Beyond the Sea Mist (18 page)

* * *

“Ailinn?” Magnus called. “Are you down here?”

When he heard no answer, Maelgwn felt afraid. While he was asleep, the men might have thrown Ailinn off the ship. If she were lost, then everything he’d endured would be for naught. The memory of her face, her scent, the feel of her delicate body would haunt him the rest of his life.

Heart pounding, he peered into the cargo area toward the prow. “Ailinn?” he called again.

“I’m here, Magnus,” she answered.

Relief swept through him. He moved a little deeper into the hold. “What are you doing down here? Is something wrong?”

“I’m fetching the cat,” she called back. A moment later, she appeared, crawling out from the cargo area with the animal in her arms. “I didn’t want to leave it trapped down here.”

Magnus was puzzled. “You came down here because you were worried about the cat?”

“Nay. I came down here because I wanted to see if I could salvage any of our possessions, or if they were all ruined by water. Then I heard the cat meowing and went looking for it.”

“You shouldn’t be down here by yourself. I don’t trust some of the crew. You need to stay on deck where I can protect you. If you want to search the water for your things, I can help you.”

“Nay!” She spoke so sharply that he was startled. “I...I’ve already searched and there’s nothing we can save. Can you please help me up on deck now?”

“Of course.” He took the cat from her and threw the animal up onto the deck. Then he turned to boost her up. As he grasped her around the waist, desire pulsed through him. At last they were alone, with no danger immediately threatening. He stared at her, admiring her mysterious gold-green eyes and remembering how she’d come to him in the night. Surely that meant she welcomed his attentions. He leaned down to kiss her.

She shifted away from him. “I’m cold, Magnus. Please help me up so I can go to the tent and get warm.”

“I know a way I could warm you,” he said.

She drew back even more. “I really should get back and check on Gormlaith and the other women.”

She looked so pleading and desperate. How could he refuse her? “Very well,” he said, repressing a sigh. He boosted her up on the deck.

* * *

Ailinn started toward the tent, her stomach in knots. Magnus had been on the verge of kissing her. She’d wanted him to, wanted it desperately. But all she could think of was getting him out of the hold as quickly as possible. There hadn’t been time to put the box of treasure back in the hiding spot and she’d had to leave it on top of a barrel. If he took a few more steps into the hold, he might have see it.

Now she realized how foolish her fears were. If she’d let him kiss her and caress her, he would have been too distracted to notice the treasure. She’d missed her chance to show him how grateful she was for rescuing her from Croa.

Then again, if she’d given into to him, he would think she was willing to let him bed her and make her his leman. Although the idea was tantalizing in some ways, she had to maintain her independence as much as possible.

It was an impossible dilemma. Made all the more difficult because she desired him as fiercely as he seemed to desire her. But she couldn’t let the urges of her body interfere with her plan. She must concentrate on her goal, which meant she had to go back to the hold as soon as possible and find a better place to hide the treasure.

With that thought, she drew aside the tent flap and was relieved when she saw Gormlaith sitting up.

* * *

Magnus’s muscles were rigid with tension. He’d asked the whole crew to meet with him on the stern of the ship. They’d done so, even Thorvald and Hafgrim. But now, despite their apparent acceptance of him, he knew that at any moment, one—or several—of these men might decide to challenge him.

“This morning I consulted with Vibold.” Magnus motioned to the weathered steersman. “He says we were blown to the west of Albion. There’s not much of a breeze, but we might as well raise the sail and see if we can make some progress to the east.”

“So, you think you’re giving orders now, do you?” Lodur’s tone was contemptuous.

Magnus tensed. “Someone must be in charge,” he said, trying to sound calm and reasonable.

“Aye,” Lodur responded. “But why you, who has little experience in sailing? You must depend on Vibold to read the bearing stone. And I doubt you even know how to set the lines and adjust the sail to steer the ship in the proper direction.”

“Croa had even less skill regarding a ship than I do,” Magnus pointed out. “Yet, you accepted his authority.”

