Viking Ecstasy (22 page)

❧

"I was dismissed," Kahlid fumed, pacing back and forth. His hands were again balled into angry fists. The cords in his neck stood out with the strain of controlling his volatile emotions, and his face was crimson. "Dismissed! Like I was nothing more than a servant!"

Lysetta decided it was best not to mention that as palace priest, he was just a servant. She sipped her wine. Never had she seen Kahlid so angry, although Kahlid's anger had been erupting quite regularly since the return of High Priestess Tanaka.

At first Lysetta had fretted over Kahlid when he got this way; then she would become frightened of him, thinking he would again strike out at her; now, she just waited until he'd finished his tirade and received his sexual release by thrusting himself inside her. Then he would calm down and they would be able to talk rationally about the problem that Tanaka represented.

"Dismissed!" Kahlid continued, his robes fluttering against his thighs as he strode back and forth across the length of his chambers. "Never in my life has anyone dared to dismiss me!"

Someone has now!
Lysetta thought with a certain amount of glee, even though she liked Kahlid as much as she was capable of liking anyone but herself.

She turned her face away so that Kahlid would not see the smile that pulled at her mouth and brought a brightness to her dark eyes. She realized then that, to at least some extent, she hated her lover.

It was only through Kahlid that she would be able to have the real wealth and power that she hungered for, so she was willing to sleep with him and give him pleasure and release. Sometimes, she even enjoyed the encounters. But she had noticed recently that being with Kahlid and letting him touch her wasn't as much fun as it once had been.

"It's that pale-skinned Viking!" Kahlid continued, oblivious to Lysetta's smile, too concerned with his own emotions to worry about hers. "He's the one who has caused all this. If not for him, Moamin would never have dared dismiss me. They're becoming friends, I tell you, and that will never do!"

"And why is that?" Lysetta asked, her tone cool and modulated, neither disrespectful nor obtuse.

"Because the only person Moamin should trust is me! All my plans hinge upon Moamin trusting me, and he can't trust me if he trusts someone else!"

"Someone like Tanaka?"

"Tanaka's not much of a problem, really. She's a woman."

Lysetta bristled. Though Lysetta had always intended to ride with Kahlid to the top, perhaps she could take the power in her own hands.

"What's the Viking's name?" he asked, at last actually stopping his pacing long enough to look directly at Lysetta.

"Tabor." She had heard that the full name was Tabor, Son of Thor and that it had something to do with his sexual prowess, but Lysetta kept that information to herself. She did not want to antagonize a man who did not yet realize she saw him as an enemy, an obstacle to her dreams.

"Tabor? Strange name, that. Just proves how backward he really is."

Lysetta thought of commenting on how far Tabor and his men sailed — drastically undermanned — to reach Egypt. Such an accomplishment could never be achieved by someone "backward," but she kept that opinion to herself, too.

"The first thing we'll have to do is rid ourselves of Tabor," Kahlid continued, his gaze distant and unfocused once again as he planned aloud his ascension to power. "He's not a man I want to have to deal with later."

Lysetta thought,
Meaning you don't want to look over your shoulder to find he's after you.
But even before she could agree with Kahlid's decision, a libidinous voice whispered inside her head, promising passion in the arms of the golden-haired Viking.

"I think it would be a mistake to kill Tabor too soon," she said, unable to stop the desire-driven words. She pretended not to see the angry look that Kahlid shot at her. "We might be able to blame many bad things upon him later. A lot of people are going to die, Kahlid, and it is going to be easier with the palace workers and villagers if we have someone to blame the deaths on."

She saw Kahlid's features softening and knew that she had struck a responsive chord.

"If we can blame Tanaka's murder upon Tabor, and maybe even Moamin's, then surely there could be no uprising against you, the only spiritual leader remaining. The soldiers here in the palace and at the outposts will follow your strong leadership, but only if they do not believe that you are responsible for the death of Tanaka. She is loved by all!"

Lysetta bit her tongue after the last sentence. It was true that the people all loved Tanaka, and many of them were openly suspicious of Kahlid. That had long infuriated him.

"What could be better than blaming all the killing upon Tabor and his men?" Lysetta continued, not wanting to give Kahlid time to think about her faux pas. "The soldiers will do all the killing on their own . . . with direction from you at the appropriate time, of course."

