Timeless (38 page)

Startled, Hauk looked past Thorolf—to see Avril clinging to the railing at the bow of the ship, her eyes on Hauk’s wounded arm. “Hauk—”

“Avril, nay!”

It was too late. Thorolf whirled toward her, sputtering enraged curses.

She screamed and started to drop back into the water, but Thorolf was faster. He lunged down and caught her, hauling her onto the deck. Yanking her in front of him, he turned to face Hauk. “Now,
vokter
,” he snarled, “let us talk about whether I am free to go.”

Hauk jumped to his feet and grabbed the sword he had dropped, the pain in his arm forgotten.

“
Nei
, drop the weapon!” Thorolf demanded.

“Release her first—”

“Drop the weapon,” Thorolf repeated, keeping one arm around Avril’s throat and the other around her waist as she struggled and kicked. “And tell her not to try any tricks! Her friend taught me a lesson earlier. I will not be fooled—”

Avril—clearly unable to understand what Thorolf was saying in Norse—fastened her teeth on his arm and bit him.

Cursing, Thorolf snatched his arm from around her neck. But just long enough to reach behind him and yank her knife from his shoulder, gritting his teeth. He pressed the bloody edge against Avril’s throat, and she gasped and went still.

“Tell her, Valbrand!” Thorolf’s lips curled back from his teeth. “And put the sword down. They are pitifully fragile, these
utlending
. A single flick of this blade and she is dead.”

Hauk met Avril’s terrified gaze, his heart slamming against his ribs. He had no doubt Thorolf would do as he threatened.

“Avril, listen to me.” He fought to keep his tone even, setting the weapon on the deck. “I want you to remain very still—”

“Hauk, I—”

“Do not try to get free,” he ordered urgently. “If you try to use any tricks, he is going to hurt you.”

She nodded and remained frozen. Hauk felt his gut clench at the way she was trembling in Thorolf’s hold.

“Very good,” Thorolf said more coolly in Norse, keeping the blade at her throat. “But I warn you, take one step toward me and she dies.”

Hauk pressed his hand over the wound in his arm, trying to staunch the flow of blood, to ignore the pain. “Let her go.” He fastened his gaze on Thorolf’s black eyes. “Release her and you can have the boat. Go wherever you want and die and be damned.”

“I do not think so. I have a much better plan in mind.” Thorolf jerked his head toward the rudder. “First you will repair the damage you caused,
vokter
. And then you can sail this ship safely out of Asgard waters.” He smiled. “In truth, I find this a most satisfying turn of events. You, who have always thwarted me, will now help set me free.”

“You will only be free for six days—and then you will be dead.”

“There you are wrong.” Thorolf chuckled. “Fix the rudder and I will show you what I mean.” He dug the knife into Avril’s skin. “Or you can refuse—and lose another wife.”

Hauk clenched his fists, murderous rage and helpless frustration roiling inside him. He had no choice. Keeping his gaze on Thorolf, he moved back into the stern and dragged the trailing rudder up from the water, lashing it back into place.

“Very wise of you,
vokter
. Now take the tiller. You know the safest way through the rocks on this part of the coast better than I.” Thorolf took up a position beside the mast, forcing Avril with him. “And I suggest you keep the ship steady. Any sudden movement and your pretty bride might be damaged.”

Hauk did as he said, his gaze on Avril. Her cheeks were pale, her eyes full of fear—and apology. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, both forgiving her and begging her not to make any move that Thorolf might find threatening.

Standing at the tiller, the deep cut in his arm throbbing painfully, Hauk guided the
knorr
through the moonlit darkness. He knew that he dared not give in to any of the dangerous ideas simmering in his head.

If he were alone with Thorolf, he would not hesitate to purposely slam the ship into one of the towering pillars of rock that loomed out of the fog.

But he would not endanger Avril.

He carefully navigated toward the safest passage he knew, between two of the ancient, massive stones. The
knorr
responded as he had known it would, gliding over the water as straight and fast as a seabird.

The night wind quickly carried them beyond Asgard’s boundary.

And into the open ocean.

“You have what you wanted,” Hauk ground out. “Now release her. If you wish to commit suicide rather than face the
eldrer
—”

“The
eldrer
no longer hold any power over me.” A grin split Thorolf’s face. “Any more than you or those lackwits who
almost
managed to take me back to town earlier.”

