Wolfskin (53 page)

Her words troubled him deeply. “You can't go on alone, it's not safe for you,” he said. “His men are everywhere, you must have seen them. He heard me accuse him openly and he will not stop until he silences me. As for you, you wouldn't get across the fields, you'd be taken prisoner the first day. I
don't think you fully understand Somerled's purpose: what he may intend for you. He spoke to me of making you his wife, of claiming the royal bloodline for his own sons. It is this he will pursue once he learns you live. I know him.”

Nessa nodded gravely. “I am aware of this. He visited my uncle's hall. He spoke of it quite openly.”

“When?”

“Long ago, when he threatened us with annihilation. My hand was to be part of the price for sparing our people's lives. That gave me many sleepless nights, Eyvi, sleepless nights and troubled days.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” he whispered.

“I wanted to, but I couldn't. It was…it was too hard, I couldn't find the words. It would have been a high price to pay; but I did wonder if I should agree, to save the Folk. Now that I have seen Somerled at work, I know that I was right to refuse. Such a bargain would have won my people only a life of bitter servitude. Besides, I–I knew I could not wed Somerled. I knew it.”

“Because you are a priestess,” Eyvind said, finding again that his voice was not quite obedient to his will. “I understand that.”

Nessa was regarding him very intently. “I could not wed Somerled,” she said again. “I realized it was not possible.”

“Let me come with you,” he blurted out, “let me guard you and help you with this task, whatever it is. I–I thought I'd lost you forever. I can't lose you again.”

“I don't know,” she said slowly. “The task is…it is something I have to do alone, it is a work of magic in which you cannot play a part. But…but if I could have a companion on this journey, save my faithful Guard here, it would be you I would wish for above all others, Eyvi.”

“Can I not at least watch over you, so you can complete the task undisturbed? I would keep you safe. I ask for nothing more than that. Please don't turn your back on me and walk away, not when I can place myself between you and the peril that shadows your steps.”

“What about your own quest, your own task?”

“It can wait.” He knew even as he said it that this was not so.

“I don't know. I, too, dread saying farewell again, lest it truly be the last time. I'm not sure I can bear another loss. We need some guidance in this, a sign. If only Rona were still alive. I miss her wisdom so much.”

“She may be still alive,” Eyvind told her cautiously, “though she did place herself at great risk. She's an old woman, certainly, but there's a core of iron there every bit as strong as your own.”

Nessa's eyes widened. “What do you mean? Don't you know her cottage was burned with everything in it? Somerled's thugs devastated our holy place, laid waste its secrets. An old woman does not survive such an attack.”

Eyvind smiled. “Ah. That was not quite the way of it. She and I, we watched the burning, and it was sad to see her things go up in smoke; that was indeed an act of barbarism. When Somerled's men sought to find us in the howe, I stepped out to confront them, I and the dog, Shadow. My body was still weak, I doubt if I could have fought them off if it had come to that. But they fled in fear, thinking me some ghostly warrior. That night we slept in the howe, and in the morning Shadow was gone, and so was Rona. I don't know where they went, Nessa, but there is at least some cause for hope.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “And I know what she would advise. In the morning, I will cast the bones and see what the signs tell us. Maybe we will go on together; maybe each of us must take a different path. I cannot think of this now; my mind is crowded with other things, my heart is too full to let me see my way clearly.”

Eyvind nodded, thinking her heart and her body could not possibly be full of as many conflicting feelings as his own. He could hardly think straight, so powerful was the longing in him.

“You're exhausted,” he said. “You must sleep. I have no blanket, not even a cloak; still, the wolfskin is warm. Lie down there; I will sleep over at the other side. A warrior is accustomed to a bed on hard earth. Your dog—have you given him a name?”

“Guard, I called him.”

“Guard will listen for intruders, though I think there will be none here; all fear to approach this place.”

“You did not fear it.”

“I was beyond fear, I think, once I thought you were lost. Now I know it again; I can scarcely bear to think of you going on alone.”

“Hush,” Nessa said. “Tonight is time out of time; there is no place for fear tonight.”

