Lord of Hawkfell Island (Viking Era 2)

“Ah, Erm, look at the warship. It is well built. Our family will put it to fine use. But we, brother, we have found two beautiful women to ease us. I cannot believe our good fortune.”

“Aye,” Erm said and released Entti. “This day the gods have smiled on us.” He actually rubbed his hands together as he strode toward the warship, saying over his shoulder, “Stay together, little birds. My brother and I will take care of you. You have no more reason to be afraid.”

When Odom the bull moved off to join his brother, Entti said in a low voice to Mirana, “I’ll lay you a fine wager just how they’ll take care of us. What say you, Mirana?”

“Let us wait until they are completely lulled, completely without suspicion. Then we will act.”

Mirana gleaned from their talk that the brothers had wives and children and a farmstead just inland. The beach upon which they’d landed was just beyond the Thames estuary. The brothers were there to hunt, aye, just to hunt and perhaps to fish if there were no pheasant or wild pigs about. She saw them look at each other then, their expression sly. They were very pleased with themselves, that was obvious to see. They slapped each other on the back. Two new slaves, both young and lovely too. It was a treasure they’d found and all because of this trip down to the beach to fish. Aye, they were happy men.

When they returned, Erm suddenly grabbed Entti, pulling her to him, and clutched wildly at her breasts. Obviously he’d looked his fill at his new warship and now he wanted the woman. She was soft and firm and he was eager, more than eager. He was ready to ravish her to his heart’s content. She was nearly as tall as he was, but he was the stronger. He was a man and he was her new master.

He said into her face, his words meant for his brother, “Let’s sate ourselves with them now. I have no wish to argue with my wife. And our other men will want them. There will be trouble, but I am willing to fight for them.”

“Aye,” said Odom as he smiled down at Mirana. “Please me and I’ll see you’re not abused. I’ll protect you from all the others. Aye, I’ll give you a new gown. This one you’re wearing is very ugly and old.”

Entti heard Odom the bull’s words and very nearly laughed aloud.

Mirana’s fingers itched and tingled, tightening about the knife. She was ready. She prayed that Entti wouldn’t panic.

It happened quickly. Odom grabbed Mirana about her waist and flung her to the sand. He straddled her with his knees on each side of her waist, content for the moment just to stare down at his gift from the gods. He reached out his hand and began to fondle her breasts. She made no move, merely lay there, waiting, waiting. His breath came more quickly and she knew it wouldn’t be long now. It wasn’t. When he ripped up her gown and he fell atop her, he impaled himself on the knife she was clutching between her breasts. He reared up and stared down at her, blood bubbling from his shoulder, dripping down the knife handle onto her gown. He cried out, jerked back, and grabbed his shoulder. His fingers fluttered about the knife handle, but she could see he was afraid to pull it free of his flesh. Let him rot with it in him, she thought. She said nothing, merely waited. He could still kill her, despite the knife in his shoulder. She waited, silent and still.

Odom threw back his head and yelled, his voice filled with both pain and astonishment at what she had done to him, “Erm! Help me!”

Erm whirled about at his brother’s strangled cry. His hand was on Entti’s thigh, all his thoughts, all his concentration, on the soft flesh, on his lust, on how the woman wasn’t fighting him, how she was accepting him. He yelled back in surprise, then leapt off Entti and ran to his brother. At that instant, Entti jumped after him, and jabbed the sword in his side. He yelled louder than her father ever had when he’d been bested by another jeweler.

/> “She is but one woman, Rorik,” Askhold said again, as if to reassure himself rather than Rorik or the others. “Entti is her prisoner. The woman has some hold over her, threatening her in some way, or promising her a better life with her brother. That, or Entti is just too simple to realize what is happening to her. If Mirana acted like her mistress, she might have just obeyed her blindly.”

Hafter frowned. “This has already been discussed, Askhold. I’ve already rejected that. Entti’s not that simple. The woman is hurting her, she has managed to gain some hold on her. I don’t understand it, but it must be so.”

“Not that it matters now,” Askhold said. “Two women alone—they had no chance. The storm was brief but very deadly. My arms feel as though they’ve been pulled from their sockets. There are only two of them to handle the warship. They had no chance, Rorik. They must be dead. Mayhap we’ll never find them.”

Rorik stared at Askhold. He said only, “Nay. Mirana is smart. I have told all of you this again and again. Believe me now. She has managed, I know it. Despite Entti’s slowness, her simplicity, Mirana will survive. She would keep the warship close to shore. When the storm became too strong, she would beach it and wait for the weather to clear. Keep a sharp lookout, Gurd. We must have gained on them considerably.”

It was Hafter who saw the warship.

It was Rorik who saw the two men attack the women. He felt a curdling of fear in his belly, then he smiled, not at all surprised, when the man on Mirana reared back and fell onto his side, Hafter’s knife sticking from his shoulder. But he admitted to astonishment when he saw Entti leap to her feet, run after the other man, and ram Hafter’s sword into his side. She nearly missed, but she was strong, and the glancing blow carried enough force to knock the man down and make him yowl with pain.

“Let us go in quietly,” he said. “I do not wish to startle them.”

“Startle them, ha!” Gurd said, and spat over the side of the boat. “That damned woman, she’s playing the man. We should kill her.”

It was Entti who saw them. The wounded men at their feet were forgotten.

Mirana cursed, pulled her knife from the moaning Odom’s shoulder, and ran, Entti behind her, Hafter’s bloody sword dragging in the sand.

“Why is Entti running away?” Hafter said. “She is Mirana’s prisoner no more. Surely she must realize that. She should be running to me. I know she saw me and recognized me. She can’t be that witless. She knows I will take care of her, save her from the witch.”

Rorik said nothing more until they’d pulled their warship onto the beach to rest beside the other one.

The women had long since disappeared into the trees by the time the men jumped from the warship onto the dark sand. The wounded men were also gone, both of them leaving trails of blood in the sand. The sun disappeared behind thick gray clouds. More rain threatened.

“Come,” Rorik said, and ran to where they had disappeared. When they reached the treeline, he stopped, and said, “Askhold, come here. We must track them now.”

“We will hear them,” Gurd said. “Rorik, you believe this woman to be beyond a woman, and that is madness. She is naught but a female when all is said and done. Aye, the two of them will make more noise than ten boars thrashing through this heavy undergrowth. They have no skill in—”

Rorik just shook his head, silencing Gurd.

“It is difficult,” Askhold said at last. “There are different footsteps here and they are merged together. It is the two men who were with the women, but I cannot be certain whose feet belong to the women, there is too much confusion, too much overlapping. See the spots of blood? It’s from one or both of the men, but again, there is too much confusion to know which blood spots belong where.”