Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 02] (32 page)

“Nay, you would not dare do such again. I forbid it.”

“Not even if I captured you so I could have my way with your body?” she asked, slanting a look of exaggerated sultriness at him.

“Well, mayhap,” he conceded with a grin.

Just before they entered the side door of the hospitium, Rain put a hand on his sleeve to halt his progress, and said nervously, “Before we go inside, there’s a little something I need to tell you.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Whenever Rain used that tone of voice and mentioned “a little something,” it usually meant she wanted a favor, or he was not going to like what she said.

“Bernie has the hots for me,” she said, blushing.

At first, his mouth dropped open. He snapped it shut with a grunt of disgust. Truly, the wench had a knack for surprising him. “I think I can guess what ‘the hots’ are,” he remarked when he finally got his amazement under control, “but who in the name of Thor is Bernie?”

“Oh, you remember Father Bernard—the young priest we met that first day, the one with acne—zits—all over his face.”

“And you have become so familiar you call him Bernie?”

“Not familiar, really. He’s so young. I just humor his crush, but I don’t want you to get upset if you notice him putting the make on me.”

“Rain, I have no idea in the world what you just said. But if he dares to lay one finger on you, I will knock his rotten teeth down to his toes.”

She started to protest, but Selik pushed her through the doorway and gave her waist a proprietary squeeze. Unfortunately, Father Bernard was standing there, ready to greet the target of his ‘hots’, with wounded eyes riveted on Selik’s intimately placed hand. With deliberate deviltry, Selik looked the monk straight in the eye and spread his
palm, moving lower to Rain’s right buttock, which he grasped suggestively.

Rain jumped and turned on him.

He told her baldly, “Begging your pardon, Brother Godwine. I was reaching for the door handle.”

Rain was not fooled one bit by his fake innocence, although Father Bernard accepted Selik’s explanation. The first chance she got, she hissed at Selik, “Door handle? Hah! How would you like it if I grabbed
your
handle?”

“I would like it fine,” he said with a wink. “In fact, you may pump my handle any time you like.”

“Tsk! Behave yourself, Selik, or I’ll never get anything done here today.” In her assumed husky voice, she said, “Father Bernard, you remember Brother Ethelwolf, don’t you?”

Unaware of their whispered exchange, the young priest ignored Selik and turned to Rain. “You have not been here for days,” he complained. “Father Theodric has been asking for you. Did you not promise to discuss brain fevers with him?”

“Yes, but I’ve been busy at the orphanage and couldn’t come ’til now.” Rain tried hard to keep her voice low and husky to hide her sex.

“That orphanage! Why do you waste your talents with the filthy Danes? They are naught but little heathens,” he whined, and Rain felt Selik stiffen behind her. She pinched his arm in warning.

“They are God’s children, Father,” she chastised the young priest, “no matter their origins.”

“Well, I still say ye should reside at the minster. We could always find a place for you to sleep.”

“I wager he could,” Selik whispered near her ear. “Under his scrawny body.”

She flashed Selik an admonishing look, afraid he would betray their disguises.

“Brother Godwine! Brother Godwine!” Father Rupert called out to Rain. When they approached
the pallet where he knelt, she saw that the deathly ill girl was now sitting up.

Father Rupert beamed at Rain. “You were right. A change in diet was all Alise needed. Her father will be corning to take her home today.”

Rain knelt beside Father Rupert and examined the girl she’d diagnosed with Celiac disease her first day at the hospitium. Alise was still far too thin, but with care, she would recover with no ill effects. “Now you do understand, Alise, that you cannot ever, for the rest of your life, eat grains again? Even one bite of bread could set your disease off again.”

“Will I ne’er get better?” the little girl asked tearfully.

Rain shook her head. “But isn’t it a small price to pay for feeling well again?”

Alise nodded, and Rain told Father Rupert to make sure the girl’s father understood the disease and the importance of a strict diet.

For hours, she worked side by side with the culdees, examining the patients, listening carefully to their diagnoses and remedies, many of which came from the revered Bald’s
Leechbook
prepared about twenty-five years earlier. Surprisingly, many of the recipes they followed proved effective, even by modern standards, especially the herbal ones. Rue was used as a capillary anti-hemorrhage agent. Henbane, known to modern doctors for its properties in blocking nerve fibers and as a hypnotic, induced sleep. Pennyroyal settled the stomach. Woodruff and brooklime, both rich in tannin, relieved burns when applied in butter with the root of a lily.

