Aislinn’s eyes held him softly. “There can always be a first time, my lord. We shall see.”
The firelight danced along the blade of the sword as Wulfgar held it up and with his thumb tested its edge, then he bent again to honing out the nicks. He had discarded his tunic with the warmth of the fire and the long, sinewy muscles of his back and arms rippled and played in magnificent rhythm with his movements. At her place by the foot of the bed, Aislinn sat mending his chainse. She had laid aside her gunna and wore only a white kirtle. Seated crosslegged on the pile of furs and with her hair loose and flowing over her shoulders, she looked like some wild Viking bride of old. Perhaps some of the blood from those seafarers coursed in her veins, for the warmth of the fire and the sight of this man half naked and closeted with her for the night made her pulse beat faster. She bit through the last thread and the thought crossed her mind that were she that savage Viking maid she might rise now and go to him and caress that sleek and shining back, run her hands down those mighty arms—
A chuckle burst from her as she considered what might be his reaction. At the sound of her laughter Wulfgar’s gray eyes rose and regarded her quizzically, and Aislinn turned her attention quickly away from him to folding the garment and putting aside her needle and shears. Wulfgar jerked and cursed lightly and raised his thumb to show her a tiny gash where a drop of blood welled brightly.
“Your humor wounds me,” he quipped. “Does the sight of me amuse you so?”
“Nay, lord.” Then she blushed deeply for her own haste in denying his accusation betrayed to a small degree her interest. She was amazed at herself, for it seemed now she almost enjoyed his company and would even seek him out on any plausible excuse. What truth lay in Kerwick’s words? Was she more the smitten maid than the vengeful vixen?
Wulfgar returned to his labor as she took up another of his garments and began to mend it with careful attention. A light tapping at the door disturbed the domestic tranquility of the scene and upon Wulfgar’s answer Maida entered and bobbing to the lord seated herself close by Aislinn.
“How fared your day, child?” the mother inquired in a chatty voice. “I saw you not, for ills and troubles kept me busy in the town.”
Wulfgar gave a derisive snort at this woman talk and bent close to his blade as he whetted it carefully. Aislinn, however, arched her brows in question, for she knew her mother now cared little for the people and even less of their sicknesses but spent most of her day in seclusion wherever she could find it, plotting vengeance upon the Normans.
As she saw Wulfgar’s attention elsewhere, Maida lowered her voice and spoke in the Saxon tongue. “Does he not leave you unguarded a moment? Since the morning’s fare I’ve sought to speak with you but I always find some Norman perched by your side.”
Aislinn made a motion for Maida to cease, glancing quickly toward Wulfgar in apprehension, but the old woman shook her head and almost spit out:
“That bumbling ass does not know our gentle tongue and probably could not follow our thoughts if he did.”
Aislinn gave her the point, shrugging her shoulders, and the old woman continued anxiously.
“Aislinn, heed the Norman not but listen carefully to my words. Kerwick and I have set a way to escape and I bid you join us in the hour when the moon sets.” She ignored her daugher’s startled stare and took her hand. “We would leave these southern sties and fly to the north country where they are yet free and we have some kin. We can wait there until a new force is raised and then return and free our home from these vandals.”
“Mother, do not do this thing, I pray you,” Aislinn pleaded, trying to keep her voice level and calm. “These Normans are too many and they patrol the countryside. They would ride us down in the fields like thieves. And Kerwick, what will they do to him if they take him this time? They will surely choose harsher measures for him if he is caught.”
“I must,” Maida hissed and then again more calmly. “I cannot bear to see these lands once mine now trod by Norman heel and to give this one”—she jerked her head over her shoulder towards Wulfgar—“the pleasure of hearing ‘my lord, my lord’ from my lips.”
“Nay, Mother, ‘tis foolery,” Aislinn argued. “If you are so bent then go, but I cannot, for our people still bear the yoke of the Norman Duke and at least this lord”—she cast her eyes toward Wulfgar—“bears us some compassion and yields us small concessions however sorely won.”