“What did you do to them?” Hauk demanded, his attention shifting back to Avril.

She was shivering as the cold wind cut through her wet garments. Hauk struggled to think of some way to get her safely out of Thorolf’s grasp.

“Those young fools are better suited to being merchants and craftsmen than warriors,” Thorolf said scornfully. “They are far too compassionate and soft-hearted. When they stopped to rest on the far side of the forest, I complained that they had made my bonds too painful. They loosened them to ease my suffering, and I rather quickly had my hands on a weapon.” He shrugged. “Three of them should be awakening from
langvarig sovn
about now. The other two gave chase, but I managed to elude them, eventually.”

Hauk grimaced. “And when you returned to the cove,” he asked, not certain he wanted to hear the answer, “what did you do to Keldan and his wife?”

“I left them asleep on the shore,” Thorolf bit out. “All I wanted was the boat. All I wanted was to leave. If you had not interfered, as you always do—” Anger darkened his expression for a moment, before he continued with a careless shrug. “In truth, I have done that whelp of a carpenter a favor. His wife is one of us now.” He smiled. “I made her
innfodt
. She cannot die.”

Hauk choked out a wordless exclamation. “You are insane.”

“
Nei
, I am free. I have discovered the secret. Asgard’s secret.” Thorolf’s smile widened.

Hauk stared at him in disbelief.

“Hauk,” Avril called to him, reclaiming his attention. “I could pretend to faint, and then I might be able to—”

“Avril, nay,” Hauk said in French, fixing her with a stern look. “Remain still. Do not even—”

“What are you saying to her?” Thorolf demanded, pressing the knife against her throat to silence her.

“I am only telling her not to move,” Hauk insisted, his heartbeat loud in his ears, his wounded arm stabbing with pain as his fingers gripped the tiller. He tried to think. Discarded one desperate plan after another. “What in the name of all the sons of Odin makes you believe you have discovered Asgard’s secret? It cannot be done. For six hundred years our people have tried—”

“And your father almost succeeded. That is the tragedy, is it not? He came so close, only to fail.” A satisfied expression stole across Thorolf’s blunt features. “After your uncle so heedlessly destroyed your father’s workshop, I sifted through what was left—and found enough remnants of his notes to start my own experiments. It has taken me
centuries
to re-create his work, to refine and distill various combinations of plants and minerals and water. To test my potions without arousing suspicion.”

Hauk swore, sickened that his father’s work had led to more suffering and death. “How many people have you killed?”

“Only a few
utlending
women.” Thorolf shrugged. “I am afraid that none of my wives over the years met a natural end. And a few other carefully chosen females had to be sacrificed, as well. A missing
innfodt
would have attracted too much attention and a great many questions, but what is one
utlending
more or less?” He kept the blade at Avril’s throat. “There are far too many of them in the world as it is. And they are inferior to us.” He stroked his hand down her arm. “Fragile, pitiful creatures.”

Avril cringed and Hauk ruthlessly subdued the rage that shot through him, the protective urge that made him want to cross the deck and fasten his hands around Thorolf’s throat. “And what makes you think you have succeeded?” he challenged, trying to direct the whoreson’s attention away from Avril.

“I know I have succeeded. I discovered your father’s error—the elixir must not be stored in flasks of leather or wood or any material native to Asgard, for that renders it unstable. It must be kept in glass.” Thorolf withdrew a small, crystalline flask from a pouch at his waist. “Like this.”

Hauk stared at the ruby-colored liquid in the vial. It could be wine. He could be bluffing.

Or it might be true.

“If you are so confident,” he said with a growl, “then drink it.”

“I already have, hours ago. After I tested it on Keldan’s bride. I choked her and she spent hours in
langvarig sovn
,” Thorolf said triumphantly, clearly savoring the memory. “And then she awakened.”

Astonishment stole Hauk’s voice.

“I had more of the elixir, much more,” Thorolf continued, his look of pleasure dissolving. “But it is lost to me now. This is all that remains.”

“Hauk,” Avril said quietly, “what are we going to—”

“Avril, it will be all right,” he assured her in French. “I will think of something. Do not—”

“Cease.” Thorolf snarled. “What are you saying to her?”

