Viking Passion (17 page)

“You will never have me again,” she declared,
panting as she tried to push him away. “You are no better than
Snorri. I hate your whole family for what you’ve done.”

They wrestled together, rolling back and
forth on the bed. Erik was perilously close to achieving his
objective when Lenora, with a desperate effort, pushed him onto the
floor. He sat up, shaking his head with a stunned expression.

“Get out, you drunken brute,” she cried. “You
are truly Snorri’s brother to take an unwilling woman. Go back to
Erna.”

He pulled himself to his feet and stood
blinking down at her, swaying slightly.

“You are not unwilling,” he announced with
mead-induced gravity. “And I do not want Erna. I want you.”

“Well, I do not want you. I never want to lie
with you again.” Lenora’s voice cracked with anger as she slapped
at him.

He caught her hands and pulled her roughly
against his chest.

“You have nothing to say about it. When your
master desires you,” he reminded her, “you must submit.”

“Leave me alone,” she screamed, all
self-control gone. “I can’t stand the sight of you.”

Relentlessly he bore her back onto the bed.
Lenora fought and clawed and bit and scratched, but he would not be
stopped. In her weakened state her strength soon ebbed.

“Put your arms around me, hold me,” he
pleaded.

“No, no.” She was nearly sobbing now. The
harder she tried to get away from him, the closer his body pressed
against hers. She tossed her head from side to side, trying to
avoid his mouth. It was hopeless. As she twisted helplessly beneath
him, his lips met hers.

She would not give in to him, she would not.
She despised him. But, ah, his mouth was sweet, and even in his
drunken and angry condition he was not brutal. There was no
fighting him; he was too strong for her. Her body, that weak vessel
for her bruised yet unconquered spirit, was even now surrendering,
rising to meet him, accepting him, enfolding him.

She wanted no pleasure from their union; she
wanted only a quick martyrdom under his imperative masculinity. He
would not allow it. He caught her up with him and carried her along
on his passion until at last her unwilling arms did encircle him,
and in the instant before his final cry of joy and despair her
mouth softened and opened and drew him in and held him, and he
tasted her tears and her sweetness together.

“I hate you,” she whispered into the thick
hair of his muscular chest. “I will always hate you. I’ll never
stop.”

“Lenora.” His arms held her in unbreakable
bondage. “My sweet, comforting Lenora.” He sighed deeply and pulled
her closer.

“Erik?” She lifted her head to meet his eyes,
but he was asleep. She tried to slip out of his grasp, but his arms
tightened. Finally she gave up and snuggled into his warmth,
drifting off to sleep beside him.

Snorri came home two days later to find a
divided family. Gunhilde, always jealous of her position, had taken
over management of Thorkellshavn as soon as the ashes from
Thorkell’s funeral pyre had been gathered up and buried. Although
there were a few who would have preferred to see Erik elected to
fill Thorkell’s position as chieftain, there was general agreement
that Snorri would be chosen once he arrived home safely from his
latest voyage. Thus there was no opposition to Gunhilde’s
actions.

“Snorri has inherited his father’s
possessions,” Gunhilde announced unnecessarily, “even though he
does not know it yet. As his wife, I will manage his affairs in his
absence. Give me the keys, Freydis.”

Gunhilde’s stubborn chin tilted upward and
she looked at Freydis with a mocking expression, not troubling to
hide her pleasure at Freydis’ enforced submission.

Freydis, her face white with fury at such
treatment before all those assembled for the evening’s feast,
unfastened the keys that hung suspended on silver chains from her
right shoulder brooch. Silently she handed them to Gunhilde.

“Tola,” Gunhilde said, “from this day you
will follow my orders only.”

“Tola is my personal servant.” Freydis’ voice
dripped scorn. “Since you are so well informed about household
matters, I thought you knew as much. Tola belongs to me.”

“Then my woman Signe will take over Tola’s
duties in the kitchen and hall,” Gunhilde replied. “Let Tola help
you with your clothes and your hair, dear Freydis. You will need
such assistance for you are to wed soon, and you must look your
best for your bridegroom.”

Freydis went even whiter at these words. “I
have no plans to marry.”

“But I have plans for you, sister. My cousin
Kare is coming to visit in the spring. You will like him, I
know.”

