Viking Ecstasy (38 page)

❧

"You're sure about this?" Sven asked, standing next to Tabor at the bow of one of the warships.

Tabor ran his fingers through his hair, not looking at Sven, who had found —to Tabor's annoyance — great humor in the events of the past days.

In point of fact, Tabor was absolutely certain that what he was about to do was the most foolish thing he had ever done. Even worse, he knew he was leading his men into a battle that —unless absolutely everything Tanaka had predicted turned out to be true —would prove nothing less than suicidal.

The men advanced slowly, using the oars for greater control over the speed at which they approached Karak. Behind the lead ship, Jafar sat at the helm of Sven's vessel. When the fighting began, Tabor wanted Sven at his side.

The Viking inhaled deeply. The scent of the salt air never failed to please him. It was late morning, his favorite time of the day, and all his nerves were battle-ready. But it was not yet time to lead the warships into port.

He turned and gave Sven a grin. "We've been through many battles, my friend."

"Aye, but never have we gone into battle . . . following your wife's lead."

They laughed then, both of them, at the hilarious absurdity of their situation, drawing the attention of the other men on the boat. Tabor was concerned about each man who sailed with him, just as each was fiercely loyal in return. But the ties weren't as deep, as heart-strengthened, as the bond between Tabor and Sven.

"On the morrow, when the fighting has ended and Ingmar is at last feeding the fish and Tanaka is at my side once more, then we will concentrate our energies on finding you a wife. You've been without one too long already."

Together, they laughed once again, and the sound of their merriment encouraged the other Vikings. It let them know that even though they were about to go into battle, their leader was confident, his passion for victory unwavering.

T
hey continued to move in slowly. Every man had his weapons ready at his side, though none were allowed to use them until Tabor gave the order. It was clear that news of Tabor's arrival had spread ahead of them. Many people lined the banks, watching the slow, steady progress of the two strangely-designed longboats that rumor had described, but few had actually seen.

Although Tabor's lead boat was still at a distance from the nearest section of the pier, he could already recognize Ingmar, his silhouette distinctive because of his great height and breadth. And beside him, so small and dark, stood Tanaka.

"She's with him," Sven said, his gaze riveted upon the scene.

"She's beside him," Tabor corrected testily.

The respect he had for his wife rose slightly, and Tabor smiled proudly. Tanaka had walked through the night into the enemy's camp and she had lured that enemy out onto a pier where he would be most vulnerable, just as she had said she would. Surely, this was the kind of woman that would be a legend, her life and bravery spoken of by storytellers at campfires for generations to come.

"I never thought she could do it," Sven admitted in quiet confession.

"Neither did I," Tabor replied. "Now let's get her out of there."

They were close enough so that Tabor could see Ing-mar and Tanaka clearly. He was relieved to see that his wife looked just a little pale and fatigued but, other than that, none the worse for her ordeal. In that single, shining moment, advancing on his wife and the deadliest enemy he had ever known, Tabor realized how desolate his life would be without her. An eternal winter with no sun or warmth. Endless gray, frigid, lifeless days until death claimed him. She was his Valhalla . . . his heaven on earth.

Tabor raised his hands above his head, showing his palms to Ingmar in the gesture of peace, proving that he was unarmed. Ingmar immediately did the same, and both Sven and Tabor snorted at the hypocrisy. Tabor and all his men had a full supply of deadly weapons within arm's reach just as Ingmar and all his men had their lethal weapons near at hand. But for reasons of mendacity and treachery, both sides found it necessary to pretend benevolence.

"Keep your wits about you," Tabor murmured to Sven. When Sven glanced upward toward the sun, Tabor hissed, "Don't look! You don't want to give our plan away!"

Sven grinned ruefully "I know what our plan is, and I still don't understand it."

Scant space and water now separated Tabor from Ingmar and Tanaka. He tried to avoid looking at her, afraid. Afraid that something in his eyes would tell Ingmar of his duplicity; afraid of the whole lunatic notion of Ingmar believing they could find a common ground; afraid that the illogic of the entire battle plan would be written plainly upon his face. Surely, Ingmar could not for a second believe that Tabor was willing to negotiate a peaceful end to their confrontation.

Ingmar called out, "Tabor, you still don't wear a helmet! Must you show off your good looks even now?" He smiled. To the people nearby, who knew no better, he appeared an amiable man at jest with an old friend. But those who did not know better were few; the hatred between these old enemies was legendary.

"I do it just in case you have a mistress worth taking!" Tabor replied, smiling back, his dimple showing as he scanned the crowd on the pier, intentionally making openly seductive eye contact with several women near Ingmar. Avoiding Tanaka's eyes. He did not want Ingmar to know the extent of his emotion and loyalty to Tanaka for fear his enemy would use it against him. Throughout the performance, he smiled with his mouth, but his eyes were hard and cold.

