Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [137]
Fyodor dug a hand into his hair and stared helplessly at the girl. He had not imagined anything like this might come with the role he'd accepted! And yet, it seemed to him that the Northwoman's words held little truth. He lifted one eyebrow and fixed a skeptical gaze upon her.
The young woman sighed and then shrugged. "Very well, perhaps it is not the expected custom. But there must be an heir to Holgerstead-a hamfariggen warrior who can lead the berserkers in battle. The oracles say i can bear such a son. If you give me a child, i could leave this household and go back to my village with honor. It would be a gift," she said softly, her pale eyes pleading. "To Holgerstead, to all of Ruathym. To me. Even to Wedigar," she concluded with a touch of bitterness.
Fyodor knew a surge of pity for the young woman, for Wedigar was not a man for pretense, and it was clear to all that the First Axe was not happy about the need to take a second wife. And having witnessed Alfhilda's courage and loyalty, Fyodor did not wonder that Wedigar had eyes for no other woman. Not even one as undeniably beautiful as Dagmar.
As if sensing the path Fyodor's thoughts had taken, the young woman stepped away from him and began to tug at the laces that fastened her overtunic. She stripped off gown and blouse quickly, then raked her hands through her braids until her hair fell into long golden waves. The faint light of a crescent moon filtered in through the window, glimmering on her pale hair and white skin. She went to his bed and lay down upon it.
"A gift," she repeated softly.
For a moment the young man was honestly tempted. But an emotion stronger than sympathy, deeper than desire, ruled Fyodor's heart. He reached for his discarded clothing. Dagmar watched with despairing eyes as he dressed and gathered up his belongings.
"But why?" she demanded. "Why do you leave? Are you not like other men, that you do not take pleasures freely offered? Or am i displeasing to you-is that it?"
"You are most beautiful; no one who is truly a man could deny that. But i cannot betray a friend," he responded as he walked to the door.
"But you would not! Wedigar would surely thank you!" Fyodor paused in the doorway and turned back to face the Northwoman. "i was speaking not of Wedigar, but of Liriel."
Chapter 19
The price of power
it was nearly dawn when Fyodor caught sight of the raofs of Ruathym village. A rustle in the bushes along the path caught his attention and, before he could draw a weapon, Liriel sprang out onto the path, her dark face joyful. She ran to meet him and threw herself into his arms.
Fyodor was accustomed to such gestures from the impulsive draw. She always drew away quickly, like lighting that flares and retreats. But this time she seemed to be in no hurry to part. Her arms were flung tightly about his neck, and her breath felt warm through the linen of his shirt.
Although he was loath to end the embrace, Fyodor buried his hands in the drow's wild, snow-colored hair and tilted her face up so he could meet her eyes. "There are things i must tell you," he said somberly.
Liriel responded with a smile that warmed his blood and sent it singing urgently through his veins.
"There are those who think, and those who dream," she mocked him softly, "and then there are those who talk too damn much!"
Fyodor's answering smile was slow and incredulous. "it seems we have even more to talk about than i imagined." "Words can wait," she murmured, and the young man found himself in complete agreement.
impulsively he swept the dark-elven girl into his arms and carried her off into the forest. To his surprise Liriel did not object. Indeed, she guided his path with whispered directions and sped his step with pramises that would have seemed improbable had he not witnessed some of the other wonders of which she was capable. And in the moments when she did not speak, her lips and teeth found keenly sensitive places on his neck and throat and ears that he had not known he