Lord of Hawkfell Island (12 page)

Rorik nodded, feeling rage flow over him, but mingled with that rage was respect. She was good, very good.

“But she still has to worry about Entti,” Hafter said. “That will slow her. By Thor's hammer, if she harms Entti, I'll strangle the witch myself. My poor Entti, so helpless against such as her. She probably doesn't understand what is happening. Ah, the woman has much to answer for, Rorik.”

“But I wonder if she could make Entti row?” Rorik said to no one in particular. “It is impossible for one man to row a warship.”

“And she is still naught but a small female, despite all her ploys,” said Gurd. “And she must control Entti as well. Entti is simple, Hafter, but she must realize sooner or later that the woman isn't her friend. Perhaps she will slow the woman. 'Twill not take us long to get her back.”

“We must find the other warship,” Rorik said, and they set off just as streaks of dawn were penetrating the thick foliage in the salt marsh.

They found the warship run against a log near the shore nearly a mile distant. They were sweating and filthy from walking in the bog. They rowed to the mouth of the estuary very quickly, scenting their victory. When they reached the sea, there was nothing in sight.

Rorik hadn't really imagined that she would be here,
perhaps run aground, but nonetheless he felt a shaft of fear and disappointment.

“Where did she go?” Hafter said.

“Back to Ireland,” Rorik said. “Back to her damned bastard of a brother.”

 

When the storm struck four hours later, Mirana and Entti were close to shore, staying just behind the breaking waves. Rain poured down, waves splashed over the sides of the warship, soaking them, the water resting in the bottom of the boat to lap over their feet. It was misery.

“We must get ashore and find shelter,” Entti said finally, so tired, she thought her arms would surely break off. With the force of the rain and the wind, they were making little headway. The effort wasn't worth any distance they were gaining.

“Aye,” Mirana said. “There isn't much of a choice now. The tide is tugging harder at us. I have no wish to be pulled out to sea.”

“I have no wish to have the boat fill with water and sink. Mirana, they won't find us. They were going inland to search. Don't worry about Rorik. This time we have outsmarted him, we outsmarted all of the men.”

“He's clever,” Mirana said, looking behind her, but seeing nothing through the impenetrable gray sheets of rain. “He's very clever and smart and shrewd.”

They managed to run the warship ashore, but it took all their combined strength to pull it far enough onto the beach so it wouldn't be whipped by the storm and the waves back out to sea.

They stood there, breathing hard, their heads down, their arms dangling uselessly at their sides. The rain pounded down, but still they didn't move.

“It's far enough in,” Mirana said at last, her chest still heaving. “If no one comes across it, it will be safe.”

Entti only nodded. It really made no difference. Neither of them had any more strength to pull it further. It would remain where it was.

“Let's get under the trees. Those thick oaks will provide some shelter at least.”

They huddled together as the storm raged overhead. The thick oak leaves did provide protection, but they were both soaked to the skin and there was naught they could do about it.

“We cannot become ill,” Mirana said as she and Entti pressed as close together as possible. “We cannot.”

The rain slowed to a drizzle in the early afternoon. The leaves overhead dripped on them, but it wasn't bad.

“I'm very hungry, Mirana,” Entti said.

“I too. We will have to eat berries and roots. I know what things are safe to eat, so you don't have to worry that I will poison us.”

Entti gave a rich laugh. “Aye, you believed my fiction as well as everyone else. I cook very well, for I was the daughter of a jeweler who loves his food as much as his silver. It's possible I know more than you since I am a bit older than you. Let us get on with our hunting.”

They found strawberries and blueberries, not terribly ripe, but ripe enough. They also dug up some cadmus roots. Without its tough skin, the cadmus was mushy pulp that tasted like bland porridge.

In the middle of the afternoon, the rain stopped, and the sun came out. It grew warm and soon their gowns were dry.

“I would like to sleep for a full day,” Entti said, on a
sigh, stretching. She felt her arms, stiff and sore. “How long will it take us to reach this fortress of yours?”

“With just the two of us rowing? I don't know.”

“Then we'd best get to it.”

They were just on the point of pushing the longboat back into the water, when there was a bloodcurdling yell. Two men were running down the beach toward them. They were wearing leggings and woolen trousers, and leather tunics. They were local Danes, and they'd seen two women and were doubtlessly overwhelmed with their unexpected find.

