Twin Passions(58)

A thrill of excitement coursed through her slender body. Could it be the horns were a signal of greeting to an approaching longship? She stood up and quickly walked the few steps to the open window, leaning on the wide ledge as she looked outside. It was almost as if the very air was charged with anticipation. Viking guards were running by the longhouse, shouting and whooping, some pointing in the direction of the docks. She waved to one of them, a tall, black-bearded warrior, trying to get his attention.

Somewhat taken by surprise that the Jarl's concubine would wish to speak with him, the Viking stopped in his tracks, then strode over to the window. "My lady?" he asked, smiling broadly, his bold eyes raking over her.

Gwendolyn ignored his heated gaze, though a warm blush spread over her cheeks at his frank perusal. "Why have the horns been sounded?" she asked almost breathlessly. "Is there a ship approaching the settlement?"

"Yea, my lady, 'tis Hakon Jarl!" he replied excitedly. "His longship has just been sighted, rounding the bend in the fjord. 'Twill not be long now before it docks!" He looked over his shoulder, the smile disappearing from his bearded face. Several other Viking guards were standing not too far away, watching him. He shifted his feet uncomfortably, anxious to be on his way. He did not wish to be seen speaking overlong to Lord Hakon's woman. Even though it was common knowledge throughout the settlement that she and her fair sister would be soon returned to their homeland in England, they were still under his protection. He turned back to her. "If I may go, my lady?" he muttered, growing more ill at ease with each passing moment.

"Aye. My thanks," Gwendolyn murmured, sensing his obvious discomfort. She dismissed him with a nod. Without even a backward glance, the warrior hurried off down the hillside to rejoin his fellow guards assembling at the docks. She stood at the window for a moment, staring into the distance as her tapered fingers nervously clutched the silken tassel on her belt. Hakon, home at last! She felt a rush of relief to know that he was safe, then a tingling warmth of pleasure as she imagined herself within his strong arms once again. She could hardly wait to tell him of her love!

Anora suddenly rushed into the room, the door opening all the way and slamming against the timbered wall behind it. The loud noise startled Gwendolyn, and she whirled around in surprise.

"Gwendolyn, I have wonderful news!" Anora blurted, her fair skin flushed with excitement. "'Tis Lord Hakon! He has returned! I had just stepped from the cooking house when I heard the horns. Come quickly!" She ran to Gwendolyn's side and grabbed her sister's arm. "The longship is still a good distance away, but if we hurry we can meet it just as it arrives at the docks!"

But Gwendolyn held back, a strange sense of apprehension welling up inside her. Then she shook her head. Nay, she would not allow any worries to plague her this day! She looked down at her clothes, her trembling hands smoothing the pleats of the silken tunic. "But surely I should change into a finer gown, Anora. This one is so plain."

Anora smiled at her sister's self-consciousness. She had never thought she would see the day when Gwendolyn would show the least bit of interest in what she wore!

"'Tis hardly plain, dear sister!" she assured her. "You have never looked lovelier." And, indeed, Gwendolyn was a vision, Anora thought admiringly. She wore a shimmering gray silk chemise that hugged the slender curves of her body, and a vivid blue mantle embroidered with silver threads that heightened the emerald color of her eyes. Aye, her sister had truly blossomed over the past months, which in itself was remarkable, considering the length of her recovery from her awful wound. Her creamy skin glowed with renewed health, and her eyes sparkled warmly. Perhaps it was the babe, Anora thought fleetingly.

"I am sure Wulfgar will find you just as lovely when he sees you again," Gwendolyn replied, looking at her sister. Anora's lustrous hair was growing long once more, and already reached just below her shoulders. She, too, was dressed in a fine silken chemise and tunic. Truly, they had never seen such beautiful clothes as the ones they had been given to wear!

Her observation was instantly rewarded by Anora's radiant smile. "Come, Gwendolyn! 'Tis the moment you have long awaited. Now, we must hurry or we shall miss his arrival!"

"Very well. I am ready," Gwendolyn murmured. She took just a moment to run an ivory comb through her short hair, then threw a light cloak about her shoulders. Together they hurried from the hall.

