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Falcon Warrior (The Swordswoman Book 3)

Page 24

by Malcolm Archibald


  Melcorka felt the disapproval of the Elders at this plague she had brought on her city. She thought quickly. 'There is empty land on the fringes of our Empire. Give these people clothes and food and grant them that land.'

  'As you wish, Eyota,' the Elders said.

  'And re-instate the guard patrols,' Melcorka said. 'The Elders shall appoint warriors from every tribe to patrol one area of the city and keep down theft and rape.'

  'It shall be as you say, Eyota,' the Elders said. 'What shall the elders do when they catch anybody?'

  Melcorka thought for a moment without inspiration. 'What would be normal?' She temporised.

  'Death or slavery,' the Elders replied.

  Melcorka frowned; death seemed too severe and she did not approve of slavery. 'Limited slavery,' she decided. 'If the patrols catch anybody they shall be enslaved to the patrol's tribe for a period of one year.'

  'It shall be as you say, Eyota,' the Elders agreed.

  'Is there anything else?' Melcorka asked.

  The Elders glanced at Erik. Their spokesman faced Melcorka.

  'The Council of Elders has heard many people asking why Eyota of Cahokia has a bodyguard of foreigners. Does she not trust her own people?'

  Melcorka raised her eyebrows. 'Do you dare criticise me?' She felt anger mounting within her.

  The Elder straightened and held her gaze. 'I am repeating what the people are saying, Eyota. You arrived here with the pale foreigners and have appointed them to positions of authority. The people of Cahokia wonder if you trust these unnaturally pale foreigners more than you trust them.'

  Opening her mouth to blast this impudent old man back to silence, Melcorka paused. How would the Picts of Fidach or the Gaels of the Isles have felt if some foreign potentate had arrived as their king and brought a bodyguard of Norse, or Cahokians? They would have felt deeply insulted and within a few weeks, some of the young warriors would undoubtedly have challenged or at least provoked the bodyguard.

  'You are right, Spokesman,' Melcorka allowed, graciously, after a pause. 'I apologise for my behaviour.'

  The Spokesman looked embarrassed at this magnanimity from a woman he considered nearly divine. 'No, Eyota; there is no need to apologise.'

  'There is every need,' Melcorka said. She turned to her smiling bodyguard. 'Erik; I want your Norsemen to help Chaytan.'

  'Help Chaytan?' Erik frowned. 'We are Norsemen: we are not here to be ordered around by some naked Skraeling.'

  Melcorka was thankful that he spoke in Norse and not in a language that the Cahokians could understand. Even so, it was obvious by his tone that he was displeased. The Elders watched without expression. Melcorka knew she had to be as authoritarian with Erik as she would be with any Cahokian in a similar situation.

  'I am Queen!' She snapped, wondering if she sounded anything like Frakkok. She hoped so. 'You will obey me or suffer the consequences.' She saw Erik's face darken with rage and his hand stray to his sword hilt. She moderated her tone. 'Think of the Varangian Guard,' she said. 'They are noble Norsemen and they are proud to serve as bodyguards to the Byzantine Emperor.'

  Erik dropped his hand a second before Melcorka called for Chaytan. 'These people are Skraelings, not civilised Greeks.'

  'These are my people,' Melcorka dropped her voice to a menacing hiss. 'You will treat them with respect.' She held his gaze until Erik looked away.

  The Elders watched, seeing all and saying nothing.

  'Now bow to your Queen,' Melcorka sharpened her tone. 'Bow! Or by the sun I will bring in the guard and force you to your knees!'

  Erik took a deep breath and bowed.

  'Thank you.' Melcorka faced the Elders. 'Thank you for your time, help and advice,' she said. 'You may now leave to attend to your own business.'

  The Elders left in a solemn row, unsmiling and dignified as befitted their position and ages.

  'Now, Erik,' Melcorka said. 'Don't forget that I am Queen here. I am Eyota to these people.'

  'I remember you as Melcorka of Alba,' Erik said, 'not Eyota the Skraeling.'

  'You know that I am no Skraeling,' Melcorka removed Eyota's head-band and smiled. 'And sometimes I wonder exactly what we are sitting on out here. There is a handful of us and many hundreds of these very brave and skilled men. We have already lost Bradan and many fine warriors.' Melcorka shook away the pang that mention of Bradan brought to her heart. 'If these people ever find out that I am not Eyota, God only knows what they will do.'

