MacAuliffe Vikings Trilogy 3 - Lord of the wolves

by Graham, Heather

  She paused for a moment, breathing slowly, then started down the stairs again, hoping she could just slip out and find some of the others, Mergwin or Daria, Rhiannon, the children, Bryce or Bryan. But as she came down the stairs, she heard voices in the hall. Two of them. Eric"s and Conar"s.

  “I wish I could stay longer. You know that if you needed me, I would. But you seem to be at peace here now.”

  “Ever ready, but at peace. At the moment,” Eric agreed.

  Melisande came silently down a few more steps. She paused when she could see the brothers. They were alone, each with a cup of ale, seated at the great chairs before the fire, almost identical sons of the Wolf of Norway, great, broad and golden, confident, arrogant—and amazingly arresting and compelling.

  “There"s a great deal more trouble at home these days,” Eric said to his brother.

  For a moment Melisande thought he meant her home. Then she realized he was talking about Eire.

  “Father can always hold his own, his great walled city,” Eric continued.

  “Since grandfather died, though, Niall has not been able to keep the petty kings so well under control. It seems there is frequently fighting again. But,” he warned Conar firmly, “word has traveled for quite some time now. The Danes are amassing. Think of the Viking heritage! If there were trouble here now, I would call across the corners of the earth to gather my family to fight at my side. The Danes will extend this great quest farther. They will come in the thousands, it is said, and delve into the very heart of the Frankish kingdoms.”

  “The fortress is very much the same as Father"s Dubhlain,” Conar said.

  “Incredibly strong. The walls are strong and solid. A massive army can be held off from within.”

  “But the greater scene will be the land around you,” Eric warned. He waved a hand in the air. “Think of where we have gone, brother, just in the house of Vestfold. Into the Russias, down to the Mediterranean. Even into the land of the Islams. If these invaders are fierce enough, they will fight to the heart of the lands and someone will have to make a stand against them.”

  “What I fear,” Conar told his brother, “is that the Frankish barons will underestimate their foes.” He leaned forward, seeming to see into the past.

  “When Father came to Eire, he quickly made use of the horses he had seized.

  Most men think that Vikings are sea raiders, that we strike quickly, seize things quickly. Those who have not seen it do not realize that many raiders are quick to learn. Father settled in Eire, and now we have Viking ships that carry horses with us, well-trained mounts. It"s true that most Vikings will make use of their ships and the water. But there are those now who will make use of all that they take, who will fight on horseback and turn all that their invaded lands have taught them against the people.”

  “At least you are aware, and those you ally yourself with will surely have their eyes open.”

  “I think that one of the reasons I bested Gerald that day was that he never expected Manon"s help to come in the form of any army—half composed of Vikings—who would come across the sea with their own mounts.”

  “There"s where you will have to watch your back, brother. Enemies have long arms, and they stretch out across the years. You will have to take great care, to sleep with an eye open always.”

  “Alliances among the powerful barons are all that can save us, for the king in Paris is weak and is quick to pay danegeld, yet the price rises higher and higher.”

  Eric shrugged. “Remember, Conar, that we are here, if you need us. I pray that taking Melisande home and renewing your marital vows ceremonially will give you the edge that you seek. If Count Odo thinks that it is so, then it must be. And he will be a strong ally, I am certain.”

  “So am I,” Conar agreed. He continued, she could hear the deep tenor and passion in his voice, but Melisande didn"t hear the rest of his words. She felt as if her face were flushed with fever, as if her knees had suddenly grown very weak.

  So that was it! Anger gripped her with a sudden, painful ferocity.

  He had met Count Odo! And that great baron had warned him that he might lose his property if the other barons did not recognize his union with his wife.

  He"d had to come for her! It was no great kindness for him to take her home.

  He meant to have her repeat her vows to him. And with the marriage fully consummated now, there would be little she could say in protest.

  But she could protest. She could cause him a great deal of trouble if she so chose.

