Time Walkers 2 Book Bundle: The Legend of the Bloodstone, Return of the Pale Feather (Time Walkers 1-2) (54 page)

“Looking for my husband,” she said, stretching her head to peer over the side of the ledge. Winn closed his hand over her wrist.

“You found me. Go back down, I will return soon,” he said. His words were abrupt and his grip on her arm was firm. She noticed Winn glanced at the others, and an unspoken word passed between him and the men.  Whatever man scheming they were up to, she would hear it, whether now or later. With her curiosity speeding into overdrive, she tried to pull her wrist away from Winn.

“What’s down there?” she asked. She stood on her toes and arched her chin over Winn’s shoulder, then pulled back with a gasp when she glimpsed the curve of a ship’s bow. “Was that a ship down there? Did you build it? What–”

“Aye, a ship, my lady.  No need to worry ye, we’ll no sail yet. Yer husband here must grow his sea-legs first before we set out,” Erich answered.  She saw Winn’s jaw tighten and he shot a tense glare at Erich.  Benjamin remained silent, observing from afar, but Marcus intervened in his typical overbearing manner. She was rapidly losing patience with his new disposition.

“Go back down, girl. This is no talk
fer women!” Marcus snapped.

Maggie’s fists shook as she clenched them tight against her sides. He had never spoken to her in such a way before, and she did not like it one bit. First Winn had betrayed her by planning to take Teyas away. Then Marcus treated her as if she had no worth at all. It was much more than her pride could handle.

“Did you
really
just say that to me?” she shrieked. “I’m no
girl
, and I’ll damn well go where I want to, and I— oh, damn it, Winn! Put me down!” she screamed as her husband scooped her into his arms. He spared her the indignity of tossing her over his shoulder, but being carried like a child was just as humiliating. She uttered a slew of curses at him the entire way back to the Long House, where he deposited her, still screeching, into a heap on their bed platform. When he released her, she immediately jumped to her feet, but he took her by both arms and pushed her firmly back down.

“Enough!” he shouted. “You cannot speak to Jarl Dagr like that!”

“Yes, I can!” she insisted.

“Do you have no shame? If you were any other woman—”

“I’ve known him my whole life, I won’t act like he’s some—some King!” she spat.

“He is! He is Chief to these people! He deserves your respect!” He stared hard into her eyes. “You knew him in a different time, in that future you were born to! That means
nothing
when you stand here, in this time! You are no equal to him!”

“And to you? Am I your equal? Or do I mean nothing to you as well?” she asked, glaring at him as her breath came shallow and rapid.

“You are my wife.”

“What if you had been the one to travel, Winn? What if you ended up in my time? Would you just keep your mouth shut and do what everyone else told you, and never ask any questions? I feel like
I have no control of anything, like we could all be killed at any moment, and what can I do about it? Sit here like a fool, waiting for you men to give me
permission
to act!”

“Do you think I would let harm come to you? To our daughter? Have I not proved that to you?” he asked. His voice was strained, she could hear the edge of hurt betrayed in it. She had not meant to question his manhood, yet she could see the mere suggestion grated at him.

“No. I didn’t say that. I just meant—”

“You think I cannot keep you safe in this time. Is it so safe, where you came from, years from now? Are there no wars, no fighting? Do all men live in peace in this wondrous place?” he asked.

She shook her head. How could she make him understand, without wounding him further?

“No, it’s not perfect. But I had a home, one where I felt safe when I slept at night. Men didn’t kill each other without consequence. I never saw such things, until I came here, Winn.”

“Do you wish to return there?”

“No,” she whispered. “Of course not.”

“Then stay here, until I come for you. I will be back. Do not leave this Long House!” he warned.

“Why? Why should I?” she asked. Did her words have no meaning to him, and would he ever truly understand her fears? She doubted it as he tossed yet another ultimatum at her, as if he dared her to challenge him. “Once again, more orders! Why can’t I go to the ridge?”

“Because I tell you to! You need no other reason!” he roared, punching his fist into the furs beside her. She did not flinch, but she struggled to maintain even breaths as he stared into her eyes. He trapped her between his arms, leaning over her on the platform, his eyes wild.

“What are you men hiding up there?” she whispered.

“It does not concern you.”

“Like you taking Teyas away does not concern me?”

She thought she saw a flicker in his gaze, but it was only for a moment.

“Yes. It does not concern you,” he growled.

“You’re taking Teyas away, to be
married
, and you won’t even take me with you? You’re an ass!”