“Can you use a weapon as well as you cook?” Mirana asked.

“Nay, but I imagine that my fear will sharpen my skills. Give me the sword. I will have a better chance with something bigger.”

“But let us try to fool them first,” Mirana said. “Aye, let us be simple helpless females.”

She slipped the knife back into the pocket of her gown. Entti held the sword in the folds of her gown. Both women waited, not moving.

The two men stopped some ten feet from them. They were young, well formed, and there were huge smiles on their faces.

They called out a greeting.

Mirana, looking as frightened as a young virgin, backed up a step, her face pale, her left hand fluttering helplessly in front of her.

“We mean no harm,” the taller of the young men called out. “We've come to help you. We will take you with us.”

“And the boat,” said the other man, short and muscular as a bull. “Aye, we'll take the boat.”

They walked toward the women, swaggering now, still smiling, their teeth gleaming white in the
sunlight, as happy as two men could be having two lone women and a warship thrust into their waiting hands.

“Hold yourself ready,” Mirana said, still shrinking back in fright, her face creditably pale.

“B
Y ALL THE
blessed gods, what do you two women here? You are alone?”

The older man's eyes darted behind them, suddenly suspicious. There was a magnificent warship dragged out of the water onto the beach, but no men to have pulled it to safety from the storm, no men to have rowed it, no men in sight, that was.

Mirana, who thought them heedless fools, nonetheless trembled as violently as a leaf tossed about in the wind, and shook her head. “We're alone,” she whispered. “We have been so afraid.”

An unseen enemy was forgotten at her soft words. The man grinned and walked to Mirana. No, it was more like a swagger, she thought, the ass. She made no move when he clasped her chin in his callused palm and lifted her face. He brought his face close to hers and she could see the pock marks on his skin. She doubted he was as old as those ugly marks made him look. He said in a tender voice, “Aye, little bird, you're safe now. I'll take you. I am called Odom and my younger brother yon is Erm. You're quite beautiful. I have never before seen such hair—ah, the color, it's as black as a raven's belly. Is she your sister?”

Entti wore the same frightened look as Mirana. She stuttered and trembled, and nodded as Mirana said yes. She and Mirana looked nothing alike, for Entti's hair was a rich deep brown, her eyes an even darker brown—certainly not the green of Mirana's—and she was tall for a woman, as tall as the man who was in front of her, certainly much taller than Mirana. But the men didn't seem to notice all these differences, at least Mirana prayed they wouldn't until it was too late. The man Odom, who was holding her, was built like a bull. He was clutching her to him now as if she were a treasure he feared losing. She gave him no resistance. She was limp and submissive.

“Ah, Erm, look at the warship. It is well built. Our family will put it to fine use. But we, brother, we have found two beautiful women to ease us. I cannot believe our good fortune.”

“Aye,” Erm said and released Entti. “This day the gods have smiled on us.” He actually rubbed his hands together as he strode toward the warship, saying over his shoulder, “Stay together, little birds. My brother and I will take care of you. You have no more reason to be afraid.”

When Odom the bull moved off to join his brother, Entti said in a low voice to Mirana, “I'll lay you a fine wager just how they'll take care of us. What say you, Mirana?”

“Let us wait until they are completely lulled, completely without suspicion. Then we will act.”

Mirana gleaned from their talk that the brothers had wives and children and a farmstead just inland. The beach upon which they'd landed was just beyond the Thames estuary. The brothers were there to hunt, aye, just to hunt and perhaps to fish if there were no pheasant or wild pigs about. She saw them look at
each other then, their expression sly. They were very pleased with themselves, that was obvious to see. They slapped each other on the back. Two new slaves, both young and lovely too. It was a treasure they'd found and all because of this trip down to the beach to fish. Aye, they were happy men.

When they returned, Erm suddenly grabbed Entti, pulling her to him, and clutched wildly at her breasts. Obviously he'd looked his fill at his new warship and now he wanted the woman. She was soft and firm and he was eager, more than eager. He was ready to ravish her to his heart's content. She was nearly as tall as he was, but he was the stronger. He was a man and he was her new master.

He said into her face, his words meant for his brother, “Let's sate ourselves with them now. I have no wish to argue with my wife. And our other men will want them. There will be trouble, but I am willing to fight for them.”

