Viking Ecstasy (14 page)

❧

When Tanaka pulled the curtain aside, moving away from her bow bedroom, intent on getting food for herself and Tabor, she realized that on a boat there could be no secrets. The men, knowing she had made love to Tabor, turned away from her to hide their salacious smirks.

Curt was at the rudder. Sven's blanket bedroll was nearby; he was sleeping after spending the night at the rudder himself. They were Tabor's second- and third-in-command.

The men who were awake moved aside, allowing Tanaka to step toward the stern. It galled her that the men did not look at her, and a blush darkened her cheeks and ears.

Men!
she thought angrily. T
hey complicate my life and cause me trouble!
But there was one man who had indeed caused her trouble but had also taught her the heights of pleasure.
But it's just my body that he pleases,
Tanaka thought in frantic, self-delusion.
I'm not responsible if my body responds to that vicious Viking!

She knew it was a lie, but she clung to it desperately, afraid to ponder for even a second what it would mean if it weren't a lie.

"I need food for myself and Tabor," she said to Carl, with more forcefulness than necessary. She wanted to stop the jokes and snickering. "Will you get it for me?"

Though she phrased it as a question, it was a command, and the instant the words were out of Tanaka's mouth, she knew she had made a grave mistake. A woman slave did not give orders to a Viking man, and the tight-lipped look Carl gave her said her insult would not be forgotten.

"Nay, I will not get your food," Carl said slowly, measuring his words as though it were difficult to control his temper. "I will have another man fill plates for Tabor—" he stared straight into her eyes before adding "—and perhaps there will be enough there for you, as well."

If there had been a general humor when Tanaka had first stepped out from behind the curtain, it had vanished, beneath the tension. As plates were prepared for Tabor and Tanaka, she could almost feel the questions of the men around her. Moments earlier, the men had all wondered whether she was as uninhibited in bed as she sounded. Now they wondered how much influence she had over their leader, whether she was foolish to slight Carl as she had, and whether she knew that sharing a bed with Tabor would protect her from the other crewmen.

When the plates were ready, Tanaka took them to Tabor without a backward glance, hoping that he had not heard the harsh words she'd exchanged with Carl.

"Who's at the rudder?" Tabor asked when Tanaka returned.

He was sitting with his long legs folded comfortably beneath him, a blanket thrown modestly over his lap. He accepted the proffered plate with his right hand but was able to hold it with his left as he ate. Tanaka accepted this as a good sign since it meant he was finally able to use his hand at least a little bit without feeling pain. Of course, with Tabor, such an assumption was only guesswork. He could well be in pain and stubbornly refuse to show it.

"Carl is. He's been sharing the job with Sven."

Tabor nodded approval. "They are both good men. Are we still being followed?"

"I think so, but I can't be certain. I didn't see any boats, but then I didn't really look."

Laughing, Tabor said, "Aye! And that just like a woman! We've had our ranks cut from more than seventy to less than fifteen; we've been chased not only out of our homeland, but out of our home waters as well; we've sailed days and nights without pause —and you forget to check if we're still being followed!" Tabor laughed again, the booming sound full of life.

Sitting upon folded blankets, Tanaka tore into her food, not because she was hungry, but because she was angry with Tabor for laughing at her. She ate in stony silence, knowing that Tabor was anxious to see his comrades, angry that he had not wanted to spend more time talking quietly with her after their lovemaking.

"You can eat at leisure," Tabor said with an attempt at humor that rankled Tanaka. "It's not the last meal you'll get."

"How dare you insult me?" Tanaka snapped, keeping the volume of her voice down but allowing her fury to resonate each word. "How dare you treat me like Fm nothing to you? If it weren't for me, you'd be dead!"

"Don't use that tone of voice with me when—"

"So sure of yourself!" Tanaka hissed, cutting Tabor off, heedless of the danger she was putting herself in, knowing only that she had been slighted by Carl and now by Tabor. She was too proud to accept second-rate status from anyone. "Maybe I am just a woman to you, but if I were just any woman, you'd be dead. Do you hear me? Dead! I changed your bandages so the sickness wouldn't get in your blood! I bathed you in cool water when the fever was upon you and made you burn! And when you shook with the cold, I held you close —as I would a child —to keep you warm!"

The words angered Tabor, not because he did not believe them, but because they were the truth. But what Viking warrior could accept that he had been sickened and needed to be held like "a child"?