He shoved away from the platform, leaving her panting for air. She watched him stalk to the doorway as if he meant to leave, then abruptly turn back to her.

“You. Will. Be here. When I return,” he said evenly, advancing closer with each uttered syllable. She could see the fire reaching his blue eyes, smoldering beneath his thick dark brows. She raised her chin a notch in defiance.

“I will leave if I want to,” she whispered. He was closer, his chest nearly touching hers when she exhaled.

“Then I will tie you,” he replied. She shuddered.

“Try it,” she said, her words much braver than she actually felt. She regretted taunting him, and wished desperately to take back their discord, yet the damage was done and they were too far gone to stop. His hands darted out for her and she slapped at him, lurching backward to get away. He was quicker, easily catching her, but she was lithe as well and twisted in his grasp until they stumbled onto the platform with a thud.

She felt her hip strike the wood edge and the sting of tears at the pain as the breath rushed from her lungs, his body pinning hers to the furs. Her legs and arms were useless, since this was not the first time they had battled and he knew her tricks well. Her head, however, was still free, and when she shook it she made contact with his with a sickening crack. He let out a frustrated groan and she took the opportunity to scramble away. She turned onto her belly and crawled further from him, but he yanked her back a moment later, dashing her escape. He tossed her over onto her back and held her with one hand, glaring at her as blood dripped from his eyebrow.

“Are you finished?” he growled. She was panting shallow, trying to catch her breath.

“Get off of me!”

“No,” he replied, his breaths coming hard and fast. She felt him shift, his weight full on hers. He was rapidly becoming aroused, she could feel him against her thigh through their thin garments. As much as she would like to end their argument, the thought caused her fury to rise further.  Did he think he could silence her with sex?

“Tie me up then, if you must. Just do it, and go,” she whispered, her words bold with meaning yet lacking in emphasis. She saw the corner of his mouth twitch, and although he did not smile, his eyes clouded with heat as he adjusted his hips upon hers.

She closed her eyes when he pulled the cord from her waist and used it to bind her wrists, leaving her hands tied above her head with her
gunna gaping loose. The breeze whispered on her skin when his fingers traced a shallow path down one breast, and she shivered at the contact.

“I think I should bind your legs as well,” he said. He ran one hand down her thigh and then back up, pulling her leg up by the knee toward her chest.

“Stop it, Winn,” she said, shifting her hips and feeling a surge of desire spread through her traitorous body. He groaned at her movement and shook his head, and she felt him shed his braies. He plucked at the strings of her gunna and quickly gave up, tearing it down the middle so that he could bury his mouth upon her aching breasts. She arched to meet his lips with a cry, her bound hands coming down around his neck to hold him as he paid worship to her.  He pummeled the barriers between them with his need, silencing any remnant of protest, until she screamed his name and begged him never to stop.

They fought like that, flesh upon flesh, seeking consolation in release, yet nowhere near satiated as they lay entwined afterward. She rested her bound hands against him, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he lay quietly beside her. Should she breach the silence, or not? She knew nothing of how to mend the tension between them.

Suddenly Winn sat up and moved away from her, resting his arms over his knees as he looked toward the door. She stared at the outline of his sculpted back.

“They expect me to return.”

“Then go,” she said softly. She saw his shoulders sag as he let out a shallow sigh. From where she lay beside him on the furs, she could not see his face, but she could see his head bowed onto his knees and the outline of his tense jaw. “Take Teyas away. Keep your secrets. I’m just your wife. I know what that means.”

His back stiffened.

“You break me, wife,” he said, his voice hoarse and low as he turned back to her. His eyes shimmered beneath narrowed brows. “You know what it means? It means I want you, as I want water when my lips thirst. As I want food when I have hunger. But this need, this need I have for you—it breaks me. It takes the breath from my chest. It drains the blood from my veins and the spirit from my soul. I cannot be, unless I can be here with you, like this. With our flesh touching and your heart beating here, against mine. I cannot
be
, not without you.”

He took her wrists in his hands and slowly unwound the binding. The cord dropped to the furs beside them. His thick lashes lowered over his gleaming eyes as he stared at her hands resting in his.

“Rage if you must. Do it here. I will return soon.”

She watched him fasten his braies. He left the Long House without another glance in her direction, closing the door behind him. 

Winn

He found the men where he left them at the crest of the hill. Erich sat alone on a flat rock, idly grinding a stick into a point as he watched the others. He raised an eyebrow at Winn as he approached.

