Beyond the Sea Mist (21 page)

But despite her concerns, Asgar’s request to have the women mend his garments might provide the distraction she needed to get down into the hold unnoticed. “Fetch whatever you wish us to mend,” she told him. “I’ll get my sewing things.”

She hurried back to the tent and retrieved the small bag containing her needles and thread. Once the other women were busy mending the warrior’s garments, she would say she needed to return to the tent to get something else. Then she would make her way to the other side of the mast and slip down into the hold. Having seen her with the other women, Magnus would be less likely to worry about her whereabouts.

When she came back, Asgar had brought a whole pile of garments and Brina and Ullach were examining them. Observing Asgar’s expression as he watched Ullach, Ailinn felt a renewal of her concern. His interest in the young woman was clear. To a Norseman, Ullach’s coloring must seem very exotic. She had raven black hair, milky-white skin and pale gray-blue eyes.

But she’s barely a woman, Ailinn thought protectively. Her awareness of Asgar’s interest almost deterred her from her plan. But she told herself that Brina would look after Ullach.

A moment later, she saw Orm approaching. Ailinn tensed. She couldn’t get over the sense that this man was her enemy. She wondered if he was coming over to keep an eye on her. Instead, he ignored her and attempted to talk to Brina, with Asgar serving as a crude interpreter. As it had been with Asgar and Ullach, Orm’s interest in Brina was obvious. This irritated Ailinn, but she had to admit it served her purposes.

Within moments, the women were smiling and behaving coyly, while Asgar and Orm had assumed the smug demeanor men seemed to take on when they were being flirted with. Ailinn gritted her teeth at the sight, then told herself she was being a fool. Only a day or two ago, they’d all had as much control over their lives as a group of prize heifers for sale at a summer fair. Now her young companions were being treated with courtesy and respect. It was a very great change in their circumstances and she owed it all to Magnus.

She glanced in his direction again and reassured herself that he was still engaged in conversation with the weathered seaman. This was her chance. She leaned down to whisper to Gormlaith, who sat on a sea chest with her eyes closed, apparently enjoying the cooling breeze on her face. “I’m going to pretend to go back to the tent to fetch something. But I’m really going down in the hold. If Magnus comes over here and asks for me, make up some sort of excuse as to where I’ve gone.”

Gormlaith opened her eyes and frowned at Ailinn. A moment later, she nodded.

Ailinn left the women and made her way back to the tent. Ducking into the shelter, she retrieved one of the leather bags she’d kept her spare clothing in. The bag was still sodden, but large enough and sturdy enough to conceal the contents of the box.

She left the tent. When she reached the other side of the mast, she looked around. About a third of the crew was on this end of the deck. She didn’t recognize any of them except Hafgrim. He was sitting with two men who were playing some sort of board game. None of them were paying any attention to her, so she sat down on the side of the deck and slid down into the hold.

Landing with a splash, she grimaced at the impact, then quickly made her way to where she’d left the box of treasure.

* * *

As he and Orm made their way to the opening to the hold, Magnus expressed his concern:  “We threw so much overboard, I fear there’s nothing left to sell. And you say the
Seawolf
’s the same?”

“Aye, but she wasn’t carrying near as much cargo. I can’t believe there’s nothing left on this ship. The other men said she was loaded to the top.”

“Hold the lamp while I climb down, and we’ll soon find out.” Magnus handed the soapstone lamp to Orm, then let himself down into the hold. He reached up for the lamp so Orm could jump down beside him.

Raising the lamp, Magnus looked around. “I guess we should start on the side of the hold where the women were.

Magnus ducked his head and they made their way into the cargo area. As he shone the light around, he began to feel even less hopeful.

“Some hides.” Orm gestured. “But they’ve been ruined. And what’s this barrel here?”

“Probably water,” Magnus answered. “Hafgrim told us what could be tossed and what we might need to provision the ship for the rest of the journey. I fear all that’s left is drinking water, salt fish and other foodstores.”

