Undercurrent (20 page)

Any words that might’ve formed stuck in her throat. She’d been so busy judging Ragnar for calling her a thrall that she’d failed to notice his slavish care for her. That stung. She owed the fellow an apology. Big time.

The gray blanket covering the sky grew darker, hinting at night’s arrival. She stood and paced, willing his image to emerge from the black forest. He’d been right behind them, hadn’t he?

Alarik stood as well, joining her surveillance of the woods. “I will see to Ragnar if you will see to some firewood, ja?”

With dusk closing in, splitting up didn’t sound like a smart idea, but she couldn’t think of a better one. “Ja.”

She searched the immediate area as he trotted away, turning up some thin sticks hardly fit for kindling. She’d find a payload of firewood at the forest’s edge, but Alarik’s superstitions about magic and spirits rattled her more than she cared to admit.

Hurrying in the opposite direction, she glued her gaze to the ground. Scrubby plants and rocks dotted the landscape, but not so much as a twig. Her calves burned as she climbed a large rise. She tripped once, almost losing her pathetic bundle of five sticks. Setting them down in a neat pile on top of a jutting rock, she pressed on. She’d grab them on her return route.

At the crest of the hill, she paused. A treasure trove of driftwood lay strewn along a beach far below. Squinting into the dusk, she spotted a winding route leading downward. At least it looked like it might. Hard to tell. She narrowed her eyes even more, craned her neck, and took a step forward.

The ground crumbled. For one awful moment, she teetered. A wind gust taunted her position, its brisk force pushing her backward. She flung her arms wide. Even so, her tailbone hit the dirt, and the cliff’s edge gave way.

She slid unrestrained.

Grabbing for anything, she snagged nothing. Rocks bit her hands. She flailed her feet against the sheer face, desperately seeking a toehold. An incriminating thought rushed by that it would’ve been safer to collect wood near the forest as Alarik had suggested.

Just as suddenly, she jerked to a stop. Panting, she tightened her hand on a rogue shrub clinging valiantly to the cliff’s wall. But that silly little bush couldn’t hold her weight. Her feet rested on something.

She glanced down, careful not to make any sudden moves. A small ledge…slate? Sandstone? Whatever it was, it wobbled, and there appeared to be none any larger available. The beach below looked nearly as far away as when she’d stood at the crest. The drop to the ground plummeted ominously, ruling that option out, but neither would she risk climbing the unstable crag.

Great. How would Alarik and Ragnar ever find her here?

Leaving behind the sparse scrubwood for the thick trees of the forest, Alarik paused and gave a shrill whistle. He might’ve heard a reply, but hard to tell with foraging badgers nearby and crisp leaves rustling overhead in a gust of wind. The chill breeze portended a cold, stormy night. Should Cass-ee fail in her chore, they’d all suffer.

Irritating woman. Only Odin knew why Ragnar kept her thus far. Her indifference to his friend galled him beyond reason. Crime enough that Ragnar had served his father like a dog, but now her? Why did his cousin always love those most unworthy?

He snugged his cloak tighter and tramped along the trail. Darkness crept in, sure and steady. Would that he’d find his friend soon. Who knew what manner of elves or faeries inhabited this wood. He’d search as far as the edge of the sacred grove, but no further.

Passing a giant ash, he could easily imagine it to be Yggdrasil, the tree of the nine realms. And in the growing blackness, this particular realm made him glad his sword and dagger lent him strength.

The wind swirled past him once more, this time carrying an unmistakable tone. He answered with his own sharp trill and hurried on. A shadowed figure loomed ahead, an unnerving sight if he hadn’t recognized Ragnar’s determined stride.

“
Odin’s teeth, man, I thought you’d gone the way of the trolls. What kept you?”

Ragnar drew near, then turned. Two fat hares added to the burden of the packs on his back. “I am tired of dried food.”

Alarik shook his head. “More like Cass-ee is tired of the dried food, ja?”

“
And you are not?”