  Breathing deeply, she gripped the carved wood rail upon the stairs and raced back up the length of them.

  She entered her room and leaned against the door, her heart still beating wildly.

  So now she knew what he really wanted.

  But it didn"t change one thing. She wanted to go home. With every fiber of her being she wanted to go home.

  She was going home. And with something in her favor now. She had discovered something he wielded so well. Something that she could reach out and grasp now, at long last. Something of her own.

  Power.

  And she intended to use it!

  Chapter Fourteen

  In the afternoon she found the hall empty and managed to escape the house quickly. She hurried to the stables, where the grooms had become accustomed to her, but when she asked for her mare that day, the boy seemed uncomfortable and said that he must summon someone.

  She began to seethe, certain that Conar had gone about commanding she be given no freedom about the place—assuring himself that she wouldn"t disappear by morning. He had mocked her so about sleeping with devils just to be able to come home! When he had to have her with him!

  “Perhaps you should summon my husband, then, and quickly,” she told the boy. “For I am going riding. I will manage on my own, and I cannot imagine that you"ve been ordered to drag me off my horse … ?” If this was to be her last day here, she was going to go to the stream and say certain good-byes.

  Perhaps to her past way of life, she didn"t know. Something had already been lost. Innocence, maybe. And something had been gained. Knowledge, maybe.

  She needed to see the stream, to have some time there with the gently bubbling water. In one night she had realized that any dreams she had spun there were childish fantasies.

  But even before the lad could turn, Mergwin made a sudden appearance.

  “Get Melisande the mare she rides, and bring me my gentle old nag, lad. She will be in my care.”

  For a moment Melisande thought that the poor stable lad would protest again, but he looked into Mergwin"s eyes and quickly nodded his agreement.

  He disappeared to bring the horses, and Melisande stared at the old man and smiled slowly. “You knew he was coming and knew that he would take me home, didn"t you?”

  “I knew,” Mergwin admitted. “I fear my timing was rather poor, but then, had I had greater warning, I doubt if you would have paid me much heed anyway.”

  She smiled, biting lightly into her lower lip. “Maybe not.” She hesitated. “I haven"t seen Gregory—”

  “He was very anxious to return to Alfred in Wexham. The climate seems to have grown too warm for him by the coast.”

  The boy brought their horses. He offered Melisande a hand, which she accepted, though she was quite able to leap up unaided. “Get over here, my young lad!” Mergwin commanded him. “The lady is as agile as a mountain nymph, and I am as old as the mountain.”

  Melisande smiled, watching the disgruntled old man catapult his skinny body atop his equally old gelding with the lad"s help.

  He turned in his saddle, staring at her. “Well? Shall we ride?” She nodded and led the way. She leaned low against her mare"s neck when she reached the field, allowing the horse to canter slowly across the long grass.

  She saw the ridge and the trees and began to slow her gait, and in a moment she heard Mergwin wheezing as he cantered up behind her.

  “I said ride, not race!” he warned her sternly.
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  She turned around and saw the warm light in his old eyes and apologized quickly.

  “I forgot—”

  “It"s all right. You think that if you run hard enough, ride fast enough, you can escape. ”

  “You"re wrong. I don"t want to escape. I"m going home.” He was silent. Melisande reached out. touching his old gnarled hand where it rested on his saddle. “I am going home!” she repeated, a note of pleading in her voice.

  He watched her a minute and then sighed. “Aye, lady, you"re going home. It has all begun.”

  “What has begun?”

  “Great wheels will be in motion.”

  “The Danes,” she murmured disdainfully. “They are always coming. There is no great foresight in that!”

  “Your difficulties lie with more of the Danes.”

  She spun on him. “My difficulties lie with Conar. If you have missed that, Mergwin, you are one blind seer!”

  “I"m not a seer,” he denied indignantly.

  They had reached one of the little trails that led to the water. Melisande slipped down from her mare and started walking down the trail, pausing at the cool water, bathing her face with it. Mergwin followed.