"You tell me you are a high priestess, but you have a most unholy tongue and a temper to match!" Tabor whispered, his eyes hard and unblinking. He had been in jubilant spirits moments earlier, but he was worried that his men would hear her cross words. If they did, then he would have to punish her in a way that would show Tanaka—and prove to his men —that he was in charge of this boat and every person upon it. "If you are indeed a high priestess, then I assume you have the wit to understand that people who cross me suffer . . . unpleasantly."

Tanaka knew that Tabor held all the power in his large hands. Denying that would only get her humbled, hurt, or worse. But as long as she was alone with him, she was reasonably confident she could speak her mind without being beaten.

"And as a leader of men, I assume you have the intelligence to know that there is a difference between having the power to punish and having the right to punish." Tanaka rose slowly, sensing that once she finished she would do well to put distance between herself and Tabor. "And at the risk of pointing out the obvious, Ingmar crossed you, but he seems to have suffered only the loss of very many arrows and very few men."

Tanaka relished her victory. Then, sure that she had gone too far, she dropped her plate, tossed the curtain aside, and practically leaped into the center section of the boat.

❧

Ingmar sipped the beer and smiled. It was good to be back home in Kaupang, Norway, where he had been born and spent his early years. Beer tasted the way he wanted it to here; the food was mostly the heavy dumpling-laden stews that he loved, and he was surrounded by people who saw him as a conquering hero instead of a pillaging rapist.

To his left, the young maiden who had been sharing his bed since his return to Norway mended his clothes, adding embroidery to his vest and jackets. He'd stolen the embroidered trim from a boat his crew had overrun on their return from Hedeby. At the far end of the longhouse was another maiden —a young woman who had thus far been able to avoid Ingmar's bed, though it was uncertain how long her luck would continue. Ingmar looked at her. Tonight he would coerce her, resorting to force, if necessary, although experience had taught him to be patient if he wanted more than forced affection. This was especially true with virgins.

While Ingmar pondered whether this virgin was worth his patience, the door opened and his brother Hugh entered the longhouse along with a frosty blast of air. Hugh's face said Tabor was still alive.

"You coward!" Ingmar spat, tossing his drinking horn aside, spraying beer over his mistress, the floor, and the walls. "He's still alive, and you dare return?"

Hugh, shorter, lighter, and not nearly as strong as his older brother, pasted on an angry expression, but the blood drained from his face and his complexion took on a waxy cast. He advanced a single step deeper into the longhouse, remaining close enough to the only door to ensure escape should Ingmar physically vent his anger.

"We chased him for days," Hugh explained, his voice cracking slightly. He hated that he literally quivered in his boots under his brother's rage. "He's out of our waters for good. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I wanted him dead." Ingmar's words indicated that if he did not get what he wanted, there would be more dead than just Tabor. He allowed his gaze to roll slowly from Hugh to his mistress and finally to the virgin maiden, knowing that the effect was chilling. "I do not like it when I am denied the things that please me. You understand that, don't you, Hugh?"

"Of course I understand. I'm your brother." Hugh's cheeks finally took on a bit of color.

"Then why can't you follow the orders that I give you?"

The menace in Ingmar's words shot ice through the veins of everyone in the longhouse. Ingmar, was known to lash out at whoever happened to be closest. No one wanted to suffer for Hugh's failure.

"Well?" Ingmar taunted, wanting to humiliate his brother before the women.

"I. ... I don't know."

"There isn't much that you do know." Ingmar replied. "But I'll tell you this, and you'd better listen carefully because your life depends upon your remembering it." Hugh tried to swallow.

"Someday, Tabor is going to return; and when he does, you're going to kill him. You'll kill him before I even know Tabor is here. You'll do this for me because you know that from this point forward, I hold you responsible for any inconvenience that Dane causes me. Do you understand?"

"Aye," Hugh replied.

"Now get out of my longhouse, and don't set foot in here again while Tabor still lives."

Hugh thought better of protest. He had, till then, stayed in the longhouse with Ingmar. He had always lived with his brother. Now he would have to find a new place, and everyone in Kaupang would know that he had been tossed out by his brother.

Inwardly fuming but outwardly contrite, Hugh vowed that the day would come when he wouldn't have to bow to his brother's wishes.