“Ha,” Tola whispered to Lenora. “I’ve seen
that Kare. He’s fat, and his eyes look in opposite directions. My
mistress won’t want him.”

“Gunhilde doesn’t want a rival in her home,”
Lenora observed. “That’s why she wants Freydis to marry and leave
Thorkellshavn.”

“You had better be careful too,” Tola said.
“Gunhilde remembers how Erik kept her from ruling Thorkellshavn
while Freydis was sick. For that insult, she dislikes Erik almost
as much as Snorri does, and she doesn’t like you much more. She
will make trouble for the two of you if she can.”

Later that night Lenora returned from the
kitchen to find Halfdan and Erik in deep conversation in Erik’s
house.

“Come in and shut the door,” Erik said. “Are
you alone?”

“Yes. Tola has gone to Freydis.”

“Good. Tola means well, but she talks too
much. You are not to repeat anything you hear, Lenora.” Turning to
Halfdan, Erik continued. “We will dig it up a little later, after
everyone is asleep. If you leave early enough, just before dawn, no
one will notice how much you are carrying. Are your men all
trustworthy?”

“Completely. Shall I return here
afterward?”

“I think you should stay with your father. I
may need someone in a place of safety.”

“I wish I could take Freydis with me,”
Halfdan said. “I’m worried about her. Gunhilde hates her.”

“She will not leave until Snorri returns.
After she talks with him, if Snorri agrees with Gunhilde about this
proposed marriage, then Freydis may decide to go. I am certain she
will refuse to marry Kare, and that is her right. Gunhilde cannot
force Freydis to marry.”

“Gunhilde can make life very unpleasant for
Freydis if she does not agree to marry,” Lenora put in. “Gunhilde
is a determined woman.”

“So am I determined.” Erik stood up. “Let’s
go, Halfdan. Lenora, remain here while we are gone. Open the door
only to Halfdan or me. We won’t be long.”

Muffling their faces in their cloaks, the two
men went out. Lenora fastened the door and sat down to wait.

She needed this time alone to sort out her
confused thoughts. Her old hatred of the Norse, and her desire for
revenge against them, had returned in a great surge of fury as she
watched Thorkell’s funeral pyre burning. She could not bear to
think of what had been done to Edwina.

She blamed Erik, believing he could have
stopped Edwina’s death if he had wanted to do so. She would never
forgive him for letting her friend die. And yet she knew he had
done what he had out of love for his father, and in her deepest,
most secret heart, she acknowledged Edwina’s eagerness for her
fate. Lenora could not deny she had wanted Erik when he had come to
her, wanted him to hold and comfort her for her loss while she did
the same for him. How could she hate him and need him so
desperately at the same time? No matter how long or how hard she
thought, Lenora could find no answer to that question. The only
thing she was sure of was that, with Snorri and Gunhilde ruling
Thorkellshavn, her safest course was to be as agreeable as possible
to Erik, and to stay as close to him as he would allow.

When Erik and Halfdan finally returned each
man carried a heavy leather sack, encrusted with dirt and leaves.
These they dumped out onto the bed. Lenora cried out in wonder.

“Be quiet,” Erik ordered, his voice low and
urgent. “We don’t want anyone to hear us. Snorri’s friends must not
know what we are doing this night.”

“I’m sorry,” Lenora said in hasty apology. “I
was just so surprised. I have never seen so much silver in one
place before.” She could not take her eyes off the lustrous metal.
Cups and plates, twisted wires made into neck-rings and armbands,
but most of all, coins, lay scattered before them on the bed-shelf.
“Where did you get this? And if it has been buried, as it must have
been from all this earth on the bags, why isn’t it black?”

“It hasn’t been buried very long,” Erik said.
“This is my portion of Thorkell’s hoard. He gave it to me when he
became sick. He remembered the volva’s prophecy and thought he
might die. He decided to provide for me in advance.”

“We are lucky Snorri is away,” Halfdan added.
“There will surely be trouble when he returns. You see, Lenora,
although the oldest son inherits, he will usually pay the younger
ones some compensation, so they can travel abroad to make their
fortunes, or so they can set up their own homes. Snorri will never
do that for Erik, and Thorkell knew it. Now, Snorri’s absence gives
us time to make other arrangements.”

