The Outlaw Viking

by Sandra Hill

  Her hair was beautifully dressed, and she wore a magnificent fur-lined cloak. She stared at him through wide golden eyes, expressionless pools filled with an emotion he could not understand. Her lips were rosy and swollen, as if they had been kissed endlessly.

  A sweet, recently awakened part of him died inside.

  “Argh!” he raged and lurched forward against his ropes. He would kill her, as well as Steven, if he could reach them.

  Rain’s eyes widened and pooled with tears. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes then. No doubt due to sleepless nights spent under Gravely’s panting body. Did she moan for her new lover the way she had for him?

  His heart felt as if it were splintering inside his body, and he feared there were tears in his eyes.

  How could she? How could she?

  Steven smiled at him then, a twisted sick curve of the lips, and pulled his cloak off Rain’s shoulder. With a flick of his fingers, he pulled the laces from her tunic. Standing behind Rain, Steven parted her tunic, baring her breasts with their aroused nipples for his view. Then he put his hands under her breasts and raised them high. Bruises marred the white flesh of her breasts from their love play. All the time, Steven was smiling at him.

  Rain dropped her head in shame. Even a woman in love, as she must be with the handsome Steven to allow such intimacies, would not want her body bared before another man, a former lover. But she said nothing, not a word, to stop Steven. Not even when he put one hand on her womanhood, rubbing sensuously, and another hand under her chin, forcing her to look up.

  “I hate you,” Selik said to Rain with all the venom that boiled in his blood. “I hate you more than Steven, and that is an ungodly amount. You took my love and spat on it, and for that I will never forgive you.”

  He turned away from her then and felt the wetness on his cheeks. He heard a low choking sound behind him, quickly stifled, but he did not turn again until they were long gone and the door closed behind them.

  After that, Rain didn’t care anymore. Her lack of resistance angered Steven, and his brutality increased. Rain wondered if she would be alive in another week—if, in one of his rages, Steven would go too far and kill her. Or if he might change his mind and assault her sexually. That she would not be able to accept.

  Through it all, she didn’t scream for help because she still needed to protect Selik.

  A week after her ill-fated meeting with Selik, Caedmon came running into Steven’s bedchamber, yelling, “That bitch Elgiva is looking for Rain. She went to the king, and he agreed to a search of the castle.”

  Rain barely raised her head from where she sat on the floor of her little room, able to hear everything they said through the open doorway.

  “Hurry, Caedmon, pack all our belongings,” Steven said anxiously. “Efric, get the horses. We will leave immediately.”

  Rain dozed off, or perhaps she passed out. She did that a lot lately. Steven had struck her on the head several days ago, and she feared she had suffered a concussion. She heard the door open some time later and Efric exclaim in a rush, “Bloody hell, Steven, the king and the bitch are headed this way. Someone told Athelstan they saw The Outlaw’s wench with you at the prison.”

  Suddenly, Rain realized that Steven was about to escape. Once again, he would elude punishment for his evil deeds. He would not pay for raping and killing Selik’s wife, for decapitating the baby Thorkel, for his mistreatment of her, for all his horrendous acts. Rain couldn’t allow that to happen.

  While the three men picked up their chests and leather bags, Rain stood, unnoticed, staggering painfully. She saw a knife on the table beside the bed, picked it up as if in a trance, then ran toward Steven’s back screaming, “You bastard! You bastard!”

  Steven turned at the last moment and flung out an arm. The knife was deflected and, in her weakness, she tripped. Instead of the knife going into Steven’s back as she’d intended, it grazed his forearm. Still, blood flowed freely down his sleeve.

  At first, his eyes just widened in amazement that she would dare to attack him. His angry eyes turned with horror to the blood soaking his tunic. Then she saw his booted foot swing out. She couldn’t move fast enough to escape the blow that hit her in the stomach.

  In a blurry haze of pain and nausea, Rain saw King Athelstan’s face bending over her. “Blood of Christ! Who did this to her?”

  Someone else answered, “Steven of Gravely.”