“
Ahh, so you face the evils of a black forest to fetch me a hare? Then hand it over and one of those packs as well. I’ll not dally overlong in this wicked wood.”

“
You’d do better to fear God than trees, cousin, though I’ll not pass up your offer. Here.” Ragnar unloaded half his burden, and they picked their way back along the trail.

Shooting his friend a sideways glance, Alarik could contain his curiosity no more than the fading light. “Why is it you dote on Cass-ee? She neither shortens your nights with her warmth nor favors you by day.”

In the near-dark, it was impossible to read Ragnar’s expression. He merely grunted and marched on.

A burst of wind gusted and a shiver shook Alarik. How much more so through the cloakless Ragnar? “You serve the woman like a thrall. Nay, not even a thrall would be so compliant. She is not worthy of your attention. Free her and be done with it.”

Ragnar answered with a sideways look of his own. “Jesu served those he loved, even to the point of death, that we might escape God’s wrath. My service is nothing in comparison.”

“
So you’ve spoken time and again—”

“
Then why do you not listen, cousin? And if you must know, I have freed her, though she did not understand herself to be owned in the first place. It was quite the conversation.”

He caught Ragnar’s flash of a smile as the trees began to thin. “I would imagine. You, my friend, allow the woman too much slack. Even for my own Signy I would not grovel so.”

“
Mayhap not with the smaller creature comforts, but I wager you’d trade your life for hers should the need arise.”

“’
Tis true our hearts are pledged, but…” Thinking of her heated him through. The brisk wind no longer stung his cheeks, but the quiver that shook Ragnar as it whipped past did not escape Alarik’s notice. “Cass-ee has vowed you nothing.”

“
You are saying words alone bind you to Signy?”

As they exchanged the oppressive forest for the rocky grasslands, the western sky carried no hint of remaining light, but there was no mistaking the piercing look Ragnar directed at him.

“
What if Signy never pledged you a troth? Nay, what if even she scorned you—would you not still seek to protect her?”

“
Nay! I would not.”

“
You are quick to answer, but I daresay it is your pride that speaks so.”

Had Ragnar not been his friend, Alarik would’ve flattened him in a heartbeat for making such a charge. An angry retort burned to his lips, but sputtered away as a gust blew back Ragnar’s hair. The scar sliced across his face could be seen even in the early evening dusk. He’d suffered enough with words from his father. Far be it from Alarik to add yet another scar. A grumble rolled through him, but Ragnar would not be put off so easily.

“
Stripped of pride, my friend, love will not be stopped, for it does not require payment before spending itself. This is the way of Jesu. I pray you would understand it and know peace. Do not fret yourself over my service to Cassie nor any other, for truly I own the peace of which I speak.”

Traveling the uneven terrain challenged his feet as surely as Ragnar’s lofty speech—a speech he’d have to ponder later. Not far off, a lump added height atop a rock. He picked up his pace. “Save your breath, Ragnar, for you will surely need it.”

“
Why?”

Alarik cast the woman’s pack from his back to join his own on the rock, then turned to his cousin. “Cass-ee is gone.”

NINETEEN

Ragnar removed the pack from his back and scoured the ground for clues. No time now to give in to the rising apprehension prickling his skin as surely as the gusting wind. The tang of the air and distant rumble announced the imminent arrival of a storm. An autumn tempest was fearsome enough foe for a man. How much more for a woman as foolish as a child?

“
Here,” Alarik called.

Ragnar hurried to his side. One small footprint impressed a barren patch of dirt between two rocks, leading away from the forest.

“
If you sent her for wood, then why do her tracks make for the coast?”

Alarik grumbled lower than the approaching thunder. “Who can know the mind of that woman? I tell you, we should have left her with my brother.”

They split apart to cover more ground. The darkened sky lent no bright mercy, save for flashes of lightning. Tracking in the wild terrain deteriorated to near impossible.
Please, Jesu, all things are possible for you.
Ragnar pressed on, unwilling to heed the trepidation niggling at the edges of his faith.