“You must rest.” He made himself move away, settle on the earth as far from her as he could go. Not far enough. For him, there would be no sleep; the aching of his body would torment him, her presence would ensure he fought back his desire, moment by moment, until dawn. “I don't like to see you so pale, so troubled. Have you held back your tears all this while, for
those you have lost? You should not fear to weep; it does not make you any less strong, to let your tears flow. Shall I blow out the lamp?”

“Not yet.” Her voice was very small, and wobbled. “Eyvi?”

He waited in silence.

“I feel so lonely,” she said in a whisper. “They are all gone: my family, my people, all of them taken. And I'm tired, but I don't want to sleep, not here in the dark; I don't want to see their dead faces in my dreams.”

He clenched his teeth together, willing himself not to move.

“You remember that night, the first night you woke up, in the tower in the earth? We sat by lamplight then and talked about dreams, and you put your arm around me and held my hand. It was a different sort of time, a time when hurts could be salved and secrets spoken and understood as if…as if…”

“As if the two of us were one.” He said it, despite himself.

“Could we do that again?” she asked him. “Will you stay by me and keep away the visions, just for a little? If you would do that, this might be easier.”

Not for me,
he thought grimly, cursing his own selfishness. What kind of man was he, that he could not suppress his body's urges in order to help a friend? How weak was his self-control, that he could not trust himself to touch without taking?

“Would you, Eyvi?” He could hardly hear her soft voice, and yet he felt it in every corner of his body.

He did not speak, but moved to sit as he had that first night, close by her with his arm around her shoulders and his other hand clasped in hers; her sweet scent filled his nostrils, her warmth flooded into him, and his breathing quickened, despite his best efforts to keep it steady.

“Mmm,” Nessa said, and laid her head on his shoulder. “That's good, Eyvi; that's so good. I did not know how much I had longed for this.” Then she fell silent, and he could tell she was weeping, but he dared not hold her closer, he dared not reach to brush away those tears with his finger, to stop them with his lips, to…no, he would not think of that. His hand clasped hers tightly; he felt his breath escape in a great sigh. The gods were kind, and cruel. They had delivered her to him, safe and well, when he had thought her lost; it was his own fault that he was no longer contented with what he had.

“I'm sorry,” Nessa said after a while. “I didn't know I was going to cry. I'm all right now. Perhaps we should try to sleep.” Still she held his hand; even when he made to get up, she clung to it.

“Perhaps we should,” he said. “You stay here; the wolfskin is the warmest place. I'll go back to the other side.” He got to one knee, seeking to rise, but her hand held him fast.

“No, Eyvi,” she said quietly. “Here, by me.”

His heart lurched. “You don't understand,” he said. “It shames me to say it, but I see I must. I cannot lie here by you, so close, and not—and not—I'm sorry, I wish I could hold you and comfort you and not want you so much, but I have dreamed of you every night since we parted; I have thought of you every waking moment. So now, you see, I must sleep elsewhere…”

She released his hand. He didn't seem to be able to move. He knelt where he was, staring at the ground, full of shame at his own weakness, full of sorrow at what could never be. Nessa was silent a little. When she spoke, her voice was both gentle and sure.

“Eyvi,” she said, “listen to me. There's no saying what tomorrow may bring for us. Maybe flight, maybe captivity, maybe death. I can't tell you about that. All I can tell you is what I'm feeling now. I have never lain with a man; I thought I never would. But my body's aching for you, it has been this long time. I don't want to die without holding you in my arms, flesh to flesh; I don't want to leave this world without doing what a man and a woman do when they love each other. That's all I can say, dear one. Of course, if you think it's better that we don't—”

