Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 02] (12 page)

He looked at the small digging implement and realized that, in truth, he had not been thinking clearly.
Slow down
, he told himself silently.
Stop letting your emotions rule your head. Think
.

“Tell me then,” he said more calmly.

She held his gaze, her honey eyes sparkling with challenge. “I was burying the—she swallowed hard several times before continuing—“the scalps you took yesterday.” Her eyes flashed defiantly as she awaited his usual angry outburst.

The scalps. The bloody witch is trying to counter the
behaettie.
God, she never ceases to amaze me
.

“Oh, really, close your mouth, Selik. It’s quite unbecoming.”

He snapped his slack lips together in chagrin at being caught gawking. “Those words you were chanting—are they a charm?” he asked, still unconvinced.

At first, her brows furrowed in puzzlement. Then she laughed—a clear, surprisingly pleasant sound that carried across the clearing. He saw Ubbi look up hopefully from his work with the horses, as if thankful that he had not yet lopped off her head.
Bloody hell
.

“I was saying some prayers, Selik,” she finally explained gently. “Christian prayers for burial.”

“You would pray for the salvation of my enemies?” he asked icily.

“I would pray for
anyone
, Selik. Even you. Especially you.”

“Save your prayers. You had no right to take what belongs to me. Or bury it without my permission.”
Holy Thor! The woman must have the mettle of a seasoned warrior to have handled the bloody objects. And to face his fearsome fury
.

“I did what I had to do. Will you punish me?”

“Do you want to be punished?”

“Of course not. But I’ve had plenty of time to
think this all through while you snored the night away—”

“I do not snore.”
Do I? No one ever remarked on it afore
.

Her beautiful lips twitched at the edges as she tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin. “Like a bear.”

Moving away from the odd grave, Rain motioned Selik to follow her. Amazed that she would order him about, he was equally incredulous that he followed like a meek puppy. Next he would be licking her face.
Aaah! Now that conjures up some interesting possibilities
. He grinned, despite his annoyance.
Next I will be wagging my tail
. He burst out with a chuckle of self-derision at that prospect.

“What’s so funny?”

“You. Me. My life.”

Rain tilted her head questioningly and dropped down to the ground near the small pond. She pulled up her long legs—seductively outlined in all their glorious length by his braies—so that her chin rested on her knees and her arms were wrapped around her calves.

He had difficulty swallowing past his dry throat.

Sliding down beside her, he rested his back against a tree. Not too close. Her nearness disarmed him mightily and he must remain alert with the wily wench.

“Selik, I seem to have no choice about being here with you, but we have to come to an agreement.”

He waited for her to explain.

She licked her lips with the tip of her tongue as if to gather her thoughts, and he remembered how it had felt inside his mouth yestereve. Involuntarily, his traitorous body jolted to immediate awareness.

“I want you to promise to never, never scalp another person again.”

He sat straighter. “You have no right to make demands on me.”

“I wasn’t demanding,” she corrected him. “Notice that I asked. Rather nicely, I thought.”

“Why should I stop?”

“Well, I wish you would stop just because I asked you to, but it’s obvious that my opinion isn’t important enough to you.”

She blushed when he failed to correct that impression. In truth, she was becoming much too important.

“Selik, did you practice such barbarism when Astrid was alive?”

He shot immediately to his feel, hovering over her. She did not flinch a speck. “Nay, I did not, but I was a different man then. I had a soul. And a heart. I have neither now. Nor do I want them.”

She looked wounded at his words. Bloody hell! Why would she care so much?

“Selik, I would like to make bargain with you.”

“Pray tell. I cannot wait to hear what you have to offer.”

“If you will promise never to—to—well, do that awful thing again, I promise I will never try to escape.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “So, you were planning to escape?”

“No, that’s not what I said,” she snapped impatiently, “but I could if I wanted to. After all,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes, “I have God on my side.”

“I thought you denied being a angel.”

She averted her eyes guiltily. “Yes, well, you never know, do you?”

She was lying through her teeth. And so poorly that she could not look him in the eye or hide the flush of embarrassment from her fair cheeks.