Gwendolyn's heart felt as if it were in her throat as she and Anora walked side by side down the steep path toward the shoreline. Hakon's longship had not yet reached the docking area. She held up her hand, shielding her eyes from the brightness of the morning sun. The longship looked like a proud serpent as it skimmed across the glistening waters of the fjord toward them.

She gasped as she recognized Hakon's tall figure standing beside the dragon-headed prow. He looked so strong, so magnificent! The brisk wind was rippling through his hair, and his black cloak whipped out behind him. The steel of his broadsword, raised in salute, glinted brightly in the sun.

"Let us stand over there," Anora murmured, nodding her head toward a slight rise in the hill that was just beyond the docks. "We will be close enough for him to see us clearly, but not in the way."

"Aye, that will be fine," Gwendolyn agreed breathlessly, following close behind her sister. She could hardly tear her eyes away from Hakon. She could just now make out the expression on his face. He was smiling, his teeth a flash of white against his bronzed skin. God's blood, he was handsome! More so than she remembered!

A great roar went up from the gathered warriors as the longship slid up against the dock. Their loud, boisterous cries of welcome drowned out the scraping of wooden benches as the crewmen jumped to their feet to secure their oars. Thick ropes were tossed over the side and caught by outstretched hands. It was not long before the mighty ship was moored.

Gwendolyn watched as Olav jumped onto the deck and caught Hakon in a bear hug. Hakon responded in kind, slapping his burly helmsman on the back. Their laughter rang out heartily above the din. The two men stood talking for several moments, seemingly oblivious to the raging commotion about them. The crew began unloading the ship, the muscles in their bare arms bulging as they heaved several large chests up onto the dock.

"Perhaps we should go back to the hall and wait for him to summon us," Gwendolyn murmured suddenly, the same feeling of apprehension that she had felt earlier overwhelming her once again. It was strange, she thought. Hakon had not even looked once in their direction, though they stood alone on the hill in full view of the ship.

"But why?" Anora asked, startled by this suggestion. "Give him a few more moments, Gwendolyn. Surely when he leaves the ship he will see you."

But Gwendolyn did not even hear her words. Her eyes widened as Hakon turned away from Olav and reached out his hand to a small cloaked figure sitting on a nearby rowing bench. She gasped in disbelief as two delicate, white hands pushed away the hood of the cloak, revealing a very pretty young woman with long, flowing hair the color of golden flax. The woman took Hakon's outstretched hand, smiling as he drew her to his side.

"Nay . . ." Gwendolyn murmured in horror. She felt numb to the very core of her being. Nay, this cannot be! her mind screamed, even as she watched in stunned silence. Hakon had found another love!

The young woman's bright laughter carried out across the hillside, piercing through her heart just as surely as the spear had penetrated her shoulder months before. Without another word, she turned and fled up the hill to Hakon's hall, scalding tears dimming her eyes.





Chapter 39





"Gwendolyn, you must eat something," Anora urged softly. "Look, Berta has prepared a wonderful tray for you. There is warm rye bread, goat cheese, and even some of the wild berries you like so well. Please, if you would try just a little . . ." She waited a moment, but there was no response.

Sighing, Anora shook her head sadly. It was useless. Gwendolyn had not moved from the bed since that morning, and it was already past midday. She lay on her side huddled under the fur coverlet, clutching it tightly just below her chin. Her eyes stared fixedly at the timbered wall in front of her.

Anora set the wooden tray on the small table near the bed, then walked to the window and leaned against the ledge. She folded her arms in front of her, hugging her chest. "Damn the Viking!" she swore fiercely under her breath, surprising herself. She had always been the one to chide her sister for using coarse language, but those words truly expressed how she felt at that moment. How she longed for the day when they would be free of this cursed land!

Anora angrily recalled the scene near the docks that morning. She had never seen Gwendolyn look so crushed, as if the very light had gone out of her eyes. And when she had looked toward the longship to see what had upset her so, she hadn't a chance to utter a single word before Gwendolyn left her side, racing as fast as she could up the hill.

She had followed her sister a few moments afterward, even though she heard Lord Hakon's voice call out to them from the longship. She doubted if Gwendolyn had heard him call out her name, and doubted even more that she would have stopped. She had already been lying on the bed, just as she was now, by the time Anora rushed into the chamber.