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“Yes, it is a day that would please Freyr, as well as me. Now get up from that bed without any more delay.”
“Who might this Freyr be that he cares so much for the weather?” she asked sweetly, still making no move to leave his bed.
Laughing at her ignorance, he forgot his impatience as he explained. “He is the god of sunshine, as well as rain, the giver of peace and plenty. Do you know nothing of our gods?”
She licked her lips with an enticing subtlety. “I have heard the name, but you have so many gods, while we have but one, so it is quite natural that I would become confused.”
“Only one god to aid man with all his troubles?” He was now in a teasing mood as he walked back toward his bed. “He must be very powerful then, to take responsibility for so much.”
“Indeed he is, but I do not consider his name a matter for jest, and neither should you,” she cautioned seriously, for truly she considered the great difference in their faiths not a suitable matter for casual discussion.
“What I will choose to laugh at next is you riding astride your mare nude, for if you do not hasten to dress I will take you with me as you are.” The gleam in his eye turned wicked as he reached for the pelt covering her slender figure, but at the last instant he did not jerk it away.
For some reason his threat held little to frighten her, but she rose from his bed. Taking the long gray gown that still lay where he had tossed it the night before, she drew it over her head. “There, does this please you?” She combed her tangled curls with her fingers, giving her hair little thought, since it would blow about in the wind as they rode.
“No!” Disgusted at her pathetic appearance, Mylan pulled his knife from his belt, knelt at her feet, then took hold of her hem. “I can at least shorten this ugly garment so you no longer stumble as you walk, but I’m not happy to see you in it again.” Her splendid figure deserved to be clothed as beautifully as possible, and he was sorry he had so few alternatives to offer.
She turned as he worked swiftly to cut several inches from the bottom of the long gown. He was so close she could not resist reaching out to touch his golden curls lightly, her caress a fond one, but he looked up so suddenly she drew her hand away.
“Do not try and distract me. I mean for us to go riding.” Handing her the excess material, He rose to his feet, and shoved his dagger back under his belt. “I will saddle our mounts. Use my comb on your hair, as it needs it badly.” Scowling, he turned and left without a backward glance, and she had no idea why she had displeased him now when he had enjoyed her touch so much the previous evening.
By the time he was ready to depart, she had had sufficient time to prepare. She had braided her hair into a single plait that reached her waist, and had used the scrap from the bottom of her gown to fashion a belt. She looked exactly like what she was, the loveliest of young women clad in totally unsuitable garb, but she was looking forward to going riding and smiled warmly as she leapt upon the gentle mare’s back. “Where is it we’re bound, Mylan? Perhaps if there is time I can gather branches for my weapons.”
Laughing at her insistence that she needed weapons for a sport that sent her into a faint, he teased her again. “I’ll not have you hunting, not when you faint at the sight of a drawn bow.”
“It was not the bow but you who frightened me. Must you be so mean?” Lacing her mare’s reins through her fingers, she pretended to pay him scant attention while she peeked at him through the veil of her long lashes. He seemed to grow more handsome each time she saw him, and she thought that most unfair since she had not the benefit of even one nice gown to help her win his affections.
“You must cease to worry that I’ll slay you when you would be so highly profitable to sell.” The instant those words left his lips he regretted them. The pain that filled the pretty woman’s eyes was tinged with such furious anger, he knew he had made a grave error in repeating what he knew to be a lie. Striking his mount’s flanks lightly with his heels, he set their pace at a brisk canter, giving her no opportunity to make the hostile reply he knew she was about to speak.
The wind stung her eyes, but she forced back her tears. So she was to be reminded constantly that she was his slave! How could she have been so foolish as to have believed their relationship had changed when it so obviously hadn’t? He regarded her as a piece of property, no different from the land over which they rode or the mound of furs upon which they had slept. His jest had sickened her thoroughly. She had hoped he would have more consideration for her feelings, but perhaps only his own were important to him. Yet when next he spoke, he seemed so seriously interested in confiding in her that she began to wonder if perhaps she had only imagined that his comment on her status had been an insult.
Mylan drew his stallion to a halt beneath a stand of linden trees and motioned for Celiese to come close. “The stream provides sufficient water for growing grain, the land is fertile, the crops plentiful, but I find myself too restless here to enjoy the peace this farm should afford. It is a prison without walls, not the pleasant sanctuary a home should be.”
Surprised by the sudden change in his mood, she nevertheless responded in as serious a tone as he, “I do not believe it is a home you crave, but the freedom to seek your destiny elsewhere. Only you know what desires lay hidden in your heart, but you should simply live the life you long to live with no further thought of the drudgery this farm requires to maintain.”
“Drudgery, is it?” He smiled at her term. “Torture is nearer the truth, but you do not understand, Celiese.” Dismounting, he walked around to her side, placing his hands around her narrow waist to help her down. Taking her hand in his, he led her to the smooth grass beneath the trees and pulled her down beside him in the shade, leaving their mounts to graze undisturbed nearby.
“If I were content to sail no farther than Kaupang or Birka, or to the other commercial ports my brothers frequent, then I could sail now. But I want to go far beyond the horizon, to a world none has yet seen.” He looked away, far into the distance, his expression filled with sorrow as he grew silent.
After waiting a moment Celiese could no longer suppress her curiosity. “If no man has seen this place, how do you know it exists?” Vikings were fond of relating their own adventures, or of listening to heroic tales told by scalds, men who were respected for their cleverness with words, but whether the tales they spun were true or not she did not know. “Have you heard a legend perhaps, or some story about this far-off land?”
“No but there are lands to the north of us, I have been to them. Why should lands not exist in the west, as well?” he pointed out logically. “I have no wish to follow another’s lead, I want simply to sail toward the setting sun until I have discovered all the se
crets the world has hidden still.”
In the clear light of the spring day, his eyes were a vibrant light brown, filled with the golden flecks that gave them their remarkable topaz shine. Staring into those eyes, which seemed to see wonders beyond imagining, she hoped only that he would realize his dream. Her hand still lay in his, and she clasped his fingers tightly as she spoke. “You are well, Mylan, truly you are, and you must follow your heart wherever it leads you, for it is plain you will never be content living here.” Not even with me here to love you, she thought wistfully.
For the briefest of moments he wondered what sane man would sit as calmly as he and seek the advice of his slave. A few tendrils of silvery blonde had escaped Celiese’s braid to curl softly upon her cheeks, and she was so appealing a young woman he was tempted to accept her recommendations as most sensible regardless of her lowly status.
“Strong enough for most things, that is true.” A sly smile curved across his lips as he continued. “To grow grain, to hunt deer, to make love to you; but I am not strong enough to begin a voyage of many weeks across the widest of seas. If it were no more than my life I would gladly risk it, but I’ll not needlessly endanger the lives of my crew.”
That he would mention the intimacy they had shared so casually pained her greatly, but she would not let him see that hurt and changed the subject to a far safer one.
“Your brothers sail well, with hands so light their ship nearly flew across the waves. Raktor and his sons are brutish in all things, that their ships do not sink beneath them as soon as they leave their docks amazes me, for they understand neither the winds nor the currents, but only the greed that fills their own hearts.”
It was not only the beauty of his slave’s appearance that he enjoyed, but the acuteness of her perceptions, which continually amazed him. “I could not have described their failings better, and your compliment for my brothers pleases me, as I am the one who taught them as children. They were clever boys who learned rapidly how to sail our craft.”
“It was you who taught them, not your father?” she asked with an enchanting smile, encouraging him to continue.
