Goddess of the Sea (25 page)

“Let's get going, girls, before they send out a posse.”

“To whom do you speak, Undine?”

CC let out a little shriek of surprise as the knight materialized out of the fog before her.

“Andras! You scared me.” She felt like her heart might beat its way out of her chest.

But Andras wasn't looking at her. Instead he was walking a tight circle around her, obviously searching the area.

“To whom do you speak, Undine?” he repeated the question more forcefully.

“No one except my feet. I'm afraid you caught me talking to myself.” She smiled and fluttered her hand in front of her face like she was trying to fan away the heat of embarrassment, but her mouth went dry when he turned to her. Had Sarpedon possessed him again? She swallowed down her fear and studied him. His face was a mask of barely contained fury, but no manic silver light glowed from his eyes and his features remained his own. CC felt a surge of relief. She was just dealing with an angry man, not a malevolent spirit.

Automatically, CC took a little half step away from him, but the knight moved forward and roughly took her shoulders in his callused hands.

“Where have you been?” he demanded.

“Nowhere. I just went for a walk.” CC forced herself to meet his furious gaze calmly.

“Alone, as night was falling? Why would you do such a thing?”

CC's thoughts raced as she fabricated an answer. “The bat that came out of the well scared me more than I realized.” She allowed her voice to shake. “You were busy with the abbot, and I really didn't want to interrupt either of you again with my silly fears, but I couldn't stand to be in my room alone, so I thought I would go back to the beautiful beach you showed me today.” She gestured with her head back down the road, and she saw the knight's eyes widen as he recognized the entrance to the path they had taken earlier. CC sent a quick, silent thank-you to Gaea for putting her in a place that lent itself to a ready excuse for being gone so long. “Then this fog came in and I got lost.” She let a little half sob escape her lips. “And it got dark and I didn't think I would ever find my way back.”

Andras studied her face, noticing for the first time the circles that darkened the area under her lovely eyes. She did look exhausted and disconcerted. The princess needed his protection—that was very apparent. And, of course, he wanted very much to protect her. He almost pulled her into his arms, until he noticed that her thick mass of hair was soaking wet, yet it seemed that under his hands her gown was dry. His eyes narrowed.

“How did your hair get so wet?”

Before his sentence was completed the darkened sky opened and a cold rain began to fall, effectively dissipating the fog.

“All of me is wet!” CC said, unable to keep the exasperation from her voice. “It's been a foggy, rainy night.” She wiggled her shoulders. “Andras, you're hurting me.”

Slowly, Andras dropped his hands from her shoulders.

CC hugged herself and shivered. “I'm cold and wet and tired. I've been lost and afraid most of the night, and my feet—who you already heard me talking to—are aching. Now would you like to escort me back to the monastery, or do I have to walk back by myself?”

Silently, the knight held his arm out for her. His look told her that he didn't like what she had said, or the tone in which she had said it, but as she took his arm he didn't comment on her rudeness or reprimand her. Instead he appeared to be deep in thought. CC was glad he wasn't questioning her, but she didn't like the idea of him thinking too much either—at least not about her or her fabrications.

It was raining steadily as they entered the deserted courtyard. CC was careful not to even glance at the well, but she didn't need to look at it to feel its ominous presence. They were almost to her room when the abbot stepped out of the shadows in the dimly lit hall.

“I see you found her, Andras.” He smiled warmly at the knight, but when he turned to face CC, his expression changed to a sneer. “The good knight was worried about you, Princess, as well he should have been. I cannot imagine why you would choose to leave the monastery alone at night.”

Courtesy, she reminded herself. She forced the annoyed sarcasm from her voice.

“I didn't think I was doing anything out of the ordinary. Maybe where I'm from women don't have to worry about being safe if they want to take a walk.” Before either man could press the issue she added. “No! That does not mean that I've remembered anything else about where I'm from—unfortunately. Now if you will excuse me, I need sleep. Please have Isabel come help me get out of this wet dress.”

