Raging Sea (18 page)

Staring into her eyes, he pleasured her until she was wet and panting. Then he unlaced his breeches and took out his cock. Pressing forward, he found the place he wanted and entered her in one thrust. He guided her hips down and she hissed as she slid down his length, seating him deep within her.

“I have noticed,” Soren said as he withdrew and thrust again. “You want me after you have been in the sea,” he whispered. Leaning forward until she was sitting on the stairs, he shifted so that he could enter her by driving his flesh up and back into her.

She arched up against him then, her flesh grabbing and holding him, creating a marvelous friction as he moved in and out of her. If his weight on her bothered her, she said nothing. Always she opened for him and allowed him his way.

Within the tight area of the steps, Soren could not move the way he wanted to, so he took hold of her and walked up to the main chamber. She laughed when he nearly dropped her, but her legs around his hips kept him seated within her. As soon as they were out of the stairway, he knelt down and settled deep inside of her with a moan. One she matched.

And then he took her the way she liked him to—thrusting deep, pulling out and plunging back in, hard. He reached up and tried to unlace the ties of her gown. He wanted his hands on her breasts. He wanted to kiss them and bite the nipples and make her scream. When the ties resisted, he tore them apart as she laughed.

“I would have loosened them,” she said as he covered one nipple, sucking it into his mouth and teasing the tip with his teeth.

“It was taking too long, Ran.”

Kiss, lick, suck, bite. Then listen to her release a sigh or moan deep in her throat. He left marks this time, small red love bites along the undersides of her breasts that she would see when she dressed or bathed. Kiss, lick, suck, bite. She arched against him, clutching her strong legs around him, trying to keep him buried in her.

“You are taking too long, Soren,” she whispered.

“Is that a challenge? Should we see who finishes first?”

Her laugh turned to moans and gasps and then screams as he plundered her. He would make her come first. Rolling to one side, he slid one hand down her back and slipped his thickest finger against the puckered opening. He did not enter, just pressed against it as though he would.

“Soren,” she yelled out.

“You made the wager,” he whispered, sliding his other hand down between her legs and against the little bud of flesh that was most sensitive. Hooking his finger against the bud, he held her tightly in his grip. If she moved or squirmed, she pushed him in deeper, either his fingers or his cock.

He knew the moment she gave in, thrusting herself against the hand in front, so that his cock moved, too. Enough play, he decided. Taking his hands from pleasuring her, he rolled her to her back and held her arse tightly. Then he counted his thrusts—an old game between them.

“One.” He thrust deep and pulled back with a shift of his hips.

“Two.” Another thrust, sliding them along the floor.

“Three.” She shuddered then, it began deep inside around his cock and then took over her body.

“Four, five, six.” Her body clenched tightly around his flesh and continued to spasm as she peaked.

He gentled his movements then and continued until she softened around him. Then he allowed himself to find release.

“I remember when you could hold out until the eighth or ninth one,” he said against her hair, when he could breathe again.

“I do also,” she agreed. He lifted off her and she slid back. She was thoroughly taken and tousled. Her hair was a mess, her lips were swollen and her breasts exposed to him through the opening in her gown. The reddened marks would blossom by morning, reminding her of his attentions.

“You look . . . well pleasured.” He knelt and leaned over, kissing her gently. “Are you well pleasured?”

“Aye, truly,” she whispered back.

“Ran . . .” he began.

He wanted to tell her he'd loved no one else but her. That he taken no one else to his bed since she'd left it. And none before. But that would mean exposing her father's sins at a time when she most needed to believe him blameless. He could not do that to her, not even to make his path with her easier.

“Nay, Soren,” she said, slipping from his grasp and standing. “I do not wish to hear about the past. We have now, this day, and we know not how many more. If we are successful, if we survive this ungodly challenge, then we can speak of the past.”

It was probably best, considering that he had no other reason to rescue or attempt to rescue Svein than the man's place in Ran's heart. He would do it for her.

But he needed to find a way to rescue Ander for himself.

They would have made it back to the camp in time for the evening meal, if she had not issued another challenge. And having won that one, she offered him the chance to break their tie. That third time he would remember for a very long time and he would smile when he did.

They arrived to find the camp settling down for the night, but the leaders waited for them. Though the night and the shadows cast by the fires hid Ran's becoming blushing, there was not a man or woman in that camp who did not know what they'd been doing and why they were so late.

Or what he would do again as soon as they could manage a few minutes of privacy.

R
an could not meet any of the gazes that now focused on her around the unlit fire. But for now she must. Knowing where the circle was meant that they needed to come up with a plan to get to it and seal it.

In doing that she was condemning her father to death, one not of his choosing or fault. And though he was guilty of many, many things, none of them deserved this ending. Hugh de Gifford was torturing him, both by physical means and using his men, his ships and her against his mind and heart.

And now another innocent, truly an innocent man of God, would pay for sins he did not commit.

All as evil pursued its own course.

