Viking Ecstasy (7 page)

Stop thinking about last night! You didn't please him, and he'll probably give you back to Ingmar within the hour!

Tanaka slipped the underdress over her head and pulled on the wool dress of bright green. It had a high neckline and came down to her ankles. Thick woolen stockings that came to mid-thigh and soft leather slippers completed the attire.

She pushed all memories of the previous evening to the back of her mind. What was past was history that she could not change, and no amount of worrying could alter that. Besides, with the challenge of a new day, its new problems would require her undivided attention if she were to have even the slightest chance of regaining her freedom.

She stepped outside, where thirty men were packing weapons of war and stowing away items purchased in Hedeby. Tabor gave orders casually, stating them as requests rather than demands, but Tanaka wasn't fooled. She saw how the men immediately did whatever he asked, how their stride became just a little bit quicker and their movements crisper when they knew Tabor was watching. Whenever a Viking locked eyes with her, he would smile and go about his work.

Tanaka suspected the men assumed that she had slept with Tabor; she wanted to scream to them that she hadn't.

Or had she?

It was a puzzling question. The sweet things that Tabor had done with his mouth had taken her to incredible heights of ecstasy—but did that mean she'd made love with Tabor? She had done something, but she wasn't at all certain what that something was, except that it was different from the rape that Ingmar called love-making.

Tanaka was turning this over in her mind when Tabor stepped up to her. Her unpredictable heart skipped a beat.

"You look good dressed like a Viking maiden." Gently, he lifted a lock of her jet black hair and twisted it around his forefinger. It seemed not unlike a caress. "Of course, no Viking maiden has hair as black as midnight."

Tanaka could not tell if she'd been insulted or complimented, but she a felt warmth from Tabor's presence. With memory refreshened, she did not step away, and the hard light in Tabor's eyes let her know that he was still unhappy with what had happened—and what had not happened —the night before.

He released her hair and, turning to his men, announced, "Let's get this over with quickly. Keep your wits about you, your eyes and ears open. This seems harmless, but we've all heard the stories of Ingmar's murderous treachery."

"Aye, we've all heard," Sven agreed. He was the only one of Tabor's men who dared interrupt —or was allowed to. "But what can that bloody Northman do?

He's left all but a handful of men behind. There are thirty-five of us."

Several Vikings voiced their agreement.

"He has seemed to leave himself defenseless, and that's one of the reasons why I don't trust these talks. There are many men who would love to see Ingmar dead. Why would a man with so many enemies leave himself so vulnerable to attack?"

Sven withdrew a deadly-looking dagger from a sheath at his waist and twisted the handle so the early morning sunlight reflected off its flawless, silver blade. "If you give me the word, we could be rid of Ingmar."

"A tempting offer" Tabor said, "but murdering him here in Hedeby, when he has come ostensibly for peaceful purposes, would not be honorable. It wouldn't be the Viking way."

Tanaka shuddered as she watched Sven brandish his dagger. His offer to murder Ingmar, she knew, was genuine. Yet he had also been polite to her. Tanaka wondered if Sven would cut her throat if Tabor gave him the command and suspected that he would. It reaffirmed her belief that she had to convince Tabor that she could please and be of value to him. That insight was still with her when Tabor commanded everyone to lift their trunks and bags of goods and start for Hedeby.

❧

Ingmar squinted, trying to see better through sheer force of will. He was standing atop the wench's hut, staring out to sea. Off in the distance, just specks upon the sea, were ships. He could not yet make out their design, and since they were being rowed against the wind from the north, he could not identify them from the size, shape, and color of their sails.

But it had to be Hugh, returning from Medworth. It had to be.

In his mind, Ingmar could envision what had happened in the small village of Medworth, the home of Tabor and his men. Three ships and nearly one hundred twenty men would have landed at dawn the previous day, descending upon thirty-five Vikings, their women, and their children. It would be bloody hand-to-hand combat. Axes, swords, daggers. The kind of fighting that Ingmar himself avoided. He preferred his powerful bow, a quiver full of iron-tipped arrows, and plenty of distance separating himself from his intended victim.

The fighting would be fierce, for Tabor's men were the best. Perhaps that is why Hugh was late returning to Hedeby, Ingmar thought. For only a second he wondered if it were possible that Hugh and all his men, despite their enormous advantage in numbers, had failed to destroy Tabor's Vikings. What if it were Tabor's men in the longboats making their way slowly against the wind to the port city? The moment Tabor learned of his treachery, Ingmar would be as good as dead.

"Hugh is a fool, but even a fool would taste victory with my plan," Ingmar said aloud. The sound of his own voice, especially when he spoke in a confident tone, always reassured him.