She started to turn to open her door, but the abbot's voice stopped her.

“Isabel is already within. She is the reason we knew you were missing. When she came to your chamber to assist you, as you had requested, you were not there. She, too, was very worried, and she immediately reported your absence to me.”

CC couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had specifically asked this jerk
not
to send for Isabel. Obviously, he was letting her know that he would be sure she was being watched, no matter what.

“I thought I asked that Isabel not be bothered to wait on me tonight. Perhaps it is because I'm so tired that my memory is not clear. I will apologize to Isabel for having worried her. I'm usually not so inconsiderate.” She gave Andras a tight smile. “Goodnight, Andras. I am sorry that I worried you, too.” Her gaze shifted to the abbot and hardened. “I will be more careful in the future.”

This time she had the door partially open when the priest's question stopped her.

“Princess Undine, what does the name
Wyking
mean to you?”

Wearily, she looked over her shoulder at him. The priest's glittering eyes were locked on her, but CC noticed that Andras wasn't looking at her at all, instead he was staring at Abbot William, and his expression said that the priest's question had come as quite a shock.

The word he had said sounded very much like
Viking
—which made sense, she realized. This was an island and the Vikings had done a lot of raiding during the Middle Ages along the coast of Europe, or at least she thought she remembered that they had. She opened her mouth to quip a fast answer, denying any knowledge of anything, even if the word sounded familiar, but an idea came to her.

Slowly and distinctly CC raised her chin and squared her shoulders, forcing the weariness out of her stance and replacing it with what she hoped was the regal bearing of a princess. She smiled cordially at the priest and said, “If you mean
Viking
,”—she enunciated the word carefully—“to me it means tall, blond, vengeful warriors who do not like it when something that belongs to them is mistreated by another. Good night gentlemen. Even a princess can get tired of answering questions.”

Tall and blond, she stepped gracefully into her room, closing the door securely behind her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE unrelenting ache in CC's body caused her to wake early the next morning. It started in the pit of her stomach and traveled through her in a wave of pain. The distant sounds of the ocean spilled through her window, enticing and tormenting her at the same time. She lay with her eyes closed, breathing deeply and trying to quell her internal torment. Just one more night, she told herself, then she could rest in her natural form—and she could be with Dylan again.

“Dylan,” she whispered the merman's name. Just the sound of it made her stomach flutter.

Last night she hadn't had the opportunity to think about what had happened between them. After her confrontation with Andras and the abbot, she had only been able to keep her eyes open long enough to apologize to a silent, sulking Isabel, get undressed and fall into bed. She thought she might have been asleep before her head had hit the hard, narrow cot.

But this morning she was completely awake. The soft gray of dawn filled her room with a hazy, slate-colored light, reminding her of last night's fog. CC smiled and stretched like a cat, the ache in her body suddenly secondary to the memory of pleasure. She longed to be with him again and not just so that they could make love—although she admitted to herself that she was eager to do that again, too. She wanted to hear his deep, caring voice as he explained the fascinating world beneath the seas to her. And she wanted to make him laugh. She wanted
him
, all of him.

“I love him,” she spoke the words quickly, then covered her mouth like she had betrayed a secret. “Oh, Gaea,” she breathed. “What are we going to do?”

Sitting up, she kicked her legs free from the scratchy blanket. The air force had trained her to act when there was a problem to be solved, not to sit around and worry. That morning she said a silent thank-you for her early crises training. She needed Gaea's help, and a plan to get it was already forming in her military brain. Not wanting to wait until Isabel decided to assist her, she rejected the multi-layered gown. Instead, she pulled on the raw wool robe that Isabel had left in her room and took off all of her jewelry except for Gaea's amulet. Then she rolled up the sleeves of the robe and used one of several long-stranded pearl necklaces as a belt. Satisfied with the results, CC remembered to make her bed before she quietly pulled open the heavy wooden door.