One raindrop hit his cheek, tagged closely by a second. Easy enough to ignore now, but not for long. He sped ahead and nearly toppled over a jutted rock. A curse bubbled up from his past, but instead he whispered a blessing. Atop that rock sat a pile of sticks. Hardly the stack of firewood Cassie should have collected, but definitely a sign that she’d tried—and must be nearby.

“
Cassie!”

A loud crack of thunder swallowed any reply he might have heard. He raced to the top of the rise and called again. If he didn’t find her soon, lightning would find him, especially so exposed on the coastline’s ridge.

“
Here! Down here!”

Peering over the ragged cliff, he sucked in a breath. Silhouetted against the bare rocks, a dark figure huddled mayhap thirty handspans below where he stood. “Cassie?”

“
This ledge is breaking. I can’t hold on much longer.” The fear in her voice wrenched his gut.

“
Ja, you can.” Fumbling with his belt, he loosened his tunic and pulled it over his head. He dropped to his knees and flinched as a deafening boom hurt his ears. A white-hot bolt struck so close, the metallic smell charged through the air, and the hair on his arms tingled. Hard rain followed. Cold drops pelted relentlessly as if the North Sea decided to suddenly uproot and make its home on land. Clad in nothing but his undershirt, Ragnar shivered.

“
Ragnar, I can’t—”

“
You must!” He sliced a thick strip off the edge of his tunic. It gave way too easily. This fabric would never hold.

“
Ragnar!” Cassie’s cry pained him more than any of his father’s taunts. How could he lose her before he’d even won her? Nay, he would not.

Finding Alarik to help him would likely prove more reliable than cutting his garment to fashion a rope. He yanked the tunic back over his head and shoulders, then shouted, “Hold on!” Retreating, he descended the rise, hoping to spy his cousin. The curtain of rain soon washed away that thought. “Alarik!”

No answer.

He cupped his hands and hollered again, first one direction then another.

Still no answer.

Please, Jesu.

A glance at the hellish sky did nothing to bolster his faith. Either he trusted in God or not. Ja, in God he could trust, but a knotted linen tunic?

So be it. More than once his feet gave way as he returned up the rise. He’d pitch forward, only to right himself for a step or two, then lose balance again. The freezing rain pelted against him as if archers loosed thousands of icy arrows. Cold and strain trembled through him. Sweet Jesu, if he struggled this much on solid ground, how much more did Cassie on a crumbling ledge?

Conceding to the gale’s advantage, he abandoned his upright battle and dropped to all fours, clawing his way to the cliff’s edge. “Cassie?”

Hard enough to see in the dark, but the downpour made it worse.

“
Cassie!”

Lightning exploded. Intense white lit the cliff brighter than day. No ledge remained where she had stood.

“
Nooo!” His cry reverberated with the next roll of thunder.

Something harsh and pain-filled traveled on the last crack of thunder. Cassie looked up into total blackness. Jutted boulders, the rain and dark, all worked against her, preventing a glimpse of the cliff’s top edge now far above. Ragnar would probably worry when he came back for her and found her gone. But if Alarik hadn’t climbed up from below to coax her down, who knew if that little ledge would’ve held her much longer. Not that this path was a whole lot more stable. The trail Alarik led her along wound zigzag downward, hardly wide enough for one foot, let alone two.

Alarik signaled a stop with his raised hand. “Jump.”

“
What?” She peered over the edge. The next flash of lightning showed the beach still a frightening distance below. “Are you craz—”

“
Now!” He pushed away from the rock face and disappeared into the dark.

Cassie wobbled. The wind pelted rain needles at her, the gust of it urging her to follow Alarik’s advice. As if she had a choice, really. She sucked in a breath and shoved off, hurtling to safety or sudden death.

Her feet hit gravel, and her knees buckled. She shot out her palms, grinding them into the rocky soil to break her fall. Before her face mashed into the ground, strong arms hauled her up.

“
Køm.” Alarik shouted above the wind, grabbing her hand. She gave in to his lead, and in less than fifty paces, he pulled her into a gaping black hole that instantly stopped the battering rain.