Viking Ecstasy (29 page)

His confidence vanished the instant Tabor's huge hand clamped tightly around Abdul's wrist. In a moment in time lasting no longer than a fraction of a second, he felt the barbarian's fingers tighten around his wrist with such strength — inhuman strength, his frightened mind concluded — that he dropped the dagger. He looked into the barbarian's eyes, blue as a summer sky and cold as death itself, and tried to pull away, but he could not free himself from the fingers that clutched his wrist. Abdul felt himself being turned, twisted so that his back was toward Tabor. An eyeblink of time later, Tabor's other hand cupped Abdul's chin. The assassin felt his head being forcibly turned, and he thought that no man on earth was powerful enough to force his chin over his shoulder. No man, that is, but Tabor, and as Abdul's chin was wrenched over his shoulder, he felt a stab of pain, heard the high, sharp crack of bones breaking . . . then heard nothing at all ever again.

T
he sobs finally ended, leaving behind only hiccuping gulps. Tanaka pressed her cheek against Tabor's chest and trembled in his arms as he whispered reassuring words, stroking her hair, promising that all would be well.

"I was so terrified," she cried. She rubbed her face into Tabor's robe to wipe away the residual tears. "I was so afraid for you."

"You shouldn't have been. You've seen me fight before. You've even seen me bleed before."

"Yes, but I didn't love you then."

It was a simple declaration, and one that Tanaka had not intended to voice. But now that she had said it, once and for all time, she was happy that it was out. She pushed against Tabor's chest just enough to be able to look up into his eyes.

"Is that so terribly bad of me?" she asked quietly, honestly. "I just want to love you, to be with you, to live in peace with you. I wanted you here with me tonight because I wanted you to see that you're more important to me than anything or anyone else. I would even challenge the wrath of the gods to be with you."

"That's why you invited me here, to your chambers where no man is allowed to be."

It was a statement, not a question, and the full magnitude of it caught Tabor by surprise. This beautiful, brilliant, courageous woman —who was as much a mystery to him as she ever was —loved him. . . . and it seemed to Tabor at that endless moment that he had found Valhalla on earth.

"And I love you, Tanaka," he said quietly, smoothing wavy hair of black satin from her eyes. "I will love you for all time. I want to live with you and have children with you and never be parted from you." He stroked the pad of his thumb over her full, trembling lips. "Without you, I have nothing; with you, I have more than I ever dreamed I'd have." He put his hands on Tanaka's shoulders and pushed her backward, holding her at arm's distance. He leaned down and looked straight into her eyes. "That's why you must be my wife. I cannot live without you, so you must be my wife."

Tanaka looked away, fighting pangs of disappointment. "Your declaration has great force, but not much romance. I am not one of the Vikings you can command."

For an instant Tabor closed his eyes and silently cursed himself. It was his Viking ways that made him think he could demand the world and all the people in it to change their lives to suit his desires. But this mysterious woman before him was not to be commanded. Not now, not ever. Tabor knew that if he was to seize his chance for eternal happiness, then he must convince Tanaka that he had the power to make her happy.

He took her hands in his and knelt on one knee before her. Though speaking from the heart was not something that he enjoyed doing, when he spoke to Tanaka again, his tone was clear and strong and lacked its usual authoritarian air. Instead, his words were sweet and gentle, wrapped in the perfumed folds of a rose.

"High Priestess Tanaka, will you marry me?" He looked from her eyes down to the small hands held in his own. Her fingers looked frail, and he had to consciously remind himself to loosen his grasp for fear that he was hurting her. "Please, Tanaka. ... I never dreamed I had the power to love like this. I know the gods will never smile down upon me like this again, so you must —you simply must — become my wife."

Tanaka smiled then, unable to resist the joy surging through her bosom. Tabor, her loving Viking, was still demanding and forceful, still telling her what she must do rather than asking her what she would do, but he loved her. He was a Viking and always would be. She couldn't make him anything other than what he was. But at least he was her Viking, and his declaration of love was a promise that she believed.