“Aye,” said Odom as he smiled down at Mirana. “Please me and I'll see you're not abused. I'll protect you from all the others. Aye, I'll give you a new gown. This one you're wearing is very ugly and old.”

Entti heard Odom the bull's words and very nearly laughed aloud.

Mirana's fingers itched and tingled, tightening about the knife. She was ready. She prayed that Entti wouldn't panic.

It happened quickly. Odom grabbed Mirana about her waist and flung her to the sand. He straddled her with his knees on each side of her waist, content for the moment just to stare down at his gift from the gods. He reached out his hand and began to fondle her breasts. She made no move, merely lay there, waiting, waiting. His breath came more quickly and she knew
it wouldn't be long now. It wasn't. When he ripped up her gown and he fell atop her, he impaled himself on the knife she was clutching between her breasts. He reared up and stared down at her, blood bubbling from his shoulder, dripping down the knife handle onto her gown. He cried out, jerked back, and grabbed his shoulder. His fingers fluttered about the knife handle, but she could see he was afraid to pull it free of his flesh. Let him rot with it in him, she thought. She said nothing, merely waited. He could still kill her, despite the knife in his shoulder. She waited, silent and still.

Odom threw back his head and yelled, his voice filled with both pain and astonishment at what she had done to him, “Erm! Help me!”

Erm whirled about at his brother's strangled cry. His hand was on Entti's thigh, all his thoughts, all his concentration, on the soft flesh, on his lust, on how the woman wasn't fighting him, how she was accepting him. He yelled back in surprise, then leapt off Entti and ran to his brother. At that instant, Entti jumped after him, and jabbed the sword in his side. He yelled louder than her father ever had when he'd been bested by another jeweler.

 

“She is but one woman, Rorik,” Askhold said again, as if to reassure himself rather than Rorik or the others. “Entti is her prisoner. The woman has some hold over her, threatening her in some way, or promising her a better life with her brother. That, or Entti is just too simple to realize what is happening to her. If Mirana acted like her mistress, she might have just obeyed her blindly.”

Hafter frowned. “This has already been discussed, Askhold. I've already rejected that. Entti's not that
simple. The woman is hurting her, she has managed to gain some hold on her. I don't understand it, but it must be so.”

“Not that it matters now,” Askhold said. “Two women alone—they had no chance. The storm was brief but very deadly. My arms feel as though they've been pulled from their sockets. There are only two of them to handle the warship. They had no chance, Rorik. They must be dead. Mayhap we'll never find them.”

Rorik stared at Askhold. He said only, “Nay. Mirana is smart. I have told all of you this again and again. Believe me now. She has managed, I know it. Despite Entti's slowness, her simplicity, Mirana will survive. She would keep the warship close to shore. When the storm became too strong, she would beach it and wait for the weather to clear. Keep a sharp lookout, Gurd. We must have gained on them considerably.”

It was Hafter who saw the warship.

It was Rorik who saw the two men attack the women. He felt a curdling of fear in his belly, then he smiled, not at all surprised, when the man on Mirana reared back and fell onto his side, Hafter's knife sticking from his shoulder. But he admitted to astonishment when he saw Entti leap to her feet, run after the other man, and ram Hafter's sword into his side. She nearly missed, but she was strong, and the glancing blow carried enough force to knock the man down and make him yowl with pain.

“Let us go in quietly,” he said. “I do not wish to startle them.”

“Startle them, ha!” Gurd said, and spat over the side of the boat. “That damned woman, she's playing the man. We should kill her.”

It was Entti who saw them. The wounded men at their feet were forgotten.

Mirana cursed, pulled her knife from the moaning Odom's shoulder, and ran, Entti behind her, Hafter's bloody sword dragging in the sand.

“Why is Entti running away?” Hafter said. “She is Mirana's prisoner no more. Surely she must realize that. She should be running to me. I know she saw me and recognized me. She can't be that witless. She knows I will take care of her, save her from the witch.”

Rorik said nothing more until they'd pulled their warship onto the beach to rest beside the other one.

The women had long since disappeared into the trees by the time the men jumped from the warship onto the dark sand. The wounded men were also gone, both of them leaving trails of blood in the sand. The sun disappeared behind thick gray clouds. More rain threatened.