“Turn the ship into the wind,” Avril suggested quickly.

He flashed her an anguished look. If the sail came around unexpectedly, it would knock Thorolf off his feet—but she might get her throat cut. “It will not work, little Valkyrie.”

“Cease!” Thorolf demanded, his hold on Avril tightening.

“She is afraid,” Hauk told him angrily. “I am trying to reassure her.”

Thorolf chuckled. “You are a fool, Valbrand.” He pressed the point of the blade against the tender underside of her chin, forcing her head up. “Why does she matter so much to you? I have never understood why so many of our kind care for these fragile, short-lived females.”

Avril shut her eyes with a muted sound of distress, clearly terrified. Hauk did not reply to Thorolf’s jibes, pain wrenching through his chest, sharper than the burning in his arm.

Chuckling, Thorolf lifted the glass vial he held, examining the sparkling red liquid in the moonlight. “Mayhap you would like to have this for yourself,
vokter
?” he taunted, extending the crystalline flask toward Hauk. “Think of it. You would be free to live with her in the outside world. To go wherever you wish.” He withdrew his hand, waving the vial in front of Avril’s face. “Or, if I chose, I could make her one of us. Ah, you would like that, would you not? To keep your wife with you forever?”

Hauk bit back a curse. “Even if your potion worked to make Josette
innfodt
, you cannot be certain it will work on you. The
utlending
are different from us—”

“Indeed they are. And in truth, I was not certain.” Thorolf looked back at the island, now barely visible in the distance, then he glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

He turned just enough to show Hauk. “But it does seem to be working, does it not?”

Hauk felt his heart slam against his ribs. The deep blade-cut in Thorolf’s shoulder had already closed. And the mark where Avril had bitten his arm had vanished. Thorolf’s wounds were healing.

Hauk’s were not.

“
Ja
, Valbrand, it does seem to be working,” Thorolf repeated with a smug expression. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you decided to try and stop me one last time. Now I shall not only be free, and a wealthy man—when I sell this elixir to whichever kings or princes are willing to pay my price—but I shall also have the pleasure of watching you die.”

Hauk cursed him. “Six days is a long time,” he spat. “I will kill you before—”

“
Nei
, you will not. You cannot.” Thorolf returned the vial to the pouch at his waist, chuckling. Fearless. “Mayhap, after you are dead, I will make your lovely bride immortal and keep her with me forever.” He drew the knife slowly down Avril’s throat, down the front of her tunic, between her breasts. “Imagine it,
vokter
—your wife, in my bed. Night after night, for all eternity.”

Hauk snarled an oath.

“
Ja
, it is a most pleasant thought,” Thorolf mused. “Mayhap I will even take her
before
you die.” He caught the front of Avril’s tunic on the tip of the blade, slicing it open. “So that you may watch.”

Avril uttered a strangled sound, eyes wide with terror. A white-hot fury descended on Hauk. He was not about to let Thorolf make good on his threats.

And the knife was at last away from her throat.

“Avril, get ready to break free of him.”

“
Aye
.”

“What are you saying now?” Thorolf asked mockingly. “Telling her farewell already?”

“
Nei
.” Without warning, Hauk pushed the tiller all the way to starboard, turning the ship abruptly, sharply. Thorolf lost his balance and Avril pushed free of his grasp, diving toward the deck as the sail came around and knocked Thorolf off his feet.

Hauk launched himself forward. Thorolf was already getting up, bellowing with rage. Avril scrambled out of the way as Hauk slammed into him. He heard her frightened cry as they fell to the deck, grappling, landing brutal, pounding blows with their fists.

The
knorr
plunged over the waves at the mercy of the wind and current. With no one controlling the rudder, it pitched and rolled dangerously, threatening to tip onto its side.

“Avril, the tiller!” Hauk shouted.

He glimpsed her rushing toward the stern, out of harm’s way, just as Thorolf struck him in his wounded arm. Pain exploded through his shoulder. His hand, his arm, tingled and went numb.

He rolled sideways to avoid a second hit to his injured limb and lurched to his feet, barely avoiding the ship’s boom as it swung around. He looked for one of the blades they had used. Found none on the deck.

Thorolf closed in on him, black eyes glittering. Hauk managed to strike one blow with his good arm before Thorolf knocked him backward into the bulwark.