"Yes," she said, and when his head snapped up and his face broke into that brilliant, rakish smile that she so loved, she added, "but in an Egyptian ceremony, not a Viking one."

"As long as the ceremony is immediate, I don't care if it is a Northman ceremony," Tabor replied, rising to his feet to scoop Tanaka once again into his arms, relaxing his grasp only when she squealed with glee and discomfort that he was holding her too tight.

❧

Yasir was frightened. Saliva dribbled from his thick lower lip to drip from his chin onto his chest, completely unheeded. He sat in a dark corner of the long hall that led to Lysetta's chambers.

What to do?

He had crept through the palace to the high priestess's chambers and reached there just in time to watch the enormous barbarian break Abdul's neck. It was the most frightening display of deadly strength Yasir had ever seen, and shivers of fear still twitched up his spine.

After witnessing Abdul's death, Yasir rushed back through the palace in time to watch the barbarians being rounded up and taken to the dungeon. Kahlid, as palace priest, had accused the Vikings of raping and stealing, and he intended to personally torture each and every pale-skinned Viking until he discovered which ones were responsible for the hideous crimes. Kahlid let all who listened know that it was his opinion that all the foreigners were equally guilty, but since he was a fair and just man, he would torture them first to determine the truth.

"There are enemies in the palace!" Kahlid continued. The soldiers' blood already ran hot. They had arrested the Vikings, foreigners who had received special treatment. "These strong, powerful enemies have faces we know and recognize. We believe they are our friends, but they are not our friends, good soldiers! These enemies will destroy all that we love unless we act now to protect our pharaoh, our village, and ourselves!"

"Who are these enemies?" a voice called out from the crowd. "Do they have a leader?"

"Yes, and it is Lysetta, my friends! Lysetta has supped with the pharaoh and pretended to be my friend and yours, but she is loyal to no one! She works in legion with the nether world for the destruction of all that we love!"

"What should we do, Priest Kahlid?" another soldier asked. By raising his sword above his head, he made it clear what choice of action he felt was in order.

"We should take the traitor Lysetta and lock her away with the barbarians!" Kahlid replied, his face flushed with excitement. "Do it now, good men! Do it now!"

Yasir had been able to hide in the crowd of rushing soldiers, then disappeared down a hallway. He'd watched as Lysetta was taken from her chambers and dragged away screaming, professing her innocence and claiming that she was not to blame, others were, and if the men would just give her a moment she would tell them.

Yasir had no doubt that Lysetta would accuse him of whatever she was blamed for. He had enjoyed the flattering things she had said to him and about him when they were in each other's arms, but he'd never believed them. He'd known that she said those things to please him, just as she had touched his body because she needed him to kill for her. Now all that had changed. Lysetta would be his worst enemy.

He closed his eyes and tried to think. What would Lysetta confess first? Would she tell how he had stabbed the foreigner in the back? Probably, Yasir concluded, but that wouldn't be such a bad thing since Kahlid had now turned the soldiers against the Vikings.

But there was still Tabor, the leader of the Vikings, to consider. Tabor was with the high priestess Tanaka, and he was protected by her just as she was protected by him. The soldiers, under Kahlid's orders, had the power of numbers and the authority of a priest to arrest the foreigners. However, this power and authority did not extend to Tabor, loved by the high priestess and respected by Pharaoh Moamin Abbakka himself. Sooner or later Tabor would find out that Yasir had stabbed one of his men in the back. . . . and then, Yasir had little doubt, his own neck would break with the same hideous snapping sound as Abdul's.

So he had to go, to escape . . . but to where? And with what money?

In the shadows, he saw a figure move. Without hesitation, Yasir thrust straight ahead with his dagger, driving it into the body of a young servant girl returning to her quarters.

Yasir stood above the corpse, glad he had killed a woman. Women always let him know how ugly he was; women caused problems. If only he could kill Lysetta as quickly as he had killed the servant girl, then his life would be exactly as he wanted it. He felt better now that he had killed again.

❧

"Don't get angry," Tanaka said as she finished applying one more bandage to Tabor's wounded forearm. "But it was Kahlid who ordered that man to come here."

