Viking Passion (32 page)

A dark, laughing face appeared at the side of
the boat.

“Move to the other side, Maura, and balance
my weight while I get in,” Erik said.

He swung a leg over and then lay dripping in
the bottom of the boat, convulsed with laughter. Blood streamed
from a cut on his leg. Lenora dabbed at it with the hem of her
skirt.

“I lost a good sword blade, but it was worth
it. You should have seen Snorri’s face. He had no idea what was
happening.”

“They’ll be after us, Erik,” Lenora said.

He sobered at once, moving to her side. “Give
me the tiller, Lenora. Row until we’re in midstream.”

It took only a few strokes before the current
caught them once more, moving them ever more quickly toward the
foaming white water Lenora could see ahead.

“Erik, you said we had to make a portage
around this stretch of river.”

“Not with Snorri so close. Tie down
everything you can and sit in the middle of the boat. Hold on
tightly.”

Lenora hurried to do his bidding. Maura’s
face was so white with fear, it was almost green. She tried to help
Lenora, but her hands were shaking too much.

“We can’t do this,” she cried.

“If you want to go back to Snorri, I’ll put
you ashore,” Erik offered.

Pressing her lips firmly together, Maura
shook her head and set to work. Once their gear was arranged as
safely as possible, she sat down in front of Lenora and clutched
the side of the boat.

There was no time to do or say anything more.
They had reached the rapids and the noise of the river filled their
ears. They were hurtled through a granite gorge, water roaring
around them as it foamed and dashed against the rocks scattered
about the river.

Erik navigated with great skill, but he could
do little more than aim the boat. They brushed against a rock,
tilted, swung away, and continued their wild ride downriver. Lenora
was certain the boat would be broken into pieces against the rocks;
the only question was when.

The noise grew louder. It echoed and
re-echoed against the granite walls around them. Surely the water
was moving even faster now. Lenora felt as if she was sliding
downhill, unable to stop herself. She heard Erik shout something,
but she could not understand the words.

Suddenly, there was an abrupt downward drop,
a rush of sound and white water, and the boat seemed to sail
through the air.

She was falling and she heard someone scream.
She hit the water so hard it knocked the breath out of her. As she
sank through endless fathoms of cold, black water, Lenora knew she
would sink forever.

Something touched Lenora, wrapped around her
ankle, and pulled her. She fought, but it would not let her go. She
emerged into sunlight, spluttering and coughing, beating with her
fists against the thing that pulled her back.

Erik let go of her ankle. He caught her hair
and swam to shore, dragging her after him. Then he heaved her onto
rocky land and left her.

As she struggled to rise, coughing up the
water she had swallowed, Lenora saw Erik swimming toward her with
Maura’s motionless form. Their boat bobbed, hull up, a short
distance away.

Erik thrust Maura at her and set out again
for the boat. Lenora dragged Maura out of the water, laying her on
the rough beach.

Maura opened her eyes, then closed them
again. There was a large blue bruise on one side of her
forehead.

“You have to sit up,” Lenora urged. She tried
to pull Maura upright, but found she was suddenly too weak. She
slumped beside the unconscious woman.

Erik had the boat nearly beached and was
standing in the water, trying to turn it right-side up. Lenora
gathered all of her strength and went to help him. They were both
shivering from the cold water and the shock. Somehow, after many
attempts, they righted the craft. Miraculously, two of their
bundles of belongings, the one remaining sword, and the oars and
sail remained, securely lashed into the hold.

“Everything is soaked,” Lenora said.

“We’ll attend to that later. We can’t stay
here. Snorri’s men will come around the rapids by land. I’m too
tired to fight again today.”

Lenora looked up at the cataract pouring
foamy white water into the pool where they had fallen. Viewed from
this angle, its height made her dizzy.

“It’s hard to believe we went over that and
lived,” she said.

“Luck,” Erik replied, managing a smile for
her. “So far ours has held. Let’s bail out the boat and be on our
way before Snorri arrives.”

