Viking Passion

by Speer, Flora

  “I bought Lenora from you in an honest sale,” Erik replied. “She is mine.”

  “I followed you and found Torgard dead. Is this the second woman he was to bring me? Did you steal her from him? She’s not very pretty, and much too scrawny for my taste. You may keep her. I’d rather have Lenora back. There are a few things I would like to do with her. You understand.”

  “Only too well. You have my silver. Lenora stays with me.”

  “Shall we fight for her?”

  Attair’s horse picked its way daintily to the water’s edge. Erik slowly backed away until he was knee-deep in water.

  “Come out and fight on land,” Attair coaxed, urging his unwilling horse into the river.

  He raised a huge battle-ax and brought it down with a slashing motion, bending far out of the saddle to do so. Erik leapt toward the horse, moving inside the deadly circle of the ax’s swing. Catching Attair off-balance, Erik pulled him from the saddle. Water splashed around them, obscuring Lenora’s view of the fight. The horse reared, neighing loudly. Attair lay stunned, half under water, his ax lost as he fell. Erik’s sword flashed once.

  Attair’s men had begun moving forward with menacing expressions.

  “Raise the sail,” Erik shouted, splashing through the water toward the boat.

  A volley of arrows flew through the air, several thwacking into the side of the boat. Maura gave a loud shriek. Lenora was too busy with the sail to pay attention to her. Erik caught the stern of the boat and pulled himself over, his sword still in his hand.

  Lenora pulled wildly at the ropes, her nervous hands slipping and burning. She felt Erik next to her, helping. More arrows whizzed through the air. One tore right through the unfurling sail. Then the sail was completely open and they were moving out of range of the arrows. Attair’s men rode restlessly back and forth at the river’s edge, shouting after them.

  “Is he dead?” Lenora asked.

  “He is. I’m sorry it was so quick and easy. He deserved something much more painful. I doubt his men will follow us to take vengeance for his death. I think they are more likely to ride back to Kiev to divide Attair’s belongings among themselves.”

  “Are you hurt, Erik?”

  “No, but Maura is. Tend to her, will you? We’ll run aground if we’re not more careful.”

  Erik scrambled to the stern to grasp the tiller. Lenora turned to Maura. She lay on a pile of supplies, her face ashen, her eyes closed, an arrow protruding from her left shoulder.

  “Pull it out,” Erik advised. “Wash it with river water and bind it up.”

  Biting her lower lip, Lenora did as he said. She was afraid Maura would die as Halfdan had done, but she only moaned. Lenora moved her to a more comfortable position and covered her with a rug she found in one of Torgard’s bundles. She found a cask of ale, unplugged it, and filled a wooden cup. This she held to Maura’s lips.

  “Thank you.” A bit of color had come back into Maura’s pale face. “Where is Erik?”

  “He’s safe. We are far away from those men now.”

  “At first I thought it was Snorri coming after me.” Maura began to weep. “Don’t let him capture me, Lenora. Promise me you’ll help me.”

  Lenora felt sympathy flood through her, washing away all her previous resentment against this once-beautiful Irish slave.

  “I can imagine what Snorri did to you,” she said. “We won’t let that happen again. We’ll get away from him, you’ll see.”

  Lenora was not at all sure she and Erik could keep that promise, but she knew Maura needed the reassurance. After Maura had drifted into sleep, Lenora crept to the rear of the boat to kneel near Erik. He put one arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. She rested there, watching the riverbank slip by.

  The landscape had changed. The dark green northern forests had disappeared. Now in all directions stretched the flat, golden steppes, endless and monotonous.

  The weather had changed too. Gone was the heavy, humid air of northern swamp and forest, exchanged for a dry, frequently windy heat that steadily increased as they traveled southeastward.

  No one bothered them. They moved through the wide, empty land in isolation. There was no sign of pursuit, no hint that Snorri was following, but still Erik insisted they take turns keeping watch each night. As day followed identical day, Lenora longed for a night of uninterrupted sleep.