"Of course," Kahlid said. He nodded approval. He liked Lysetta's plan. "I had just planned on disgracing Tanaka and through that taking her place . . . but murder . . . murder . . . and if I could prove that I had nothing to do with Moamin's death . . . even Neenah's death . . ."

"Now all we have to do is determine how to blame Tabor and his men for the murders," Lysetta said, but her mind stayed with Tabor and what he had looked like when she saw him in the bath. Before she saw him executed, she wanted to find out if he was really as exciting a lover as his body promised.

❧

Tanaka reclined on the mound of pillows, and one of her servants placed a pillow beneath her knees. Tanaka had missed these luxuries when she had been aboard the longboat with Tabor and his men. She enjoyed the personal servants who gave her backrubs and massaged the muscles in her arms and legs, and she especially enjoyed having delicious, familiar food to eat again. Though her appetite was nothing compared to Tabor's, Tanaka had especially missed the goat cheese and the breads.

"You asked me to remind you of the meeting with the pharaoh," a young servant said, keeping her voice low so that she would not intrude on Tanaka's concentration. "It was to take place when the sun crossed the sky."

Responsibility . . . that was the price of luxury. The high priestess for Pharaoh Moamin Abbakka must always be available for those in need of spiritual guidance or supervision.

"Have we displeased you?" another servant asked, her expression showing that she would rather walk through the gates of darkness than displease the high priestess.

"No, you have been perfect," Tanaka replied warmly. "I sighed because the time that I have spent in this room has come and gone so quickly." Tanaka looked around her own bedroom, now crowded with servants, and wondered what Tabor would think of her living quarters. That thought brought a smile to her lips, and she heard a collective sigh as the servants all relaxed.

"Please leave me for a moment," Tanaka said, needing just a few minutes to herself so that she could daydream without worrying that one of her servants was reading her mind. "Only for a little while, then please return to help me prepare for my meeting with the pharaoh."

The servants left quickly, clearly pleased that Tanaka had requested their return. If any of them should displease Tanaka in any way and if the pharaoh should hear about it, the punishment would be severe. The pharaoh had decreed that the high priestess's life be devoid of unpleasantness.

When she was alone at last, Tanaka closed her eyes, and in her mind's eye, she was able to see Tabor as clearly as if he were standing in front of her. She could see his eyes, dark blue and intense with passion, looking at her, seeing straight into her soul. She could see, too, his love for her shining in those eyes.

Tanaka sighed. This was neither the time nor the place for such wistful dreaming. She would soon be required to use all her powers of concentration and spirituality to assist Pharaoh Abbakka on whatever decisions he had to make; and after that, she was expected to meet with several groups of young people who wished to be married and had yet to go through the soul-cleansing process, a prerequisite for the ceremony. When she was finished, even if she wanted to and had the energy left for it, she could not invite Tabor to her bedchambers. To have a man in the quarters of the high priestess was a breach of propriety that Tanaka dared not contemplate, no matter how dearly she wished to feel Tabor's strong, gentle arms surrounding her.

With her eyes still closed, Tanaka shifted positions on the pillows, moving slightly. She felt a twinge of pain down low. A pain that brought a smile to her lips —a smile that would have shocked the servants if they'd still been in the room. She was sore from the vigorous lovemaking with Tabor. She had told him he'd need all his strength to satisfy her, and Tabor had taken her challenge to heart. He gave her all the strength he had, throwing his heart and soul and every ounce of passionate energy he possessed into their lovemaking until his body was bathed in sweat.

How many times had he brought her to that mysterious land where her body burned white-hot and the explosions of desire scorched her every sense? Four times? Hadn't he tried to bring her to a fifth when Tanaka at last cried out that she could take no more?

Another soft sigh escaped Tanaka's lips as she thought about the blissful lovemaking. It had truly been special, and she felt more confident now that she had proven to herself and to Tabor that his desire for her burned no hotter than hers for him.

Lysetta now seemed much less a threat to Tanaka's happiness with Tabor.