  “There lies the danger!” he warned her softly.

  She sat back on a log by the stream, feeling the sun waft down through the trees to touch her face. She looked at Mergwin, aware that his old eyes were on her.

  “The danger?” she asked softly.

  He came to her side, and she was startled when he knelt there, holding her hand tightly between his own two. “You must take great care not to be divided.”

  She shook her head, hearing how earnestly he spoke, and ever aware that he had acquired a very strong affection for her. She freed her hand and touched his cheek. “I shall miss you!” she assured him. “I shall miss you with all of my heart. Unless—do you sail with us?”

  He shook his head. “Brenna will come home with you.”

  “Aye. Brenna,” she said coldly, and looked to the water.

  “Melisande, pay me heed—” Mergwin began.

  She turned on him, feeling an absurd tug on her heart because he had mentioned Brenna. “I must not be divided from Conar?” she said. “Mergwin, I didn"t want to leave my father"s land. He wrapped me in sheets and had his berserkers drag me out to his ships—”

  “He did not trust you to berserkers, ever, lady. Berserkers are those who fight so fiercely that their mouths foam. They bite their shields, fight in bearskins. In their wild furies, they may at times slay their own. Some say they are possessed of the spirits, children of the gods. He gave you to no berserkers, just good Dubhlainers.”

  “Mergwin, it was my land!”

  “And you were in danger on it.”

  “Ah, but now he wants me back on it!”

  “Because it has come time for you to claim it together.”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “It has come time for him to realize that I am of age, and he cannot claim it without me.”

  Mergwin shook his head sadly. “Melisande! You were so young when you were wed! What would you have had of Conar? He but waited until …” She arched a brow.

  Mergwin shrugged. “Last night.”

  She flushed. “Do you know everything?” she demanded irritably, and he shrugged again, a small smile curving his lip. “A blind seer might have known that, Melisande!”

  She colored, drawing her knees to her, looking to the water again.

  “Lady, you are stubborn!” he warned her. “But for both of your souls, for your future, your happiness, I pray you, remember my words!” He was so earnest that she touched his cheek again, then hugged him, holding tight a minute, slowly letting him go. She looked past his shoulder and started. Conar stood there, Daria, Bryce, and Bryan lined up behind him.

  She felt his eyes upon her, and she rose quickly, helping Mergwin off his old knees as she did so.

  He didn"t say anything. Daria was moving quickly toward her with her beautiful eyes bright and her lips curled into a wry smile. She stepped past Mergwin, hugging Daria fiercely. And then Bryan, and then Bryce, with whom she"d come to feel closest.

  “We shall miss you!” Daria told her. “I shall miss you! All the reckless rides, the books, the poems, the bawdy songs.”

  “Daria!” Bryce sighed.

  Daria grinned and then shook her head. “Rhiannon will miss you, the children love you so.”

  Melisande suddenly blinked, aware that tears were brimming just behind her eyelids. The three of them surrounded her, and she felt their warmth and affection. “I"ll miss you all,” she said huskily. “Very much.” She looked up and discovered Conar was still staring at her. His eyes met hers for a long moment, and then he turned and walked away.

  Daria began to speak excitedly again, “You"re not so far away, you know.

  Conar says that you will be traveling to various cities near you in the near future, but never fear, we are all great sailors, you know, and we"ll be there to visit you soon enough.”

  “I"ll be looking forward to that!” Melisande promised her. She sank onto the log again, suddenly having little strength. Daria sat with her, Bryan hunkered down to his haunches, and Bryce came down upon a knee.

  “It"s not far back here, either,” Daria said.

  “And Dubhlain is not much farther,” Bryce said.

  “Thank you,” Melisande murmured. “Thank you all. I hope that you do come. This is beautiful, and Dubhlain is incredible! But the fortress is fascinating, too. I hope desperately that you will come.” Bryan assured her, “There are occasions that draw us one and all, Melisande.

  Never fear. We are away, but never apart.”