  The sun was relentless. Erik and Lenora were soon tanned to a deep brown, but Maura burned. They pulled cloths from the bundles Torgard had packed into the boat and covered her head and arms and shoulders.

  “I will always be grateful to you,” Maura said one day as Lenora put a clean cloth on her now-healing wound. “You saved my life twice, once by making Erik bring me with you and a second time when I was wounded. I won’t forget it.”

  “No one makes Erik do anything,” Lenora said. She added a question about Maura’s home in Ireland.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too painful. Snorri killed my husband and my child and did terrible things to me. He is an evil, heathen man. Sven was no better. Erik seems to be different, and I must admit his father was kind to me, but I have finished with men. Erik says this Miklagard to which we are traveling is a Christian city. Perhaps I will enter a convent there.”

  If you live until we reach Miklagard, Lenora thought, considering Maura’s too-thin body. Then she asked about a matter that had been preying on her mind ever since they had left Kiev.

  “Maura, while you were in Aldeigjuborg, did you ever see a man called Rodfos? Or hear Snorri or Sven talking about him?”

  “A big, heavy man with a red beard? Was he a sailor?”

  “That’s the one. Do you know what became of him?” Lenora had to know what Rodfos had suffered for her sake. She felt she owed that much to him, to know his final fate.

  “Was he a friend of yours?” Maura’s haunted silver eyes were huge in her thin face. “That poor man. I tried to help him, but Snorri wouldn’t even let me give him a little water. And then Sven beat me again for thinking of helping a prisoner.”

  “What did they do to Rodfos?”

  “You don’t want to know, Lenora, and I don’t want to tell you. Please don’t make me say the words.”

  “They really did kill him then. I thought Sven might have been lying.”

  “Sven didn’t know what really happened.”

  “What do you mean, Maura?”

  “After Sven beat me I lost my senses for a while. When I woke again it was night, and I was still lying on the ground, not far from Rodfos. I could just see him in the firelight, and I saw he was breathing, but it must have been painful for him. I’m sure Snorri had broken his ribs. Then two men came out of the dark and carried Rodfos away.”

  “Snorri’s men, carrying him off for more torture.” Lenora could hardly speak. Pity for Rodfos and rage at Snorri and Sven constricted her throat.

  “Oh, no.” Maura’s bony hand reached out to take Lenora’s, offering what comfort she could. “I think they were Rodfos’ own men. I knew those who were traveling with us, and I had never seen those men before. I wanted to ask them to take me, too, but I was in such pain I knew if I tried to move or speak I would have to cry out. I wouldn’t be able to help myself, and then Snorri’s guards would hear and come to investigate, and see what was happening. So I just lay there watching them until they vanished into the darkness. When Snorri discovered what had happened, he was furious. I pretended I was still unconscious so I wouldn’t have to answer any questions. He beat me again, anyway, but I never told what I had seen, until now.”

  “Thank you for telling me, Maura.” Lenora pressed the hand holding hers. “At least now I know Rodfos had a chance of living. He tried to help us. I wouldn’t want him to come to harm because of me. Curse Snorri! How can one man be so wicked?”

  “He thinks Erik has done him an injustice. He wants vengeance, but he was a bad man even before that.”

  “When will it end?”

  “No
t until Snorri is dead, Lenora.” Maura’s face was sad. “Snorri will never stop so long as there is life in him.” Lenora knew she was right.

  Maura recovered her health slowly. Lenora thought this was because she was so exhausted and hungry when she was wounded. She slept deeply each night, and Erik and Lenora often extended their time on guard to allow Maura to sleep longer.

  One evening, when Maura had settled herself to sleep beside the fire and Lenora was about to lie down herself, she brought up the matter of her status as Erik’s slave.

  “You freed me in Hedeby,” she reminded him. “Why must I be your slave again?”

  “Don’t you understand? Attair had so many armed men that Halfdan and I could not rescue you by fighting our way in and out of his compound. The only way to get you out of there was by tricking Attair. I had learned enough about him to know he would agree to sell you if he thought he had the better of the bargain, and if it would make him look clever. That is why I offered to buy you.”

