Part 3 (1/2)
Despite his best intentions-and his being un-enthralled-he had to admire her expertise and that of her warriors, who appeared equally at ease at sea or on land. He was on one longs.h.i.+p and Ras.h.i.+d was on another, each s.h.i.+p manned by sixty-five vikings. There were no rowing benches. Instead, thirty-two men sat on their sea chests working the thirty-two long oars. The other thirty-two spelled them when their arms grew tired, while a helmsman guided the rudder. The Vikings hung their decorated s.h.i.+elds along the sides of the dragons.h.i.+ps, both for display and to stop arrows in case of a sea battle. Square sails of red and white stripes fluttered high atop both s.h.i.+ps from single masts and yardarms. A group of horses were corralled with ropes in the center of each boat, including Adam's and Ras.h.i.+d's.
In all, this Viking warrior-princess led her soldiers, even on the seas, with remarkable skill. As Ras.h.i.+d was fond of saying, ”An army of sheep led by a lion would defeat an army of lions led by a sheep.” It was clear that Tyra was a lion... but then, her hard-muscled warriors hardly counted as sheep.
That fact had been demonstrated to Adam only this morn when a Viking pirate s.h.i.+p attacked them. Out of the mist, the grotesque dragon prow of the marauding s.h.i.+p had appeared, like a giant sea monster. Reinforcing that image had been the battle shrieks of the pirates, like howling creatures from Niflheim, the Norse afterworld. Tyra's other s.h.i.+p had been too far ahead to be of a.s.sistance. Tossing grappling hooks attached to strong ropes onto Tyra's s.h.i.+p, the pirates-three dozen in all-had managed to pull the two s.h.i.+ps close enough to each other to jump aboard.
Tyra had led her men in the counter attack, slicing one man in the neck and heaving his lifeless body overboard, grabbing another smallish Viking pirate from behind around his neck and squeezing till he fell dead to the deck. Grunts and shouts and screams and m.u.f.fled cries had filled the air, but mostly there had been just the metallic sounds of swords and axes. .h.i.tting one another. The skirmish had lasted barely a half hour before the pirates disembarked Tyra's s.h.i.+p, cut the grappling rope, and rowed off, leaving behind ten dead pirates and much blood. But it had been long enough for Adam to see that Tyra was indeed a Viking warrior, woman or not.
And much to his dismay, he'd heard Tyra ask Bjorn, a berserker who also happened to be a blacksmith, if he wanted her to drain the still-warm blood from one of the pirates into a bucket to take home. The blood of an enemy was used betimes to ”quench,” or harden, white-hot swords during the pattern-welding process... though more times than not, water would suffice.
He had been fairly certain at the time that she had been serious, but mayhap she had been trying to shock him.
The bloodthirsty wench was about to walk by him now-and wasn't that an amazing sight? Whenever she remembered to do so, the woman swaggered-shoulders back, stride aggressive. Adam had lots of time to study this phenomenon and he'd come to the conclusion that Tyra deliberately tried to take on male characteristics. Perchance she thought they would give her greater authority. She even scratched her groin on occasion, as men did, and she spit over the side of the s.h.i.+p.
Now she was about to swagger right by him, as if he were invisible, on her usual manly stroll from stem to stern to supervise the work of her sailors. He gritted his teeth with chagrin at her easy disregard of him, or his comforts. Luckily, his teeth were no longer chattering. Before taking him forcibly away from his home two days ago, the woman had given him an opportunity to change from his robe intobraies , a wool tunic and heavy cloak, but, being exposed to the open air aboard s.h.i.+p, those garments had soon became soaked with sea water... until today when they'd seen their first warm sunlight. Now they were covered with residual sea salt. His situation was no different from that of every other person on the longboat. The Viking vessels rode low in the water, slos.h.i.+ng water in as a matter of course, and everyone was sodden most of the day. Baling water was a never-ending job.
”My lady Viking,” he called out, unable to control the sarcasm in his voice.
Tyra paused and arched one eyebrow in question. ”What? More complaints? Too cold? Too wet? Too hungry? Too tired? Too sore? Too, too, too... ”
He barely restrained himself from snarling. Quickly he banked his temper.
”Now that you've kidnapped me, why won't you untie me?” he asked, not for the first time. ”I concede I'm a prisoner, but prisoners have rights, too, you know.”
”I wouldn't precisely call it kidnapping,” she contended.
”Really? What would you call it?”
”A forceful invitation to visit my homeland.”
”Word games!”
”And as to why I won't release you, look what you did back at your keep when my mind wandered for a moment. Flat on my back I was with your clawlike fingers at my throat.”