T
abor could feel his stamina increase with each passing hour, and he welcomed the sensation with open arms because he'd need every ounce of strength he could possess very soon. After the early morning lovemaking with Tanaka and the argument that immediately followed, Tabor at last greeted his men. Their confidence in him, showing clearly on their faces, added to his own inner peace. At one point Tabor took the rudder to guide the boat on its southbound course; but his left arm still was not fully healed, and, rather than draining his tenuous supply of energy and possibly reinjuring his arm, he turned the rudder back to Carl.

An unseasonable cooling breeze from the north had enabled Tabor's men to stay ahead of the two ships that had followed them out of Scandinavian waters, past the shores of England, and into the warmer southern seas. On the day that Tabor resumed the leadership of his men, when the sun shone high in the sky at midday, the breeze that had kept them ahead of the deadly stone-tipped spears of Hugh's Northmen suddenly stopped.

Tabor looked up at the huge square green and white sail of the ship, now hanging limp upon the mast, and hissed a curse to all the gods in all the heavens. With a steady breeze and excellent helmsmanship, his boat had created a gap of nearly three miles from the pursuers. Without the wind, the oars would be needed, and seventy strong men could propel a boat much faster than could thirteen men —and one woman.

"What'll we do?" Carl asked, keeping his voice down as he stood beside Tabor to stare at the lifeless sail.

Tabor said nothing. Though Carl was third in command, the difference between his skills and those of Sven's was enormous. At a time like this, Sven was sage enough to stay at the rudder to make the most use of any breeze that might fill the sails and leave Tabor alone so he could ponder their situation.

When it was clear that no answer was immediately forthcoming, Carl grabbed the hogshead and gulped the inferior wine that had first been stolen by Hugh but was taken in turn by Tabor's men.

Tabor turned northward. In the distance were two specks where once there had been three. The specks were sails coursed by strong and savage men who could kill Tabor and his Viking force. To the east was Spain, unless it was France. They could put in to land, but once there, all travel would be laborious. The sailors would be tired, and there would be no food or water except for what they could steal. The huge armada following them would have a distinct advantage on land. Besides, Tabor admitted, he felt more comfortable and more confident with water— not land —beneath him.

At last Tabor turned his gaze toward Tanaka, who sat near the bow, her legs beneath her, appearing serene Tabor knew better; and when she looked up at the empty sail and then at him, he understood that she had read their situation perfectly. For a few seconds, they studied each other warily over the heads of the men that separated them. She at the bow, he at the stern; there was something suitable about the distance that kept them apart and the circumstances that tied them together.

I cannot think of her now,
Tabor admonished himself, dragging his gaze away from the beautiful Egyptian priestess and her exquisite passion. She could become his obsession if he weren't careful.

He tried to not think of her, but that was impossible. Her presence was with him constantly. The questions she had asked forced Tabor to look within himself for answers. She seemed to know him better than he knew himself and yet she did not understand the Viking ways. Burning with passion, he dreamed of the countless hours he would spend with her in his arms. He would give her pleasure, accepting the pleasure she could provide, and they would take each other to those breathless heights that were as close to Valhalla as a Viking could get without dying.

When Tabor looked again toward the specks in the distance, they had disappeared. They had dropped their sails and were now rowing. Meanwhile, Tabor's own boat was nearly dead in the water, hardly rising and falling with the small ocean waves.

"Ready your weapons, men," Tabor said, almost conversationally.

Tanaka had not been afraid until she watched Tabor's men prepare themselves for a battle they could not win. With grim determination, the men strapped on their helmets and cawls, the leather fighting jackets reinforced with metal plates. They placed their shields nearby and readied their arrows in neat accessible lines. Beside the arrows rested the swords and spears for the worst fighting, after the boat had been forcibly boarded and the battle had progressed to hand-to-hand combat.

She stepped toward one of the younger Vikings. Less hardened, occasionally he had glanced in Tanaka's direction with something akin to affection. Tanaka hoped that he would tell her what the older warriors would not.

"Why aren't we rowing toward land?" she asked in a whisper as the young man strapped a stiff leather gauntlet to his left forearm.

"Tabor would rather fight on the water than on the land."

"What would you rather do?"

It was inconceivable to the boy even to consider going against Tabor's decision. He had, on occasion, doubted the wisdom of Tabor's decisions, but in the long run, Tabor had always been right. Because of this, the boy was more inclined to doubt his own wisdom than Tabor's.