There was the typical commotion as the two battle ships were brought to the docks and tied up. The tension in the air—the thick, explosive distrust—was so apparent that even those few people who knew nothing at all of the Viking leaders inched away. No amount of curiosity could keep them close to the smiling combatants.

Tabor leaped onto the long pier, and Sven immediately followed him, but they were the only ones to get off the boats.

"Have your men come ashore," Ingmar said. "There is good beer and wine to be drunk, good food to be eaten, good women to be kept warm."

"The beer and wine in Karak is foul; the food, worse," Tabor replied without malice. "My men will stay aboard ship for now."

"They are yours to command. But I have no intention of speaking to you at length while standing here. These matters are best discussed in private."

Tabor shook his head. "Nay. In private, a man lies. I have nothing to hide, and if you have nothing to hide, then you, too, will find this a suitable place to discuss a truce."

"Truce? I thought we would discuss a partnership, combining our forces to increase our profits and crush anyone who dares sail against us."

Tabor had thus far managed to keep from looking at Tanaka, but Ingmar's suspicious tone forced him at last to look at his wife.
What had she told Ingmar?
he asked with his eyes, the question warring with his need to show her his love.

"Which is it, Tabor?" Ingmar asked, a snear on his lips, his eyes narrowed and hateful. "A truce, a pact. ... or is this just another of your lies?"

Tabor looked away, as though disgusted with the line of questioning and with Tanaka for having failed to do as he commanded. Out to sea, blocking Tabor's boats, a Viking warship with the characteristic high brow frontpiece moved into position. Escape without confrontation was now impossible.

He turned back toward Ingmar, a playful grin dancing on his lips. "Leave it to a woman to get things wrong, eh, Ingmar? I gave her a simple task to perform, and it appears to be too difficult for her. But then, the dark-eyed one does not speak our language that well."

"She speaks it well enough," Ingmar replied skeptically, his gaze darting from Tabor to Tanaka.

Unable to resist the impulse, Tabor looked up at the sky. The moon was strangely located near the sun. . . . but could it, as Tanaka claimed, truly devour all the sunlight? Ingmar looked up, too, but he saw nothing but sky.

"I have prepared a tavern room where we can discuss these matters," Ingmar continued.

His keen, warrior's senses detected Tabor's unease. He knew there was something that Tabor was not telling him, some trick to be revealed later, but he felt no anxiety. Before the plan had any chance of succeeding, Ingmar would make sure that Tabor was dead, killed by his own treasured battle-axe. In the tavern, Hugh waited with the axe. Ingmar had outlined a dramatic, torturous production. He would receive the axe from his brother, and then —when Tabor had been suitably taunted, forced to plead repeatedly for its return — Ingmar would indeed give it to him. Right in the middle of his forehead.

Since she had been silent for so long and since his attention was centered on Tabor, Ingmar was startled when Tanaka spoke, her voice clear and resonant, speaking as a high priestess might address a large assembly.

"Today is an historic day," Tanaka began, looking at Ingmar but raising her hand to include everyone. "Two Viking men —Tabor and Ingmar, their hatred for each other legendary — have now come together to bring peace to this land and to these waters."

A murmur rose up from the citizens of Karak who, though criminal in their own right, had long ago tired of the needless bloodshed and murder that this feud had spawned. Ingmar's men, who greatly profited from the lawlessness they adored, looked from one to the other, each posing the unlikely question: Does Ingmar the Savage really want peace? The Vikings who sailed with Ingmar had been told that every man in Tabor's command was to be slaughtered. When they'd received this command the previous evening, they had cheered long and loud. Now, the dark-skinned beauty from Egypt who had returned to their midst was telling them the carnage they enjoyed was coming to an end.

"There is nothing to be gained by violence," Tanaka continued, her voice rising as the murmur of disapproval from Ingmar's men grew louder.

Outwardly calm, Tanaka's fear constricted within her belly. The moon was in line with the sun, just as the tarot and her visions had foretold, just as they had been on the celebrated day of her birth. But the two celestial bodies were still too far apart. Her palms moist and clammy, she clutched the woven wool sash that circled her waist. She had to keep Ingmar from forcing Tabor into the tavern. Once there, the effect of the eclipse would be lost and victory for Ingmar would be assured.

"Silence yourself, woman," Ingmar said, displeased. This is no place for you to speak."

But panic gripped Tanaka too tightly for her to be so easily repressed. Ingmar had kept his voice low, not wanting his execution of Tabor or his lack of control over Tanaka to be publicly displayed. There lay his mistake, for the Egyptian high priestess took another step and her voice rang loud with authority.

