Dream of Me/Believe in Me (64 page)
Read Dream of Me/Believe in Me Online
Authors: Josie Litton
After the gods had dwelt in Asgard for a time, it came to them that there was no wall around their home to protect them. Despite their might, the gods remembered the fierceness of their enemies, the glants, and they wondered if they could truly be safe from them without a wall. As they were debating this, a stranger appeared in Asgard. He offered to build a mighty wall around the entire realm and promised he would have it done to their satisfaction within a single year. The gods were tempted to agree but first Odin, wisest among them, asked his price. The stranger faced great Odin boldly and said, “When I have built your wall, give me Frigg, fairest of all the goddesses. Oh, and I also want the sun and the moon.” Odin was outraged for not only would he never consider giving any goddess to a stranger but most especially he would not give his own wife. Truth be told, there were many times when Odin and Frigg argued, yet was she his and did he mean to keep her. Great Odin was about to dismiss the stranger from Asgard, when Loki, the trickster god, spoke up. He said they should agree to the stranger's terms but on condition that he build the wall in only half a year. Surely he would not be able to do
this, so he would be paid nothing and at the least, the gods would have half a wall for free. Reluctantly, Odin and the others agreed, although Frigg still was not happy and wept tears of gold. Almost half a year passed and to the shock of the gods, the wall was almost complete. The stranger was about to win his bet and take fair Frigg from them, not to mention the sun and the moon. Fortunately, Loki had an idea. “The stranger needs his powerful black horse to haul the stone to the wall,” Loki said. “I will lure the horse away and the wall will not be completed.” Loki changed his shape into that of a lovely white mare and as expected, the stranger's black stallion followed her into the woods. Realizing his horse was gone and he could not complete the job, the stranger was enraged. So angry did he become that he dropped his disguise, revealing himself to be a giant, enemy of the gods. At this, Odin summoned the strongest of the gods, mighty Thor, who struck the giant on the head with his immense hammer, making thunder ring throughout the heavens. Thus did the giant depart Asgard, the gods finished the wall for themselves, and eventually Frigg forgave Odin for almost losing her. Even Loki was welcomed back. When he returned, he brought with him a wondrous black horse with eight legs, named Sleipnir, which he gave to Odin. And that is how the gods of Asgard acquired their wall and how Odin acquired Sleipnir.
“Let's see now,” Hawk said when the applause had died away. “Loki went into the woods disguised as a white mare intent on luring away a black stallion, and returned sometime later with an eight-legged black stallion. Did anyone ever ask Loki just how Sleipnir came to be?”
Dragon grinned. “I don't believe anyone ever did, or leastways Loki never said. But we all know a trick may turn around and trick the trickster.” He gazed pointedly at Krysta. “Although sometimes a lucky trickster will escape unharmed.”
Although he looked at her in a friendly fashion, Krysta understood full well what he was saying. She was most fortunate to have escaped unharmed from the trick she had played on Hawk. Only the most foolish of women would tempt fate—and the patience of her lord—again.
“Loki never seems to learn his lesson,” Krysta said softly. She turned her eyes to Hawk. “Humans are wiser in that regard.”
Her response pleased him but before he could reply, Edvard broke in. The young steward had imbibed a little more than usual, perhaps encouraged by pretty Aelfgyth's frequent smiles, and his usual reserve had fallen away. “What about what Odin did?” he challenged. “Agreeing to barter his wife for a wall, even if he didn't believe he'd end up having to pay, was very foolish.”
“That's true,” Dragon agreed. “But Odin never seems to know how to handle Frigg. He's always doing things that anger her and embolden her to defy him.”
“If Odin stayed at his own hearth more,” Krysta said, “not to mention in his own bed, he wouldn't need to worry about
handling
Frigg and she wouldn't be so inclined to oppose him.”
Barely had she spoken than Krysta blushed. She realized in an instant how everyone would construe her words and wished desperately that she could snatch them back. It was one thing to tell Hawk when they were alone that the path to peace did not lie through other women's beds. To announce the same to all and sundry was more than a man was likely to tolerate.
“What I meant—” she began.
“I think we all know what you meant,” Hawk said. To
her amazement, he smiled. Leaning closer, he said for her ears alone, “It takes a very confident woman to stake such a claim. Are you sure you're equal to it?”
Krysta's flush deepened. He knew perfectly well she couldn't be sure, just as he knew she had never been with a man and thus had no way of knowing how adept she would prove. But not for the world would she admit any of that to him. With a light shrug of her shoulders, she said, “I rather think that depends on you, my lord. Wouldn't you agree?”