“Which man is Hafgrim and how does he know so much about the cargo?” Orm asked.

“The one with the badly scarred face. He supervised the loading of the ship.”

“Do you think Hafgrim might feel some loyalty to Croa?”

“Maybe,” Magnus said.

“Well, you can’t too be careful. There’s no telling when one of the men might decide he’d make a better a captain than you.”

Magnus leaned down to pick up the lid of a wooden box, floating in the water. Recognizing it, he held it out to Orm. “This is part of one of the straw-filled crates that held the glassware from the warehouse you set alight. What a waste. And yet, we had no choice. If we hadn’t pitched it overboard, we’d have all drowned.”

Orm grunted in response, and they continued their survey of the cargo area. Holding the lamp near, Magnus bent down to examine the symbol on the side of the barrel. “This one’s marked with some sort of rune. I’ve always been intrigued by runes. I’d like to learn to read them someday.”

“Wait! What’s that?” Orm interrupted.

“What did you hear?”

“Someone’s down here.”

They made their way back to the opening. Magnus was startled to see Ailinn climbing on a barrel as if she meant to try to boost herself out of the hold. “Ailinn!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing down here?”

She turned and stared at him, her expression so guilty that he was stunned.

“What are you doing here?” he asked again

Ailinn motioned with her head toward Orm, as if to indicate she didn’t want to speak in front of him.

“Orm’s my friend. I’d trust him with anything.”

“It’s all right,” said Orm. “I’ll leave the two of you alone.” He started to hand Magnus the lamp.

Magnus waved it away. “Nay, take it with you. I’ll examine the rest of the cargo another time.”

Orm leaned near and whispered, “Remember what I said earlier. This might be your chance.” Orm lifted the lamp onto the edge of the deck and then heaved himself up.

Magnus considered Orm’s suggestion that he bed Ailinn and be done with it. While that thought enticed him, he couldn’t ignore her strange behavior. “You haven’t answered my question,” he said.

“I was looking for something I left down here.”

“I thought you said everything was ruined.”

“I...I had another bag containing some jewelry and other valuables. Croa took it away from me, but I thought it must still be down here.”

Even as she said this, Ailinn inwardly winced. This tale seemed too close to the truth, yet she could think of nothing else to say.

Magnus took a step nearer to her. When he spoke, his voice was a deep rumble that throbbed through her body. “And did you find this treasure?”

“Nay. It’s possible one of the crewmen found it. Or it might still be hidden somewhere.” She turned and gestured toward the side of the hold where Magnus and Orm had just been. “Perhaps you’ll have better luck searching than I did.”

“Perhaps I will...later.”

Magnus took a step nearer. Ailinn could feel his breath caress her face and his eyes bored into her like blue flames. She was torn. Part of her longed for this man to kiss her. Another part of her was terrified. The bag containing the treasure was lying in the water at their feet. Somehow she must get it safely up on deck without him seeing it.

Then he pulled her against him, and her ability to reason vanished. As their bodies came together, she moaned at the splendor of being so close to him. He felt so big, so warm, so solid. When he brought his mouth down on hers, she thought she would drown in delight. She never wanted the kiss to end. His lips moved over hers, tender and gentle. She could feel his body tremble as he sought to hold his passion in check. Her own desire matched his. She opened her mouth to him, encouraging him to take her, to fill her, to ease the burning ache inside her.

He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue. How wonderful he tasted, like the ripest, sweetest fruit. Her body was dissolving. Her flesh singed by the sheer intensity of her desire. She wanted to be closer to him. Closer and closer.

He answered her need by leaning down to kiss her neck, then reaching lower to ruck up her skirts. She clung to him as his questing hands found the bare flesh of her thighs beneath the layers of kirtle and shift. He cupped her buttocks and she pressed her hips into him, arching upwards, seeking release. With a harsh groan, he moved his hand between her legs, stroking her wet, swollen flesh through the fabric of her undergarment. She cried out, needing more. Wanting more.

