“Yes.We dirty Christiansdo this once a week, whether we need it or not.Theo insisted onit.Come on—the salt water will help heal you.”
Fen put out a defensive hand when Caireached to help him lift the cassock over his head, so Cai steppedback and let him get on with it.He kept his attention on therocks, the rainbow gleam of sea urchins and cockleshells throughthe sunlit water.He’d seen a hundred naked men before, and oncethey passed into his hands as patients their bodies lost allsignificance to him but the parts of them that needed healing.Fen’s splendid shadow was only an image, a thing to admire from hisnew, cold distance.
He took the cassock wordlessly,choosing not to complain that Fen had thrust it at him with aprincely disregard.Not this time, anyway.“All right.Get inslowly.If you stay off the kelp, you won’t slip.”
“You too.”
“What?”
“You too.Prove to me thatthis insane immersion is truly your practice, and not just youreffort to freeze me to death, or drown me.”
“Oh, for God’s…” Cai beganto strip off his own robe.He didn’t want to get into the water.Hedidn’t want to be reminded of his last visit here, the warmthinside his marrow, the pleasant exhaustion that came after loving.Now that he’d gone to the trouble of getting Fen down here, hedidn’t really care what happened to either of them.If this was thequickest way of dealing with him, so be it.He splashed into thewater, slithering himself on the seaweed, righted himself andreached up his hands.“Here.Get in.”
Fen picked his way down the rock.Fora big man, he moved with a cautious grace that made Cai want tolaugh despite the chilly numbness in his breast, and he clutchedCai’s wrists like a scared child.“Gods, monk!”he rasped when hewas knee-deep.“No wonder you can keep your vows.Who would carefor the pleasures of frig after this?”
“That’s not exactly how itworks.Anyway, how can a rock pool be so cold to you after you’vecrossed the North Sea on a raid?”
“We cross the sea in boats,in case you didn’t notice.How is it that your bollocks haven’tcrawled up into your belly forever?”
Cai, not quite hip-deep in the water,struggled not to follow Fen’s gaze.“Well, if yours do,” he said,pulling him down to stand beside him, “it’s surely the least youdeserve.”He waited till Fen was off balance, then put a handbetween his shoulders and shoved him into the pool.
He listened with interest.Some of thelanguage he was hearing was similar to Broc’s, when a horse or adog had annoyed him beyond endurance.Fen struggled in the water,submersing completely, then flipping back out like one of thesilver-skinned porpoises Cai saw from time to time on fishing tripsout beyond the islands.He shouldn’t have been out of his depth,and even if he was…
The fear that this great seafaringpirate couldn’t swim seized Cai like a cold hand.He plunged inafter him, stilling his frantic movements with an arm around hischest.“Easy.Don’t thrash about so.What’s wrong withyou?”
“Nothing.”Fen fought for afew seconds more, then lost a sobbing, coughing breath, the back ofhis skull resting on Cai’s shoulder.“I am cold.I hurt where youstabbed me.And I don’t…”
“Yes?”Cai was interestedin this string of nothings.“What else?”
“I don’t understand why mybrother hasn’t come back to slit all your throats in the night andrescue me.”
It was on Cai’s lips to tell himthat one Viking raider was as treacherous as the next—to ask himwhat he had expected.The ragged wound with its crude stitchesgaped a dreadful blue-black beneath the water.Where you stabbed me…Fen had never saidas much before, as if he hadn’t taken the injury personally,accepting it as one of the chances of war.“What happened thatnight?Why did they leave you behind?”
“They did not.They wouldnot.”
“And yet here youare.”
“Through no fault ofGunnar’s.Or Sigurd’s, for that matter.They must have thought Iwas dead.”
“I’ve heard legends thatyour kind leave no one behind.Not even a corpse.”
Fen dispensed with his grasp.After anungainly movement or two, he seemed to find his rhythm.Of coursehe could swim.He struck out across the pool, putting as muchdistance as he could between himself and Cai.On the far side, hetried to haul out, finely corded muscles straining in his back.Then his strength failed him.He slid halfway back into the water,clutching at the rocks.“You will get me out of here,monk.”
“In a minute.”Cai swamover to him.Before Fen could object, he turned him, seizing hisnarrow hips and settling him so that he was sitting on a ledge, inthe place where the jade-blue water was most strongly warmed by thesun.Cai scooped up a handful of sand and rubbed it over Fen’sthigh, or tried to—he dodged a cuff aimed at his head andretreated.“Do it yourself, then.”
“What is itfor?”
“It cleanses you.Scrapesall the scabs and the lice off you.”Treading water, Cai watchedhim.He needed some attention himself.He hadn’t cared, over thelast couple of weeks, whether he was dirty or clean, and Aelfriccertainly hadn’t taken any trouble over the matter.He rubbed sandonto his own limbs, and Fen did the same, hands moving uncertainlyover his powerful shoulders.When he tried to reach down, though,pain shadowed his face.
“I cannot.”
“Let me.You must know bynow I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No.But you shame me—everyday, with your touch and your interference about my person, andyour questions about my water and my bowels.”
“I’m a physician.There’sno shame in that.”
“A Dane warrior should needno physic.A Dane warrior should need no…”