Tabor's expression hardly changed. Only a slight narrowing of the eyes and a tightness to the lips indicated the murderous rage within.

"I knew he was evil," Tabor replied, deceptively conversational. "He wants to be high priest; and, as long as you live, the pharaoh will never allow it."

"Such a foolish reason to kill," Tanaka shook her head. She was pleased that Tabor held his temper in check.

"Where is Kahlid now?" Tabor asked.

Tanaka took his hands in hers and said sternly, "You promised me that if I told you, you wouldn't seek revenge!"

"Your murder would not have made Kahlid the high priest. Pharaoh Abbakka does not trust Kahlid, and Kahlid knows that. The only way for him to achieve his goal is to murder two people —you and Moamin. Only then does he have a chance at what he covets."

Tanaka considered Tabor's words. A chill washed through her, starting in her stomach and spreading swiftly until she could feel its chilling truth even in the tips of her fingers.

"Neenah trusts Kahlid," Tanaka whispered, as though afraid someone else would hear her, though she was alone with Tabor in her chambers. "With the pharaoh dead, Neenah would take his place. She is kind-hearted, but she is not a leader. She would look to Kahlid for strength. . . . and then he would have more power than if he were high priest!"

Tabor swore in his native tongue, and Tanaka did not understand because he had never before used that kind of language in front of a woman and certainly not in front of the woman he loved.

"We've got to do something," Tanaka cried, clutching Tabor's muscled arm. "We can't let Kahlid win!"

Tabor growled his low, lion's rumble of frustration. This was not his fight, yet he was inextricably linked to Tanaka's troubles and he could not turn his back on the problems that now plagued the palace. As much as he loved Tanaka, it was his sense of justice that committed him to the fight. Strong men, he felt, must protect the weak from powerful evil, or that evil will grow stronger and stronger until it cannot be defeated.

"By Thoth and the thunder of Thor, I will destroy the evil in this infernal palace!" Tabor vowed. "Stand by me, woman, and I will slay the fools who dare defy me!"

Never before Tabor included her in his battle plans. Yet he clearly wanted her with him, and he would not rest until the enemies of the palace —by extension, her enemies —were slain.

"Thank you," Tanaka said softly, angry that she herself did not have the power to fight against the assassins and soldiers of her enemies. "Thank you for being everything that you are."

"Thank me when I am victorious." Tabor checked the bandage on his arm and stood. "Stay here," he commanded, opening and closing his fist to test the severity of the wound. He was pleased to learn that he had not lost any of his strength.

"No, I'm coming with you."

Tabor conceded. Arguing would only delay them further.

"When the killing begins, turn your head away" Tabor suggested. "I know you do not want bloodshed; but there has already been so much blood spilled, the only way the killing will end is to kill the killers."

Tanaka's gentle heart insisted that she protest. Yes, too much blood had already been shed, but violence never truly answered violence. On the other hand, these were savage matters wrought by savage people, and Tabor had a better understanding of what was needed. Crystal tears glistening on her cheek, she gave in.

Tabor headed out of the chambers, and Tanaka followed him. He was formulating a plan. He wanted Sven at his side; he always felt more confident when his lifelong friend was at hand. However, as they entered the long hallway, three Egyptian soldiers saw Tabor and leaped for him. With a scream of rage, Tabor freed himself, but three more Egyptians wrestled him to the floor.

"Run, Tanaka! Run for your life!" Tabor shouted even as a powerful forearm was placed cruelly across his throat, cutting off his breath.

He could hear Tanaka screaming. The sound of her voice and the knowledge that if he failed now this woman that he loved would die urged strength into his limbs. With a lionlike roar, Tabor thrashed on the hard granite of the palace floor, dislodging four of the six men who held him down. He grabbed a soldier by the throat, his fingers digging into soft flesh, but the haft of a broadsword smashed hard against the base of Tabor's skull. Brilliant lights flashed in his head, and his fingers went numb. He could still hear Tanaka's scream, but from very far away. And then the blackness that he fought against overcame him with a velvet embrace.