Chapter 8 #3
He looked up at her then and saw the disgust on her face, the revulsion she couldna??t hide.
He felt fury and frustration in equal amounts.
a??Didna??t that damned Viking show you his mana??s rod?
Didna??t you touch him, caress him with your hands, take him in your mouth?
Was his rod so great, then, Zarabeth? Aye, he is young and vigorous, but I tell you, even he is sometimes like this. Touch me, damn you!a??
She took a step back, then another. She was shaking her head, covering her breasts with her hands. a??Please, Olav, I cannot. I am a maid. I have never before seen a mana??s body, nay, not the Vikinga??s. Please, you cannot want me to caress you now . . . not like this.a??
He stared down at himself and knew it was no good. He was shriveled and dead. Then he looked up at her, saw that shea??d covered herself again with her nightshift, and laughed, at himself, at the irony of his life.
a??A beautiful young wife . . . just look at you, all that red hair, and your body, so glorious and soft, so very white your flesh, and I can do nothing save gaze upon you.
Ah, yes, youa??re a maid, Zarabeth, and I offend you by showing you my limp manhood.
Go to bed. I wish to sleep. I will regain my strength, you will see.
I will cover you and come inside you and you wona??t have to see me like this again.
Aye, Ia??ll be a man again and youa??ll be obedient to my demands.a??
She fled, dumb with relief.
Magnus stood on the high mound outside his fortified farmstead, Malek, and looked west toward the upper end of the Gravak Valley.
It was high summer, and there was much work to do in the fields.
Soon would come the harvest and he would join all his men and women and work from dawn until twilight dimmed the night skies and he fell exhausted into his bed.
He looked at the steep fir-tree slopes on the far side of the fjord, immensely beautiful land that dropped gradually into water that was in many places over one hundred feet deep at the shore.
The green of the tree-thick mountains was vivid against the crystal blue of the water.
It was his home and hea??d know no other.
It was always with joy that he returned here to the valley of his birth, the valley that had belonged to his family for more generations than he could remember.
There were many people in the valley now, and soon, like so many other Norwegians, they would be land-hungry, for the earth could not feed their numbers.
But for now, the land was fertile and the weather had blessed them with rain aplenty and the wheat and rye and corn grew deep and rich in the soil.
It would be another generation, at least, perhaps his son, who would leave the valley to conquer new lands and settle them and rule them.
Upon his return to the valley this time, his wealth had further increased, but it had brought him no joy, for there was the gnawing emptiness and savage fury that mingled in seemingly equal parts within him.
He moved, restless now, striding to the edge of the cliff that formed the outward boundary of his farmstead, and felt the pain of it, the sheer rage of it fill him.
By Odina??s wounds, what was wrong with him that she would scorn him?
Was he so repellent of character? So scrawny of body that she didna??t like the notion of bedding with him?
Perhaps it was just that, in the end, she found she couldna??t leave her home to journey to an unknown foreign land.
Perhaps she simply hadna??t trusted him enough. Perhaps she had lied throughout.
He slammed his fist against his thigh and winced with the pain of his own blow.
Damn her! He should have simply taken her and brought her back with him.
Hea??d given her choice, and shea??d turned on him.
To give a woman choice was foolishness. He hadna??t been a man with her, he hadna??t taken away her fanciful, capricious choices as his father would have done, as both his brothers would have done.
Aye, they would have laughed at her if she had dared to dismiss them so plainly, and carried her away screaming, paying her no heed. Aye, hea??d been a fool.
What was wrong with him that she would scorn him? No woman before had scorned him. Why Zarabeth? Why the one woman hea??d wanted to wed?
He turned at his sistera??s voice. a??Aye? What is it you want, Ingunn?a??
a??You brood. It worries me, Magnus. It worries all of us, your men included. You say so little, criticize your men more than is their due, and yell and scowl at your slaves. You dona??t even take Cyra to your bed as you used to.a??
a??Ha! I did naught but plow her belly when I came home. I took her until she could scarce walk.a??
a??Aye, but then you dismissed her. She feels sorely tried, as if shea??s failed you in some way.a??
He shrugged, not looking at Ingunn, but staring fixedly toward the northern side of the fjord. Why in the name of Thora??s hammer Ingunn should care a whit about Cyraa??s feelings was beyond him.
a??Ita??s a woman, isna??t it? You met a woman on your travels and she gnaws at you.a??
He laughed at that. a??You make me sound like a bone our fathera??s hound would tease.a??
He felt her fingers on his tunic sleeve.
a??Nay, brother, jest not, for our father also wonders what eats at you.
He said you werena??t interested in the mena??s drinking or the tale-singing at his hall.
He said you moped and said aught and acted a morose lovesick boy.
But he always says there is a raging anger in you, great anger, and there will be bloodletting before your anger finishes its course.a??
Again Magnus shrugged. It was true, all of it, yet it was a private matter and he wanted to hold it to himself alone.
He supposed he should be pleased that the men who knew of Zarabeth had kept their mouths firmly closed.
It concerned none other, not his father, not his brothers, certainly not Ingunn.
Suddenly he smiled, a grim smile, a vicious smile. He turned then with sudden irrevocable decision, and felt that a rock had lifted from his chest. a??I am leaving on the morrow. Prepare food enough for a journey of thirty days for twelve men. I will do more trading in Birka. Hurry now, Ingunn.a??
She didna??t want to obey him, but she had no choice. She disbelieved him. Birka was the last place he was going. She left him without another word to do his bidding. She turned once to see him standing in the same spot, staring off at the fjord, but not looking at the clear cold water.
What was he seeing?