Maida saw her daughter’s gaze shift and soften and she sneered. “Aaiieey, that my own flesh, my own tender child should set her heart upon a Norman bastard and desert her own kind for his lowly company!!”
“Aye, Mother, bastard perhaps and Norman true, but a man and a kind of man I’ve never set my eyes upon before.”
Her mother snorted. “He rides you well I see.”
Aislinn shook her head and raised her chin a notch. “Nay, Mother, never that. This is my bed where we sit and I’ve gone no further, though sometimes my mind betrays me and I wonder what adventure there would be seeking that fate.”
She motioned to her mother and they again spoke in French of woman’s things and doings. As they continued Wulfgar rose and returned his sword to its sheath and left the room without so much as a glance toward them though both watched quietly until they could hear his footsteps going down the stairs. Aislinn now pleaded in earnest with her mother to cease her useless planning and see more to the people of the town that she might ease their plight somewhat and not lead them to paths of revenge where they would find only the lash or the headman’s block.
Some moments had passed before Wulfgar returned, hitching up his chausses as if he had but yielded nature’s call. With a surly grunt in their direction he seated himself and taking up his shield began to rub it with an oiled cloth.
Maida came to her feet, giving Aislinn a gentle caress across her cheek, and bidding them both adieu slipped out of the room. Aislinn sat deep in thought, her contentment gone and worry beginning to take deep hold, until she raised her eyes and found that Wulfgar had paused and was looking at her with an almost gentle smile on his lips. She puzzled at his manner, for he nodded silently and returned to his work, but in some subtle way he seemed to be waiting for something.
Long moments dragged past. Wulfgar labored on and Aislinn’s nerves stretched taut with tension. The break came abruptly. Maida’s shriek rang from the hall and there was a loud crash and a scuffling and then silence. Aislinn’s eyes flew wide in horror and garments and sewing were flung in every direction as she ran to the door, threw it open and fled to the stairs overlooking the hall. There she halted in puzzled perplexity. Her eyes fell first on Kerwick, bound and gagged and chained with the dogs. His eyes blazed in fury but he wasted no more effort in struggling. Maida choked out curses as she hung helpless in Sweyn’s great arms, her feet high off the floor. She was dressed again in rags and a large bundle lay on the rushes where it had fallen. A slow anger began to build in Aislinn and her eyes darkened as it grew. She whirled in a high rage as Wulfgar’s voice came from the stairway behind her.
“What makes you seek to leave my room and board? Do you hate your home so much? Do you not find justice and reward here for labors well performed or is it perhaps that you find the northern moors more attractive?”
Three pairs of eyes turned to him and two jaws fell open as the three of then realized he had spoken in flawless English. Aislinn’s face burned as she knew then just how much he had heard from her very own lips. Her thoughts raced back to all the times she had spoken in his presence when she had felt assured he could not understand her, and her shame mounted.
Wulfgar descended the stairs, passing her, and strode to where he could look Maida in the eye. He gestured to her frayed and tattered garments.
“You old hag, I’ve seen you here before and did I not say if I found you here again that I would treat you as you deserve. Sweyn, tie this crone with the dogs and free that fellow’s arms before they eat him.”
“Nay!” Aislinn shriek
ed, flying down the stairs to stand before Wulfgar. “You will not do her thus!”
Wulfgar ignored her and gestured to Sweyn, and the Norseman did as bade. When it was done, Wulfgar stood before the leashed pair and spoke almost as a stern father to his errant children.
“You will no doubt find warmth in each other tonight. I bid you think well and converse on this evening’s game while you rest. Seek the wisdom of it all and remember this: Where I play the game you are but innocents of the world, for I know the way of courts and kings and men of politics and have played their games in earnest upon a battlefield. Have a good night—if you can.”
He bent to scratch one great hound behind its ears and thump its ribs in good comradery, then turned to Aislinn and without a word took her arm and led her to the stairs where he paused for a moment as if in thought.
“Oh Sweyn.” He turned. “Loose the dogs for a run in the morning and see if those two then can act like loyal slaves. They may even have their freedom if they promise to give up this foolishness.”