  They talked a while longer, and as they did, Melisande realized that Mergwin had left them. She had not even seen him go. He had followed Conar, she thought, and she wondered if the old man had given her husband the same cryptic warning.

  Darkness fell and they were still at the stream. They started back to the house. Melisande paused when she reached her mare, for Mergwin"s old gelding was still tethered beside it. She noticed that there was another horse there, as well.

  Mergwin was still in the forest somewhere.

  With someone else.

  Daria seemed to sense her concern. She mounted her own horse and said softly, “Brenna will sail with you. He is giving her his last good-byes.” Melisande arched a brow, confused. Surely the elegant blond woman so at her husband"s beck and call could not be … intimately … linked with the old Druid?

  Daria waved a hand in the air, smiling. “They discuss the world and the stars and the heaven—and try to foresee all our futures!” she said. “Come, let"s hurry back. Rhiannon will have ordered everything edible in the vicinity for a feast tonight, her way of saying good-bye.”

  It was true. When they returned, Rhiannon and Eric were waiting in the great hall.

  Eric"s arms were around his beautiful wife. The snapping blaze picked up the fiery red highlights in her hair as she leaned back against her husband"s broad chest.

  Melisande found herself looking away, but Rhiannon had seen her enter the hall, and she quickly disentangled herself from her husband to wrap her arms around her sister-in-law in an affectionate hug. “It"s been so good to have you.

  You are always welcome here, Melisande.”

  “Thank you. I know I"ll be back. And I pray that you"ll come to me—to us—

  too.”

  “Of course! We will. We have a way of getting together, so it seems,” she said, smiling. “The children are upstairs, but they have come to love you dearly, if you wouldn"t mind taking a few minutes now to say good-bye.”

  “Of course, I will see them immediately!”

  She turned and ran up the stairs. Garth, like a little man, was waiting for her at the door.

  “Mother said that you would come. She said you would never leave without saying good-bye to me!”

  “And I never would.”

  Melisande plucked him up from the floor and sat at
the edge of the bed with him on her lap, rocking him, even though he was a very big boy.

  “I will begin to dine in the hall very soon,” he told her. “I"m nearly old enough. And soon I will ride out with my father and my uncles.”

  “You mustn"t be in such a hurry,” she warned him, glancing up at the pretty young servant who tended to the children.

  “You"re a woman. You don"t understand.”

  “I"m a woman, but I"ve ridden into battle. And you shouldn"t be in too busy a hurry to do so!” she insisted.

  “Do you have to go?” he asked her.

  “Aye, that I do. It"s my home we"re going to now, just as this is your home.

  You understand that, don"t you, Garth?”

  His gaze touched hers. So like his father"s. Like his uncle"s, too.

  She trembled suddenly, and Garth felt the movement. “Are you shivering, are you afraid?”

  She shook her head. “No, no I"m not. I"m anxious!” He shimmied from her lap to stand. “I suppose you want to hold my baby sister.”

  “I do want to hold her.” Melisande stood and hurried over to the baby"s finely carved cradle. She picked up the cooing infant and held her tenderly.

  “She"s very precious, Garth. You must look after her.”

  “I do,” he promised. His hand fit into the crook of her elbow. “If you have babies, I shall look after my little cousins, I promise!” Babies …

  She discovered herself shivering again, then looked up, past the young serving girl, to the doorway.

  Conar stood there. Blue eyes hard upon her, as always.

  Tremors streaked down her spine.

  Garth turned and saw Conar, too. With a little cry he ran to his uncle. He was swept up, thrown into the air. Then Conar hugged him hard and set him down upon his sturdy young feet. He gripped the boy"s hand. “We"ll see you soon enough on the coast, eh, my boy?”

  “Aye, Uncle!” Garth agreed. “Whenever I am needed!” Melisande set the baby back into her cradle and stroked her wonderfully soft cheek. She hurried across the room, suddenly wanting to escape. Conar was here with the boy. She had said her good-byes. She just needed to slip by them.