“Aye, and he almost caused our deaths.” It was Thorjorb who spoke this time, his blue eyes glittering with resentment. “Perhaps we should choose a captain who knows something about sailing.”

“And who would that be?” asked Asgar. He motioned to Vibold. “This man has the most knowledge and experience on the sea as any of us. Do you desire that he be our captain? And what about when we reach York? Will you expect Vibold to deal with the merchants in selling what cargo we have left?” Asgar shook his head. “I’ve served under many men, and I know what makes a good captain. A captain doesn’t have to possess great knowledge of sea travel, only be willing to listen to those men of his crew who are skilled in such things. While Croa hid in his tent and let the ship nearly founder, Magnus took action and did what needed to be done.”

“Aye,” said Bragi. “If not for Magnus, there’s a good chance we would all be dead. Someone had to kill Croa, who was too stupid to admit the danger and get rid of the cargo. I’ll admit I didn’t have the courage to confront Croa. But Magnus did, and for that reason, I’m willing to take orders from him. If the rest of you wish to choose another captain, then do so now. Then have the man you choose fight Magnus in fair combat, and we’ll see who prevails.”

The men glanced around at each other. Several of them focused their gaze on Thorvald. “What about you, Thorvald?” Oleif asked. “Croa was your uncle, so by the Norse laws of inheritance, the ship is now your property. Are you willing to fight Magnus for it?”

Thorvald looked at Magnus. There was a hint of resentment and anger in his expression, but also wariness. “Nay. I don’t want to fight.”

“Anyone else?” Asgar asked.

No one spoke for a time. Then Oleif said, “I’m willing to accept any leader who gets me safely back to land and pays me what I was promised.”

“I’m the same.”

“I, also.”

“I’ll throw in with that.”

“Aye. It sounds like a reasonable plan.”

As the other men gave their assent, Magnus breathed a quick sigh of relief. While he was fairly confident he could best any of these men in combat, he’d rather not fight if he didn’t have to. As for the problem of paying the men, there were still some barrels and boxes in the hold. Surely a few of them contained something he could sell when they arrived in York. He would have to return there and see what he could find.

Magnus gave the order to raise the sail and the men began the process of hauling up the huge, rain-soaked piece of fabric. As Magnus lent his strength to the task, he thought of Ailinn. He was so uncertain about what she felt for him. Did she have any feelings for him beyond gratitude that he’d killed Croa and freed her?

But
had
he freed her? If he couldn’t pay the crew, they might well turn against him and choose some other man as their captain. Then he would have no say in what happened to her.

Magnus struggled to control his emotions. He must not panic, but keep his wits about him. Rather than thinking too much about the future, he must focus on the present and remain aware of what was going on around him. That thought reminded him of Asgar. Without his support during the storm and afterwards, things might have turned out very differently. It was time he talked to Asgar and let him know he appreciated what he had done.

When the sail was raised and they were underway, Magnus sought out the big warrior. He led Asgar to the side of the deck where the sound of the waves and the wind would cover their conversation.

“I wanted to thank you for your aid the past two days,” Magnus began. “I haven’t forgotten that you provided the axe I used to kill Croa. And you’ve stood up for me—and for the women—several times.” He paused, wondering if Asgar would let him know what he expected for his support, or if he would have to ask him outright.

“Speaking of the women, I assume they’re feeling better,” said Asgar, “Now that they’re on deck and and the storm is over.”

“Aye,” Magnus responded. “Except for the one that Croa injured. She still seems to be ailing.”

Asgar nodded. “But the little one with dark hair is well?”

“Aye.”

This was his answer, Magnus thought. Asgar had supported him and defended Ailinn because he hoped to win favor with one of Ailinn’s companions.

The realization eased some of Magnus’s tension but not all of it. He understood Asgar’s motivations. But what about Ailinn’s?

Ailinn sat in the tent and picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of her kirtle. All she could think about was the treasure. The more time that passed before she could retrieve it, the more likely someone else would discover it.

