26
MIRANA KNEW SOMEONE was there even before she was fully awake. Gunleik, she thought, and felt a surge of hope. She opened her eyes but it wasna??t Gunleik who stood there.
It was a beautiful young girl with golden haira??not the silver blondness of Siraa??no, golden as the wheat in August, and brilliant golden eyes.
She was dressed in pure white linen with a tunic of the finest white wool over it.
Mirana frowned a bit for those thick, beautifully designed silver bracelets at her wrists and on her upper arms surely belonged to Einar.
She realized then that it was the same girl Ingolf had taunted Einar about just before Einar had killed him.
a??Youa??re awake, witch,a?? the girl said, her voice vicious and low.
a??Who are you?a??
a??I am your brothera??s mistress. Those other two women no longer hold him except on rare occasion, the bleating sheep.
I have been here since youa??ve been gone.
I am more beloved by Einar than any before me and that includes you as well.
He found me in Dublin and brought me here, nay, begged me to come here.
I am the one he loves. You are here only until he can contact that old bastard, King Sitric, to come and fetch you.
Then you will be gone and I will be glad.
All the people will realize that I am here to take your place, and then they will have to respect me and obey me as they now do you.a??
a??What is your name?a??
The girl straightened now and simply stared down at her.
She appeared fine-boned, yet tall, lithe, and sleek.
a??Einar told me you were beautiful. He said your flesh was as white as goata??s milk, that your eyes were the same color as his, but it isna??t true.
The green of your eyes is impure, dulled with other colors, not the pure vibrant green of his.
Nay, you are nothing with your ugly black hair.
Einar remembered you in his image and endowed you with his own beauty.
I know why. It was because you have such value to him.
He wants you to be comely so the king wona??t be angered.
Aye, he was afraid you would be lost to him forever.
I had believed that Einar feared nothing, but I was wrong.
He fears that old king and that advisor of his, Hormuze.
a??I listened to you speak to him last night.
You spoke sharply to him; you were cold when you wished to be; you taunted him, surely you lied to him about that whipping the Viking gave you.
You did not treat him with respect, with the honor he deserves, yet he didna??t strike you.
Mayhap he wanted to but he didna??t want you marked for the king.
Aye, that is it. Youa??d best pray the king will fetch you quickly, else Einar will grow weary of your bitcha??s deceit and insolence.
He will strike you and I will enjoy watching him do it.
Else he will stick his knife in your breast, just as he did to that bastard, Ingolf, and I will enjoy watching him to do that as well.a??
a??Has he struck you?a??
There was a frown that marred the beautifully smooth forehead. The girl couldna??t be more than sixteen years old, Mirana thought, so very young to have pride in being a mana??s whore. She felt no compassion, just sharp dislike.
a??Once he did. I was sharp-tongued like you. I realized quickly enough that he enjoys that, but not all that much of it. It is simply difficult to judge when he is wearied of mockery and audacity. His moods change quickly, but that only makes me love him more. He did not strike me hard.a??
Mirana shook her head, sending her hair into a thick sweep about her shoulders.
She laughed a little. a??You have learned a lot about him in a very short time.
Perhaps you will last longer than those before you, though I doubt it.
That or you will become like the other women, submissive and silent and afraid.a??
a??What do you mean a??those before youa??? Surely you cana??t compare me to those two.a??
Mirana simply shrugged and smiled up at the girl.
a??You heard what I said. Do you believe my brother a virgin, mayhap?
You dona??t believe he took women before the two he now beds only occasionally?
At least that is what you say.a?? She laughed more, then shoved herself upright in her box bed.
The girl stepped back a step, and that pleased Mirana.
Perhaps the girl believed her to be like her brother, perhaps she feared her a bit as well.
She gave her another smile, a vicious smile, and it had some effect as well, for the girl took another step away from her.
a??Einar also told me you might dislike me and might try to whip me. I know he wona??t allow it, so I warn you, keep away from me.a??
Mirana pulled her hair over her right shoulder and began to comb her fingers through it.
She appeared bored, but she was thinking furiously.
So the girl expected cruelty from her, and she feared it.
She said easily, a??I will warn you, for what reason, I dona??t know.
Perhaps because I find you pathetic. Or perhaps because you are so very young.
When Einar is bored with his women, he isna??t necessarily kind to them.
In the past he has occasionally dismissed them in rather violent ways.
You see his other two womena??you call them silly sheep.
That is because they are afraid to say anything in his hearing for fear he will be displeased.
And then he will hurt them. He enjoys hurting those he beds.a??
To her surprise, the girl smiled, her whole body radiating confidence, and said, a??Ah, but I am different, very different from his other women.
I knew you were a fool and now Ia??ve proved it to myself.
I am not pathetic, a??tis you who are. Now I will prove it to you, and your blindness, ugly witch.a??
Then the girl giggled. She stood by Miranaa??s bed, straight and tall and giggling.
Without another word, she stripped off her tunic.
Then slowly, she turned her back to Mirana.
The gown followed, then the soft linen shift and leather slippers.
Mirana saw a tall girl with a straight back and long legs lightly furred with golden hair.
Her buttocks were small, too small, and there was something strange here, something . . .
The giggles turned to laughter as she turned to face her again. a??Behold, Mirana.a??
A boy stood in front of her. A beautiful boy with golden hair that brushed his shoulder blades.
His flesh was smooth and tinged with an olive tint.
There was little hair on him, only at his groin and on his legs, lightly sprinkled.
His rod was soft against him. He was slender as a girl and as supple.
But there was strength there as well, Mirana could see it.
And a very strong will. And a vanity that went too deep, a vanity born of too few years.
a??I told you I was different. Am I not beautiful?
a?? The boy did a turn, raising his arms, preening.
a??What I do to Einar gives him great pleasure, more pleasure than those two stupid women ever give him.
He will sell both of them, he told me he was going to.
Also he will sell them because I have asked him to sell them.
Their stupid faces and their witless sighs annoy me.
Their breasts hang on them like cowsa?? udders, ugly and bloated.
Nay, he wona??t ever dismiss me. Mayhap hea??ll hit me, but only because of his uncertain tempers.
He would never mark me, at least not overly much, or send me away.a??
Mirana could only stare at the boy. Memories flooded into her mind and she knew now that there had been other boys before this one, but she hadna??t realized, hadna??t guessed, that her brother had used them as he would use a woman.
Did Gunleik know? Did his warriors know?
How could they? But of course they did. Ingolf had known and laughed about it and Einar killed him for it.
She closed her eyes a moment against the knowledge.
But there had been women as well, many women, some kind to her, others frightened, yet others certain their beauty and endowments would hold his attention.
None ever had for very long, male or female.
She remembered the boy shea??d tried to protect.
Einar had whipped her for her interference and the boy had died. Was he one of Einara??s lovers as well?
a??Look at me, damn you! I am more beautiful than you could hope to be.
Look at me! Aye, none of you white-fleshed bitches can approach my beauty.
As for that slut, Sira, mayhap Einar will plow her belly once or twice, but it is to me he will return, always to me.
It is only her hair that charms him, nothing else about her.a??
a??What is your name?a??
The lad smiled. a??You may call me Lella.
Einar is pleased to dress me in a womana??s name and in a womana??s clothes.
It amuses him. It tweaks his mena??s noses, for they too are forced to call me Lella.
They despise me, but it matters not. Once Einar even had me flirt with old Svein Forkbeard.
I thought the old sot would faint when I touched his shriveled rod.
Aye, the men must smile or look the other way, for I am the lorda??s favorite and they must mind their tongues.