Ran explained what she'd seen, blushing through the description of the fertility ritual. With Aislinn's help she was able to concentrate on everything else going on around the ceremony and describe the location and appearance of the circle that now lay under the water.

The priests were fascinated by her descriptions of the old gods they worshipped. To hear of their human embodiment and the worship, even the ritual she'd witnessed, gave them more knowledge about their gods than they had before.

“But that is what happened in our ritual,” Brienne said. Still thinking about the couple rutting in front of everyone, Ran startled. “Not that part,” Brienne admonished with a teasing tone. “The stones we consecrated with our blood grew impossibly tall and met in the middle over the void. And I saw something, someone, in the sky above us,” she added.

“Living stones?” Aislinn asked. “Could each of the circles actually have the gods within them?”

“Marcus, tell us what you know of their leave-taking,” Soren said to the priest.

Did he notice that Soren moved closer to her and touched her as they talked? His hand on hers. His leg against hers. His eyes on her. Ran forced herself back to the conversation.

“The legends say that after the evil one's betrayal and imprisonment, the gods decided to leave humanity behind. They had long been familiar with humans, so they strengthened the bloodlines of their descendants to carry the powers needed to defeat her if she ever rose again. There has never been a mention of how they left or if they actually remained here.”

“But many generations spoke of them still being here, did they not?” Aislinn asked.

“Aye,” Marcus nodded. “Some thought them so enamored of humans that they would never have left. Some said the gods still spoke to them. Some stories of their accomplishments and traditions have been appropriated by other gods.” Marcus looked at William and the other Christians in the group and then at those of Norse descent.

“Will the ritual be the same at each circle, Marcus?” Roger asked. Roger's men had been instrumental in defeating Hugh de Gifford's human forces and preventing more of the priests from being killed.

“I, we, know that the blood of the two must be mixed on the altar with that of the third, the priest. Then the prayers must be said and they must sanctify the stone that bears their mark with the blood.” Marcus looked to William and Brienne and Aislinn, who nodded in agreement. “If the blood is spilled together on the ground and touches the barrier before the three touch the stones, it will tear open the void and she will escape. If the altar stone is broken after the blood mixes and spills on the ground without the stones being blessed, she will win.” All of the priests mumbled several words under their breath when he said that.

“But what will make this time different,” Aislinn said softly, looking at Ran and Soren, “is that neither of those who must enter is the fireblood. So Hugh cannot do this himself.”

“So we are safe because he needs us?” she asked.

“No one is safe, Ran,” Marcus said, with a sad smile. “Once the three are within the circle, it closes itself so none can enter. But if the wrong prayers are spoken, all within will be destroyed.” He met their gazes then. “All three within would be destroyed, leaving Hugh alive to find the next gate and leaving us without two of the bloodlines.”

“But the gate would be sealed?” she asked. More and more it sounded as though a sacrifice of some kind must be made to overcome this evil. A sacrifice of their own lives.

“The gate would be useless, but not sealed. And we will have lost three valuable people of power with two more gates where he could succeed,” Aislinn added.

“But if he is not within and cannot enter, then Soren and I and Aislinn or Marcus can finish the ritual and seal it closed.”

“Hugh will not allow us to come out unscathed,” William said. “He and his men killed a number of our fighting men and our priests. We cannot afford such a loss again,” he warned.

“So Hugh will have to believe he controls someone or two or all three of those who go in?” Ran asked.

“He would not trust any of you to do his bidding,” Soren suggested. “That is why he took Ander. He will torture him until he follows his orders and then send him in to say the prayers.”

“But he is not practiced in our worship!” Marcus objected. “He knows not the prayers or the ceremonies or how to bond with us.”

“The gods have marked him, Marcus. As they decided that Einar would have powers and knowledge such as he had,” Aislinn added. “Already Ander has learned much through dreams and visions.”

They grew quiet, taking all of this into consideration.

“Ander is a faithful servant of his God,” Marcus said. “Would he not rather give up his mortal life to save his immortal soul?”

“Aye, Marcus, he would,” Soren agreed. “Unless he thought he
was
fighting evil.” His voice had dropped so low it had been difficult to hear him.

With a quick signal, William motioned to all of them to cease talking. Ran watched as glances were shared and nods of assent went through the group. She thought she understood what was happening, but she wanted to speak to Soren in private.

“'Tis late and there is much to think on,” William announced. “We will make our plans on the morrow.” Standing, he held out his arm to his wife. “Brienne?”

Everyone watched as they left and walked toward their tent. Marcus and Roger remained, speaking about some matter. Aislinn told her of the uneasy friendship between the two—one who relied only on what he could see or know and the other who had faith only in the unknown and unseen.

She and Soren had been sleeping apart, but she did not want that now. A sense of impending disaster grew within her with each passing hour and day, and she wanted to be with him.

“I will walk you to your tent,” Soren said, waiting for her. “Come.”

“Ran,” Aislinn touched her arm before she could walk away. “I have moved my things to another tent, so that you may . . .” Aislinn looked at Soren and back at her; now the priestess was the one to blush. “I thought you would like to be together.”