  'My Norsemen would take care of them,' Erik said.

  'All of them?' Melcorka raised her eyebrows. 'The Norse are doughty warriors, but so are these men. Chaytan is as bold and tough a fighting man as any I have met.'

  'They are Skraelings with stone hammers,' Erik scoffed.

  'Thor has a stone hammer,' Melcorka reminded softly, 'and he is said to be a good warrior.'

  Erik shook his head. 'You are too clever with words for me,' he admitted, as his good nature returned.

  Melcorka laughed, remembering her previous thoughts about this man. He was so different from Enapay. Indeed he was so different from every man she had ever met and a complete contrast to the typical Norse warrior that he tried hard to emulate. The impulse to put out her hand and take hold of his arm was too strong to resist. His bicep was hard enough for any fighting man. 'More importantly, I wish your company tonight.'

  Erik looked confused and pleased simultaneously. 'What about the Skraeling. He normally keeps your bed warm. Are you not his woman?'

  'Tonight I wish you,' Melcorka said. 'Enapay will have to look elsewhere for a woman.'

  'He can have one of mine,' Erik said carelessly. 'I have plenty.'

  'I'm glad to hear you are so generous with your women,' Melcorka said dryly. She knew that Erik slept alone. She hid her smile: Erik was like a young teenager, eager to impress a female with his warrior skills and sexual prowess.

  Erik's smile was a reminder of the youngster Melcorka had met in mid- ocean. She shook her head. 'You are some man, Erik.' The idea came to her as quickly as her passion rose. Taking hold of his arm, she pulled him close and kissed him full on the mouth.

  'Oh!' Erik pulled away.

  'Erik!' Melcorka could not help her exclamation of surprise. She knew then, that he had absolutely no experience of women. She remembered his discomfort in Greenland with the Skraeling women and her smile was entirely genuine. 'It's all right, Erik. You can trust me.'

  'You caught me by surprise…'

  Melcorka ended his bluster with another kiss. 'I know,' she whispered.

  'You know…?'

  'I will be your first woman.' She said the words softly as her attraction to this nervous, handsome and totally unique young Norseman increased. 'We will make it memorable, you and I. Come with me.' She led him by the hand into her bed chamber and closed the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Erik smiled at her across the table, looked away and returned his gaze, still smiling.

  'You look happy,' Melcorka gestured to a servant to refill her goblet, tutting when the girl nearly spilled a drop.

  'I've never felt happier,' Erik looked stunned. 'Thank you.'

  'For what?' Melcorka shook her head. 'Oh, for that. Don't be silly.' She watched the delicate manner in which he ate. 'You had better go and ensure your men are all right,' she said.

  'I'd prefer to be here with you,' Erik told her.

  'Off with you,' she shooed him away. 'Go on,' she pushed him out of the room, watched as he walked away and returned to her breakfast.

  Erik was the most unusual Norseman Melcorka had ever met. Polite, diffident and usually happy, he was handsome as sin and surprisingly clean. Melcorka had not had to pressurise him to wash the previous night and had watched as he even washed in the morning. She sat back on her couch, wondering. While Enapay was all-man, tough, masculine and as confident as a warrior should be, Erik was … she searched for a word. What was he? Vulnerable, perhaps. Melcorka stood up. She felt responsible for him as she had for
his sister.

  That was the truth. She had killed Erik's father and caused the death of his mother yet still Erik liked her; more than liked her if his behaviour of the previous night was any indication. She smiled at a sudden recollection of their activities, shook her head, smiled again and took a deep breath. Erik. She ran the name through her mind, pondering the simple double syllables and the hard ending. Er-ik; he was the very opposite of his father and nothing like his mother. He was handsome and kind and gentle in a way she had never experienced in a Norseman before. For a second she compared him to Bradan and then shook that thought away; that was unfair to him. It was unfair to both of them. It was unfair to all three of them.

  He would make a fine husband in time.

