Viking Passion (24 page)

“We fit right in,” Halfdan observed. “No one
would know us from any other traders.”

“Snorri can’t have followed us so quickly,
can he?” Lenora looked about nervously, as though she expected to
see Snorri’s bearded face materialize at any moment.

“I hope it is a long time before he gets this
far,” Erik said. “It will take us a while to find a ship going back
to Denmark and buy your passage on it. Then I can head for Holmgard
and Kiev.”

“I am not going back to Denmark,” Lenora said
flatly.

“Neither am I,” Halfdan added.

“I’ve told you before, Lenora, you cannot go
to Miklagard with me. You have no idea how hard the trip is, or how
dangerous.” Erik was plainly irritated at this rebellion against
his carefully laid plans. “I never intended that you should come
this far with me. Were it not for Rodfos, you would be on your way
westward this very day, sailing from Bornholm. You will do as I
say, Lenora, and return to Denmark. Halfdan, you must guard Lenora
and see that she gets safely to Limfjord.”

“I don’t want to be safe, I want to go to
Miklagard,” Lenora declared. “I’m not your slave any more. You
can’t tell me what to do.” Lenora was hurt, and her pain sounded in
her voice. She had thought all was well between herself and Erik,
and now here he was, trying to get rid of her. She began to be
angry. Even Halfdan’s support did nothing to calm her rising
temper.

“We won’t leave you, Erik,” Halfdan said.
“You are going to have company on your trip, and that is that.”

Erik ignored his friend to glare at Lenora.
She looked back at him in open defiance.

“I do not want you,” Erik said slowly and
clearly. “It is too dangerous for you. Go home. That is what we
planned.”

“It is what you planned, so you will be free
of me when you meet your precious Eirena again, isn’t that it?” In
her relief about Erna, Lenora had forgotten that cursed Greek woman
Erik had told her about, but now she remembered. If Erik didn’t
want her with him, it must be because of Eirena.

“I don’t want to worry about you any more. I
want to know you are safe in Denmark.” Erik stalked off toward the
waterfront.

“We’re almost out of food,” Halfdan said. “We
had better see if we can trade some of this woolen cloth for a
piece of meat and a few vegetables.”

“I hate him,” Lenora ground out, her
frustration and rage spilling over.

“I know. So do I. That’s why we both want to
follow him to the ends of the earth.” Halfdan’s boyish smile calmed
her more effectively than anything he could have said. Halfdan
understood.

When Erik returned later, Lenora had a tasty
stew simmering in Halfdan’s cauldron. He ate silently and then
wrapped himself in the piece of wool from Holgar’s warehouse that
served him as both cloak and blanket and fell asleep.

Wrapped in her own tattered cloak, Lenora lay
between Erik and the gently snoring Halfdan. So this was their
first night ashore, for which, during the sea voyage, she had so
yearned. She had hoped to spend it in Erik’s arms. She ached for
his touch. His proximity, within the close confines of their tent,
only increased her discomfort. The sky was light with dawn and the
busy town was stirring into life before she finally slept.

Their argument went on for days, with only
slight variations. Erik continued to search for a ship sailing to
Denmark. Both Halfdan and Lenora repeatedly insisted they would not
leave him. Stubbornly determined that they must go, he paid no
attention to their protests.

Erik also tried to find a party of traders
traveling to Holmgard and on to Kiev, but in this quest, too, he
was unsuccessful. The traders who had come to Aldeigjuborg were
there to stay until their goods were sold and new cargo bought.
Most were waiting for the ice to break up on the rivers that were
the roads to the interior of Gardariki. This year the spring thaw
was late. Until the ice was gone and the floods had subsided enough
to make travel safe, the traders were forced to remain where they
were.

Erik grew more and more irritable and
restless, and Lenora responded in kind. With Halfdan sharing their
tiny tent, the intimacy that might have resolved their quarrel was
impossible. Their tempers grew ever shorter with each other.

“It’s your Greek woman, your precious
Eirena,” Lenora stormed at him for the hundredth time, humiliated
by the realization that although she cared for him deeply and
wanted him badly, Erik apparently no longer wanted her.

“I am weary of you, Lenora. I grow more tired
every day of your sharp tongue and your stubbornness. I want to be
free.”