For his thoughtfulness Wulfgar received a murderous glare from Kerwick and a strangled curse from Maida. He shrugged and smiled almost pleasantly.
“You will feel differently on the morrow.”
Without further ado he proceeded to the chamber, his fingers firm and unrelenting upon Aislinn’s arm. A dog yelped as Maida’s foot found his ribs.
Wulfgar had closed the door of the chamber behind them and was just turning when he caught the full force of her open hand across his cheek.
“You chain my mother with the dogs!” she cried. “Then you will chain me beside her!”
Aislinn pulled her other arm back to strike again but found it seized in an iron grip. It did little to dampen her rage and she swung her foot against his shin, winning her freedom as he grimaced and grabbed his leg in pain.
“Cease, you vixen!” he bellowed. “Take care!”
“You played us for fools!” she screeched, stepping lightly away to seek something heavy to throw at him. A drinking horn shattered against the door behind him as he ducked out of its path.
“Aislinn!” he warned, but she was already grabbing for another piece.
“Aaaah, I hate you!” she shrieked, hurling it at his head. She did not wait to see that he dodged out of its way also, for her eyes were already searching for other weapons. With two long strides Wulfgar was upon her, wrapping his arms about her, pinning her own to her sides. Aislinn gasped as they closed tightly about her and felt his rock-hard chest against her back.
“Your anger is not because of your mother!” His voice thundered in her ear. “You know the merits of the whip had I laid that to her. You cannot but agree this is the gentler way.”
Paying no heed, Aislinn squirmed and struggled to get away. “You’ve no right to degrade her.”
“ ’Tis your pride you think has been damaged and you seek revenge because of that.”
“You played false with me!” She sought his foot with her heel.
Wulfgar’s arm slipped around her thighs to still the movements of her legs and he lifted her clear from the floor.
“Had I played falsely with you, wench, you’d have shared my bed by now.”
There was no answer for that and she could only shriek and squirm. He sat her down roughly in a chair.
“Now sit until your temper cools, my pretty vixen. I have no intention of letting those hounds nibble on your flesh.”
“I will not stay here in this chamber with you!” she cried, bouncing to her feet as he stepped away.
“You needn’t worry,” he mocked, smiling roguishly as his eyes swept down her body. “I do not intend taking advantage of your willingness.”
She flew at him and sought to lay another blow, but he grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her, crushing her against him. Her fury muffled against his chest, she lifted her foot to stamp upon his and immediately gained her release as her knee struck between his loins. Wulfgar groaned and stumbled back upon the bed as Aislinn looked at him in surprise, wondering what she had done to cause his pain, but she was without mercy and leapt upon him to press the attack. With an arm outflung Wulfgar tried to hold her off, but her fingernails raked across his chest, clawing deep furrows.
“You bloodthirsty vixen,” he choked. “ ’Tis time I taught you a lesson.”
He caught her wrist, dragging her face down across his knees, but before his hand could descend upon her, Aislinn wiggled from his lap and slid to the floor. Determined to mete out this punishment he deemed well deserved, Wulfgar reached down to draw her back, and Aislinn started violently as his hand met the bare flesh of her hip. The loose kirtle had slipped up and was twisted about her waist, leaving her lower body naked. Her eyes widened and her purpose changed abruptly. Now she fought to escape him as her raging anger dissolved in rapid waves and was replaced by a flooding fear.
She tried to pull away but his hand held her wrist in an iron grip and Aislinn felt herself relentlessly drawn to his lap. Her long hair twined about them hampering her battle, but her sharp teeth found his hand. Wulfgar grunted in pain and released her arm, then as she snatched away, reached for her again catching his fingers in the neck of her kirtle. There was a rending tear and the garment split from top to bottom as she straightened.
Aislinn stared down in mute horror at her own nakedness while Wulfgar’s eyes feasted greedily upon this glowing bounty. Her skin gleamed like pale gold in the warm light of the fire and her breasts, full and ripe, rose tauntingly between the remnants of her garment. His outraged hunger, long stemmed, flamed to its most fervent height.