A sound came out of him, somewhere between an agonized groan of pent-up desire and a snort of astonished laughter. An instant later, she was in his arms, her lips soft on his, parting for him, hungry for him, her hands were making patterns of sweet fire against his skin, and they lay down together on the wolfskin and forgot the world for a while in the fierce joy of coming together. She was new to this, and Eyvind's desire so strong it threatened to rob him of all control. He had thought Signe beautiful, with her lush figure and her fair wholesomeness, and so she had been. But this girl, birch-pale, willow-supple, her long brown hair a tantalizing, silken shawl half-revealing the sweet small curves of her, this lissome woman was his heart's delight. She was his Bright Star, his joy and fulfillment. And he blessed Signe now for the skills she had taught him over those long nights in Freyrsfjord: how to be slow and careful, how to wait, how to make sure he did not hurt her. Such restraint took strength; he found that strength within himself, and it was only when Nessa cried out beneath him, her body trembling in the moment of fulfillment, that Eyvind let himself
plunge over the brink into the darkness of his own pulsing release. They slept close-folded, arms wrapped around each other, legs entwined, breathing as one. Once or twice in the night they stirred, each moving a hand across the other's skin, stroking, touching softly, making quite sure this was not just another cruel dream. And once Nessa whispered,

“Eyvi?”

He stirred, not fully awake. “Mmm?”

“I think this is the first day of spring,” she said, and slept again.

 

His eyes snapped open. In an instant body and mind were aware of danger. Here, inside, was the warmth of Nessa still sleeping, folded in his arms. There, outside, Guard was barking a frenzied warning, and men were raising their voices to be heard over it.

“He's got to be in there! We've tracked him down at last!”

“Good work, lads! Who's going in to fetch him out?”

“Going in? You must be joking.”

No time; he woke Nessa quickly, silently, his hand over her mouth to warn her. She, too, was instantly alert, moving to dress herself, to hunt for her few possessions in the half-dark, to slip her feet into her boots. Morning light came dimly through the tunnelled entry. Nessa's eyes met his, wide with shock, recognizing that this time there was nowhere to run to. Eyvind struggled to keep his expression reassuring. The voices came again.

“What do you suggest, then? We've got to get him out somehow. There'll be a handsome reward in this, boys. Go on, Thorvald. You're a big, strong fellow. It's only a dog.”

“Anyone got a thrusting spear? That thing's no dog, it's a fiend from the Underworld. Take it from a distance, you might have half a chance.”

Nessa's fingers moved to touch Eyvind's in the shadowed silence of the howe. Their hands clasped tightly together. Even if it had been possible to speak, there were no words for this.

“Hang on,” said another voice. “Don't be so ready with your talk of spears. That's Ulf's dog, don't you recognize it? Shouldn't think Somerled would be too pleased if you ran it through like a pig on a spit.”

“Here, give me that hammer of yours,” said another man. “Let me take a shot at the creature.” There was a shuffling followed by a dull thud. The barking ceased abruptly, and Nessa drew in her breath in a little gasp.

“Right. Now let's see you go in, Thorvald. You're the biggest. Fellow's quiet enough; maybe he's still sleeping.”

“Very funny.” Thorvald sounded anything but amused. “Great way to get us all killed. We creep in one by one and he finishes us off one by one with his little knife the moment we come out the other end of that tunnel. This is a Wolfskin, lads, not just another miscreant on the run. You won't see me crawling in there, reward or no reward.”

“Why don't we just wait?” offered somebody. “He's got to run out of food sometime.”

“Stay out here in this place overnight?” This voice was incredulous.

“Smoke,” someone said suddenly. “Make a fire at the entry; there's no hole on top, place'll fill up quick as a flash. He'll have to come out then; if he doesn't, he'll soon fall unconscious and we can go in and get him trussed up before he knows what's what.”

Eyvind bent to touch his lips to Nessa's brow, to stroke her soft hair with his fingers.
Farewell, Bright Star. My hand in yours.
His heart was thundering in his breast. It was apparent to him that there was only one thing he could do.

“Good idea. You've more wit than I gave you credit for, man. Right, let's do it quick. Look around for what'll burn. I see that reward coming closer and closer. Might even be one of those handsome little islander girls in it, who knows?”

Eyvind relinquished Nessa's hand and took up his stolen sword, his small dagger. He motioned again that she must keep silent, pointed to the back of the howe, where she would be least visible to anyone looking in from the entry.
Go there. Hide. Wait.