Her biggest complaint was against the widespread practice of bleeding for almost every ailment. But she followed Selik’s advice on observing, offering minor advice, but doing nothing to call attention to herself as a modern physician.

Occasionally, she even forgot that Selik accompanied her and would look up suddenly to see him leaning lazily against the wall, his finely honed Viking body a spectacular picture, even in a monk’s garb. How could anyone miss his beautifully sculpted face, his gracefully long fingers, his beautiful smile?

“What is that wonderful scent?” Father Bernard asked suddenly, sniffing near her cowl.

“’Tis Brother Godwine’s Passion,” Selik answered devilishly as he took her arm and moved her down the aisle.

Father Bernard just gaped after them, stuttering, “His…his…did you say passion?” He practically drooled.

Finally, disgusted with Selik’s snide remarks, Father Bernard commented testily under his breath, “Why does the big lump not get down on his knees and help, instead of standing around idly?”

But Selik overheard him and commented boldly, “I am observing,
Bernie
, for our book.”

Father Bernard’s face colored, highlighting the pus-filled pimples that dotted his face. “Methinks Father Ethelwolf’s arrogance is unseemly for a priest,” he complained to Rain. “And frankly, it appears to me he is observing more than he should.”

Rain looked up then and noticed, just as Father Bernard had, that Selik’s appreciative eyes were fastened on her posterior as she bent over to pick up a wad of linen.

She hissed to get Selik’s attention, but instead of being embarrassed at being caught in the act, he winked.
He winked
. She heard Father Bernard make a low, strangling sound, and Rain realized she had to get Selik out of there before he gave them both away.

“We’ve got to go, Father Ethelwolf,” Rain announced suddenly, pulling on Selik’s sleeve. “I
just remembered that we must stop at the mercer’s to purchase more cloth for the children’s tunics.”

“Oh, but you cannot leave yet,” Father Bernard protested. “Father Theodric will be here shortly.”

That was just what Rain was afraid of, especially with Selik being so blatant in his attraction toward her. The highly intelligent Father Theodric saw too much. Already he raised questions she couldn’t answer about healers in Frankland whose names she didn’t recognize, about how she’d gained her vast medical knowledge, and even about her feminine characteristics.

“You must pray that God will help you control your baser instincts,” he’d told her once after she shrieked girlishly when a mouse darted over her foot in the minster herbarium. He referred to what he must consider her effeminate nature. If he saw her with Selik, the sexual chemistry that sizzled between them whenever they moved within looking distance would undoubtedly cement the idea in his head.

“Tell Father Theodric that I will see him tomorrow, and we can discuss brain fevers and the vaccinations I mentioned to him. I will have plenty of time, since Father Ethelwolf will be unable to accompany me.”

“Huh?” Selik asked, looking up from the bag of food he was examining near the door. “Why will I be unable to come with you?”

“You will be transcribing all your mental notes onto parchment. For our book. Remember?”

He waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Ah, I can do that anytime. We will discuss that later.” He turned then to Father Bernard. “But now I want to know who is responsible for the pig swill you have been giving Brother Godwine as his
laece-feoh
—the physician’s fee?”

Rain turned to Selik with surprise. She hadn’t realized that he knew about the rotting food the priests sent for the orphans.

Father Bernard’s face turned bright red. “’Tis not a physician’s fee, just a gift, a favor from the minister to the orphans.”

“Are you saying,
Bernie
, that Brother Godwine’s healing skills have no value?”

“Nay, I ne’er said such. But well, ’tis good enough for the scurvy lot,” he mumbled defensively, pointing to the food. “Leastways, ’tis the same food we priests eat each day.”

“Ah, then that is different,” Selik said with a resignation Rain knew was false. “You will not mind then having a bite of this.” He reached in the cloth bag and pulled out a hunk of pork that smelled to high heaven.

Father Bernard backed away but Selik followed, pushing the putrid meat in his face, against his lips.