  “Did you really use all of your silver?”

  “Every last dirham, and all Halfdan had too.”

  Lenora digested this for a moment, blinking back the tears that still rose to her eyes every time she thought of Halfdan.

  “I’m grateful to you,” she said at last, “but I don’t want to be a slave any more.”

  “No one does, Lenora. In your case, it is the safest thing for you to be. Let everyone we meet know that you belong to me and that my sword will defend my property.”

  “And after we reach Miklagard? Will you free me then?”

  “We’ll see. I make no promises. Perhaps I’ll decide to keep you permanently.”

  She turned from him in anger at his words. He stepped in front of her, his eyes glowing like emeralds in the firelight.

  “Lenora, I ask you to trust me. I don’t want you to come to any harm.”

  “I want to be free.”

  “What of me? I’m as much a slave as you are.” His hands rested lightly on her shoulders. “Sometimes I think I’ll never be free.”

  “Erik?” She stared at him, puzzled by the tone of his voice.

  He drew her closer.

  “Trust me,” he repeated, his voice tender.

  “I am beginning to.” She raised one hand to touch his heavily bearded face.

  Beside the fire, Maura stirred sleepily. “Is it time for my watch?” she asked.

  Erik walked away from Lenora into the darkness.

  “Not yet, Maura,” he said over his shoulder. “Go back to sleep. You, too, Lenora.”

  They did not discuss Lenora’s situation again.

  * * *

  At last they came to the place where the river turned due south and, rushing downward between walls of granite rock, dissolved into the rapids and cataracts that had taken the lives of countless voyagers.

  “This is the most dangerous part of the journey,” Erik told them. “Even more so now because the water is low. We will rest for a day and eat well. This passage will require all the strength we have.”

  They took advantage of the pause to bathe. Maura washed modestly at the river’s edge, keeping her back turned and dressing again quickly when she was finished. Lenora pulled off her soiled garments and plunged into the water. After the endless heat and the windblown dust of the steppe winds, the coolness was wonderfully refreshing.

  She moved farther out from shore, sinking down into the water until she was covered to her chin. She tilted her head back to wet her hair. She did not notice Erik telling Maura to keep watch, or see him strip off his clothes and follow her into the water.

  As Lenora floated toward the middle of the river, she felt the power of the current and realized how strong was the force against which they would be contending the next day. It nearly pulled her off her feet when she tried to get back to shore. She floundered about in the water until a pair of muscular arms caught her and she was pressed against Erik’s warm, naked chest.

  “Be careful,” he teased, his mouth near hers. “I don’t want to lose you to the river.”

  “Oh, Erik,” she cried in surprise. She put her arms around his waist to steady herself. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “But here I am.”

  He held her body so firmly to his that they were almost one. She closed her eyes, half-fainting with sudden desire that came unbidden, flooding over her. He knew it. He knew everything about her.

  With a strong kick he lifted himself off the riverbed, floating backward toward the shore, pulling Lenora on top of him.

  “We’re going to drown,” he whispered, and kissed her.

  Both their heads went under water. They came up spluttering and laughing. Lenora clung to him, her whole being suffused with joy at his nearness, radiant with happiness as their laughter and their entangled bodies in the swift-flowing river combined to dissipate whatever residual anger and bitterness had lain between them. She knew at last that she had been wrong about Erik. He did want her. She could feel how much.

  She wound her arms about his neck and kissed him, feeling his happy response in his hard mouth as he left her breathless. He let her go reluctantly.

  “We’re shocking Maura.” Erik stood up in the shallower water where they had floated and hauled Lenora out with one hand. The late-afternoon sun shone on droplets of water running over his chest and arms and down his torso. “Go dress or I’ll forget Maura is here. I wouldn’t mind, but I don’t think you would want her watching us.”

  “Erik.” She caught at him, not willing to let him go. His green eyes met hers, reading the depth of passion he had stirred in her.