  That thought slid through her subconscious and into her conscious before she was aware of its existence. Melcorka shivered; ever since Greenland, she had thought of Erik. He had infiltrated her mind in a way she had never expected and now that Bradan was lost, Erik was available. A gentle, amenable man such as he was would be a fitting partner for Eyota. He would do her bidding without demur as any Queen's consort should.

  Melcorka began to pace the width of the room; eight steps forward, turn and eight steps back, with her short tunic snapping against her thighs and her sandals padding on the stone flagged floor. She had been Melcorka; now she was Eyota. She was Queen of Cahokia with servants rushing to do her bidding, armed bodyguards to protect her, a palace in which to live, clothes and food to last forever, prestige, a huge city and prosperous country to rule and a whole host of handsome men gasping to share her bed. And now she had a willing, deferential man who would be an excellent partner for life.

  Melcorka continued to pace as the thoughts crammed and battered through her head. She could settle here. She could leave her life as Melcorka completely behind and become Eyota, Queen of Cahokia forever.

  Melcorka closed her eyes as a future of luxury and power beckoned.

  Why not?

  Melcorka shivered; why not indeed. She was wanted here; she belonged here and she was needed here. She smiled; she should not indulge in such thoughts when she had her duty to perform.

  Reaching for the head-band she placed it over her forehead.

  'Chaytan!' she shouted. 'I wish to tour the city.'

  Chaytan was there within a minute, stone mace balanced across his shoulder and two sturdy Lakota warriors at his back.

  'As you wish, Eyota.'

  The city was quiet without the teams of slaves working on the pyramids. In their place were groups of idle men and women dressed in rags or in less than rags.

  'Are these the people who have been causing trouble in my city?' Melcorka asked.

  'Yes, Eyota,' Chaytan kept close by her, with his mace held ready. The other two Lakotas watched the ex-slaves through hard, watchful eyes.

  'I have given the Elders instructions to clear the problem,' Eyota said.

  On every previous occasion when she had walked the streets of Cahokia, Melcorka had been greeted with smiles and near-adulation. This time the people remained politely respectful but no more. Remembering the problems that the Elders had brought to her attention, Melcorka nodded. She would cure this city of all its ills. She was Eyota, Queen of Cahokia.

  The man bowed low as he approached. Tall and copper-skinned, his teeth flashed white as he smiled and explained his problems with noisy neighbours

  Melcorka paused to listen to his words while her eyes were busy with his body. Truly there were many advantages to being a Queen. All she had to do was rid Cahokia of these pestilential ex-slaves … that man was extremely impressive. Eyota crooked her finger to him.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  'You look a bit concerned, Enapay,' Melcorka turned away from the view. She liked to stand on the parapet looking down on her city.

  'I am worried for you, Eyota,' Enapay said.

  'For me?' Melcorka did not hide her smile. 'You have no need to worry about me.' Stretching out, she touched his arm.

  Enapay pressed closer. 'I have news that you will not like, Eyota.'

  Melcorka felt her smile freeze. 'Tell me Enapay.'

  'I hope you do not think I am causing trouble.'

  'I have no reason to think that, Enapay.' Melcorka defended him stoutly. 'Please tell me what you have to say.'

  'May I show you, Eyota? It means leaving the palace.'

  'I am sure I remember how to walk,' Melcorka said. 'Do we need Chaytan?'

  'No, Eyota, unless you wish to have somebody killed.' He hesitated for a moment. 'It is better that you do not have an escort or anybody that could draw attention to you.'

  'As you wish, Enapay.' Melcorka said.

  Stopping only to pick up Eyota's head-band, they left the palace and the citadel, walking quickly down the stairs that descended the great pyramid. As always, Melcorka was impressed by the skill of the builders; there had been nothing on this scale when she lived in Alba. Indeed she would have been surprised if there was anything as large as this anywhere on the European continent, although she had heard that Rome was quite large.

  Not that it mattered. Cahokia was her home now.

  Enapay slipped through the gate and trotted westward through the city, with Melcorka following without thought or worry. For the last few weeks, she had been used to moving at a more sedate, regal pace so it was refreshing to stretch her legs and use her muscles again.

  'Where are you taking me?' Melcorka gasped slightly with effort.

  'Here, Eyota,' Enapay guided her up a small, partially completed pyramid that overlooked the Mississippi. 'I don't like to show you this,' he said, 'but it would not be right that you did not know.' He pointed toward the river.