By the time they had finished and Lenora had
at last bandaged Erik’s wounded leg, satisfying herself it was
nothing serious, Maura was sitting up on the beach, looking
bewildered. When Erik picked her up she clung to him, weeping.

“No more rapids,” she cried. “I can’t bear
any more.”

“Only a little farther,” Erik assured her.
“Just a short distance from here the river is calm again.” He
lowered her gently into the boat and helped Lenora to get in.

As Erik had promised, it was not very long
before the river became calmer, widening into a lake-like body of
sparkling blue. They stopped briefly to restep the mast and unfurl
the wet and heavy sail. It soon dried in the hot wind. They sailed
until evening.

When they finally stopped, Erik had to lift
Maura out of the boat. She was weak and unable to stand. The bruise
on her forehead showed dark blue against her pale skin.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You are both so
brave, and I’m no use to you. You should leave me behind.”

“You are just tired,” Erik told her. “You’ll
feel better tomorrow.”

They did not make a fire, not wanting to
attract attention. Maura ate a bit of soggy bread and drank some
ale, then drifted into a feverish sleep. Lenora had coaxed her into
removing her wet clothes and wrapping herself in a large piece of
wool. Lenora took off her own soaked clothing and spread the
garments on the ground, hoping they would dry overnight.

She lay wrapped in a damp woolen cloak,
staring up at the brilliant stars. Erik sat down beside her. She
could just see his shape outlined against the sky.

“What do you think Snorri will do now?” she
asked.

“He probably sent men overland right away to
see if we survived the cataract. When they don’t find our bodies he
will surely search farther. It will take his men at least two days
to move their boats and supplies around the rapids. Snorri’s wound
may be severe enough to stop them for a day, not more. So we have
gained a little time.”

“He will follow us all the way to Miklagard.”
It was not a question, for Lenora already knew the answer.

“For that silver, which he thinks is rightly
his, Snorri would follow us to the ends of the earth.”

“We will never be safe so long as he
lives.”

“I know.” Erik sighed. “Were he anyone else,
I would kill him with pleasure. And yet, he is still my brother, my
father’s son. I wish there were some other way.”

She felt his hand on her shoulder.

“Come with me,” he urged softly. “Just a
little distance away. It is safe here, and Maura is asleep.”

She rose and followed his shadowy form. When
he stopped he took the cloak from her shoulders and spread it on
the ground. The rug he had wrapped about himself followed, making a
bed on the grass.

They stood naked and silver-pale in the dim
starshine. The dry steppe breeze blew softly upon them, brushing
their skins with its tender summer-night warmth.

Erik’s hands slipped lightly along her
shoulders and down her arms, barely touching her. He caught her
hands and raised them to his lips. As he kissed each finger and
then the palm of each hand, she felt a warmth radiating from his
mouth, spreading up her arms and suffusing her body with tingling
delight. He pulled her hands around his waist, drawing her against
him. Slowly his arms encircled her. His embrace tightened as his
mouth met hers.

Nothing had changed. They had been separate
from each other for more than four cycles of the moon, but it was
as though that time and all that had happened during it was
nonexistent. She remembered every detail of his body, as he
remembered hers. She touched the scar on his left shoulder and the
shorter scar over his eyebrow, then ran her fingers through his
thick dark hair. She knew just where to touch him, what to do to
please him.

His mouth was hard, as it had always been,
and sweet, and when his tongue slid into her she moaned with
joy.

They sank down upon her cloak, still locked
in that endless kiss. His hands caressed her breasts, teasing and
enticing. Pulling his mouth away from hers at last, he scattered
kisses of sweet fire over her face and eyes and throat. He
encouraged her eager response until she cried out, then stopped her
cries with his lips.

“Don’t wake Maura,” he teased between hungry
kisses. “We’d have to stop.”

“I couldn’t stop and neither could you,” she
whispered. The glorious, demanding need was rising in her. It could
not be denied; it would be assuaged or she would die of it.