When she shifted and sighed, Brina frowned at her and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“The means of our regaining our freedom lies in the hold. But if I don’t retrieve it soon, it may be too late.”

“What are you talking about?” Brina asked. “What is this ‘means of our regaining our freedom’?”

Ailinn drew near to Brina and lowered her voice. “There’s a box of valuable metalwork down in the hold. Only Thorvald knows it’s there, and I’ve already moved it from his hiding place. As soon as I can, I’m going down to retrieve it.”

Ullach, who had been listening, let out a gasp. “You expect to steal some Norseman’s treasure and get away with it?”

“I can do it,” Ailinn answered firmly.

“But what will happen when Thorvald discovers it’s missing?” Brina asked.

“Most of the other cargo was thrown overboard, so he’ll think this box was discarded as well.”

“Shouldn’t you tell Magnus about this?” Ullach asked. “He might be able to claim the treasure now that he’s taken over the ship.”

“If he learns about it, he’ll want it all for himself.”

“Magnus saved our lives, and he’ll be able to defend the treasure and keep it, whereas you will not,” Brina pointed out.

Ailinn knew Brina’s words were reasonable, but she had no intention of giving in to them. “I need that treasure. With it, I’ll be able to hire a warband when we get back to Ireland.”

Gormlaith, who had been lying down, sat up. “Hire a warband? What use do you have for a warband?”

Ailinn raised her chin. “I intend to reclaim my family’s lands.”

None of the women said anything for a time. Brina finally broke the silence, her voice gentle and patient, as if talking to a child. “I know I’ve made much of your heritage as a Donovan, but I never thought my words would inspire you to such a foolish plan. No one expects you to avenge your family. As a woman, ‘tis unthinkable for you to even consider it.”

“Why not?” Ailinn demanded. “I pushed Croa overboard and freed us from him. Why shouldn’t I pursue the beasts who killed my family?”

Ullach spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Killing is a sin.”

Ailinn gave a harsh laugh. “Men do it all the time. Do you think all of them are going to hell? If so, then the place must already be so crowded as to scarce have room for another soul. Except for monks, no
man
considers it a sin to kill his enemies.”

The three women continued to stare at Ailinn, clearly shocked by her words. Ailinn set her jaw. She could feel no regrets over what she’d done. Croa had intended to kill both her and Magnus. Having prevailed against him, why shouldn’t she attempt to do away with the other men responsible for killing her family?

Brina shook her head. “You must forget this mad notion, lady. To pursue it will only endanger you. You should be pleased to be free of Croa, and even more delighted that your rescuer is a fine, handsome warrior who will treat you well and mayhap even wed you.”

“Aye,” Ullach agreed. “Whatever you do, don’t tell Magnus about your plan. It sounds so...bloodthirsty.” She shuddered.

“MacTighe had my family struck down before my eyes, yet you call
me
bloodthirsty because I want to see him dead!” Ailinn glared at Ullach. “If I were a man, there would be no question I should do this. But because I’m a woman, I’m supposed to be meek and forgiving. But I can’t forgive, and I will not forget!”

As the rage and bitterness washed through her, Ailinn could endure no more. Scrambling out of the tent, she strode to the side of the ship and stared out at the sea. Her hands were clenched into fists and her body trembled. For so long, she’d felt like a trapped, doomed animal. But now that she’d been set free, she realized she’d rather die than be that powerless ever again. The angry, restless thoughts spun in her head as she gazed out at the endless blue gray waves.

After a time, she moved away from the side of the ship, but halted when she saw Magnus. He was near the mast, working with other men to adjust the rigging on the sail. He’d taken off his tunic, and his bare chest was streaked with sweat, his face flushed with color. Ailinn couldn’t take her eyes from him. She’d seen men half-clothed before, but the sight had never caused this sort of response. As she recalled what it had felt like to sit on Magnus’s lap and have his brawny arms around her, pressing her against the hard expanse of his chest, her body came alive with a throbbing, hungry ache.