When she realized that Lysetta, in a way, was responsible for helping her to shed the last of her inhibitions, Tanaka chuckled softly. She heard a murmur of voices, then realized that her servants were peeking into the quarters. They had heard her private laughter, and no doubt they wondered what had brought such levity to her soul. Dare she tell them? Sadly, Tanaka realized that, at least for the present, she had to keep her love for Tabor a secret. Perhaps there would come a day when she would not have to hide her feelings for him. But for now —at least until she became thoroughly resettled back in the palace of Pharaoh Moamin Abbakka, it was best she keep her feelings —for everyone —to herself.

"Please return!" Tanaka then called out, pushing herself up from the mound of pillows. "It is time for me to prepare to counsel the pharaoh!"

The servants rushed into the huge room, all of them talking at once, each wanting to be the one to receive the high priestess's complete, undivided attention.

T
abor leaned back against the wooden railing that surrounded the dock, and though his eyes took in the ship the carpenters were building, his mind was on other matters.

It had been well over a week since his arrival on the Egyptian shores; and aside from the first days, when he had shared his passion and joy with Tanaka, he had hardly seen her. To make matters worse, Tabor was discovering that his grasp of the Egyptian language wasn't as solid as he had thought. Though he understood Tanaka well enough, whenever anyone else talked to him, there was much he did not understand. Sometimes, when he had talked with Kahlid, he got the feeling that the priest was belittling him, even patronizing him.

Tabor didn't like feeling cast aside. It made him feel small. Here, he was an oddity. In his homeland, he was a leader of men. But here, his men seemed far more interested in the available Egyptian women than in learning the Egyptian method of shipbuilding.

So Tabor spent most of his time alone or struggling with shipbuilders. Sometimes, he sensed that men were watching him. Tabor had long ago learned to trust gut feelings. He hadn't lived this long with enemies like Ingmar the Savage by not heeding instinct, especially forebodings of danger.

As Tabor pushed to his feet, intent on returning to his living quarters, he decided to tell Tanaka of his worries and suspicions. This time, he would be forceful and make her listen. The last time he'd broached the subject, she'd laughed, dismissing his fears as the product of a man unaccustomed to life in Egypt.

As he made his way toward land, Tabor heard a sailor call out to him, asking him where he was going. Tabor did not reply or react to the question. He was tired of being looked upon as an idiosyncracy among these short, swarthy people, and he wanted his own clothes back. These silk robes might well be the height of fashion here, but they looked more like women's wear than anything a Viking would choose.

As he made his way through the village streets, Tabor was once again aware of how much taller he was than the Egyptians. His long blond hair, flowing over his shoulders in glowing waves, defined him as a foreigner as much as his broad shoulders and his piercing blue eyes.

He thought then that without having Tanaka at his side he felt even more the outsider. He recalled how, when Tanaka had spent time with him, he had delighted in learning about her culture and ways of doing things. Without her, Egypt was just a land filled with people he did not understand or care to.

Could it be that he, Tabor, Son of Thor, had fallen in love with the Egyptian high priestess? And could it be that she did not love him?

He growled then, a low, deep growl that rumbled out of his massive chest. It was a sound born of frustration and disillusionment, and the animal-threat sound of it caused villagers to part wide to facilitate Tabor's passing.

Tabor was not the type of man who spent hours pondering whether he loved a woman or not. He was a nomadic Viking, a man who found pleasure and companionship wherever it was to be found; and when he sailed on again, he left behind memories, but he kept none for himself. That was his image of himself.

But Tabor refused to delude himself. He could not accept the lie. Tanaka wasn't just someone he had slept with. She wasn't a sexual conquest who had been entertaining but was no longer relevant.

"Stop thinking about her," Tabor said aloud in his native tongue. He enjoyed the taste of his own language, which he only spoke when he was with his men or with Tanaka.

He decided then, as he hurried through the village, taking long steps that would have forced a smaller man to run to keep up with him, to spend more time with his men. Granted, Sven, Carl, and the others were a poor substitute for Tanaka, but they understood Tabor and accepted him as their leader. At least in their company, Tabor knew he was surrounded by friends.

The length of his stride, the faraway look in his eyes, and the hard set of his jaw frightened the villagers as Tabor made his way back to the palace from the seaside. He hardly noticed how the people moved aside well in advance of him, and he did not pay any attention to the hushed sigh of relief when he passed without venting his anger upon them.

Tabor was so intent on his thoughts that he did not notice that he was being followed by a small man with intelligent eyes, a devious mind, and a very sharp dagger.