“Settled things, did ye?” Erich said. 

“Yes. What has Jarl Dagr decided?” Winn replied, giving his wife’s uncle a nod. He hoped by returning to the conversation at hand, Maggie’s behavior would be dismissed. He was certainly in no mood to discuss it further.

“Nothing yet. I think he waits for ye. Wipe yer head, lad.”

Winn ran the back of his hand over his brow with a scowl, wiping off the smeared dark blood as Erich grinned.
Damn that woman
.

“She has a temper like her mother, that one,” Erich said.

“So I should thank your
MacMhaolian
blood for that?” Winn snapped, his words terse despite the attempt to curtail his annoyance. Eric shook his head as he chuckled.

“Well, perhaps not all of it. Her father had a bit of rage to him at times.”

It was the first time anyone had directly spoken of Maggie’s parents in his presence. With his curiosity wearing stronger than his frustration, he focused on his wife’s uncle. For a man who claimed to love his sister, he spoke little of the woman, and it only made sense to Winn that Erich wished to hide something.

“
Esa was your sister, but who was my wife’s father? Was he of this tribe as well?” Winn asked. Erich nodded a bit to himself at the question, letting out a long sigh as he considered the ground at his feet.

“My sister was a headstrong woman. I know you see how speaking sense to one like that might not work,” Erich said. His gaze shifted to meet Winn’s, his green eyes seeming hallowed under the depths of his brows, as if the words pained him. “She met Agnarr at a gathering, but he
dinna tell her who he was.  By the time we knew, it was too late. She was breeding his child. I should have killed him the day we found out, but I dinna. Dagr and I had too much to think on right then, my headstrong sister the least of it, with yer raving uncle calling for all our heads.”

“Did Opechancanough kill Maggie’s father?” Winn asked, hungry for more of the tale.

“No. When I sent Esa away with Dagr, he took his people and left, I know not where he went. Better off. We have no need of his kind,” Erich muttered. The older man waved at Winn, as if dismissal.

“What kind is that?”

“A worthless
lucht
, that’s his kind. Best keep that to yerself, no need for wee Maggie to hear of it. No sense having her chase the dead.”

“So you know he is dead?”

“He must be. Or he would have come fer Maggie by now,” Erich said quietly. He shook his head back and forth like a wet dog, muttering to himself in his native Norse tongue. “Go see to yer Chief. He waits for your return.” The older man ended the conversation, putting a clear obstruction up to further inquiry.

Winn knew there was much more to the story than the few tidbits he gleaned from Maggie’s uncle, and he made note to follow through on it with his father. For such a loyal clan, they surely had their secrets. Winn looked toward the peak of the hill where his father spoke with the others.

Marcus and Benjamin stood talking with an older man he did not know.  He was shorter in stature, dressed like the other Norsemen, with long muddy brown hair tied back at his nape. Although he differed in stature, he held the bearing of a seasoned warrior as he spoke with Marcus, staring boldly at his Chief in a borderline defiant manner.

“Who is that man?” Winn asked with his eyes fixed on the stranger.

“Oh, Old Ivar? He is the last of Chief Drustan’s men. He served yer Da’s father well, but I fear he longs too much for the old ways. He wants to sail to Vinland, no matter what the cost,” Erich replied.

“He seems angered.”

“Aye. He questions the story Dagr tells of the future. He bids to take the ship and sail nonetheless. Do ye think it’s all true? Are the colonies really gone from Vinland?”

Both Maggie and Marcus had relayed tales of the future. Winn knew how painful it was to hear of the demise of the life he was born to. Knowledge of the future was a tricky thing, and the tales could not be taken back once told. Apparently, Ivar was having difficulty hearing the Norse colonies no longer existed in Vinland. In fact, the Norse colony in Vinland had been abandoned more than two hundred years before.

“The Chief has no cause to lie. Maggie tells the same story, it is well known in the time they traveled from. Both Vinland and Greenland are abandoned.”

“So that means there is no colony to return to. We’ve waited too long to return to our own lands, and we have built this ship for naught.” Erich stabbed the pointed stick into the ground at his feet and stood up. “Thank Odin Jarl Dagr returned. He’s a bloody fool
fer using that
Gothi
magic, but he saved our people from certain death by it. Without him we surely would be adrift, looking for a home no longer there.”

“Will you stay here?” Winn asked.