Turning, Ingmar looked inland. Just barely visible beyond the high protective wall that completely surrounded the city, a queue of men were making their way toward the village, led by a tall, broad-shouldered blond man. Ingmar cursed. He turned back toward the sea, and now he recognized his own ships. Hugh, and what was left of the fighting force he'd attacked Medworth with, would soon be in Hedeby, attacking Tabor and his men. Judging the distance and speed, Ingmar guessed that Tabor would be inside the walls of Hedeby for an hour before Hugh would arrive. As long as Ingmar could keep Tabor occupied for an hour, victory would be his! Just one more hour, then Tabor, Son of Thor, thorn in Ingmar the Savage's side, would be dead!

❧

Tabor sat on the long wooden bench, leaning back, his legs crossed ankle upon knee. A maiden approached with a drinking horn filled with hearty ale, but Tabor refused. He did not care for strong drink in the morning, nor would he allow it with his men, believing that it made one stupid and weak-willed.

"How many years have we . . . disagreed?" Ingmar asked. He tore a large chunk of bread from the loaf and popped it into his mouth, washing it down with ale. "Why must we be enemies, Tabor? You want riches, and I want riches. If we work together, we multiply our forces, increase our strength. No country would dare stand against us."

Coldly, Tabor replied, "Aye, I want riches, but not if it means my men and I burn villages to the ground. Not if it means I must sit by and watch men under my command rape and murder. I'd rather be a poor Viking warrior, living by a code of honor that assured me a place in Valhalla."

Ingmar laughed softly. They both knew that, while Tabor's wealth did not equal Ingmar's, he was still a man of considerable wherewithal. The lavish gifts he showered on his lovers was testimony to that.

"Perhaps. But we can all use a little more than what we have now," Ingmar said. He felt a dribble of sweat trickle down his spine. He resisted the urge to wipe his brow. It was not warm enough for him to be perspiring so, and he prayed that Tabor wouldn't notice. If the trap were detected by Tabor, he would seek revenge upon Ingmar in true Viking tradition. He would kill the man responsible for attacking him. Though Ingmar was certain he was a more deadly warrior with bow and arrow, he was also certain that with sword, broadsword, battle-axe, or dagger, Tabor's size, strength, and speed made him a lethal foe.

When Tabor did not respond, Ingmar continued, "My gift. . . . she was entertaining?"

Tabor scowled. He disliked the male habit of detailing sexual conquests as though they were war victories. Ingmar saw his scowl and assumed that the Egyptian slave had been as cold and unresponsive to Tabor as she had been when he'd tied her to his own bed.

"I'll give you another, if you'd like," Ingmar said. "I have many slaves, and my ships will soon sail to the west again. Would you like me to bring you back a dozen or so?" He chuckled as though he and Tabor were confidants. "A man as lusty as you can surely go through a dozen slaves without tiring!"

Tabor stood abruptly. "Enough," he said. "You said you wanted to see me in the free village of Hedeby, where we commit no violence, and I have seen you. You stated that you want peace, yet you offer nothing to make me want to grant you that peace. You do nothing but talk, Ingmar, and your talk has wasted my time."

Ingmar stood then,'too, and Tabor saw an undercurrent of desperation behind his eyes that he did not understand. "Wait. ... we must talk."

"I'm weary of conversation." Tabor turned his back to Ingmar, heading for the door of the tavern. "In another place, we shall meet again, and then we will not have any need to words to end our differences."

Tabor had just passed through the tavern doors into the early morning hubbub of the Hedeby marketplace, when one of his men rushed forward, his face flushed. "Tabor, there are ships at port! Ingmar's ships! They bear their bows and swords at the battle ready!"

In that instant it all took shape in Tabor's mind. He wheeled upon Tanaka, sure that it had been her job to keep him occupied while the attack began. "You are deadlier than I thought!" he spat contemptuously. "But you will not live to brag of your treachery this time! Sven, see that the wench's fate is tied to our own!"

Sven grabbed Tanaka by the collar of her dress with his left hand as his right removed the dagger he had previously threatened to kill Ingmar with. "Fight me now, and you'll die quickly," he promised.

Tabor, drawing his battle-axe, rushed back into the tavern, but Ingmar had already departed. The tavern owner pointed to a window in the back. Tabor rushed to the opening in time to see Ingmar pushing his way through the sparse crowd at a dead run, moving toward the dock where his men waited.