  Melcorka started as she saw Catriona lying on her side on the bank. She had almost forgotten what the ship looked like after so long. She shook her head; that life was long gone now. She may decide to keep Catriona as a reminder or just have her burned. But that was not what Enapay had brought her to see.

  Attached by two mooring ropes and floating in the river, Sea Serpent was river-worthy in every way. Her mast thrust skyward with the sail furled to the spars; her forestay and backstay had been recently repaired and replaced and some of her planking renewed. Skilled hands had repainted the dragon figurehead so the eyes gleamed and the teeth were sharp and white.

  Erik stood in the stern. He gave sharp orders to his crew in between enjoying caresses from the group of shapely women who were around him. Not only Sea Serpent had altered. Erik's hair hung around his face in neat braids in a style similar to that his father had adopted. One of the women slipped her arms around his waist and he laughed.

  Melcorka felt the lurch of betrayal. Erik was her man. Was he not?

  'Thank you Enapay.' She forced the words out. She was not sure what to say. 'It seems that Erik Farseeker and the Norsemen are planning to leave us.'

  'I know you are friendly with Erik,' Enapay said.

  'Come with me,' Melcorka said.

  'Be careful Eyota,' Enapay warned. 'The Norsemen can be dangerous. I could fetch some warriors if you wish to challenge them.'

  'There is no need,' Melcorka was already walking down the steps of the pyramid, careless of her safety or dignity. She stalked to the riverside in time to see Erik engaged in a passionate kiss with a young woman.

  'Lend me your knife,' Melcorka took Enapay's knife and cut through Sea Serpent's mooring cables. The flint blade was sharper than she had expected and parted the cable without effort.

  'Hey!' It was Knut who first noticed that Sea Serpent was drifting with the current. 'Who did that?'

  'I did!' Melcorka shouted. 'I see you are planning to leave.'

  Erik disentangled himself from the woman and stepped forward. His smile was as fixed as ever. 'Farewell, Melcorka.' He lifted a hand. 'Enjoy your exile with the Skraelings.'

  'What?' Melcorka stared at him. 'Erik! What are you doing?'

  'We are going home,' Erik said. His laugh was mocking. For the first time, he lo
oked and sounded very much like his father. 'Did you really think I would stay as your pet? I am a Norseman! We are bred to the open sea, not to be stuck hundreds of miles inland with naked savages!'

  Melcorka felt Enapay stiffen at her side.

  'I am Eyota of Cahokia!' Melcorka said the first thing that came into her mind. 'I order you to return!'

  Erik laughed again, with the other Norsemen joining in. Knut spat his contempt into the river.

  'Oars!' Erik ordered and the Norsemen took their places on the rowing benches as if they had never been away. 'Sail!'

  They hoisted the great striped sail and it rippled and then bellied in the breeze. Sea Serpent eased slowly into the deep-water channel in mid- river. For a moment Melcorka considered calling out the guard and following her in canoes or racing upstream to replace the boom at the frontier. She did neither. What would be the point in forcing reluctant foreigners to remain in her kingdom?

  Melcorka watched Sea Serpent take Erik away from her life with the dragon-head pointing the way back to the north. Suddenly she felt very lonely in this foreign land so far from everything she knew and understood.

  'Eyota?' Enapay's voice was deep. 'Have I offended you?'

  Melcorka touched her head-band. 'You have not offended me, Enapay.' The dragon-ship was well upriver now with the ripples from her wake breaking creamy-brown on the bank of the river.

  'I never trusted these foreigners,' Enapay said.

  Melcorka did not smile. 'I rather liked Erik Farseeker,' she said. 'He was…' she searched for a word she had once used. 'He was cute.'

  'He is gone now,' Enapay said.

  Sea Serpent was out of sight round a bend of the river with a copse of overhanging trees blocking Melcorka's view. Melcorka was entirely alone while Eyota was Queen of this great empire.

  'Come, Enapay,' Melcorka said. 'We have a city and a nation to rule.' She placed her hand on his naked thigh, enjoying the rubbery feel of hard muscle. The last wave of Sea Serpent's wake broke on the Cahokian shore of the Mississippi.

 

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