He thought of Elena and the way she often kept herself covered, even during lovemaking. She’d been shy of her body, never wanting him to see her bare skin...almost as if she were ashamed. Then, too, she’d kept her mind veiled as well, never revealing the thoughts she’d hidden within herself. He’d been married to her for five years, and it still felt as if they were strangers.
He reached towards the pouch at his belt and loosened the ties. The leather was stiff and damp, but he managed to pull out the ivory comb. As he stared at it, a tight fear rose up inside. He should have given it to Elena on board the ship. He should have spoken the words of reassurance that she’d needed to hear.
But then, he’d tried to talk to her, only to be spurned. He wasn’t good with words or trying to explain himself.
Caragh was the opposite. Like a small bird, she chattered and revealed everything she was thinking. Sometimes she revealed too much.
A note of danger threaded through his mind, as he thought of her clear violet eyes and her soft mouth. The longer he was around Caragh, the more he compared her to Elena, and it wasn’t right.
He told himself it was curiosity, nothing more. They weren’t even friends. Thor’s blood, she’d captured him and put him in chains. He owed her nothing at all. And because of her brother, he’d lost his wife. A wife he needed to find.
The will strengthened within him as he brushed aside idle thoughts of Caragh. Elena was his focus, and no matter how difficult the past few years had been, he wanted nothing to happen to her.
An insidious voice whispered the possibility that Elena was dead. The thought pierced him with fear. She was his responsibility to protect, and the days of sleeplessness had proved a weakness. It enraged him that he and his men had been brought down by a starving tribe. It never should have happened.
This morning, they had boarded the boat a second time. The sea was calmer now, and it was likely they could finish their journey up the coast without any further problems.
Styr risked a glance at Caragh and saw that her hair was still damp against her face. She wore the blue gown from before, with half of her hair braided back from her face. The rest hung down over her shoulders in dark, curling strands. The morning sun cast a glow over her face, but her expression held worry instead of reassurance. When the wind shuddered past her, he saw the way she gripped her arms, steadying herself.
“She hates the water,” Terence said, beneath his breath, as he joined Styr at the oars. “Ever since our da died, she’s gone nowhere near it.”
“She said he drowned.” He pulled hard, matching the pace of Terence.
“Aye. He went out during a storm and never came back.” The man turned to stare at him. “She has a gentle heart, our Caragh does. I don’t know why she bothered to save one like you.”
Styr made no remark, but increased his pace, forcing Terence to match him. The man did, but it didn’t take long before his breathing was labored, his wiry arms struggling to keep up.
“Going soft, are you, Irishman?” He sent a sidelong glance towards Terence.
The man narrowed his eyes. “It would be best if you stayed far away from our sister. I know Ronan approves of you, but I don’t.”
At that, Caragh crossed from the bow of the boat, climbing towards them until she faced both. It was clear that she’d overheard Terence’s remark. To her brother, she accused, “He took care of me when you left. I had no one else.”
“We came back,” Terence argued.
“And he stayed, when he didn’t have to.” Caragh crossed her hands upon her knees and looked into Styr’s eyes. There was gratitude there, along with a tension that reflected his own uncertainty. “After I released him, he could have gone. Instead, he helped me find food.”
Her gaze held his, and she reached out to touch his hand. Though it was only a gesture of thanks, the coolness of her fingers sent a ripple of awareness through him. He didn’t know what it was about this woman, but she affected him in a way he didn’t understand. He gripped her fingers in warning, abruptly releasing them.
“I would have drowned if it weren’t for Styr,” she said quietly.
He said nothing, for he should have allowed her brothers to save her. But when she’d been swept overboard, he’d plunged into an icy sea, determined to save her. He’d reacted on instinct, swimming hard to bring her to safety. She’d clung to him, so grateful for his rescue that a warmth had threaded through him. His brain had snarled at him to let her go, to ignore the way it felt to have a woman in his arms, her face pressed against his heart. Forbidden thoughts had no place between them.
Styr released her hand and took the oars again, while Terence did the same. Caragh tried to hold his gaze, but Styr wouldn’t look at her. Even so, he caught the look of disappointment in her eyes as she retreated to the bow of the boat.
They would reach Áth Cliath today, and he was glad of it. He planned to search the city everywhere until he found Elena. He needed to see her again, to hold her in his arms and banish all other thoughts.
If she was here.
Within the hour, he spied the city upon the horizon while they sailed into the port. At the sight of the walled longphort with the ordered rectangular dwellings, it was like returning to Hordafylke. Familiarity pulled at him, along with a tug of regret. Perhaps Ragnar was right, and they should have settled here. His people had named their settlement Dubh Linn, within the port of Áth Cliath. At least the people had blended enough with the Irish that they had made a place for themselves.
But as they drew closer, his spirits deflated. The city was vast, far larger than he’d expected. Dozens of ships dotted the shores, some anchored on land, others farther out. Immediately he began searching for a glimpse of his own ship, for it wouldconfirm the presence of Elena and his men. But there were so many of them.
Ronan moved up to row beside him, while Terence joined his sister at the bow. “Where do you think they are now?”
Styr shook his head. “I don’t see my ship. While they might be here, there’s no certainty of it. We’ll have to ask.” He glanced over at Ronan. “Have you been to this city before?”
“No. But we should split off to find them. Terence and I can go west and east, while you and Caragh take the north. We’ll meet back here by nightfall.”