Peering into the hall, she listened intently. Nothing was moving, and no one was making any noise. She tiptoed silently down the hall, glad the soles of her slippers were soft and soundless. When she came to the entrance to the courtyard, she hesitated. No, she thought sternly. She absolutely did not want to chance facing Sarpedon. But she needed to get to the kitchen, and the entrance to the kitchen was on the other side of the dining room, which was on the other side of the courtyard. She closed her eyes and visualized the dining room. There had been, she counted in her head, the entrance from the courtyard, the entrance the servants used that had to lead to and from the kitchen and two others. Opening her eyes she looked down the shadowy hall that led away from the courtyard. It was, after all, a main hallway. It must lead to something that would eventually take her to the kitchen, she decided quickly. She'd definitely rather get lost and bumble into some lecherous monk's bedroom than come face-to-face with Sarpedon.

When the hall came to a T, CC chose the left-handed fork and breathed a sigh of relief when the smell of hot porridge drifted to her. Ahead she could see that the hall turned to the left again, and she thought that from there it would probably empty out into somewhere near the area of the dining room. Happily, she picked up her robe, ready to rush ahead, when she heard the sound of two familiar voices. She slowed, creeping noiselessly forward until she could make out their words, then she stopped, listening intently.

“But a Wyking?” Andras sounded as shocked as he had looked the night before when the priest had mentioned the word. “I would not have thought so.”

“After the news you received last night, how can you doubt it? The heathen have been raiding the shores of the mainland anew. It is simply too coincidental that she was discovered at the same time. She was quite possibly involved in the raiding herself. It is known that the Wykings educate their women, so why not involve them in their plundering, too?”

“It is so difficult for me to believe. Are you certain, Father? She attended mass. And look at her tie to the Blessed Mother—how could one of the heathen be touched so?”

“She is a princess. She could easily have been nursed by a slave who had been captured from our shores. The poor woman probably tried her best to instill within Undine the true religion. You must remember, though, that she refused to take Holy Communion,” he said, self-satisfied and smug. “My son, it was her beauty that deceived you.” The abbot's voice turned warm and fatherly. “From the first I knew that she was evil. Look at the garish show of wealth in which she is swathed, and her unusually tall stature. And remember how outspoken and willful she became last night?”

CC pulled at her bottom lip, sorry she hadn't kept a better hold on her temper the night before.

“And I simply thought of her as exotic and beautiful.”

Even though CC didn't love the knight, she felt stung at the betrayal in his words.

“The heathen mean to entice us to forget ourselves,” came the priest's answer.

“Then my time here has been wasted, and my quest to find a wife who could dower Caer Llion back to its original state of glory has failed.”

CC blinked in shock. Andras was on a wife hunt and her jewels and her title had made Undine look like the perfect prey. She shook her head in self disgust. Why should she be so surprised? Noblemen had been allying themselves with wealth and land for centuries. Actually, arranged marriages were probably the norm for ancient Wales. What would be unusual would be to marry for love. And she had to admit she did feel a sense of relief. The knight didn't love her. Sure, he desired her body, but at least she didn't have to feel guilty for breaking his heart.

“Let us not discard the princess's possibilities too hastily,” continued Abbot William.

“You would have me ally Caer Llion with Norsemen?”

“Perhaps.” CC could hear Andras begin to sputter a response, but the abbot interrupted. “True, the Wyking are heathen murderers, thieves and blackguards, but they have wealth. Caer Llion is far enough inland that you need not worry that her family could appear at your gate, so the alliance would be tenuous at best.”

In other words, CC thought angrily, Andras should just take the money and the girl and run.

“Remember, once she is your wife, she is your property to do with as you so desire.” The abbot's voice was sly. “And she would be beyond the reach of her heathen people. Of course, you would immediately have to correct her willful spirit and be sure that her religious training is completed.”