The Captive - By Joanne Rock Page 0,25
seems strange to me that just yesterday, I threw my embroidery down and complained heartily over the mundane boredom of such pursuits while the men stood on the walls and prepared for battle.”
“Maybe you have a warrior’s heart.”
“Nay.” She shook her head, understanding herself better than that. “I have an adventurer’s spirit like my mother and father. They wandered far and wide while I’ve been tethered tight to my overlord’s home or my husband’s home my whole life. Yet now, I sit outside under the stars, far from home, experiencing exactly the kind of thing that I longed for then.”
“You are having an adventure.” Wulf poured himself a cup of mead from his wineskin and raised the vessel. “Here’s to new quests and safe voyages.”
“You are quick to toast my exploits, but not as fast to share your strong potion tonight, I notice.” Her mouth watered at the memory of the taste. “Is that part of your vow to protect me, I wonder?”
She did not know what madness prompted her to ask when his potent libation had kept her spellbound through his kiss the previous night.
“You are in charge of your own adventure.” He handed her the cup, the scent of clover and honey intoxicating her before she even took a sip. “And I do not think a bit of mead will do you any harm.”
His deep voice wrapped around her in the dark, the sound as pleasing to her ear as the dinner had been to her tongue. She had been surrounded by the high chatter of unhappy women who did not really like her for so long that Wulf’s rich tone, punctuated by periods of total quiet, soothed her.
“Thank you.” She sipped carefully, respecting the power of the brew after the experience of the night before. Still, the spicy magic infiltrated her veins quickly, infusing her blood with sweet warmth. “I am surprised you have so much left. I thought we drank more last night.”
He must have packed his supplies well, in fact, because he possessed more of everything than she would have guessed they could carry. Then again, Wulf had carted her, her bag and his bag the whole way. The Dane was so hearty and strong she almost wondered if he’d wandered out of Valhalla itself.
“The joy of strong mead is that a small amount goes a long way.”
“I have learned this well.” Grinning, she took one more sip before passing the cup back to him.
His hand brushed hers as he took it, and the charge that ran through her felt like a lightning strike. This was not an effect of the mead, she knew. Although the fact that her fingers remained there a bit longer than necessary could probably be attributed to the drink and the way it made her blood run thick in her veins like the sweet honey it had been made from.
“Tell me about your family.” Wulf joined her on the log, bringing a blanket with him and tossing it over her legs as the night turned fully dark. “You are an only child?”
“Yes.” She tucked her hand beneath the blanket to limit the possibility of more accidental touches. As curious as she might be about Wulf and her reaction to him, she was not ready to explore such tumultuous feelings with a man who could offer her no future. “My father was born to a maid of Byzantium, though he was the son of a Wessex lord. He lived there for almost ten years while his father established trade for the king, and he grew up with a fine education. When he returned to his father’s home, he sought the best monastery schools to study with the monks and won acclaim for his math and healing. But he was most sought after for his translations. He spoke, read and wrote in many languages.”
“What of your mother?” Wulf pointed out a shooting star in the clear night sky as he spoke.
Idly, she wondered if the sight was so common to him that it hardly bore remarking. For her part, she’d never seen the like and her eyes lingered on the spot where the bright flare of light had disappeared.
“My mother told me all of those things about my father’s past,” she explained, drawing on vivid memories of the woman who had been such a strong force in their home. “She was quick to tout her husband’s brilliant mind and abilities, as he was frequently lost in his studies for days on end