“Then go, and I will stay here,” she
retorted.

“You wouldn’t last long. These traders are
rough men, and they know a nice piece of merchandise when they see
one. You have been safe so far only because Halfdan and I are here
to protect you.”

“How I despise you,” she cried, stung by an
argument she knew was true.

He laughed at her insults and refused to
argue further.

One midday, when their supply of food was
nearly used up and Erik and Halfdan had gone off to talk to a
trader from Kiev, Lenora set out by herself for the market. She was
fascinated by the variety of goods to be had there, and stopped
several times to look at silks and furs and gold jewelry, but she
avoided the area where slaves were sold. She did not want to be
reminded of her recent past.

She had just begun to bargain for some
turnips and a particularly fine cabbage when she looked toward the
edge of the market area and a man caught her eye. Her heart skipped
several beats.

It was Sven the Dark. No one else could be so
very tall and thin, or have such thick, pale blond hair. He turned
his head and she was certain. Where Sven was, his son-in-law Snorri
could not be far behind.

She had to hide before he saw her. Lenora
looked around the crowded waterfront in frantic haste, searching
for a safe place. There was none.

She left the baffled vegetable seller and
hurried in the opposite direction from Sven. She dared not glance
over her shoulder for fear he would see her face and recognize her.
She noticed with surprise that Rodfos’ knarr was only a short
distance away. She had thought he had sailed back to Hedeby, but
there sat the knarr, looking to Lenora like a place of refuge.
Rodfos himself stood on the dock next to his ship, talking to
another man. As Lenora watched, the man walked away, leaving Rodfos
alone. She hurried forward.

“Freydis, what are you doing here?” Rodfos’
deep voice boomed out. Lenora was certain Sven must have heard him
on the opposite side of the market.

“I need your help,” Lenora said, putting one
hand on his muscular arm. “I’m in danger.”

“Are you? Someone here?” Rodfos looked about
the waterfront. “Where is he?”

“It’s the man who wants to marry me,” Lenora
lied. “He has followed my brother Erik and me from Denmark. I just
saw him. Will you hide me? It’s only for a little while, just until
he goes away.”

“I’m glad you came to me.” Rodfos hurried her
up the gangplank onto his ship. “You will be safe here. I’m the
only one on board. All my men have gone ashore. Come under the rear
deck.”

Rodfos led her to a part of the ship where
she had never set foot. She had spent most of the trip from Denmark
confined to the ship’s forward deck.

“These are my quarters,” Rodfos said, pulling
aside a red woolen curtain that hid a cozy alcove. “No one will
look for you here.”

The space held only a carved wooden chest and
a bed made of piled-up furs on a wooden shelf. Rodfos went out and
Lenora sank down on the bed. She was still trembling with the shock
of seeing Sven. As soon as it was safe, as soon as Sven had left
the marketplace, she must find Erik and Halfdan and warn them. She
hoped Sven would not find them first.

Rodfos returned with a large pitcher and a
beautiful silver cup filled with mead. He handed it to her and she
drank. He sat beside her on the fur-piled bed.

“Now tell me the truth,” he said.

“I have told you the truth,” Lenora lied
between sips of mead. “Sven wants to marry me, but I do not want
him. Our father died, and now my brother Erik must protect me from
Sven.”

“What about your Uncle Gorm, the merchant who
lives here in Aldeigjuborg? Can’t he make this Sven stay away from
you?”

Lenora met his eyes unwillingly. She tried to
look honest, but she wasn’t sure she was succeeding. The mead,
taken on an empty stomach, was confusing her.

“We have no Uncle Gorm,” she said, tossing
him a small bone of truth. “That was a story we made up. We were
afraid you would refuse to take us aboard your ship, and Sven was
after us.”

“I thought as much. And this Halfdan fellow,
is he your lover?”

“Oh, no.” This time Lenora could meet Rodfos’
gaze with perfect sincerity. “Halfdan wants someone else. A woman
back in Denmark.”

“I see. Drink some more mead, Freydis. You
are still trembling. Are you really so afraid of this Sven?”

“He is a terrible man,” Lenora said with
great seriousness. “He beats women.”

“You think he would beat you?” Rodfos was
sympathetic.

“Probably.” Lenora knew Sven would do worse
than beat her if he ever caught her. She trembled again at the
thought.

