Viking Passion

by Speer, Flora

“Release me, Eirena.” Erik’s voice was quiet but commanding.

  “Not yet.”

  Eirena approached Erik, smiling. Suddenly she sat on his lap, wound her arms around his neck, and kissed him. It was a long kiss, and, on Eirena‘s part, a passionate one. At last she drew away and smoothed down his hair. Her fingers traced the outline of his mouth.

  “That will take away part of the stain Snorri put on me,” she said, “even though I finally know you don’t want me. You never did.”

  “Let me go.”

  “Now I will.”

  Eirena worked at the knots in the heavy cord until Erik’s hands were free. Then, while he rubbed at his wrists, she went to Lenora and loosened her ropes.

  “Thank you,” Lenora said.

  “Don’t thank me. Just go. I have had enough of you Rus barbarians.”

  Erik’s steel-strong hands caught Eirena by the wrists.

  “You betrayed me twice, Eirena. First to your brother and then to Snorri. Now it’s time for you to pay.”

  “What do you want of me?”

  “Gold.”

  Eirena bared her teeth in an angry grimace.

  “You Norse are all alike. All you think about is gold.”

  “Are you Greeks any different? We will go away and you will never be bothered by us again, but we need money for the trip.”

  “I don’t have any gold.”

  “Basil keeps money here. I want it.”

  “No.”

  Erik twisted her arm behind her back. Eirena cried out in pain, and then screamed in real fear as she saw Lenora.

  Lenora had pounced on Snorri’s sword. Holding it before her with both hands, she advanced toward Erik and Eirena.

  “You witch,” Lenora said slowly. “You terrified Maura, and you were going to give me to that monster. I should slice you into little pieces.”

  “I did you a favor,” Eirena snarled back at her. “I killed him for you.”

  Lenora lowered the sword a bit.

  “Yes, you did.” She looked at Erik. “Now only you are left. You are the last unpunished member of the family on whom I once swore vengeance.”

  Erik thrust Eirena aside and stood still before Lenora, his arms down at his sides.

  “Kill me if you want,” he said. “It is your right. Exact your revenge.”

  “I – I – Erik?” The sword in Lenora’s hand wavered. Did he truly believe she could want to harm him after all they had endured together?

  “I love you, Lenora. I did not want to, and I have never said it before, but I do. I love you with all my heart and soul. Now do what you will. I’ll not fight you.”

  Lenora swayed, the weight of Snorri’s great sword pulling at her. Her lips parted, but no words passed them. Love. He had said love. She cast the sword away, and with it the last traces of old hatreds and the desire for vengeance.

  “Oh, Erik.” She fell into his arms. She rested there only a moment before he pushed her away and sprang after Eirena, who had pulled open the door into the hall.

  “Not so fast.” He slammed the door shut again, holding it with one shoulder. He caught Eirena by the elbow, spun her around, and shoved her into the middle of the room.

  “The gold,” he said. “Where is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying, as usual. Give me the sword, Lenora.”

  He took the heavy blade and tucked it neatly under Eirena’s chin.

  “The gold, please.” There could be no doubt that Erik meant business.

  “It’s in Basil’s room.”

  “Good. Lenora?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Go to your room and pack a few warm clothes, then go to my room and do the same. We are going to Kiev, and it is cold there in the winter.

  “To Kiev again? Is that safe? Won’t Snorri’s people follow us?” Lenora sounded as doubtful as she felt.

  “Kiev will be safer than here. Meet us back in this room. Eirena and I are going to get our passage money.”

  Eirena laughed at them.

  “Don’t think you are going to St. Mamas to find your barbarian friends,” she told them. “Ten of Snorri’s men are waiting by the front gate. If you step outside they will kill you.”

  Erik smiled at her. “Thank you for the warning, Eirena. You really are very helpful.”

  When Lenora returned to the room where Snorri’s body lay, she found Erik and Eirena already awaiting her.

  “Here.” Erik tossed her a pouch of gold bezants, the coins of the Eastern Roman Empire. “In case we are separated. These are good anywhere in the world.”

  Lenora tucked them into the bundle of clothes she had prepared.

  “Sit down, Eirena,” Erik said. “We are going to tie you up and gag you so you can’t betray us again before we escape. You won’t be uncomfortable for too long. One of your guards or servants will come looking for you soon.”

  “You can’t leave me in the same room with him.” Eirena looked with loathing at Snorri’s body.

  “Why not? You can spend your time thinking of a good explanation for having a dead Norseman in your sitting room. You might also decide on an acceptable apology for the men who are waiting at your front gate.”

  He bound her securely and turned the chair away from the windows.

  “I hope you don’t mind the lack of a view,” he said. “I don’t want you to watch us sail away.”

  “I already know you are going to Kiev.” Eirena glared at him. “You aren’t as clever as you think, Erik. You let that information slip a little while ago.”

  “Did I? Foolish of me, but by the time you’re found, it won’t matter. Anything you’d like to say before I put this in?” Erik held up a wad of cloth.

  “I hate you.”

  “From my point of view, that is a great improvement.” He gagged her with apparent pleasure.