  “Where is he?” Athelstan’s voice, icy with rage, asked.

  “Gone.”

  Gonegonegonegonegonegone… The word kept echoing in Rain’s benumbed brain as she felt her body being lifted in someone’s arms.

  She heard a sobbing voice behind her then and recognized Elgiva’s voice saying, “Oh, Athelstan, look how that beast beat her!”

  “El…Elgiva,” Rain gasped, stretching an arm in her direction.

  “I am here,” Elgiva said, stepping into her line of vision, brushing matted hair off her face with a gentle hand.

  “Promise…” Rain choked out. “Promise me…”

  “What? What do you want me to promise, my dear friend?”

  “Do not…do not tell Selik. He must not know.”

  “But why?”

  Rain saw the tears running down Elgiva’s cheeks. And the pity. She must look really bad to arouse the horror she saw reflected on Elgiva’s face.

  “He would blame himself for not protecting me,” she said in a raw voice, licking her cracked lips. “He couldn’t live with that pain again. He just couldn’t.”

  “But—”

  “Promise,” Rain demanded, clutching at her arm with more strength than she realized she still had. “Promise.”

  Elgiva nodded.

  And Rain fainted into blessed oblivion.

  Several days later, Rain sat up in Elgiva’s bed. Other than the bruises that marred every inch of her body and the emotional scars that would never go away, Rain felt almost normal. Apparently she had not had a concussion after all.

  And, for the first time in days, Rain realized that she wanted to live.

  “Did he rape you?” Elgiva asked as she adjusted the bed linens around her. The Saxon lady had been nursing her the past few days. If anyone was an angel, it was she.

  Rain shook her head.

  “Well, that is a blessing. You have undergone a horrible experience, but the worst is over.”

  “I know. I should be thankful for that, but I can barely control the mind-boiling, blood-churning, violent anger that rages inside me against Steven of Gravely.”

  “The worst thing is that Gravely escapes with no punishment for his vile acts.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I believe he’ll get his just deserts sometime, either in this life or another. But I can’t let my hatred for him consume me now. I have to put my rage aside or it will eat away at me like a cancer. I need to heal now, Elgiva. And, oh God, I need Selik.”

  Elgiva shifted her eyes and sat next to Rain on the edge of the bed, “That is what I wanted to discuss.”

  “Selik?” Rain asked, her voice rising with alarm.

  Elgiva patted her hand reassuringly. “Do not fret. He is safe. In fact”—Elgiva inhaled as if for strength—“in fact, he was released yestereve.”

  “He…was?” Rain asked slowly, her brow furrowing with confusion.

  “Yea, after seeing what Steven had done to you, Athelstan finally believed that Selik had provocation for his vengeful acts. He levied a huge wergild on The Outlaw and exiled him for life from all of Britain. An armed guard will take him to Southampton on the morrow, where he will be put on a ship, never to return to this land again.”

  Rain smiled and started to get up from the bed. “I must go to him at once.

  “Nay, you are too weak yet.”

  “Then send him to me. At once. I’ve got to see that he’s all right. And we’ve got to pack my belongings so I can go with him tomorrow.” Excited at the wonderful news, Rain began to list in her mind all the things she needed to
do to prepare for a trip. Where would they go? she wondered. Could they send for Ubbi and Adam and Adela and the other orphans?

  Elgiva shook her head sadly. “Rain, he refuses to see you.”

  “But why?” Rain sank back down to the bed, frightened by the concern in Elgiva’s teary voice.

  “You would not allow me or Athelstan to tell him why you were with Steven. So, he believes—”

  “—that I was with Steven willingly. That I was his lover,” Rain finished for her.

  “He says he hates you, Rain. I am sure, in time, when he is more in control of his senses, he will recognize his misthinking. But he has been in a rage since his release, drinking and cursing and—”

  “Help me dress,” Rain said firmly, forcing herself to endure the pain of her battered body. “Whether you help me or not, I’m going to find Selik and talk to him.”