“Come,” Rorik said, and ran to where they had disappeared. When they reached the treeline, he stopped, and said, “Askhold, come here. We must track them now.”

“We will hear them,” Gurd said. “Rorik, you believe this woman to be beyond a woman, and that is madness. She is naught but a female when all is said and done. Aye, the two of them will make more noise than ten boars thrashing through this heavy undergrowth. They have no skill in—”

Rorik just shook his head, silencing Gurd.

“It is difficult,” Askhold said at last. “There are different footsteps here and they are merged together. It is the two men who were with the women, but I cannot be certain whose feet belong to the women, there is too much confusion, too much overlapping. See the spots of blood? It's from one or both of the men, but again, there is too much confusion to know which blood spots belong where.”

“So,” Rorik said, “she saw their steps and is trying to copy them to lead us astray.”

“Aye,” Gurd said, and spat in a mess of leaves, “now you'll be saying that she cut herself to mix her blood with theirs to confuse us all the more.”

“I wouldn't be surprised at anything she would do,” Rorik said. “I will tell all of you again, but you, Gurd, you will really listen to my words. Mirana is smart; she knows guile, she sleeps with cunning close to her breast.”

“Aye,” Askhold said, his eyes gleaming. “You were right, Rorik. She has a man's brain. Hold your thoughts to yourself, Gurd, they are useless to you and to us.”

Gurd looked both furious and uncertain, an unusual combination in the blacksmith, who had always known the way of things even when he was in the wrong. Then he just shook his head, and held his tongue.

Rorik said nothing more. He walked back to the beach and sat down two feet beyond the water line. He stared over the water, at the roiling heavy waves, churning and crashing onto the dirty sand.

His men looked at each other, but said nothing.

Rorik sat there quietly for some minutes. Then he rose, stretched, and said in surely an overloud voice, “Hafter, you will stay with me.” He divided the other men into two groups and told them what to do, again, his voice loud and carrying. They looked at him oddly, but nodded.

“And where will we go?” Hafter said, watching the other men disappear into the trees.

Rorik didn't look at him as he said quietly, “We will go into the maple woods just yon. Then we will double back and go over there, just beyond the point, and hide behind those black rocks.”

Hafter started to laugh, then he frowned, and slowly, his eyes never leaving Rorik's face, he, like the other men, nodded. “So that is why you nearly yelled in our ears.”

“Aye,” Rorik said, and grinned. “Now, let's make a good show of it.”

The two men slung water bags over their shoulders, arranged their weapons, strapped small packets of food to their waists, then strode toward the woods in the opposite direction of the other two groups. They looked purposeful; they looked determined. They looked ready to search until they collapsed from exhaustion.

 

“Patience,” Mirana said, lightly tugging back on Entti's sleeve.

“But they've been gone a very long time.”

“Not long at all,” Mirana said. “Rorik is smart as a snake. Doubt it not. I don't trust him.”

“He's a man and thus he believes women are weak and silly and without subtlety. He and Hafter are at least a mile from here now. You saw how he gave the other men orders, you saw how they walked—so sure of themselves—the direction they took. Let us go, Mirana. What if those men we wounded return with others? They will kill us, do not doubt it.”

Entti was right, but still Mirana didn't like it. The sun was shining again, the bulging gray rain clouds dispersing, and she knew they could gain distance from Rorik in the warship, even with just the two of them rowing, but still, she didn't trust him. She didn't know why she felt so strongly, but she did. Why would Rorik leave no one to guard the warships? Aye, that was it, that was why she knew, simply
knew
that something wasn't as it appeared to be. And why had he spoken so loudly? Still, Entti was right. If the men they'd
wounded returned with others, they would be in grave trouble.

Entti said, “We will steal the food from their warship and then cut it adrift. We will escape them for good this time. They know we are holding close to shore. Did you not tell me there were several large islands just off the coast? We could hide amongst the inlets. That would confuse them if somehow they managed to regain their warship, if somehow they managed to keep after us.”

Mirana sighed, for Entti was speaking to her with a bit of sarcasm, as one would to a stubborn child. She smiled at the irony of it. “You're right and your plan is a good one. Perhaps it is time. Perhaps I am wrong about Rorik this time, ah, but it vexes me, Entti.”