“Ubbi found your feather in the bed furs,” he pointed out with dry humor.

“My feather?”

“He thinks ’tis from your wings. You know, the wings you can spread or hide under your skin at will.”

He grinned at the surprise on her intrigued face.

Then they both burst out laughing.

“Well, do you agree to my proposal?” she asked finally.

Actually, Selik hated the
behaettie
and always had. But even worse, he loathed his berserk rage yestermorn when he had seen the half-decayed, eyeless bodies of his good friends lying on the battlefield like refuse. “Mayhap. Exactly what do you promise?”

“I will never try to escape.”

“And if you disagree with something I do in the future?” he asked skeptically.

She raised her brow ruefully. “I will whack you on the head or give you a piece of my mind, but I won’t leave.”

“This is important to you, is it not?”

“Yes. Oh, yes,” she said, closing her eyes briefly before speaking. “When I was a young girl, my brother Eddie was a soldier. He was killed in a fight which even the government later admitted was pointless.”

“And that is when you became a paci…pacifist?”

She nodded. “Later I became a doctor and started working in an inner-city hospital. The murders and mutilations these young gang members inflict on each other is a powerful argument against violence.”

“But some fighting cannot be avoided,” he argued.

“You may be right about that. I don’t know. But back to the scalping thing—if you will do this for me, at least I’ll feel I’ve made one small step toward helping you. It’s important to me, Selik.”

“Then I agree. As long as you are with me, I will take no more
behaettie
.”

Rain pressed her lips together thoughtfully. “About the captives—”

“Do not press your luck.”

The outrageous wench just shrugged, as if he should not blame her for trying. “Well, we have a bargain then.” She smiled widely, and Selik’s heart lurched oddly in his chest, then seemed to expand with lightness. He did not like the feeling.

She stood and held out her hand to him sideways, palm open. He stared at it, confused. Did she want him to hold it?

She seemed to understand his bafflement and explained, “In my ti…my country, we shake hands when we finalize an agreement. Like this.” She placed his right palm against hers and closed both their fingers lightly in the clasp, then showed him how to shake briskly up and down. But all Selik could concentrate on was the intense shock of pleasure generated by her skin against his. He never wanted to let go.

He inhaled sharply and could not break contact with her luminous eyes, which showed too clearly that she was equally affected.

Quickly dropping her hand, as if his flesh had suddenly caught fire, he muttered under his breath, “The witch has cast a spell on me.”

But Rain heard his softly spoken words. “If there is a spell, then I’m in its thrall too,” she replied huskily.

Wonderful! We can both stagger through this nightmare life I lead under the curse of that troublemaker god Loki. Or Rain’s own Christian God. Or the devil, for all I know. Bloody hell!

Feeling very pleased with herself the rest of the day, Rain hummed as she worked with the patients in the hospital tent. She wasn’t deluding herself that
Selik had made any giant leaps toward sudden reformation. It was a small victory, but every journey begins with the first step, she reminded herself.

“Why are you smiling?” Tykir asked from where he lay propped up in his hospital pallet. He had been conscious the entire day and his health improved by the minute, to Rain’s delight. She would have so much to tell Dr. Lee on her return.

“I’m smiling because I won a small battle with Selik today. Actually, that’s not quite true. It was a compromise. We were both winners in this particular skirmish.”

Tykir raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Selik? I can hardly credit that he would bend to anyone’s will.” Then he winked lewdly. “The enticement must have been powerfully tempting.”

Rain slapped Tykir playfully on the arm. “Behave yourself, little brother. You are still weak, and I am in a position to make life very uncomfortable for you.”

“Ah ha, now the pacifist discloses her true colors.”

Rain smiled, knowing Tykir referred to the pacifism lectures she’d been delivering to him all day. “Oh, there are nonviolent means of punishment for an imaginative person. For instance, I could have Ubbi prepare all your meals.”

Tykir groaned in an exaggerated fashion. “Oh, please, not that. Better the water torture.”