  After many futile arguments, Elgiva helped her don one of her own garments—a soft white wool tunic over a blue chemise. She put the amber beads lovingly around her neck and the dragon brooch at her shoulder. Standing before the polished metal on Elgiva’s wall, Rain saw dark circles under her eyes, and the weight she’d lost showed in her hollowed cheeks, but otherwise, no one would suspect the massive bruising hidden under all her garments.

  “Will you tell him the truth?” Elgiva asked as she helped her walk down the hall, carefully, like an aged cripple.

  Rain shook her head. “No—at least, not now. Maybe someday, when we’ve both had a chance to heal, but Selik couldn’t handle it now. He’s suffered so much already. I just know he would revert to his former life of bloody vengeance.”

  When they arrived at the door of Selik’s chamber, Rain heard some movement inside.

  “Shall I come inside with you?” Elgiva asked with concern.

  Rain shook her head. “No—but, Elgiva, thank you for all your help.” She hugged her friend warmly, then smiled expectantly.

  Finally, she and Selik would have a life together.

  Selik heard a knocking sound, but at first, he thought it was in his mead-sodden head. He tried to sit up several times, with no success.

  He looked to his side and jolted. A nude woman lay beside him in the rumpled linens. He groaned. ’Twas Blanche.

  He frowned, trying to remember. He had been drinking heavily the night before, but he knew for a fact that he had gone to his bed alone. What was the wench up to?

  He rubbed his eyes wearily, suddenly remembering why he had drunk so much yestereve. The bastard king had released him yestermorn, with no explanation. He’d been ordered to pay an enormous fine, turn over his property in Northumbria, and leave Britain forever.

  He did not care.

  He had lost much, much more.

  Rain! his tormented mind cried out, as it had for days. Rain…Rain…Rain…Rain…

  How could she? he kept asking himself over and over. There were no answers, just the inexorable facts. She had been with his most hated enemy, Steven of Gravely.

  Gravely was filth in his eyes, and now Rain was too. He would never, never, forgive her for her betrayal.

  The pounding at the door continued. Selik forced himself up off the bed and staggered toward the door, uncaring of his nudity. No doubt Athelstan had sent another messenger to remind him of his departure on the morrow. It could not be too soon for him.

  Ill-prepared for the sight of Rain standing before him in the doorway, he leaned against the door for support. Bloody hell! She looked like an angel standing there dressed in white, gazing at him through tear-filled golden eyes. Wearing his amber beads like a bloody badge of love. Damn her. He forced himself not to reach out for her, reminding himself that she was far from an angel. A dark angel, mayhap, for any goodness in her was surely wiped out by association with Satan’s own helper, Steven of Gravely.

  “Selik!” she exclaimed on a hoarse whisper and held out both arms for his embrace.

  Was she halfwitted? Did she truly expect him to welcome her back into his loving arms as if naught had transpired?

  He stepped aside as she reached for him, moving back into the room. She followed and saw Blanche’s naked form in his bed for the first time.

  She gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth in horror, staring up at him through wounded, accusing eyes.

  How dare she accuse him? Even if he had not actually touched a hair on Blanche’s winsome flesh, how bloody dare she reproach him?

  Blanche sat up and shot a contemptuous, triumphant look at Rain. She let the bed linens fall down to her waist, exposing her full breasts proudly. “Send the bitch away,” the slut cajoled. “Come back to bed, sweetling.”

  “Shut up.”

  Blanche whimpered at his harsh words, and Rain looked up at him hopefully.

  “What do you want?” he demanded of Rain, pulling on a pair of braies.

  “You,” she said in a low voice, darting a look at Blanche, then back to him in question. “You.”

  “Never.”

  “Why?”

  “How can you ask? I would never take Steven’s leavings, and I understand that is just what you are. The servants say he left several days ago, no doubt anticipating my release. Did your lover refuse to take you with him?”

  “He was never ray lover. Never,” Rain said vehemently.

