CHAPTER TWO
Eric stared at the woman, recognizing the fear in her eyes. In truth, he had no idea what was happening to him. Weariness had caused him to simply accept what was before him—but this dream was becoming more real than he could have imagined. At first, he’d believed that he had survived the shipwreck and had landed upon the shores of Norway. But now, he was beginning to wonder.
It felt as if his life had been shattered into jagged pieces, put back together in ways he didn’t understand. He had never before heard the language this woman had spoken…and yet he understood every word.
How was that even possible? It unnerved him, as if he had stepped into another man’s life.
The cold chill that washed over him had nothing to do with the sea water and everything to do with the moments when he’d been drowning. He had felt the presence of someone else within his mind.
Some of the sailors had traveled to the Far East and had told stories of holy wise men who believed that death was only a doorway to another birth. They claimed that all men were brought back into life a second time, to change their mistakes. It wasn’t the faith he’d been taught as a child…but what if it were true?
Could his soul have been reborn into another life? Or worse, switched with another man’s?
When he studied this woman, he knew her somehow. He searched for memories, and the pieces came together. Katarina Larsdottir was her name, and she had an older brother and a younger sister. More memories came forward, and the sudden surge was overwhelming. He locked away the images, closing his mind against the tide of visions that were not his.
My God, he was going mad. Although he’d had many dreams that had left him shaken upon awakening, this was by far, the most vivid.
It isn’t real,he repeated to himself.None of it is real.Not the primitive longhouses of this settlement, not the fierce maiden who stood before him, and certainly not the language she spoke. When he’d attempted to speak English, only confusion had flickered in her eyes. And somehow, he had understood the Norse language she was speaking.
It was unlike any dream he’d had before. He could still feel the heat of the fire warming his bare skin. His senses were alert, and the dark aroma of burning wood mingled with the earthen floor. He’d tasted the barley bread, and the food had eased his hunger. Never in his life had he experienced anything like this, and it unnerved him.
He stared back at the woman. Though she was beautiful, there was a sharpness to her. In her hand, she gripped a blade. From the coolness in her eyes, he knew she would not hesitate to strike if she believed he was dangerous.
He lifted his hands to show he meant no harm, but she never lowered the weapon. In her blue eyes, he saw a raw fear that belied her threatening manner. Eric held himself motionless, knowing that the slightest movement could provoke her.
He could not understand any of what was happening, and he didn’t know whether any of this was real. But he believed one truth—if he told Katarina that he was not Arik Thorgrim, she would kill him where he stood.
There was no alternative but to try speaking the unfamiliar language and hope that the words held meaning. If this was all conjured from within his mind, then he would be able to speak. He concentrated, searching for the words he needed. But the harder he tried to think of the correct speech, the more he struggled. A sense of unrest heightened within him, and he struggled to find calm.
Let go,he told himself.Trust that the words will be there.If it was indeed naught but a dream, he would know what to say.
“I do not know what happened to me,” he told her. “But I know this place. And I know you.”
He let the foreign words flow through him, not understanding how he knew any of them. It was the strangest feeling, speaking words with the fluency of a man born to this place. And yet, shedidseem to understand him.
The chill that washed over his body was a fear beyond any he had known. He was a man who needed to be in command of his life and in this, he had no control at all.
Katarina’s fingers trembled, and for a long moment, she remained silent, almost unwilling to trust him. “Your scars are gone. What happened to them?”
“I do not know.” He wanted to tell her the truth, that he had no scars—but he suspected that his life depended on his ability to become the man she called Arik Thorgrim. Until he awakened from this madness, he had to go along with it.
Katarina moved closer, still holding the blade. With one palm, she moved her bare hand over his chest, down his ribs. The light touch seared him, and he tried to hold back his response. But this woman fascinated him, for he’d never met anyone like her. Her face held the exotic beauty of a foreigner, and those blue eyes held the fierce strength of a goddess. Her long blond hair drifted around her hips as if it had never been cut.
Her fingers grazed his ribs, and his skin tightened as she continued to explore his chest. “Arik Thorgrim was in many battles. His flesh was scarred, the way yours is not.” With a swift motion, she jerked the blade to the underside of his throat.
The coldness of the iron blade was all too real. He forced himself not to pull away while Katarina held the knife to his throat. Never in his life had he been faced with a situation like this. The women of his acquaintance were shy and well-mannered. Although they might have been irritated with their fathers or brothers, they would never dream of pulling a knife.
Swiftly, he stepped back and caught her wrist, tightening his grip. “Drop the blade, Katarina.”
Her face held only fury. “Who are you?”
“You know who I am.” He twisted her wrist and forced her to surrender the knife. Then he spun her around and held her against his chest. “I will not harm you, but neither will I let you try to kill me.” She tried to wrench free of him, but he held her steady. In her eyes, he saw frustration blended with fear.
“What happened to you?” she asked. “Why did they say you were dead?”
Eric had no notion of how to reply. He was convinced that he had to be dead or dreaming, for this experience lacked all basis of reality. He softened his grip upon Katarina and said, “There is a great deal that I do not remember. Some memories were taken from me.”
“What about the men who traveled with you? Where are they now?” she demanded.
