by Speer, Flora
“All right,” Lenora answered. “We’ll do as you want.”
Snorri led his men toward them. Erik stepped forward. “Well met, brother. Have you come all this way just to see me again?”
“You are not my brother,” Snorri growled. “I repudiate you.”
“Whatever you say. You are still my guest, however, since I was on this beach first. I regret I have no feast to set before you. What entertainment would you like? That I can provide, and with pleasure.” With a cheerful smile, Erik lifted his broadsword and held it poised.
“Oh, you’ll entertain me,” Snorri snarled at him, “but the pleasure will be mine. I’m going to kill you, cripple, and those two witches with you, after my men and I have used them a while. Then I’ll take the silver you stole from me and go home and rule Thorkellshavn.”
“Shall it be man-to-man combat?” Erik suggested politely. “Just the two of us? No point in spilling anyone else’s blood, is there?”
“Just what I had in mind,” Snorri responded. “It won’t take me long to finish you off.”
“Then ask your men to stand back and give us plenty of room. Tell them not to touch the women until we have fought.”
“Do you imagine you are going to win? Even if you should, my men will hack you to pieces and then take the women.”
“Make them move away. I need space.”
“Move back,” Snorri ordered his men. “You don’t want this weakling’s blood to spurt all over you. It would soil your pretty clothes and bring you bad luck.”
With much laughter the men stepped aside, leaving a wide area between themselves and the river’s edge, where the two women stood by the boat. In the center of this space Erik and Snorri faced each other with drawn swords. Snorri also carried a battle-ax instead of a shield.
Lenora glanced around, appreciating how clever Erik was. He had arranged the field of combat so she and Maura could easily get the boat into the water before Snorri’s men could reach them. Before the men got to their own boats up the beach and began to pursue them, the women would be well into the rapids that began a short distance on the other side of a rock promontory that jutted out into the river. She and Erik had climbed up onto the promontory the evening before, and Lenora had seen the white water downstream. What would happen to them once they reached those rapids, Lenora did not know. During their trip downriver she had learned a good deal from Erik about handling the boat, although she was still only a novice. But she had come to trust him completely, so she would do whatever he told her to do.
Snorri slashed at Erik with his sword. Erik ducked, raising his shield to ward off the blow, and struck at Snorri’s legs. Snorri jumped aside. His heavy battle-ax thudded into Erik’s shield and stuck there. Erik threw away the now-unbalanced shield. Their swords clashed together, flat blade against flat blade. They strained against each other, hand to hand, eye to eye, wavering back and forth until Snorri broke away. When he fell back Erik pursued him.
Lenora knew what Erik was doing. The eyes of all Snorri’s followers were fixed upon the two men fighting before them. They had temporarily forgotten the women by the boat. Erik was maneuvering Snorri so his back was turned to the river and he could not see what the women did. This left Erik’s back open to Snorri’s men. Lenora bit her lip hard to keep from crying out, but not one of Snorri’s men made a move toward Erik. They were all engrossed by the intense fury of the battle between the two brothers.
Erik beat at Snorri with relentless determination, forcing him toward the high, rocky promontory. Step by step they moved closer, as Snorri’s men turned to watch the action.
“Now,” Erik called out, “now.”
Lenora turned to the boat, throwing into it the sword she had been holding in both hands.
“Come on,” she said quietly to Maura, glancing around to be sure no one noticed them.
“What for?”
“Do you want to wait for Snorri? We are doing what Erik told us to do. We’re getting away from this beach. Push, Maura.”
With all her strength Lenora leaned against the boat. Maura added her weight, and then it was in the water. They scrambled aboard and Lenora picked up the oars and put one into Maura’s hands. They began to row toward the middle of the river.
Lenora spared one quick look at the battle on shore. Erik and Snorri had progressed farther along the slant of the promontory. Snorri’s left arm hung uselessly at his side.
Erik must have opened Snorri’s old wound, Lenora thought. Then all of her attention was given to the boat as the current caught it and spun it around, pushing it farther out into the river.
“You take both oars,” she told Maura.
She caught at the tiller and struggled to make the boat turn its bow downriver. As she did, she heard a shout from the beach and knew Snorri’s men had noticed them at last.
“Are they following us?” she asked anxiously, still trying to make the boat obey her, too busy to look back at the beach.
“Not yet. I think they are waiting for Snorri. These oars are useless. The current is too strong.” Maura drew the dripping oars into the boat.
It made no difference how Lenora steered or how hard she tried to direct the boat; the river seemed to have a mind of its own. The boat spun around twice more and then drifted toward the end of the promontory.
“Look!” Maura pointed to the topmost rock, where Erik and Snorri were fighting at the very edge. As they watched, Erik took a wild swing at Snorri, wounding his right arm. Snorri stumbled back. Erik flung down his sword, turned, and dove into the river on the far side of the rocks.
The current carried the boat around the end of the promontory and into a pool of calm water. Lenora could hear shouts, but she could no longer see what Snorri and his men were doing.
A dark, laughing face appeared at the side of the boat.
“Move to the other side, Maura, and balance my weight while I get in,” Erik said.