"I am Tanaka, the high priestess of Opar," she continued. Only those close to her saw the wild fear in her eyes. "I see into the heavens and know what will be! I am powerful! My visions are sought by the wise and the brave!"

"Silence yourself, or I'll cut your tongue out here and now," Ingmar hissed through clenched teeth.

All eyes were upon Tanaka, even those of Ingmar's men. Though they were a barbarian lot, the information that Tanaka was a high priestess was unsetding, especially when she claimed to see visions and have power.

"You have heard that there is to be fighting here on this day," Tanaka continued, now in the grip of primal fear. She was certain that Ingmar meant to slaughter Tabor, his men, and her. She was equally certain that Ingmar's Vikings were not pleased with the thought of not being able to kill on this day. Her hesitation and doubt, her concern that by attacking first she was no better than Ingmar vanished as she looked at the dirty faces and the hate-filled eyes of those who sailed with Ingmar.

"There will be no fighting on this day, no matter what Ingmar has told you! You will not be allowed to kill Tabor, Son of Thor, nor his men . . . because if you do —if you even think of war when we come in peace — I will have the heavens turn black as midnight and death will fall upon you!"

Along the pier, men moved out of the way as Hugh rushed forward. He had been in the tavern, waiting impatiently for his brother and Tabor to arrive. When he heard the Egyptian woman's words, he raced to his brother's side, foregoing the dramatic impact that Ingmar had hoped for.

"That is my axe!" Tabor spat when he saw what Hugh held in his hands.

Tanaka stole a glance toward the sky. The sun and the moon nearly touched.

"Do not damn yourselves to a living, eternal inferno!" Tanaka continued, her voice rising to a defiant shout. "I know you want to spill the blood of your enemy, but my power is great. To prove my power, I will turn day to night!" Her voice rose in crescendo as she pointed toward the moon and sun, now touching and headed for an imminent, shattering collision.

Ingmar roared, his patience at an end. He grabbed Tanaka's arm and threw her roughly to the ground. "Cease your foolish babble, woman!" He sensed the fear growing in his men, fear that her words held truth. "Are you such cowards that you would believe such madness? Madness spoken by a woman?"

But even as he spoke, the sun and moon hastened their soaring travels across the sky, their speed lending credence to the unnerving prophecy of Egypt's high priestess. Not one of the nearly three hundred people gathered at the pier uttered a word. Everyone looked at Tanaka, then into the sky, where the sun and the moon crushed against each other.

Even Tabor stood frozen in place. Could it be that her "vision" of the future was in accord with his vision of the present?

The moon had blotted out half the sun before anyone dared breathed. And then, on land, the villagers of Karak, those who had never believed Ingmar and Tabor could ever be anything but mortal enemies, ran for the protection of their homes. The dark-skinned woman who spoke their language but looked so different from them had said they would suffer greatly if treachery was at hand, and they wanted to be nowhere near when she sought her vengeance. Powers such as those she claimed to have—and now proved she had — were not to be trifled with.

"Attack!" Ingmar suddenly shouted, his bellow shattering the silence, drowning out the buzz of growing fear among his own men and the villagers of Karak. He reached for the battle-axe that Hugh held, ripping it from his grasp. "The woman lies! Attack! Attack!"

His words inspired immediate action, but not the kind he wanted. His men were like their leader, savage and ignorant, essentially cowards. Tanaka had promised eternal agony to any man who attacked Tabor's Vikings when they came in peace. Now they believed she had the power to rid the sun from the sky and curse their lives with agony. The men began clamoring from the docked longboat seeking safety, and the freedom to run and hide. Not a dozen men had made the leap from the boat to the pier when the sun at last was completely blotted out by the moon. Midnight darkness fell over the land as black and complete as winter's ice.

"Down!" Tabor shouted, groping in the darkness for Tanaka, grabbing her by the arms. He covered her body with his own to protect her.

"Leave me alone! I want to help!" Tanaka shouted, fighting against Tabor. She could not forget how the tarot had said she must be a Princess of Swords and fight at her husband's side as an equal in spirit if not in skill.

A moment later she heard the sound of bowstrings being released, sending forth their arrows. First it was a single bowstring, then dozens upon dozens of twangs! reverberated in the darkness. Tabor had given his men orders that the moment the sun disappeared they were to fire upon Ingmar's men. He had been sure that they be concentrated near the pier in readiness for an attack upon his Viking and Egyptian forces.

Shouts of men struck down by arrows mingled with hideous cries of fear. Men ran blindly. Some fell from the pier into the water; others intentionally threw themselves into the sea, fearful that the inferno Tanaka had promised would claim them.