"'Tis done, Anora," she whispered to her sister. For a moment they both stared off into the distance at the faint outline of land along the horizon. Aye, soon they would be home . . . Hearing footsteps crossing the deck toward them, Gwendolyn turned to face Hakon. Squaring her shoulders, she opened her mouth to speak.
"What is your name, lad?" Hakon spoke first, catching Gwendolyn off guard.
"Uh . . . Ga-Garric, my lord," she stammered. God's blood, she winced, how could she be convincing as a boy if she did not even know her own name? Hoping Hakon had not seen her confusion in the gathering dusk, she ran her hand through her short curls and rushed on boldly. "It is good of you to return us to our homeland, my lord. Our father will reward you greatly."
Hakon sighed. If he had hoped earlier he might win their trust, he knew now that in the next few minutes he would earn only their hatred. "We sail for Norge, lad. There will be no turning back."
Stunned, Gwendolyn could not speak. No turning back. The finality of those words echoed in her mind, and she shook her head in disbelief. Anora had also heard them. Whirling around, she stood numbly beside Gwendolyn.
"But you said earlier . . . you said when we reach shore—"
"Yea, that I did, lad. But I did not mean your homeland."
Wrenching pain lit Anora's eyes, causing Hakon to swear softly. You are growing soft, man, he chided himself. Hardening his heart, he continued. "I am not usually in the habit of making excuses for myself, but in this situation I feel I must. I had no hand in your capture. My ship needed repairs, and we took refuge along the river these past three days."
Nodding toward Svein and Torvald lying on the deck, he added, "Those men acted against my orders, and for this they have been punished. But I cannot return you to your homeland. We have almost a full day of sailing behind us already, and we must make haste to Norge on a matter of grave importance to me." Feeling he had offered enough explanation, Hakon heard his voice grow hard. "The gods have brought you to me, and you must accept your fate. I offer you my protection, and when we reach Norge you will remain with me as slaves in my household."
Gwendolyn's head snapped back, hatred and defiance burning in her eyes. Any hopes she had of fair treatment by this man had been cruelly dashed. "I know naught of your gods," she said disdainfully. "But if it is slaves we shall be, then know this, Viking. You are no different from the two you punished earlier. Aye, even worse, if you hold us against our will!"
"Think what you must, lad, it makes no difference. Slaves you will be—you have no choice." Sighing wearily, Hakon turned from them. "I will bring you furs to sleep on tonight, and some food." He walked away slowly, feeling their eyes upon him. Yea, life could be cruel, he thought, understanding their feelings. Yet he also understood his own.
Anora. Whispering her name, Hakon stood alone at the prow of the ship, gazing into the darkened sky. He was drawn to her as he had never felt drawn to any woman. It was as if her emerald eyes had cast a spell upon him, and he could do nothing to dispel his attraction for her. Yea, even if he had wanted to, he knew now he could not let her go.
Gwendolyn allowed herself only a moment of self-pity before she turned to Anora. Her sister's face was deadly pale in the moonlight, her eyes fixed and devoid of emotion.
"Anora, listen to met" she whispered, suddenly afraid. She had never seen her sister like this before and it frightened her. Shaking her roughly by the shoulders, Gwendolyn forced her to meet her eyes. "Anora, I vow we will return to our homeland, and you to Wulfgar. You must trust me in this. I will find a way for us to escape!"
A flicker of response lighted Anora's eyes. "Promise me, Gwendolyn?" she murmured plaintively, clutching her sister's hand.
"Aye, on my life . . . I promise."
Chapter 12
Gwendolyn rested her head against the side of the ship. If only her stomach would stop its churning, she thought miserably, staring out onto the rolling waves. Nausea swept over her again, and she quickly leaned over the side, retching. A sharp slap on her backside did not ease her condition.
"A fine sailor you would make, Garric!" Hakon shouted at her over the roar of the waves. Gwendolyn felt too ill to retort, her hate tempered by her seasickness. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she stumbled back to the tent that Hakon had erected for Anora near the prow of the ship, trying her best to ignore the grinning, bearded faces of his crew.
Lying on her side and covered by a thick fur to keep out the chill of the wind, Anora had moved little these past two days. Mercifully spared the seasickness, she still had been unable to eat despite Gwendolyn's coaxing and pleading. She had spoken very little, her eyes fixed out on the sea as if searching for something.