He swung a leg over and then lay dripping in the bottom of the boat, convulsed with laughter. Blood streamed from a cut on his leg. Lenora dabbed at it with the hem of her skirt.
“I lost a good sword blade, but it was worth it. You should have seen Snorri’s face. He had no idea what was happening.”
“They’ll be after us, Erik,” Lenora said.
He sobered at once, moving to her side. “Give me the tiller, Lenora. Row until we’re in midstream.”
It took only a few strokes before the current caught them once more, moving them ever more quickly toward the foaming white water Lenora could see ahead.
“Erik, you said we had to make a portage around this stretch of river.”
“Not with Snorri so close. Tie down everything you can and sit in the middle of the boat. Hold on tightly.”
Lenora hurried to do his bidding. Maura’s face was so white with fear, it was almost green. She tried to help Lenora, but her hands were shaking too much.
“We can’t do this,” she cried.
“If you want to go back to Snorri, I’ll put you ashore,” Erik offered.
Pressing her lips firmly together, Maura shook her head and set to work. Once their gear was arranged as safely as possible, she sat down in front of Lenora and clutched the side of the boat.
There was no time to do or say anything more. They had reached the rapids and the noise of the river filled their ears. They were hurtled through a granite gorge, water roaring around them as it foamed and dashed against the rocks scattered about the river.
Erik navigated with great skill, but he could do little more than aim the boat. They brushed against a rock, tilted, swung away, and continued their wild ride downriver. Lenora was certain the boat would be broken into pieces against the rocks; the only question was when.
The noise grew louder. It echoed and re-echoed against the granite walls around them. Surely the water was moving even faster now. Lenora felt as if she was sliding downhill, unable to stop herself. She heard Erik shout something, but she could not understand the wo
rds.
Suddenly, there was an abrupt downward drop, a rush of sound and white water, and the boat seemed to sail through the air.
She was falling and she heard someone scream. She hit the water so hard it knocked the breath out of her. As she sank through endless fathoms of cold, black water, Lenora knew she would sink forever.
Chapter 23
Something touched Lenora, wrapped around her ankle, and pulled her. She fought, but it would not let her go. She emerged into sunlight, spluttering and coughing, beating with her fists against the thing that pulled her back.
Erik let go of her ankle. He caught her hair and swam to shore, dragging her after him. Then he heaved her onto rocky land and left her.
As she struggled to rise, coughing up the water she had swallowed, Lenora saw Erik swimming toward her with Maura’s motionless form. Their boat bobbed, hull up, a short distance away.
Erik thrust Maura at her and set out again for the boat. Lenora dragged Maura out of the water, laying her on the rough beach.
Maura opened her eyes, then closed them again. There was a large blue bruise on one side of her forehead.
“You have to sit up,” Lenora urged. She tried to pull Maura upright, but found she was suddenly too weak. She slumped beside the unconscious woman.
Erik had the boat nearly beached and was standing in the water, trying to turn it right-side up. Lenora gathered all of her strength and went to help him. They were both shivering from the cold water and the shock. Somehow, after many attempts, they righted the craft. Miraculously, two of their bundles of belongings, the one remaining sword, and the oars and sail remained, securely lashed into the hold.
“Everything is soaked,” Lenora said.
“We’ll attend to that later. We can’t stay here. Snorri’s men will come around the rapids by land. I’m too tired to fight again today.”
Lenora looked up at the cataract pouring foamy white water into the pool where they had fallen. Viewed from this angle, its height made her dizzy.
“It’s hard to believe we went over that and lived,” she said.
“Luck,” Erik replied, managing a smile for her. “So far ours has held. Let’s bail out the boat and be on our way before Snorri arrives.”
By the time they had finished and Lenora had at last bandaged Erik’s wounded leg, satisfying herself it was nothing serious, Maura was sitting up on the beach, looking bewildered. When Erik picked her up she clung to him, weeping.
“No more rapids,” she cried. “I can’t bear any more.”
“Only a little farther,” Erik assured her. “Just a short distance from here the river is calm again.” He lowered her gently into the boat and helped Lenora to get in.
As Erik had promised, it was not very long before the river became calmer, widening into a lake-like body of sparkling blue. They stopped briefly to restep the mast and unfurl the wet and heavy sail. It soon dried in the hot wind. They sailed until evening.
When they finally stopped, Erik had to lift Maura out of the boat. She was weak and unable to stand. The bruise on her forehead showed dark blue against her pale skin.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You are both so brave, and I’m no use to you. You should leave me behind.”
“You are just tired,” Erik told her. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
They did not make a fire, not wanting to attract attention. Maura ate a bit of soggy bread and drank some ale, then drifted into a feverish sleep. Lenora had coaxed her into removing her wet clothes and wrapping herself in a large piece of wool. Lenora took off her own soaked clothing and spread the garments on the ground, hoping they would dry overnight.
She lay wrapped in a damp woolen cloak, staring up at the brilliant stars. Erik sat down beside her. She could just see his shape outlined against the sky.
“What do you think Snorri will do now?” she asked.