His eyes glinted with starlight when he
raised his head to take her mouth again. Then his hands and lips
began to move ever lower, while he caressed her breasts until they
ached, then inscribed wide circles across her abdomen, stroking her
smooth, eagerly responsive skin with such inflammatory effect she
had to choke back a scream. At last he found the sensitive, secret
spot for which he had been so lovingly searching. There he
lingered, knowing well what to do, until she was nearly mad with
longing, writhing and twisting and gasping in unrestrained ecstasy,
not caring now who might hear her cries.

“I want you,” she moaned. “No one but you.
Tell me you feel the same.”

His shadow rose above her, blotting out the
stars. A moment later they were no longer separate. He was hers,
all, entirely hers, and she was his. She would never belong to
anyone else. Only Erik; only Erik. Her heart was his, and it nearly
burst with joy as he cried out his need for her and his unending
desire.

“I’ll never stop wanting you, Lenora.
Never.”

The stars spun through the night sky, then
blurred and faded. The bearded shadow above her was all that
existed in the world, their blended bodies the source of all
delight.

The painful past disappeared, vanished like
gossamer smoke. Let Snorri pursue them; he did not matter. The
dangers of the voyage yet to come did not matter, nothing else, no
one else mattered. Only Erik.

As their lips met in a climactic kiss, and
earth and sky paused for a brief, tense moment before the joyous
explosion of their mutual rapture, Lenora knew Erik was all she had
ever wanted or ever would want until the very end of her life.

* * *

Lenora opened her eyes. Over her head,
against the background of a clear blue sky, a tiny yellow butterfly
fluttered and danced. She smiled at it, stretching in delicious
satisfaction. After a moment she sat up, looking around her. The
calm river glittered in the early morning sunlight, like a child
who has worn itself out with tantrums and will now be good for a
while. Maura was washing her face by the water’s edge. Lenora’s
glance skimmed past the woman to settle on the man a little
distance away. Erik was examining the hull of their boat, checking
for damage inflicted by rocks and cataracts. Seeing his intense
concentration on his task, Lenora smiled again.

She stood, not caring that she was naked,
enjoying the sensation of the warm breeze against her skin. With
the proud carriage of a woman who knows she is desired, she walked
toward Erik. She had nearly reached him when he looked up and saw
her. His eyes wandered over her, appreciating every curve and line
of her body, his expression acknowledging that this display was for
him alone.

“One day,” he said, “I will see you gowned in
silks and wearing jewels, but you will never be more beautiful than
you are now.”

“If I am beautiful, it is your doing.”

It did not matter that her clothes were still
damp and uncomfortable from their dowsing in the river. It made no
difference that their morning meal was stale bread and flat, sour
ale, that searing heat quickly followed the early morning coolness,
that swarms of insects rose, stinging them or flying into ears and
eyes and mouths, that the ceaseless steppe wind began to blow,
bringing sand and dust to add to their physical discomfort. To
Lenora the world was beautiful; the day was perfect.

Maura declared herself nearly recovered from
the previous day’s injuries.

“My head aches, that’s all,” she told Lenora.
“I don’t remember much of what happened except that I was
afraid.”

“We went over a waterfall. Erik thinks you
hit your head on a rock. He saved both our lives.”

“You are so brave. I wish I weren’t such a
coward. I used to have courage, but ever since Snorri killed my
family I’m frightened all the time.”

Later in the day they came to a large island,
where several heavily laden boats had been pulled out of the water
near a cluster of tents. As they beached their own boat, a
bare-chested, blond man strode forward to greet them.

“Welcome to St. Gregory’s Island,” he said to
Erik. “I hope you are an honest merchant.”

“I am traveling to Miklagard and mean no harm
to anyone.”

“Perhaps you would like to join us? We are
sailing soon. We were with the main fleet from Kiev, but some of
our men were badly injured when the Khazars attacked us, and we
decided to rest here to recover. The last section of the river is
safer than the part that has gone before, but there are still
dangers. It is always wiser to travel in a large group. I am
surprised to see you with only one boat.”