  “There is just one more thing to do. Since you have suggested it several times, Eirena, I think you should be the witness.”

  Erik took Lenora’s hand.

  “Before this witness,” he said, reciting the formula slowly and clearly, “I declare this woman has been my slave. Lenora, I hereby set you free.”

  “Thank you.” Lenora could barely whisper the words around the sudden lump in her throat.

  “If you want to rejoin Maura in the city,” Erik told her, “I can arrange for that, or you may go with me. You are free now, and the choice is yours.”

  “There is no choice. I am going with you. I love you.”

  She had a glimpse of his moist eyes before he turned and picked up their bundles. When he spoke again his voice was a bit rough. “Are you ready, Lenora?”

  “I’m ready.”

  They slipped out of the room, crept down the back stairs, and, after a careful reconnaissance, went out a garden door. The wind tugged at Lenora’s cloak. Erik caught her hand and pulled her along the terrace toward the path leading to the beach.

  “We are going this way,” he said, “to avoid Snorri’s men.”

  They hurried down the path, twisting and turning among bushes and trees, until at last they came out on the narrow, sandy beach.

  “What shall we do now?” Lenora asked.

  “Give me your scarf.”

  She unwrapped the long piece of white silk from her head. Erik took it, and holding it high in one hand, waved it back and forth. A few moments later Lenora saw a movement on the water as a tiny boat drew steadily closer. At last she could see the blond, bearded figure at the oars.

  “Harald,” she breathed. “So, we are going with Harald.”

  When the boat approached the beach, Erik swept Lenora into his arms and deposited her on the nearest seat. Then he dumped in their scanty baggage and jumped in beside her.

  “Your sword is there, wrapped in silk,” Harald said. “I thought you might need it.”

  “My brother came to see me.” Erik buckled the belt around his waist and adjusted the sword as he spoke.

  “I had hear
d there was someone looking for you. Did he get what he came for?”

  “I think so. Let me help you.”

  Erik took an oar, and together the men rowed, heading straight out into the Bosporus. They had nearly reached the opposite shore before Lenora noticed Harald’s knarr. It had been painted black and was almost invisible in the rapidly deepening dusk. As they pulled alongside, friendly hands reached down to help them aboard. The rowboat was quickly hauled onto the deck and secured, the anchor raised, and then the sail was let out.

  Lenora stared open-mouthed. The sail was black. They began to move toward the setting sun.

  “Erik,” she protested, “We’re going west. Kiev lies east of Constantinople.”

  His strong arm was around her shoulders. “We aren’t going to Kiev, my love.”

  “But you told Eirena -” She stopped and began to laugh.

  “When Eirena gives the alarm,” Erik told her, “if Snorri’s men go after us, they will start looking in the wrong direction. Meanwhile, hidden in the dark, with black hull and sail and no lamps lit, we will smuggle Harald’s ship and its cargo past Miklagard, past the Greek guards and watch towers, through the little ocean they call the Marmora, past the Byzantine outposts guarding the straits at the far end of the Marmora, and into the great Middle Sea that lies beyond Grikkland.”

  “Maura was right. She said you always have a plan.” She glanced up at his handsome face, just discernable in the fading light. “Where are we really going?”

  “Where would you like to go?”

  She considered that a while.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said at last, “so long as we are together.”

  He pulled her into his arms, ignoring the humorous comments of nearby crew members.

  “We will sail as far as Harald is going. We have a full cargo of silk and ivory, on which we have paid no taxes, since we neglected to inform the customs authorities just when we were planning to leave Constantinople. Harald and I will make a handsome profit from this voyage.” His lips brushed her forehead, and they stood quietly for a while.

  “I knew you would never kill me,” he told her later. “You are too tender-hearted to take the revenge you said you wanted.”

  “I killed Hrolf and Bjarni,” she reminded him.

  “Hrolf to save me, and Bjarni for Halfdan’s sake. You have never hurt anyone for your own sake.” He sighed happily. “I am glad you are finally finished with hating, and with your foolish idea of revenge.”

  “I am not finished. I have only begun.” Her eyes were dancing with mischief, but he could not see them in the dark. He only heard her serious voice, and she felt his body tense. She smothered laughter, but only for a moment. It wasn’t fair to tease him into doubting her. “I have chosen to go with you. You will have to live with me for the rest of your life. That is my final revenge, Erik the Far-traveler.”

  He let out a great shout of laughter. ”I think I can bear it,” he said. And then he kissed her.

  Epilogue

  In mid-December of the Year of Our Lord 868, a black-hulled, black-sailed vessel dropped anchor at the ancient port of Marseilles in southern Frankland. The cargo of rich silks and fine ivory from the Eastern Empire was immediately sold to eager merchants. The ship’s captain then found a priest to marry his two passengers.

  It was said by the local gossips, who always know about such things, that the wedding ring was a gold circle that the bridegroom took from his own finger and slipped onto his new wife’s hand, while the lady openly wept for joy.

  The next day passengers and crew reassembled, and the ship sailed toward the Western Sea. No one in Marseilles had been told where they were going.