“He probably sent men overland right away to see if we survived the cataract. When they don’t find our bodies he will surely search farther. It will take his men at least two days to move their boats and supplies around the rapids. Snorri’s wound may be severe enough to stop them for a day, not more. So we have gained a little time.”
“He will follow us all the way to Miklagard.” It was not a question, for Lenora already knew the answer.
“For that silver, which he thinks is rightly his, Snorri would follow us to the ends of the earth.”
“We will never be safe so long as he lives.”
“I know.” Erik sighed. “Were he anyone else, I would kill him with pleasure. And yet, he is still my brother, my father’s son. I wish there were some other way.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder.
“Come with me,” he urged softly. “Just a little distance away. It is safe here, and Maura is asleep.”
She rose and followed his shadowy form. When he stopped he took the cloak from her shoulders and spread it on the ground. The rug he had wrapped about himself followed, making a bed on the grass.
They stood naked and silver-pale in the dim starshine. The dry steppe breeze blew softly upon them, brushing their skins with its tender summer-night warmth.
Erik’s hands slipped lightly along her shoulders and down her arms, barely touching her. He caught her hands and raised them to his lips. As he kissed each finger and then the palm of each hand, she felt a warmth radiating from his mouth, spreading up her arms and suffusing her body with tingling delight. He pulled her hands around his waist, drawing her against him. Slowly his arms encircled her. His embrace tightened as his mouth met hers.
Nothing had changed. They had been separate from each other for more than four cycles of the moon, but it was as though that time and all that had happened during it was nonexistent. She remembered every detail of his body, as he remembered hers. She touched the scar on his left shoulder and the shorter scar over his eyebrow, then ran her fingers through his thick dark hair. She knew just where to touch him, what to do to please him.
His mouth was hard, as it had always been, and sweet, and when his tongue slid into her she moaned with joy.
They sank down upon her cloak, still locked in that endless kiss. His hands caressed her breasts, teasing and enticing. Pulling his mouth away from hers at last, he scattered kisses of sweet fire over her face and eyes and throat. He encouraged her eager response until she cried out, then stopped her cries with his lips.
“Don’t wake Maura,” he teased between hungry kisses. “We’d have to stop.”
“I couldn’t stop and neither could you,” she whispered. The glorious, demanding need was rising in her. It could not be denied; it would be assuaged or she would die of it.
His eyes glinted with starlight when he raised his head to take her mouth again. Then his hands and lips began to move ever lower, while he caressed her breasts until they ached, then inscribed wide circles across her abdomen, stroking her smooth, eagerly responsive skin with such inflammatory effect she had to choke back a scream. At last he found the sensitive, secret spot for which he had been so lovingly searching. There he lingered, knowing well what to do, until she was nearly mad with longing, writhing and twisting and gasping in unrestrained ecstasy, not caring now who might hear her cries.
“I want you,” she moaned. “No one but you. Tell me you feel the same.”
His shadow rose above her, blotting out the stars. A moment later they were no longer separate. He was hers, all, entirely hers, and she was his. She would never belong to anyone else. Only Erik; only Erik. Her heart was his, and it nearly burst with joy as he cried out his need for her and his unending desire.
“I’ll never stop wanting you, Lenora. Never.”
The stars spun through the night sky, then blurred and faded. The bearded shadow above her was all that existed in the world, their blended bodies the source of all delight.
The painful past disappeared, vanished like gossamer smoke. Let Snorri pursue them; he did not matter. The dangers of the voyage yet to come did not matter,
nothing else, no one else mattered. Only Erik.
As their lips met in a climactic kiss, and earth and sky paused for a brief, tense moment before the joyous explosion of their mutual rapture, Lenora knew Erik was all she had ever wanted or ever would want until the very end of her life.
* * *
Lenora opened her eyes. Over her head, against the background of a clear blue sky, a tiny yellow butterfly fluttered and danced. She smiled at it, stretching in delicious satisfaction. After a moment she sat up, looking around her. The calm river glittered in the early morning sunlight, like a child who has worn itself out with tantrums and will now be good for a while. Maura was washing her face by the water’s edge. Lenora’s glance skimmed past the woman to settle on the man a little distance away. Erik was examining the hull of their boat, checking for damage inflicted by rocks and cataracts. Seeing his intense concentration on his task, Lenora smiled again.
She stood, not caring that she was naked, enjoying the sensation of the warm breeze against her skin. With the proud carriage of a woman who knows she is desired, she walked toward Erik. She had nearly reached him when he looked up and saw her. His eyes wandered over her, appreciating every curve and line of her body, his expression acknowledging that this display was for him alone.
“One day,” he said, “I will see you gowned in silks and wearing jewels, but you will never be more beautiful than you are now.”
“If I am beautiful, it is your doing.”
It did not matter that her clothes were still damp and uncomfortable from their dowsing in the river. It made no difference that their morning meal was stale bread and flat, sour ale, that searing heat quickly followed the early morning coolness, that swarms of insects rose, stinging them or flying into ears and eyes and mouths, that the ceaseless steppe wind began to blow, bringing sand and dust to add to their physical discomfort. To Lenora the world was beautiful; the day was perfect.