She watched, fascinated, as passion flared in his eyes. He was half out of his chair, looking for all the world as though he intended to take her away right then and there, when Dragon said, “All this talk of marriage brings to mind another story. I had this from an Irishman I met in Byzantium. He swore it was true and claimed even to know the poor fellow involved:”
The mighty lord of an Irish clan was out one day in his curragh. He had gone out alone, away from the bustle of his court, because he needed to think over a problem he faced. You see, this lord knew that he should marry but he could not decide which young woman he wanted to take to wife. There were so many to choose among that he found himself drawn first to one, then to another. Yet he knew his duty, and as he rowed across the bay near his holding, he was resolving how he might do what was right. Just as he was thinking about the daughters of the neighboring clan chieftains, he saw a strange shape moving through the water near him. So startled was he that he rose up in the curragh, seized the net he was carrying, and threw it out into the water. His aim was sure and the net engulfed the creature even as it tried to flee. The lord pulled in the net and to his utter amazement
found himself gazing upon a young woman of extraordinary beauty. With no adornment save her own milky white skin and ebony hair, she was by far the most desirable woman he had ever seen. Straightaway, he made up his mind to marry her. The lord took his bride home and presented her to his people. Although they were surprised, to be sure, none would gainsay him. The lord and his lady from the sea were wed, and in due time they had strong sons and daughters. All seemed as it should be save for one strange habit of the lord's. Regularly, every few days or so, he would go off by himself to a place only he knew. He only stayed a short time but he never failed to go, and whenever he went, he ordered his wife locked in her chamber so that she could not follow him. This went on for years until finally one day the lady asked her eldest daughter to follow her father. The girl did as she was bid and reported back to her mother that the lord's destination was a small cave not far from their holding. The girl had not dared to follow him inside, but this did not seem to trouble her mother. She thanked the girl, then kissed her gently and told her how very much she loved her and all her other children. The next day, the lady vanished. She was never seen again, although the gown she had been wearing was found in front of the cave to which the father had gone these many years. As her children wept for her, their father confessed the truth. When he drew their mother from the sea, he found something else in the same net that held her, the skin of a skelkie. Right away, he knew it for what it was and recognized that the beautiful maiden he had captured was an enchanted creature who could only stay with him so long as she could not
repossess her skelkie skin. Faithfully, he cared for it, going to the cave every few days to make sure it remained wet as it must and in good condition, for if it did not, he knew she would die. But never did he want her to leave him, so he kept the whereabouts of the skin a secret. Once a skelkie rediscovers her skin, she can do naught but return to it and to the sea, as his wife had finally done. As long as he lived after that, the lord went to the sea every day and looked out over it, as though searching for his lost wife and beseeching her to return to him. From time to time, a shape could be seen far out in the water looking back at him, but she never came near again.
“A
strange story,” Hawk said thoughtfully. He had heard more than a few odd tales but never one odder than that. Offhand, he wasn't inclined to believe it, yet he had to admit that some of the strangest tales turned out to be the truest. For instance, there was the one about an island to the west with mountains that spewed rivers of fiery mud. What sane man would believe that? Yet he knew men of impeccable sense who swore to have seen it with their own eyes.
Dragon seemed to feel the same way. “I admit it sounds unlikely but who knows? Besides, if any place harbors such creatures, it would be Eire. Have you ever been there?”
Hawk had not and didn't expect he would ever make the journey. He had his hands full trying to help Alfred put England to rights.
“The Norse have established a holding at a place called Dubh Linn,” Dragon went on. “Unless the Irish manage to unite their many clans, it is likely that far more of their fair isle will be lost before long.”
“What is it that compels you Norse to prefer the
lands of others to your own?” Hawk meant no offense by the question, he was genuinely curious. The Danes he thought he understood well enough for they were driven by the same lust for wealth and power as seemed to strike many Saxon men. But the Norse, who were cousins to those very same people, seemed to seek both less and more, preferring land above all else.
“Mayhap there is not enough of our own,” Dragon said good-naturedly. “Our lands are beautiful but harsh. Little can be grown save in the scant months of summer. In deepest winter, not even the sea can be harvested. We tend toward large families, so some of us must seek our livelihoods elsewhere.”
This seemed a reasonable enough answer and Hawk was mulling it over when he noticed that Krysta suddenly appeared paler. So bright was the moon as to make the torches all but unnecessary. In the glow of silvery light, the flush that had stained her cheeks scant minutes before seemed to have disappeared. Even as he watched, she pressed her lips tightly together and stared down at her hands twisting in her lap.
“Is something wrong?” he asked quickly, wondering what could have upset her so.
She stared at him with wide, dilated eyes. He was shocked to realize that she seemed genuinely afraid.
“Nothing is wrong,” she said, and managed a wan smile. “I'm merely tired.”
Not for a moment did he believe her. Something had distressed her deeply but he had no idea what it could possibly be. Swiftly, he glanced around the table. Daria and the priest had their heads together and were scowling; he saw nothing unusual in their behavior. Edvard had settled a pretty maid on his lap and was chatting with her happily. Hawk's lieutenants were drinking and laughing with their Norse guests—nothing out of place there. He glanced further down along the tables and saw Krysta's
odd servants, Thorgold and the Raven woman, both apparently content. What, then … ? He ran over in his mind what had happened in the past few minutes but could find nothing to account for Krysta's strange behavior. Granted, Dragon had teased her about her trick in coming to Hawkforte disguised, but she'd taken that perfectly well and had seemed to recover from her own boldness in declaring her sympathy for Frigg. But was that it? Had his so-obvious desire for her caused this distress? Yet had she seemed unafraid of passion when they kissed in the stable.
He told himself that he had to remember she was but a young and untried girl, newly arrived in a far land and confronted by a stranger to whom she had been given with no thought to her own feelings, a stranger who would henceforth have complete control over her life. Granted, the same fate befell most women, but he supposed that did not make it any easier or pleasant.
Reluctantly, he thought of his first wife. They had been wed so short a time and so many years had passed since then that he could not recall her features with any clarity. Yet could he remember her reluctance in the marriage bed and the habit she had of shirking from him whenever he came near. In all modesty, he knew he had not lacked for gentleness or skill, but that had not mattered. The thought of enduring such a marriage again filled him with dread. He was willing to do virtually anything to avoid it.
Even to restrain the desire he had felt since the first moment he saw his Norse bride-to-be until he could be certain that she shared his passion.
He sighed inwardly, knowing he set himself a task from which most men would shirk. But he was a warrior and a leader. He would damn well find as much patience as was needed. On such grim thought, he drained his ale and did not object when the servant filled his goblet again.
