her own daydreams she nearly slammed right into his back before she realized he had stopped walking.
“Why are we stopping here?” she asked softly.
He brought his fingertip to his lips to warn her to be silent, and she stood quietly by his side, not wanting to disturb him when he seemed to be straining to hear something upon the morning breeze that she could not yet discern. She watched him casually take an arrow from his quiver and fit it against his bowstring, but when he began to pull back the string and turn toward her she gasped in horror. She saw only the gleaming tip of the deadly arrow as it flashed in the sunlight and shut her eyes tightly to force away the terrifying sight of her own death. The arrow sped by her cheek so closely she could feel the wind made by its path, and, fainting, she slumped forward upon the soft new grass.
Mylan threw down his weapons and gathered the slender woman into his arms, kissing her lips lightly before he called her name. “Celiese, Celiese!” He shook her, but she did no more than moan softly, and satisfied that she would soon revive he laid her down gently and walked across the meadow to the spot where the young buck lay and withdrew his arrow from the animal’s neck. It had died instantly, which pleased him, for he derived no pleasure from making an animal suffer needlessly when death should be sure and swift. He wiped the arrow upon the grass to clean it, then replaced it in his quiver and walked back to find Celiese sitting up watching him.
“I thought you enjoyed hunting, why have you been so anxious to come with me when you fainted at the death of a deer? That is the purpose of hunting, which I thought you understood, to kill animals for their pelts and for food.” He bent down on one knee and regarded her pale complexion closely before lifting his hand to caress the smooth curve of her cheek. Her face flooded with color as she blushed deeply, and he chuckled as he teased her. “That is better. I cannot carry you back home as well as the deer.”
She was dreadfully embarrassed to have been so foolish; it was obvious now he had been aiming over her shoulder and not at her at all. “I’m sorry. I have not been hunting in a long while, but I would not have fainted had I known that animal was your target rather than me.”
“You?” He laughed out loud as he got to his feet. “Your imagination seems to know no bounds this morning, woman. Now, the hour grows late and we are a long way from home.” Handing Celiese his bow and quiver to carry, he walked back to the deer, got a good grip on the carcass, and slung it over his shoulder. His burden was heavy and he kept his thoughts to himself as they returned home, but his mood was still a good one when they finally arrived. “We will roast some of this venison now and dry the rest to preserve it. I do not even hope that you know how to prepare hides.”
“You know that I don’t,” she admitted readily, for his smile did not waver, and she realized with delighted surprise that he was teasing her for a change rather than criticizing her for her many failings.
“I will prepare the meat. Heat water so I can bathe when I finish. There is a tub on the far side of the shed. We
ll hurry, fetch it so I’m not kept waiting.”
“As you wish,” she replied sweetly, but she feared she was the one in need of a bath. She found the tub, and after dusting it out rolled it into the house and placed it near the hearth. Since Mylan was going to skin the deer and carve up the meat she thought it only fair she help him in whatever way she could, but the buckets of water were heavy and she soon wished she had known how to prepare the hide. When at last he came in she had the final kettle of water heated and ready to pour into the tub.
After pulling his tunic off over his head, Mylan sat down to unlace his boots. “I built a fire outside so we’ll not fill the house with smoke. You know how to turn the spit, but it does not have to be done so often as with a bird.”
“Yes, I understand.” She waited a moment, pleased he had taken the time to tell her what to do in a pleasant tone, but when he stood up and reached for his belt she turned to go. It was his home, and he knew where to find soap or a towel to dry himself, but before she reached the door he called her name.
“You may stay here with me if you like, Celiese, I have no objection to your company.” He smiled broadly, his invitation a sincere one as he gestured toward the tub.
She gripped the door handle tightly as she lifted her chin. “Surely I’m not allowed to share your tub when I’m not permitted to sit at your table.” She left before he could respond, but she had been serious. She would not share one part of his life if he excluded her from all others. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she rushed out to check the fire roasting their supper. It was burning well, so she leaned back against the nearest tree and watched the flames dance and sizzle as fat from the venison dripped into the fire.