“If Dagr thinks we must. I care naught as long as our kin is safe and we have food in our bellies. I’m getting too old for new adventures, no less. Aye, I can be a farmer, like the Englishmen.”

Winn glanced over at Marcus. The men had listened to his tales of the future, but he could see the unease in their faces as they
regarded their Chief.  Even Benjamin looked disturbed. When the men had gathered on the ridge to meet with the Chief, Benjamin had kept a careful distance. One son to the right, one to the left. Winn would respect their customs, as he had learned to do throughout the years, yet suddenly it had become much more than regard for another man’s beliefs. There was a part of him that wished for the kinship, to have a duty and purpose to his own people again. The last of the Paspahegh had been settled among other tribes, yet Winn and his family drifted from place to place seeking a home.

If not for Benjamin, Winn could see forming an alliance with the Norse. He had grown a grudging respect for Marcus, despite their differences, and Winn knew the man would protect his family to the death. Yet living alongside Benjamin was something he could not do. How could he live peacefully with his brother, the man who had stolen his wife and left him for dead? Even if Maggie had forgiven him, Winn feared he did not have it in his blood to move on.

“Winn, a word with ye?”

Marcus approached, leaving Benjamin with the others. With a glance at Marcus, Erich stood and joined the group, giving them privacy. Winn saw something pass between the two men. It was a quick dip of Erich’s chin, and the hardening of Marcus’s jaw, slight yet noticeable.

“You will not let them sail, will you?” Winn asked. Marcus shook his head.

“No. The colonies are long gone. We must make our future here, in this land. We’ve been farmers before, we can do it again.” Marcus waved Winn to sit, and then joined him on the log. His father sat with his hands braced on his knees for a moment, staring ahead at the other men gathered overlooking the inlet.

“I must tell ye something of the future, and ye must listen to me,” Marcus said.

“Then speak. The men wait for you,” Winn replied.

“We took Maggie’s mother away to protect her. Maggie bears the last blood of the most powerful
Gothi
, she is the key to keeping the blood alive. Old Malcolm and I thought someday she would wed my son, and the
Gothi
blood would live on through them.”

“A fine plan,” Winn snorted. “And the wrong son found her.”

“Nay, not the wrong son. It turned out different than we planned, but it was meant for this way. That blasted woman fell through time to find ye, if that is not destiny, I know not what is.”

Winn pushed his doubts aside for the moment.

“I told ye I found records. That’s how I found ye. What I dinna tell ye was I know when we all meet our end.” 

“Do not tell me of our ends,” Winn said quietly.

“But I must.”

“No,” Winn growled, glaring at his father. “What good comes of such knowledge?”

“The good of saving her,” Marcus replied. “If you take her back to the tribes, even the Nansemond, Maggie will die. Your uncle will see her dead, I know this.”

“I do not believe you. My Weroance gave us his blessing. He let her go, when he could have killed her. I have served him faithfully—there is no cause for him to harm her!” Winn shouted, rising to his feet. The others looked back at them curiously, but maintained their distance, the interest evident on their faces.

“You must believe me. I found a story of her death at the hands of Opechancanough. I know not when, but I believe the tale. Leave her here. Stay with these people, make your life here. I beg you, do not return to them.”

Marcus stood as well, running a hand through his hair then settling to clutch the nape of his neck.  His father’s eyes, so similar to his own, were fatigued.

Could his tale be true? Had Winn served his uncle all this time, to see his uncle harm his wife in the end? He would not believe it. Especially coming from Marcus, how could he trust him? Perhaps his father meant to keep Winn and his family close with more lies.

“In the future, family and blood mean very little, not like it does here.  Now, in this time, to these people, her blood means everything. To have back that which we always protected, when we
thought it lost? It gives them purpose again, something we all must have. Do ye know, son, what power she has? What lies in yer daughter’s blood? The blooded
MacMhaolians
have saved our people more than once, and that magic is our secret to guard,” Marcus said, his gaze focused like a brand into Winn’s.

“There are those that will come for her. I know not when, but I know they will come. They always have, no matter what time our people flee to. I know ye must feel like ye have no choice, son, but ye do. I ask ye to
chose us. Take yer place at my side, let these people be yer own.”

His father dropped his hands to his sides and turned away, his brows sheltering his stark grayed eyes.

“I will keep them safe. There is nothing for you to worry on,” Winn finally answered. “Speak to your men. They wait for your word.”

Winn waved his arm at the group of men, and Marcus turned to them. They joined the others without discussing it further.