“I won’t let him hurt you.” Rodfos’ big hand
rested on her shoulder. He was staring at her in an odd way, as
though he saw someone other than Lenora-Freydis sitting in her
place. “You don’t look very much like her, but you are alike. It’s
the way you hold your head, and your voice.”

“Who?”

“Someone I knew once, long ago, when I was
too young and foolish to fight for what I wanted. She had to marry
someone she feared. She’s dead now. I won’t let that happen to you,
not if I can help you.”

Lenora was suddenly ashamed of the lies she
had told him. Inside this big, gruff half-pirate there was
tenderness and a kind heart. Impulsively, she threw her arms around
his neck, nearly spilling the cup of mead she was still
holding.

“You are a good man, Rodfos.”

“It’s been years since anyone called me that.
Here, now, take your arms away or I’ll forget you are young enough
to be my daughter. Not that that has ever stopped me before. Still,
you are so much like
her
, I’d not harm you. You should save
yourself for some lucky fellow your own age. Youth with youth.”
Rodfos disengaged himself and stepped to the other side of the tiny
cabin, keeping his back to Lenora. “I know I’ll regret this
tomorrow, when I remember how sweet you felt, cuddled against me
like that. Now. Let us talk seriously about this Sven.”

“I hope he has gone from the market. I have
to find Erik and warn him.”

“If Sven has come such a long distance
searching for you,” Rodfos said, “you may be certain he’s not
alone. He may be hoping to kill your brother and his friend and
take you away with him and marry you by force. Freydis, I will try
to help you, but you must be honest with me. What are your
brother’s plans?”

“Erik wants to go to Kiev,” Lenora said,
carefully not adding that Erik did not want her to go with him,
“but he can’t find anyone who is traveling there in the next few
days, and he says it is too dangerous to travel alone.”

“He’s right about that. Yes, if you get out
of Aldeigjuborg and away to the south, Sven might lose your trail.
I’ll see what I can arrange for you. I know a few people here in
Aldeigjuborg. This is what you must do. Find your brother and his
friend and stay at your tent until I come to you. Just be sure Sven
doesn’t see you.”

“I will. But, Rodfos, you don’t know where
we’ve camped.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve been keeping my eye on you,
Freydis. I’ll find you. Now, run along. I have to locate an old
acquaintance of mine.”

That evening Rodfos brought a man to their
tent. Lenora had told Erik and Halfdan about seeing Sven.

“Now that Sven is here,” Halfdan said to
Erik, “and surely Snorri with him, we can’t waste any more time
looking for a ship to Denmark for Lenora and me. We must all leave
for Kiev as soon as possible.”

Erik did not respond to this, though he
looked worried. Lenora, hopeful in spite of her terror of both Sven
and Snorri, had had sense enough not to press Erik. Instead, she
silently occupied herself with preparing and then cleaning up their
dinner.

“This is Torgard,” Rodfos told them, striding
boldly into their camp. “He is taking two boatloads of goods to
Holmgard and then to Kiev. I think you can arrange something
agreeable to everyone.”

Torgard was a nondescript man, of medium
height and medium build with lackluster brown hair, but his pale
blue eyes were bright with intelligence, and as they all learned
later, with cupidity. He made his living transporting goods from
Kiev to Holmgard to Aldeigjuborg and back again.

“The ice has melted at last. The river is
still flooding, but I am leaving tomorrow,” Torgard said. “I’ll get
my goods to Kiev before anyone else. Three of my men were killed in
a brawl yesterday. I will hire you to take their places if you are
willing to do hard work, but I don’t want to take the woman with
me.”

“She’s strong and healthy,” Rodfos said
helpfully. “She could cook for you.”

“I do my own cooking. A woman will only make
trouble.”

“No, I won’t. I’ll keep to myself and I won’t
slow you down. I promise.”

“She is a good traveler, Torgard,” Rodfos put
in. “I had no problem when she was on my ship.”

“Well,” Torgard looked annoyed at this
insistence, “I do need more men, and there are few for hire in
Aldeigjuborg. All right, but I want you to know I’m not happy about
this.” Then, dismissing Lenora with a shrug, Torgard promptly began
discussing the trip to Kiev with Erik and Halfdan.