Ran smiled as the young woman rushed away. As always, the brutish Norman soldier dogged her steps. Hand in hand, Ran and Soren walked to the tent positioned nearest the water and entered. As soon as they did, the winds began to swirl and blow outside.

“I thought you were controlling them?”

“I am,” he said, with a mysterious smile.

Did he plan to take her again now? Did his hunger match hers? She began to unlace the strung-together laces of her gown, hoping to save them from further damage, when he placed his hand on hers and shook his head.

“The winds will cover all manner of noise this night,” he whispered, as he put his finger to his lips. “Fog would be a welcomed help.”

A minute passed and then the back flap of the tent lifted and William entered. With a nod to her, they sat down in the dark tent and discussed a plan of Soren's that he had hinted at.

The night that she thought would be spent in his arms was instead spent with a parade of visitors, whose arrivals and departures were covered by the winds whipping outside or by the fog that formed and dissipated several times through that night.

•   •   •

“So what is the plan then, William Warblood?” Marcus asked.

Ran walked out of their tent to find the discussion going on in the center of the camp. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

“The same we used before, the two go into the circle with the priest and perform the ritual. The rest of us will deal with whatever Hugh brings against us outside the circle.” William glanced at Marcus and Aislinn. “Once you reveal and open the circle.”

“It will not work,” Soren said, walking up and sending the discussion into an uproar. “I know you are the trained knight and warblood, but we need to attempt something different. He will use whatever and whomever he can against us—against Ran and me. He has her father and all his men. He has my friend.”

“And how do you think it should work, Soren?” William asked. Ran winced at his belligerent tone. When he crossed his arms over his massive chest and his gaze grew red, everyone but Brienne became nervous. “You do not know this man. There are no limitations to his evildoing. He will crush your friend and then destroy all of us.”

Soren stood and went toe to toe with the warblood then. Not a good idea from the growling sounds the slightly blue warrior was making. Brienne stepped between them, whispering furiously to her husband, who once again was his human self. Letting out a breath, William spoke calmly now.

“How do you think this should be handled?”

“I think that I will make a bargain with de Gifford to protect all that is important to me.” His gaze fell on Ran and she felt the heat of a blush in her cheeks once more.

“You are not with us, Stormblood?” Marcus asked.

“I do not know any of you. Why should I accept your word on this?” Soren said, indignantly. “Lord de Gifford has offered safety for me and those I care for. I can protect my lands and retain my power when his goddess comes.”

“When did he offer this to you?” William asked.

“I went searching for Ran's father. Lord Hugh and I spoke.” Ran winced again, knowing full well it was not a discussion. But for their purposes here and now, she did not contradict him.

“You think to trust him? Do not, Soren,” said Brienne.

“I do not trust him, but I know not all of you. You arrived on our island and began giving me orders. Tell me why I must do what you say.” Soren crossed his arms now and shook his head. “I will speak to him and see if I can trust him.”

“You cannot unleash this evil on the world, no matter what promise he makes you,” Roger argued. “Believe not a word he says.”

“As I said, I will make my own judgment.”

“And when he destroys you and everyone and everything you hold dear? How are we supposed to stop him then?” Brienne asked. “He is my father, Soren. I know him. Do not trust him.”

Soren stood alone in the middle of them, each one trying to convince him to stay. It was time for her to play her role.

“Soren, what do you mean to do?”

“I told you, Ran. These people are the strangers here. I am going back to speak with Lord Hugh. To strike a bargain,” Soren said.

“But he holds my father and Ander, demanding our compliance,” she said. “We cannot bargain to let evil return to this world.”

“I think if we give him what he wants, he will leave our lands and our lives can go back to what they were,” Soren said.

“What life would that be, Soren? The one we planned to have together? The one that you destroyed by seducing my brother's betrothed? Or the one you have now? You have none because the woman you seduced and was forced to marry died.”

Try as she might to say these things as though in a play, the bitterness that lived within her seeped into the words. Aislinn, Brienne and Soren watched her closely and she knew they'd heard the truth within the planned words.

“I think you should go, Soren,” she said, turning away from him.

He disappeared in a second.

A strong wind wound its way through the camp, pulling up tents and stirring up the sands. When it moved out over the sea, she could feel him touching the water.

“What will we do now, William?” she asked. Ran did not know the next step, only that they would wait for Hugh to communicate with Soren.

“We should move our camp to be closer to the circle. We must be there to help however we can,” he said. Raising his voice, he continued. “We have to hope he comes to his senses and realizes he cannot bargain with the devil and think to win.”

She nodded and watched the warblood walk off. She felt sick—her stomach roiled and her head hurt, almost as though they had truly fought. Even knowing most of it had been a performance meant for the spies sent by Hugh, all she wanted to do was go to the sea. But to do so now would look as though she chased after Soren.

She would, though not yet.

So she went to find Aislinn and hoped the young priestess could share more of her knowledge about the old gods with her.