Twin Passions (42 page)

Thankfully the sickness was over now, Gwendolyn thought
as she
lay
her hands gently over her stomach. It was
still flat, only perhaps slightly rounded near the center. She reveled in the
knowledge that she carried Hakon's child within her. It was one more link that
bound them together. Yet she had made Anora swear not to say a word to
anyone,
and especially not to Hakon when he returned. Aye,
it was her secret. Hakon would learn of it from her lips alone.

Yet despite the happiness she felt about the child, it
had not served to make the days go by any faster. The settlement had become
completely snowbound. And though narrow paths had been dug out between the
longhouses, it had been deemed unsafe for her and Anora to venture outside.

But there had been a few bright spots to relieve the
boredom of their wintry confinement. A loom was set up in Hakon's chamber for
them, accompanied by sacks of fine yarns, though Gwendolyn found little
pleasure in that. It was Anora who spent many contented hours working on a
beautiful tapestry, and stitching delicate embroidery with silken threads of
every hue.

Nay, it was Berta who had truly enlivened their days.
She had spent a great deal of time with them, once she had gotten over her
initial shock at their true identity. Her countless ribald stories of her past,
when she had been a young serving wench in the service of Magnus Haardrad's
household, Hakon's lusty father, had both embarrassed and amused them. She had
also seen to it that they had plenty of well-prepared food to eat. Gwendolyn
sometimes wondered if perhaps Berta had somehow guessed her secret from the
constant, prying questions about her health. But she had simply smiled,
assuring the kindly woman that she had never felt better.

And occasionally Olav had come to visit. At first he
never stayed but a few moments, just long enough to inquire gruffly after their
well-being. But eventually he had spent several afternoons in their company,
seemingly delighted to sit and chat with two such lovely maidens. He told them
entrancing tales of the sea, and of his boyhood home far to the north of
Trondheim, where he had tamed strange, wild creatures called reindeer.

Yet, when pressed for any news of Hakon's expected
return, Olav had always grown silent, saying only that perhaps the fierce
winter weather had kept him from sailing homeward. Gwendolyn had not missed the
worried expression in his eyes, though he had done his best to hide it. His
apprehension had not helped to ease
her own
mind in
the least.

The haunting sound of the great horns brought Gwendolyn
suddenly out of her reverie. She sat forward in the chair, listening, her heart
pounding furiously against her breast. The rich tones echoed about the steep
hillsides surrounding the settlement, surging, crescendoing.

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.

A sudden knock at the door broke into her thoughts. "Who
is there?" she said irritably, venting her frustration at whoever waited
outside.

"Hakon."

Anora's hand flew to her throat. She glanced quickly
over at the bed, but Gwendolyn had not stirred. She hurried to the door and
opened it just a crack. "My lord?" she queried tersely, though a
shiver of fear coursed through her. She had forgotten how tall and broad he
was!

"I wish to speak with you both," he replied
evenly, his eyes meeting hers through the narrow opening.

"'Tis not possible, my lord. Gwendolyn is not
feeling well —"

"
Nay,
let him enter,"
Gwendolyn's determined voice interrupted her. Anora whirled
around,
surprised to see her sister had moved silently from the bed to the chair near
the window. She opened her mouth to protest, but Gwendolyn shook her head.

"'Tis all right, Anora. Let us hear what Lord
Hakon has to say," she murmured steadily, belying the turmoil raging
within her.