  For the first time in days, Selik felt hope rise like water within his parched soul. He put his hands on both her arras, noting how she winced. Did his touch repulse her now? “What do you mean? Are you saying you were not with Gravely willingly?”

  Rain hesitated and her eyes pleaded with him oddly. Selik felt all his hopes die.

  “Get out,” he demanded, turning away from her.

  “Selik, it wasn’t the way you think,” she pleaded, moaning as if he had kicked her in the stomach.

  “How was it?” he snapped, turning on her with barely controlled rage. At that moment, he could have strangled her with no regrets for all the soul-searing pain she had caused him.

  Her shoulders slumped and tears slipped from her eyes. She would not answer, and that was all the answer he needed.

  “I love you, Selik,” she finally said.

  “I hate you. I never want to see you again,” he declared icily, digging his fingernails into his palms. “Never.”

  “Can’t you just trust me, Selik?” she begged. “Can’t you remember our love, and just trust?”

  Her soft sobs tore at his breaking heart, but he could not surrender to her traitorous kind of love. With determination, he walked to the bed and slipped under the linens with Blanche, turning his face away from Rain. For a very long time, he heard Rain standing near the door, crying raggedly.

  When the door finally opened and closed with a dull thud, he shoved Blanche away from him with distaste and ordered her to leave his chamber. Whining and then cursing, she left the room with a slam of the door. Selik sat up in bed then, putting both hands to his face.

  And he cried for all he had lost.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Two days later, Selik awakened from a drunken stupor and knew he could not go on without Rain. It did not matter if she had been with Steven of Gravely, or Lucifer himself. He loved her and could not live without her by his side.

  Trust in her.

  “God, if love of Rain does not kill me, You will with this bloody, infernal, never-ending badgering,” Selik muttered as he walked carefully, liked an aged cripple, to the doorway and yelled to a passing servant for bathwater. His own voice seemed to rattle inside his head, and he put both hands to his ears to hold in his loose brains.

  Loose brains is right, my boy. Did I not tell you to trust in love, and what did you do? Reject the best thing in life I ever gave you, that’s what. And by the way, I do not care for your mentioning Lucifer in My presence.

  “Oh, Lord,” Selik groaned. “Isn’t there some miracle you have to perform somewhere—like Iceland?”

  Selik knew Rain had returned to Northumbria the day after his rejection of her. Athelstan had
delighted in telling him that he had sent his own armed guard to accompany her. Selik was sure he would be able to come to some agreement with King Athelstan allowing him to stay in Britain, especially if he bartered his soul to the bloody Saxon, but—

  Not your soul, the voice interrupted, that precious commodity belongs to me.

  Selik looked skyward and crossed his eyes in frustration. “I meant that if I pledged my loyalty to him and paid a wergild equal to a king’s ransom, he might allow me to live on my own land.” He immediately chastised himself for carrying on a conversation with an invisible being. Perhaps he was finally going totally insane.

  Go to her.

  “Rain must hate me now.”

  She has good reason. If she does, convince her to love you again. You were e’er the master of seduction.

  Selik grinned ruefully. Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. What about Steven of Gravely? He could not allow him to escape again without punishment for his crimes. Yea, he should first go after Steven of Gravely and wreak his final vengeance.

  Vengeance is mine.

  “Says who?” Selik snapped back, hands on hips, addressing the ceiling of his bedchamber.

  Sayeth the Lord, you lackwit.

  “What did ye say, master?” asked one of the servants who was bringing in two buckets full of hot water. The scruffy lad was looking curiously at the rafters to see whom Selik addressed.

  “Never mind.”

  Selik shook his head at his growing conversations with himself. He no longer knew where his conscience left off and the spirit voice began. But then he began to think about the voice’s advice. Mayhap it was indeed time to set aside his vendetta against Steven, to establish some greater priorities in his life. Like Rain. He could seek Steven later—next month, next year, whenever. But the most important thing now was to find Rain and tell her that he still loved her.

  He thought he heard a great sigh of relief from above.

  For the first time in days, Selik smiled, and it was like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.