She pressed her whole weight against him and spread her legs to offer him better access. Never had she felt like this, as if she would die if he didn’t do something to ease the violent ache inside her.

He torn away her undergarment so there was nothing in the way. He stroked her with a sublime, rough rhythm as his harsh breathing matched hers. She gave in to the sensation, like a vast wave crashing over her. The wave carried upward into a mindless peak of pure pleasure. She floated down upon it.

Gradually, she grew aware again. She clung to Magnus and he held her tightly, although he no longer touched her intimately. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. “Oh,” she murmured. “Oh, Magnus.”

He kissed her with great tenderness. “I hadn’t guessed a woman could peak with such passion.”

His words suddenly made what had happened seem very real. Embarrassed, she sought to move away from him.

“Nay. Let me hold you.” He gripped her tightly. “It enflames my lust, but I care not. We can do nothing for my need, but I’ll gladly ease yours.” Touching his cheek against hers, he murmured, “My Ailinn, my darling.”

Ailinn wanted to weep. She couldn’t think...and that terrified her. She felt herself yielding to this man, offering him everything. Nay, she couldn’t do that. She must be strong. She must not come to depend on him, to trust him.

He began to kiss her again. Light tender kisses. Along her neck, on her nape. Dear God, now he was nibbling on her ear! She felt as if her whole body were made of quivering jelly. With great effort, she forced herself to push him away. Her breath came in gasps. She had to get away from him. She had to...

“Ailinn, what’s wrong?” he asked

She shook her head, unable to answer. She feared she would weep. Never had she felt so helpless and overwhelmed. He touched her with such skill...as if he knew her better than she did herself. Oh, sweet heaven! How could she have allowed him to...? She could feel the wetness on her thighs. Smell the yeasty, warm scent of her own release. By the saints...

He drew her against him again, her back to his chest. When she twisted to get away, he held her tighter. “It’s all right, Ailinn Such things happen naturally between a man and a woman. Being a princess and a virgin, you never learned about coupling. I promise you, there’s more, much more. Even better than this. But I can wait. I
will
wait.”

His voice was soft thunder in her ears as he rubbed his face against her hair. Her nipples tightened until she could feel every movement of her shift sliding against them. The lingering tingle between her legs became a pulsing throb.
Oh, dear heaven, it was happening again!

She inhaled sharply and sagged against him. He responded with groan deep in his throat. The next moment she felt the hard ridge of his arousal pressing into her backside.

“By Freya, what you do to me,” he whispered.

“Magnus, I...” She leaned back against him and he brought his hands around to cup her breasts.

He ran his fingers over her breasts, searching for her nipples beneath her clothing. Finding them, he moved his fingers in slow circles over the aching points. She writhed in pleasure, her bliss intensified by the awareness that her buttocks were rubbing against that deliciously hard part of him. He made a strangled sound, then turned her in his arms so she faced him. “There is no bed, no place to lie down,” he muttered. “How can we...”

He took her over to one of the barrels. She cried out as he lifted her on to it. Holding her in place with one hand, he grasped the hem of her kirtle and pulled it up to her waist. “Spread your legs,” he said.

She was too shocked to obey. But then he touched her and she found herself doing exactly what he asked. She closed her eyes, thinking she would die of embarrassment. But there was no denying she wanted him. Wanted his fingers to stroke her, to tease her, to open her and then slide deep inside her.

She’d never felt anything like this. A pressure so intense it was almost painful. But when he slid his finger out, that tormented her even more. She gave a little cry of need and thrust her hips forward.

He used both hands to steady her on the barrel. She could hardly stay still. Arching her back and raising her hips, she sought out more. He changed position and slid one finger inside her again. As he moved it in and out in a rough rhythm, she moaned frantically.