The willful betrayal of Ingmar's plan stunned Tabor. Hedeby was a free village, a place for commerce and entertainment. It had been a tacit agreement by Vikings everywhere that the villages of Hedeby, Kaupang, and Birka were to be free zones where violence and raiding would not be tolerated. Ingmar had to know that to break that pact would make him an enemy to Viking leaders everywhere.

But then, who besides Tabor, Son of Thor, had the strength, the will, the resolve, the well-trained Vikings, and the courage necessary to confront Ingmar the Savage?

The battle began in an instant when the leading edge of Ingmar's troops clashed with Tabor's Vikings. Tabor met two men head on. Axe in one hand, sword in the other, he slew them both in short order and looked for more.

"Behind you!" Tanaka screamed.

Tabor did not trust the woman, believing that she had been used by Ingmar to distract him, but without hesitation he ducked, bending his knees and wheeling to his left. The sharp edge of a sword sliced through the air a fraction of an inch from his head. Still crouched low, Tabor lunged out with his sword, driving the deadly blade in deeply. As he pulled his weapon from the corpse, he was aware that he owed his life to Tanaka; and the question of why she would warn him of the blind-side attack, even when she herself had been sent by Ingmar to subvert his defenses, took root deep in his mind.

Three more of Ingmar's men were felled by Tabor's axe and sword, but though he was successful in his own skirmishes, he sensed around him that the battle could not be won. His own Vikings, though fighting bravely and skillfully, could not match the monumental advantage of sheer numbers that Ingmar's warriors possessed. Although retreat was something that Tabor and his Vikings had never before had to do, to continue fighting would only result in their death.

"Be gone with us all!" Tabor shouted. "We'll fight these swine another day!"

He looked to his right and was surprised to see Tanaka. Sven had released her to put both hands and all his attention to the fight, so she had had plenty of opportunities to escape. Why had she chosen not to?

"To the ship! To the ship, good men all!" Tabor shouted above the cries of the villagers, who had never before witnessed carnage within the walls of Hedeby.

Tabor confronted one last warrior, slaying him with his bloody axe, then looked about him again. Though the lives of all of his Vikings were precious to him, he valued Sven's most. Tabor would not retreat until he knew that his friend was alive and capable of retreating. Sven and Tabor had saved each other's life many times, and neither would abandon the other.

Tabor found Sven with his back to a wall, fighting off three of Ingmar's swordsmen. Though attack from behind was not an honorable method of attack, Tabor launched into the three with ferocious wrath, swinging battle-axe and stabbing with sword. He felled two of the men as Sven dropped the third.

"To the ship," Tabor said to Sven. "There are too many of them to fight now!"

"Aye! And I fear that our warriors in Medworth have already fallen!"

Tabor nodded, about to fight his way to the rear entrance of Hedeby, when an arrow pierced his left biceps. He growled more in rage than pain as the battle-axe that had been his father's, and his father's before that, dropped from his hand. Blood spurted from the wounds fore and aft, the arrow lodged through the muscle.

"I'll kill the dark wench for you, my friend!" Sven hissed as he snapped the shaft of the arrow very near the inside of Tabor's biceps. Before he could pull the arrow from Tabor's arm, another arrow cut through the air, narrowly missing them.

In unison, they looked in the direction of the attack and saw Ingmar, standing atop a building, shooting down at them.

The ensuing chaos made it possible for Tabor and Sven to rush between buildings and briefly avoid further arrows. Sven pulled the remainder of the arrow from Tabor's arm, but blood spurted freely from the wounds, soaking into the heavy fabric of Tabor's clothing and staining it red down to his waist.

Tabor sheathed his sword and used his hand to clutch his wound closed. He had already lost a great deal of blood, enough to weaken him. When even the slightest diminution of his fighting skills could cause his death..Now, for the first time since he'd taken command, he felt defeat, as though he had let down the men who trusted in his leadership.

As they made their way toward the landward entrance to Hedeby, they gathered together those Vikings who had survived the assault. Of thirty-five men, just fifteen remained. Only the lack of discipline among Ingmar's warriors made escape possible, since many of the men were already searching out women to molest, goods to steal, and wine or ale to gulp.

Sven stayed by Tabor's side until they reached the gate. Then, looking back one last time, Sven saw the Egyptian slave. Rage boiled in his veins. "Continue on. I'll be with you shortly." Sven nodded in Tanaka's direction. "The wench tricked us, but she'll not live to boast of it."

Tanaka stood about fifty feet away, timorous and dwarfed by Viking clothes that were far too large. Tabor's company had been decimated and the remaining men were in full retreat, yet under continued attack. The possibility of being overrun in the Danish countryside was still great —more likely than not. His own life's blood was squeezing between his fingers and running down his side.