"Anora, why do you stare out at the sea?" Gwendolyn asked gently, noting once again that Anora had not touched the food Hakon had brought for her. Feeling her stomach growing queasy at the sight of the salted fish and sour milk, she pushed the wooden platter out of the tent. With only food like that to eat, no wonder she has no appetite, Gwendolyn thought in disgust.
A heavy sigh broke from Anora's throat. That's enough, Gwendolyn decided firmly, concern etched on her face. If Anora did not face up to their situation, she would no more make it to Norge than back to their homeland again! Suddenly she slapped Anora's face.
"Oh!" Anora's hand flew up to her cheek, a startled look lighting her wan features.
"Aye, there, now!" Gwendolyn cried, feeling somewhat guilty for hurting her sister, but glad that she had received some response from her. "Forgive me, Anora, but if I am to make good on my vow, then you must be with me when we reach our home again. I do not wish to face Wulfgar without you!"
"Wulfgar . . ." Anora murmured, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Aye, Wulfgar, the man you will wed one day." Taking Anora's hands, Gwendolyn met her eyes. "Anora, you must be strong, not only for yourself, but for him as well." Gwendolyn had already imagined many times what the scene must have been back at the stronghold when they had not returned. She did not doubt for a moment that Wulfgar and her father would set out to find them, yet how long it would take she could not be sure. Perhaps the Viking ship had been sighted, at least giving them a clue as to their fate.
"You must eat, Anora. You must keep up your strength for whatever lies ahead." Gwendolyn paused, hoping the fear she felt at that moment did not show in her eyes. What would lie ahead for them? she wondered anxiously. She had seen the desire written in the Viking's eyes when he looked upon Anora. Aye, she will have to be strong, Gwendolyn thought grimly, for if Anora could not deny him her body, then she would have to defy him with her spirit. "Do you understand?" she pleaded.
As if reading her mind, Anora nodded her head slowly. "Aye, Gwendolyn, I will try to be strong, no matter what lies ahead." Suddenly a shout went out from high up on the mast, startling them. Whatever the oarsman had said, it increased the commotion aboard the ship tenfold, for there were shouts of excitement and the clatter of feet on the deck as men rushed to and fro.
Stepping out of the tent, Gwendolyn was nearly knocked over by Hakon as he rushed by, yelling orders to his crew. The great sail was being lowered and furled, and the men were readying their oars.
"Stay out of the way, lad, if you do not wish to be knocked overboard!" he said irritably. Suddenly his tone softened as Anora stepped out from behind the leather flap of the tent and stood beside Gwendolyn. "We have reached Sumburgh Voe, in the Shetland Islands. We will stay here for the night, and sail again at dawn."
Thor! She is truly a temptation, Hakon thought appreciatively, the very sight of her stirring his blood. He was glad that she had confined herself to the tent these past days. His men had been without women since they left Dublin, and they were growing increasingly restless. He only hoped there would be enough willing women on the island to satisfy his men's needs before they sailed again on the morrow!
Not missing the heated desire in Hakon's startling blue eyes, Anora glanced sideways at Gwendolyn, meeting her sister's gaze. Aye, she could be strong, if it would bring her back to Wulfgar, she told herself grimly. Nodding, Gwendolyn gave her a faint smile.
With the oarsmen all rowing in unison, it was not long before the longship moved into the well-protected harbor. From this distance it appeared to Gwendolyn that the settlement was quite a large one. She could count at least eight longhouses, and numerous outbuildings scattered about the larger buildings. Leaning along the railing with Anora, she was amazed at the hoards of people lining the shore to greet the Viking ship. Men, women, and children all crowded to get a better view, their faces lighted with excitement and welcome.
Climbing onto the dragon-headed prow, Hakon waved his arm and hailed an exuberant greeting.
Obviously the Viking has been here before, Gwendolyn decided, as she watched him jump from the ship into knee-deep water and wade ashore. A huge, black-bearded man stepped out from the crowd and enveloped him in a massive embrace.
"Hakon, my boy, so you visit us again at last!" the man shouted warmly, giving Hakon a hearty slap on the back.
"You look well, Cousin Einar!" Hakon laughed. "Have you room for some weary travelers?"