“What will you do with all of this?” Lenora
picked up a coin. There was strange writing on it. “What does it
say?”

“I don’t know. I can’t read Arabic.” Erik’s
worried eyes searched her face. “Can I trust you? Well, it’s too
late if I can’t. Halfdan is going to take this hoard to his father
for safekeeping. You are going to help us pack it. Unload that
chest. We will also need the chest from Miklagard. Take everything
out of it but the books.”

“You are sending the books away too?”

“Snorri will only burn them if there is
trouble. Go on, Lenora.”

They worked as quickly as possible. When the
chests were packed and locked, Halfdan left, returning with two
strong male servants. The four men carried the chests out to load
them on a cart, leaving Lenora to bundle the last few pieces into
the leather sacks.

“Here.” She thrust the package at Halfdan
when he returned. “It is almost daylight. You must go.”

“Be careful, Lenora. This is a dangerous
place now that Thorkell is dead.” Halfdan’s blue eyes were
shadowed. “If Freydis asks for me, tell her only that I have gone
to my father. For her own safety, she cannot know about this hoard
of Erik’s.”

“Freydis and I do not speak much these days,”
Lenora said, “but I will tell no one about the silver.”

Halfdan’s big hand patted her shoulder.

“Until we meet again, Lenora. Keep well,
brother.” The two men embraced, clapping each other on the back,
and then Halfdan was gone.

It was later the same morning that Snorri’s
ship appeared, oars moving rhythmically as it progressed upriver to
its anchorage at Thorkellshavn.

Snorri did not seem at all distressed at the
news of his father’s death. He strode into the great hall and
seated himself on the arm of Thorkell’s chair. He did not take the
seat itself, for that was reserved for the master of
Thorkellshavn.

“We will elect a new chieftain tonight,” he
announced, to uproarious acclaim. Turning to Gunhilde, standing at
his side, he added, “And then we will celebrate my homecoming
seated together upon Thorkell’s chair.”

Gunhilde’s expression as she looked back at
her husband was warmer and more respectful than Lenora had ever
seen it.

Next, Snorri made his way to Thorkell’s
chambers, followed by Erik and Lenora.

“I have completed Thorkell’s work,” Erik told
him. “Here is a list of all our father’s lands and
possessions.”

Snorri, who could not read, squinted at the
sheets of parchment.

“What do I care for lists?” he said. “I own
Thorkell’s hoard now. And even you, clever Erik, do not know where
it is buried. Thorkell told only me.”

Erik shrugged. “I know the law,” he replied.
“All of Thorkell’s debts have been paid. It was done with
Gunhilde’s agreement. Now everything that was Thorkell’s is
yours.”

“Except for one debt,” Lenora spoke up.
“Erik, you forgot to pay me. Thorkell promised me silver coins for
the work I did for him in this room, so I could eventually buy my
freedom. He was holding the money for me. There is a record of
it.”

“I did not forget,” Erik said, looking
annoyed that she had raised the subject. “I did not want to discuss
it with Gunhilde. I will take care of that debt myself.”

“Indeed you will.” Snorri laughed. “I will
not pay my silver to any slave, certainly not to another man’s
wench. Now leave me, both of you.”

Lenora would have said more, would have
protested the unfairness of Erik having to pay a debt his father
had incurred, but the look he gave her stopped the angry words
before they left her tongue. It seemed to her that Erik was
pleading with her to remain silent. Looking from his face to
Snorri’s, she understood how foolish it would be to antagonize the
man who was now the most powerful person in Thorkellshavn.

“I told you to get out,” Snorri said rudely.
“This is my room now. Don’t enter it again.”

In silence Erik opened the door, holding it
so Lenora could pass.

“Treat your slave like that,” Snorri said,
noting the courtesy, “and before long she will rule you. But you
are easily ruled, aren’t you, Erik?”

Without responding to the taunt, Erik closed
the door behind himself and Lenora. Then, with his arm across her
shoulders, he took her up the path and into his own house.

“Now we can speak more freely,” he said.
“Don’t talk to Snorri or Gunhilde unless it’s absolutely necessary,
and then be extremely polite.”

“He has cheated me of the silver I earned,”
Lenora began.

“The money is unimportant.” He made an
impatient gesture with one hand. His apparent indifference angered
her.