“Selik,” Rain protested, pleased that he defended her, but afraid he would attract undue attention.

Selik ignored her pulling hands and told Father Bernard icily, “Do not ever dare to give Brother Godwine such spoiled food again. Dump this in the cess pit. ’Tis not good enough for the dogs in the street.”

He shoved away from the shaking priest angrily and grabbed Rain’s arm, pulling her through the door.

“Selik, we have to bring food back for the children. I’m sure I would have been able to salvage some good things from that bag.”

“Nay, you will not. You need not beggar yourself by accepting charity from such tight-fisted clerics. I will buy all that you need.”

And, much to the delight of the Jorvik merchants, he did. In the end, he hired a wagon to cart all their
goods back to the farmstead—fresh beef, ten live laying chickens, a milk cow, raw vegetables, crisp apples, mead, honey and flour.

“Selik, people are going to wonder where a monk got so much money,” she whispered worriedly as he once again pulled out his pouch of coins at a merchant’s stand.

He responded by telling her, loud enough for the merchant to overhear, “Brother Godwine, are you truly sorry that I stole the bishop’s hoard he was saving for a new jeweled chalice?” When she eyed him warily, he went on. “Even you must admit, the orphans cannot eat gold and garnets.”

The merchant muttered under his breath in agreement, “Bloody priests! Care more fer jewels than the poor.” To show his support, he threw in a couple of extra loaves of bread.

“See. I have some uses,” Selik boasted as they headed toward Ella’s shop.

Rain couldn’t help but smile then, and Selik smiled back at her in all his glorious beauty. Her heart filled with all the love she felt for him. She wanted to say so many things to him, but didn’t know how. So many feelings blossomed within her. She wanted to shout to the world her wondrous love for this man, and to hug it to herself in secret savoring. This was the love of a lifetime—a thousand lifetimes!

Was this why she had been sent back in time? She had thought she was sent to save Selik, but maybe this love was just a gift from God. If so, how was she to help Selik?

Love
.

Rain cringed at the return of the voice in her head.
Love? That’s all? How can love save Selik?

Love begets love, child. Love begets love
.

Rain groaned aloud.

“You have that look on your face again, sweetling, and you are muttering. Talking to God, are you?”

Rain shot a look of disgust at Selik and his too perceptive observation. “Yeah, and he sent a message for you.”

“Oh, really!” Selik laughed. “Do not tell me that Ubbi and I are both blessed with these miraculous messages of yours.”

“Don’t be so sarcastic.”

They had almost reached Ella’s shop, and Selik was about to open the side door when he asked, “So, what was the message? Does he want me to do penance for plowing the virgin fields of one of his angels?”

Rain shook her head as if he was beyond hope.

“What God said, honey, was, ‘Tell that bad boy, Selik, to hold on to the seat of his pants because I’m sending the love boat his way.’”

Selik burst out laughing and put an arm around her shoulders, hugging her warmly against his side. Rain couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around his waist and joining in his laughter.

When they both turned forward, Ella and all the workers in her shop were staring at them with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

“The priests are huggin’ each other. Oh, holy Lord!” one freckle-faced young woman exclaimed, making the sign of the cross.

“Gawd! No doubt, the Almighty will send a pestilence down on this shop fer harborin’ such doin’s,” another woman exclaimed. “Frogs, no doubt. The Lord has a partiality to frogs fer punishment, I hear tell.”

“I will have no such perversions in me shop,” Ella declared vehemently, advancing on them with a broom in hand. It was only as she got closer that Rain saw the recognition in her eyes. She was putting on a show for her workers. “Come into me side room and tell me yer bizness. Then begone with ye—ye sodomites.”

When she closed the door behind them in her primitive “office”, she turned on them angrily. “Are ye daft? Do ye want to put me out of bizness? If the townsfolk hear I condone such depravities, they will shun me like maggots on a Yule pudding.”

Selik pushed the hood down off his head and sat on a high stool, grinning at Ella.

“Do not think ye can turn me with one of yer winsome smiles,” Ella grumbled. “I am well past the age fer carin’ whether a man be bow-legged or ungodly handsome.”

“Ungodly handsome, am I?” Selik asked, fluttering his long eyelashes at her.