that his cousin was trying to bait him. He forced himself
to take a breath before he did something unthinking like lunge for Grimar’s
throat and strangle the miserable life out of him.
“But if you throw her
overboard,” Eirik ground out between gritted teeth, “you’ll never know if she
can be of use to you after all.” The words sickened him to say. Taking a thrall
to bed was no better than taking a sheep—neither one had any say in the matter.
Grimar eyed him
calculatingly. “She’s not worth the trouble. She can’t carry much, she has no
sea legs, and she’s far too willful. She’s a runt—a runt who should have been
drowned a long time ago.”
Grimar shifted so that
Laurel was completely over the water that flashed alongside the swiftly moving
ship.
“Wait!” Eirik
exclaimed. He cursed himself a moment later for the urgency in his voice, for
Grimar glanced at him with a sideways smile.
“Mayhap…mayhap I can
take her off your hands for you, if she is such a burden,” Eirik said slowly.
“I could buy her from you.”
“And what would you pay
for such a useless thrall, cousin?” Grimar said, his sly smile widening.
Eirik swallowed,
feeling his crew’s attention focused on the scene at the bow. “I’ll give you my
share of the loot from the monastery we just raided.”
Several murmurs of
surprise rose behind him.
“Eirik!” Laurel cried,
her eyes locked on him. “What is happening? Please help!”
Eirik forced himself to
ignore Laurel’s panicked cries. He couldn’t show any more weakness to Grimar,
lest his cousin exploit it for his own sick play at power.
Grimar made a show of considering
the offer. “Nei, I think not. ’Twould be unfair of me to sell you something so
worthless,” he said, the smile returning to tease around the corners of his
mouth.
Grimar shifted again,
and Laurel screamed, clawing frantically at Grimar as she was tilted closer
toward the rushing water.
“Double it, then!”
Eirik shouted, no longer able to think straight. It was as if he could see
naught but Laurel’s small frame clinging desperately to Grimar, tears streaming
down her dirty cheeks, eyes wide in terror.
A whoosh of air left
Grimar’s chest. Eirik’s eyes flickered to him, and he cursed himself. Grimar’s
whole body had relaxed. He wore the same smile, and now his eyes blazed again
with the light of recognition.
Grimar knew.
He knew as well as
Eirik that Eirik had lost and he had won. Eirik had shown his weakness, and
Grimar had outmaneuvered him to deliver a blow.
“You truly want her
badly, don’t you, cousin?” Grimar asked, play-acted sympathy dripping from his
voice.
Eirik could only nod.
He didn’t even have the words to explain to himself why he was so taken with
the girl, why he’d acted so foolishly since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.
Nor could he explain why Grimar hungered so badly to hurt him. All he could
make sense of at the moment was that he had to protect Laurel.
“Very well,” Grimar
said softly, lifting Laurel slightly in his arms.
Eirik reached out a
shaky hand, careful not to spook Grimar. Laurel’s dark brown eyes fell on him,
widening in desperate hope.
“Go and get her!” With
one hard thrust, Grimar tossed Laurel overboard. Her scream cut off sharply as
she hit the water.
In one step, Eirik
launched himself over the gunwale after her. Grimar’s laughter turned to a
surprised shout at Eirik’s unhesitating move. Alaric bellowed something from
the ship’s stern, but it sounded distant and small.
As the frigid water
enveloped him, all sound s were muffled. He
kicked and stroked his arms as hard as he’d ever done before. He had to reach
her.
Chapter Eight
Laurel thrashed
violently, grasping at the air even as she sank into the water. She flailed her
arms and legs, but her woolen gown felt like a stone around her. The ocean
pulled her down into itself, its cold fingers embedding into her flesh.
With a gurgled scream,
her
to take a breath before he did something unthinking like lunge for Grimar’s
throat and strangle the miserable life out of him.
“But if you throw her
overboard,” Eirik ground out between gritted teeth, “you’ll never know if she
can be of use to you after all.” The words sickened him to say. Taking a thrall
to bed was no better than taking a sheep—neither one had any say in the matter.
Grimar eyed him
calculatingly. “She’s not worth the trouble. She can’t carry much, she has no
sea legs, and she’s far too willful. She’s a runt—a runt who should have been
drowned a long time ago.”
Grimar shifted so that
Laurel was completely over the water that flashed alongside the swiftly moving
ship.
“Wait!” Eirik
exclaimed. He cursed himself a moment later for the urgency in his voice, for
Grimar glanced at him with a sideways smile.
“Mayhap…mayhap I can
take her off your hands for you, if she is such a burden,” Eirik said slowly.
“I could buy her from you.”
“And what would you pay
for such a useless thrall, cousin?” Grimar said, his sly smile widening.
Eirik swallowed,
feeling his crew’s attention focused on the scene at the bow. “I’ll give you my
share of the loot from the monastery we just raided.”
Several murmurs of
surprise rose behind him.
“Eirik!” Laurel cried,
her eyes locked on him. “What is happening? Please help!”
Eirik forced himself to
ignore Laurel’s panicked cries. He couldn’t show any more weakness to Grimar,
lest his cousin exploit it for his own sick play at power.
Grimar made a show of considering
the offer. “Nei, I think not. ’Twould be unfair of me to sell you something so
worthless,” he said, the smile returning to tease around the corners of his
mouth.
Grimar shifted again,
and Laurel screamed, clawing frantically at Grimar as she was tilted closer
toward the rushing water.
“Double it, then!”
Eirik shouted, no longer able to think straight. It was as if he could see
naught but Laurel’s small frame clinging desperately to Grimar, tears streaming
down her dirty cheeks, eyes wide in terror.
A whoosh of air left
Grimar’s chest. Eirik’s eyes flickered to him, and he cursed himself. Grimar’s
whole body had relaxed. He wore the same smile, and now his eyes blazed again
with the light of recognition.
Grimar knew.
He knew as well as
Eirik that Eirik had lost and he had won. Eirik had shown his weakness, and
Grimar had outmaneuvered him to deliver a blow.
“You truly want her
badly, don’t you, cousin?” Grimar asked, play-acted sympathy dripping from his
voice.
Eirik could only nod.
He didn’t even have the words to explain to himself why he was so taken with
the girl, why he’d acted so foolishly since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.
Nor could he explain why Grimar hungered so badly to hurt him. All he could
make sense of at the moment was that he had to protect Laurel.
“Very well,” Grimar
said softly, lifting Laurel slightly in his arms.
Eirik reached out a
shaky hand, careful not to spook Grimar. Laurel’s dark brown eyes fell on him,
widening in desperate hope.
“Go and get her!” With
one hard thrust, Grimar tossed Laurel overboard. Her scream cut off sharply as
she hit the water.
In one step, Eirik
launched himself over the gunwale after her. Grimar’s laughter turned to a
surprised shout at Eirik’s unhesitating move. Alaric bellowed something from
the ship’s stern, but it sounded distant and small.
As the frigid water
enveloped him, all sound s were muffled. He
kicked and stroked his arms as hard as he’d ever done before. He had to reach
her.
Chapter Eight
Laurel thrashed
violently, grasping at the air even as she sank into the water. She flailed her
arms and legs, but her woolen gown felt like a stone around her. The ocean
pulled her down into itself, its cold fingers embedding into her flesh.
With a gurgled scream,
her
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