Flat on her back. Yea, that is where women should be... rather, that is where this particular bothersome woman should be. And she will be, eventually, if I have my way.
G.o.d, what is it about this woman? One moment I wish my hands were free so I could wring her neck. Thenextmoment I wish my hands were free so I... so I could do other things .
”My fingers are not clawlike. In fact, I have been told by many that my hands are quite attractive... and clever.”
”Clever hands? No doubt 'twas a besotted maid who spoke those words.”
”Does that make my hands less clever?”
”This is a pointless conversation. The reason I won't release you is that you might try to escape.”
He looked all around him. Water, water, everywhere. ”As talented as I am in many ways, I do not think I could survive a two-hour swim to sh.o.r.e.”
She shrugged. ”You have a slick tongue, Saxon. You might try to convince my men to turn against me.”
”Mutiny? Pirates do that, don't they? Not civilized folks.”
”You consider us civilized?” She fair beamed at the presumed compliment.
”I was speaking of myself.”
”Aaarrgh!” she said and walked away.
He watched closely as she reprimanded one of her sailors for some misdeed, then moved on to a young boy, Alrek, who couldn't have seen more than ten winters. He was an apprentice who was trying desperately to impress his leader by maneuvering an oar bigger than himself. Adam had observed that the boy had great spirit and determination, but mostly he failed miserably at every task he tried, from scooping out bilge water in the early morning hours to archery practice during the evening exercises.
Tyra instructed Alrek with gentle firmness now, showing him how to handle the oar so it put less pressure on his shoulders and back. When he still failed to understand, she took his place on the sea chest and began to row, expertly. My G.o.d! The woman had muscles in places women were never intended to have muscles. And, by d.a.m.n, they looked good on her.
Soon she was back in front of Adam again. ”Would you like me to bring a bucket so you can relieve yourself, or turn you so that you can aim overboard? It has been a long time since our morning ablutions, and Rafn is too busy right now to handle the ch.o.r.e.”
He stared at her, bulge-eyed with horror. ”Nay, I do not wish to p.i.s.s in a bucket, or overboard... whilst you watch.”
”Well, then, would you like a serving ofgammelost to break your noonday fast?”
”If I never taste another bite of that stinksome cheese, it will be too soon.”
”I am so sorry I have no sweetmeats to tempt your palate.”
”Sarcasm ill suits you, m'lady. Do you not have some enemy to go bedevil, lop off a head or two, or something equally unfeminine, and leave innocents like me free of your word barbs?”
”Innocent? You? Methinks you were not innocent even when you came squalling from your mother's womb.” She sniffed the air around him then and remarked bluntly, ”You need a bath, my healer friend. I cannot fathom why you will not bathe along the sh.o.r.e in the evenings with my men.”
”I am not going into any body of water with my arms and legs tied.”
”Perchance you would like me to remove your garments now so Rafn can hang you over the side with a rope till the currents wash you clean... let us say for an hour or so. What say you to that?”
She was probably teasing.
But then again, she might be serious. He remembered vividly the morning's events and the ill-fated pirate she'd chopped in the neck with her broadsword.
”I am not a bloodthirsty man,” he said evenly, ”but it becomes increasingly clear to me that I am going to have to kill you.”
She laughed... she actually threw her head back and laughed at him, exposing white teeth and a mouth that was big enough to... well, suffice it to say, it was big enough. In deference to today's heat, she had forgone her cloak and tunic. Instead, she wore only a short-sleeved mailshert over tight leggings tucked into leather half-boots. But Adam was too angry now to admire the jut of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s or the taper of her waist.
He sniffed in an exaggerated fas.h.i.+on, mimicking her. ”Come to think on it, you are a mite rank yourself. That no doubt is why you scratch so much. Wouldst consider letting me removeyour garments? We could both hang over the side together. I know, I know...” he said, as if suddenly inspired. ”I will wash your back”-and other places-”if you will wash mine.”
”For a healer, you are not all that bright, are you?” Her eyes swept over him meaningfully from wind-blown, salt-lank hair to booted toes. ”You are hardly in a position to harm even a flea, rope-bound as you are.” It appeared she was going to ignore his naked-hanging-over-the-side-was.h.i.+ng-backs business. But her pinkened cheeks indicated that his comment had had its desired effect.
”I will not always be bound.”
”Ah, so you are saying that the moment you are re-teased, you will attempt to kill me? See, I was right when I said it would be unwise to untie you. But, truly, dost think it wise to give me fair warning?”