Rain laughed at Tykir’s lighthearted attitude. It was so good to see him feeling better, acting much the same as his modern clone, her brother Dave.

“How soon ’til I can travel?” he asked, suddenly serious. “I must get back to Ravenshire afore the Saxons try to confiscate the property.”

“One week,” Selik said before Rain could answer. He had come up behind her without her noticing and stood watching the easy interchange between
her and her brother with a bemused expression on his face.

“Oh, no, he’ll never be well enough by then,” Rain protested. “At least two weeks more. Maybe even three.”

“We will be leaving in seven days, even if we have to carry Tykir on a sledge.”

“I will not be dragged about like an old man,” Tykir complained indignantly. “Starting on the morrow, I will exercise my leg every day. T will ride in one week if it kills me.”

“It just may do that,” Rain commented with worry, slanting a look of condemnation at Selik.

“Every day we delay, so close to Brunanburh, brings the danger closer,” Selik explained. “Even now, the Saxons could be gathering forces to come after us. Tykir understands why we cannot wait any longer.”

“Yea, I do, Selik, and I am grateful that you have stayed with me so long.” He cast a gentle look at Rain and squeezed her hand in reassurance, “I come from strong stock. I intend to survive for a good long time. Mayhap I will even dance at your wedding.” He jiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

“My wedding!” Rain exclaimed, dumbfounded. “What would make you think I intend to get married—
ever?
”

Tykir rolled his eyes heavenward. “A little angel told me.”

Selik looked as if he were going to be sick.

That evening Rain sat cross-legged on the floor of Selik’s tent, a fur under her bottom and another thrown over her shoulders to protect her from the cold. She worried about the captives sleeping outside on the ground. Even though Selik had somehow found clean clothing and furs for them all—and heaven only knew where he had
purloined them, probably off dead bodies somewhere—the autumn night had turned markedly cold.

She wanted to ask him if he could find tents for them as well, but his face went infuriatingly stubborn every time she brought up the subject of the captives. She determined to pick her battles carefully and wear him down with kindness.

Rain dumped the contents of her carryall on the ground in front of her, deciding it was time for a little inventory of all she had brought from the present on her unexpected trip.

Aside from her small emergency medical kit, she carried a meager amount of cosmetics—a mirrored compact, mascara, blush, and a tube of strawberry-flavored lip gloss, which would present some interesting possibilities if she ever kissed Selik again. Which, of course, she would not do, she told herself stubbornly, then immediately amended,
Who are you kidding?

Other than a comb and brush, her wallet and checkbook, a really handy thing to have in the tenth century—ten thousand dollars in the bank and not a dime to spend—all Rain had was a Rubik’s Cube, which she often used to release tension during breaks between surgery, and two packs of Lifesavers—assorted flavors and Tropical Fruits. She popped a green candy in her mouth and put her belongings back in the bag.

She was fiddling with the Rubik’s Cube, the tip of her tongue pressed between her lips in concentration, when Selik came in a short time later, rubbing his bare arms briskly against the cold.

“Why is your tongue green?”

She stuck her tongue out farther, showing him the tiny circle still lying there. “I’m sucking on a Lifesaver.”

“Is it medicinal?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “It’s candy. A sweet. Do you want one?”

He looked skeptical but took the yellow one she handed to him. His face lit up with pleasure when he began to chew it, crunching loudly.

“Don’t chew it. You just let it sit on your tongue,” she admonished. “You’re supposed to make it last.”

“I am very good at that,” he boasted, giving her a quick wink. “Making
pleasures
last, that is.”

With a snort of disgust at his inflated ego, she gave him another one, even though it was her favorite color, red. Selik learned quickly and let it rest on his tongue, savoring the sweet flavor. At one point, he stuck his tongue out very far, trying to see if it was red. Satisfied that it was, he insisted on having two more, an orange and a green. She refused to give up another red.

“How many of these lifecircles do you have?”

“Lifesavers,” she corrected with a smile, putting the half-empty roll away. “That is all,” she lied, crossing her fingers behind her back. Why should she share her Tropical Fruits with the brute? Maybe she would give one to Tykir, though.