Seeing that she would get nothing of value from the young man, Tanaka ventured toward the stern. Tabor stood with his feet apart in a broad, commanding stance, holding the rudder in his right hand and a long, deadly spear in his left. The bandage around his injured biceps was white, and Tanaka was amazed at his recuperative powers. Unlike all the others on the boat, Tabor had not put on a helmet, leaving his long blond hair to flow down over his broad shoulders.

"When the fighting starts, I want you to take cover beneath the sacks of dried meat," Tabor said when Tanaka approached him. "Their arrows will not go through the sacks, so you will be safe there."

There was only a hint of affection in his tone, but it was enough for Tanaka to know that his outward commanding demeanor did not necessarily mean an inner hardness of heart toward her.

"No, I will stay here with you." Tanaka could feel the eyes of other men upon her and knew that many ears were listening. The two trailing boats were less than a hundred yards away, and the Vikings could also hear the Northmen's chanting as relentlessly, their oars cut into the water, propelling them closer.

"Do as I tell you, woman."

"No."

For a moment Tabor was baffled. He had no experience with opposition, especially not under battle conditions.

"You defy me?"

"Yes, I want to help."

"
You're a woman!'

"Yes, and I still want to help in this fight." She looked from Tabor to Sven and the other men who were close enough to hear. "I have my life to lose, just as you do. But before I lose my life, I could suffer much more than you." Tanaka raised an inquisitive eyebrow, knowing her logic was sound and Tabor could not refuse her. "You are outnumbered, so what difference can it make if the hands that help you belong to a man or a woman?"

As though to underscore the importance of action, the faintest of breezes ruffled the sails and carried with it the rhythmic chant of cold-blooded killers straining hard at their oars, rowing with synchronized strokes for maximum efficiency.

Through clenched teeth Tabor hissed, "You infuriate me, woman!" But behind his anger, showing clear and blue in the depths of his eyes, there was pride in Tanaka. She was showing her courage; and, for a man like Tabor, courage had appeal.

There really wasn't much that anyone could do except pray for wind, which Tanaka, the priestess, did. The Vikings readied their weapons, paying chief attention to their bows and arrows for the first line of fire. Tanaka knew that if the fighting reached the sword and dagger stage, Ingmar's numerical advantage would make short work of Tabor's well-trained warriors.

The chanting continued, becoming louder with each passing second. With each stroke of the oars, the two ships drew closer. Tanaka, kneeling near barrels of drinking water at the middle of the ship, ran a dagger over a sharpening stone. She glanced at the approaching vessels, then up at the sail, which still hung limply on its mast. The ships were close enough now for her to see the men working hard at the oars, pulling in long strokes. Another two minutes and the ships would be upon them.

"Prepare for battle," Tabor cried.

Upon his command, the best archers moved to the bow of the boat, taking with them quivers bulging with arrows. As the best of the best, they had taken arrows from the other men, extending their supply. In the law of battle, skill and competence reigned supreme; ego died quickly.

Tabor stood at the rudder, his left thumb hooked into the wide leather belt that encircled his waist, his blond mantle streaming over his shoulders. Sven knelt at his side, an arrow already notched on his powerful bow. His attention danced between the approaching Northmen and Tabor, waiting for the command to let the first arrow fly. Tanaka was not surprised to find that Sven was one of the elite Viking archers, and she was sure that if Tabor's arm had not been injured, he would be the best.

"At your direction," Tabor said then, his eyes narrowed to slits.

Tanaka's heart skipped a beat as she watched Sven slowly draw the string back, bending the strong, fibrous bow, raising it up high, estimating the angle necessary for maximum distance.

The
twang!
of the arrow's release made Tanaka gasp. All eyes followed the arrow as it arched through the air, becoming little more than a sliver in the distance. The arrow descended fast, and when it struck an oar of the approaching ship, Sven cursed. But though he had missed hitting a man, the other archers had noted what trajectory was necessary.

"Let fly!" Tabor commanded.

For only a second, Tabor and Tanaka looked at each other. He gave her a fleeting smile, one that he did not truly feel, and she smiled back, knowing that he was only trying to still her fears.

He can be a sensitive and caring man,
she thought then.
He doesn't like that part of himself because he doesn't think it is the way a Viking warrior should be, but it's there nevertheless.