  “Soon,” he promised. “One day soon, my beautiful Lenora.”

  He dove into the water again, swimming into the cold depths with strong, sure strokes. It was a long time before he waded out and dressed.

  * * *

  The next day they traversed the first of the series of rapids. Erik fastened three twisted hide ropes to the boat. They unstepped the mast and lashed it and the sail into the hold, along with their other gear. They took off their outer clothes, piling them into the boat. Then, each grasping a rope, they stepped into the icy water. Carefully they felt their way around submerged stones and unexpected holes as they inched along, wading close to the looming cliffs, pulling the boat with them.

  The sound of water roaring and thundering among the rocks and boulders, some the size of small island, that littered the middle of the river had lulled Lenora to sleep for two nights. Now that she was in the midst of that sound it was terrifying. The swift-moving river crashed against the rocks, breaking into white foam and swirling in dangerous whirlpools and eddies. The current tugged at their feet.

  They could hear nothing but the water. Erik gave them directions by gestures or by nodding his head. Several times the current caught the boat, nearly pulling them with it into midstream, where they would be dashed against the rocks and killed. It took all of their combined strength to haul the boat back toward shore, where the current was less strong and they could manage the craft more easily.

  Lenora wanted to run, to get to the other side of this noisy torture as quickly as possible. She could see the white-faced Maura was as frightened as she was. But Erik was slow and patient, edging his way along, step by careful step, until they reached the other side of the rapids and the river began to run more calmly.

  They pulled the boat up onto a narrow, rocky beach. Lenora sat on the ground, her knees shaking with relief. Her ears still rang with the tumult of the water against the rocks.

  “That one wasn’t too difficult.” Erik dropped down beside her, laughing. “Wait until you see the next one.”

  “You have no fear at all,” she said in wonder.

  “A clear head is more useful than fear for a journey like this.”

  The rapids were protection as well as danger. That night, for the first time since leaving Kiev, they did not keep guard.

  They made their way downriver more slowly in the following days, occasio
nally pulling the boat through rough water, more often making a portage. They unloaded their cargo, carrying it overland past the rapids or waterfalls, sometimes needing an entire day for this. Then they trekked back to the boat and half-dragged, half-carried it overland. It was a small boat, scarcely big enough for the three of them and their bundles. Lenora had thought it was too small for such a long trip, but with each day that passed it seemed to her larger and heavier.

  They had to stop frequently to rest when moving it overland, for Maura, though willing, was still weak from her wound, and Lenora, try as she might to keep up with Erik, was not as strong as a man. As they progressed farther south on the river, a constant guard was necessary in case the Khazars attacked them.

  “It’s luck,” Erik said one evening. “They must have raided the merchant fleet that went before us and seized plenty of loot from it. Perhaps they think no one else is coming downriver so late in the season. We have been very fortunate so far.”

  “Or perhaps,” Lenora said, thinking of Attair’s ill-fated caravan, “they are raiding inland this season.”

  It was just before the last cataract that Snorri finally caught up with them. They had slept late, worn out from their labors of the day before.

  “We will rest for one day,” Erik had said, “and then make the portage.”

  The women were repacking their belongings to better distribute the weight they would each have to carry when they heard Erik unsheath his sword.

  “Put all the bundles into the boat and lash them down,” he ordered. “Take the extra sword, Lenora. Maura, you use that short-handled spear.”

  They watched as Snorri’s men beached their boats a short distance upriver from them. There were eight men and Snorri himself. He wore a scarlet cloth around his upper left arm, where Erik had wounded him at their last meeting. His expression was murderous.

  Seeing him, Maura began to cry. “There are too many of them. They will capture us. Erik, kill me now. I don’t want Snorri to touch me again.”

  “Be quiet, woman,” Erik replied impatiently. “I’ll do my best to keep Snorri away from both of you. Now, Lenora, when I call to you, I want you to push the boat into the water. Get in it and head for the rapids. Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch up with you.”