His arms closed about her and in the next moment she found herself wrapped in her hair and torn kirtle and sprawled on her back upon the pelts of the bed. Wulfgar’s eyes met hers and Aislinn read in them that his time of waiting had come to an end.
“Nay!” she cried, flinging up an arm to ward him off, but he caught her hands and dragged them beneath her as his knee thrust between her thighs. Her weight lay on their arms and she gasped in pain at his brutal grasp. She began to curse him but her words were smothered as his mouth crushed down upon hers. Her head was forced back, arching her spine until her breasts were pressed full against his chest. His lips burned and beneath his deep, penetrating kiss she felt suffocated. He kissed her eyelids, her cheek, her ear passionately, murmuring soft, unintelligible words, and Aislinn dimly realized the raging ardor she awoke in him. Her panic rising, she lunged against him and met the hardness of his thigh between her loins. It only served to impassion him further. He pressed forward as she shrank away and released her wrists. Still she could not move in the tangle woven by her hair, kirtle and bedclothes. He cast his garments away and Aislinn gasped as he pressed boldly against her. He lowered her shoulders to the bed, freeing her hands from beneath her, yet holding them against her sides. It seemed that every inch of their bodies touched. Aislinn writhed and fought beneath him but the movement of her body only sharpened his desire. His mouth traced downward to her breasts and the blistering heat of his lips seared her flesh until she felt as if she were on fire. A strange warmth began to grow in the depths of her body and her pulse quickened. His mouth returned to take hers and she found herself clasping him to her and yielding to his flaming kisses, allowing herself to be swept away by his consuming passion. She gasped, half in surprise, half in pain as a burning ache spread between her thighs. She struggled furiously and sought to push him away, crying out. But he paid no heed to her protests as his lips moved against her throat. His hands easily caught hers as she tried to scratch him and he held them secure in an iron grasp, leaving her no defense as he had his way with her. Finally the towering passion was spent and Aislinn could only sob in anguish until he withdrew from her and moved away. Angrily she flung herself into a corner of the bed, tearing off the irrepairable kirtle and snatched covers over herself. Between her sobs of rage she laid every curse she could think of upon his head.
Wulfgar chuckled at her fury. “I would not have guess
ed it, but I must allow you’re one of the liveliest bits I’ve had in a long time.”
Smothered shrieks bore testimony to the rankling of his words.
Wulfgar laughed again, running his fingers along the four furrows across his chest. “Four strips of flesh for a romp with a vixen! Hah, but ‘twas worth it and I’ll gladly pay the price again.”
“You crawling vermin!” Aislinn choked. “Try it and I’ll take yon blade and extend your navel to your chin!”
He threw his tawny head back and his guffaws filled the room. Aislinn’s eyes narrowed and she fumed silently in rage. He crawled beneath the furs with her and smiled as he looked her way.
“Mayhaps there is one consolation for you, Aislinn. This bed yields more comfort than the floor.”
He chuckled and turning from her, presently went to sleep. Aislinn lay awake by his side, listening to the sound of his deep breathing until it seemed to vibrate within her own head and his words wore heavily upon her mind.
Forgotten already? Yea, he said he could do it, but could she him? Could she forget the only man who even now in her anger tortured her thoughts? She could hate him, loathe him, but forget him? There was great doubt in her mind that she would ever be able to. He was in her blood and she would not stop until he too was plagued by thoughts of her night and day. Play the witch or play the angel, she would have her way! After all, was she not proud Erland’s daughter?
Aislinn slept then with the ease of a child and woke drowsily in the middle of the night to feel Wulfgar’s warm body molded against her back and his hand lightly caressing her. Feigning sleep she submitted to his questing hand, but where his fingers touched her flesh seemed to burn and waves of delight tingled through her every nerve. He brushed his lips against the nape of her neck and his warm breath touched her skin. Aislinn quivered, closing her eyes with a sense of ecstasy. His hand slid down over her belly and with a gasp Aislinn rolled over on her stomach but found her hair caught beneath him, forbidding escape. She rose on an elbow and looked at him. His eyes glittered in the low light of the fire.
The Wolf and the Dove Page 13
