“I care not what god you believe in,” he retorted. “Put the knife down, Kristen.”
She shook her head at him. She was calm now, he could see, now that she had a weapon in her hand. And, by Odin, she was magnificent, standing there stark naked with water glistening all over her, her breasts taunting him with their fullness, her soft, flat belly above that thatch of tawny gold hair between her legs. And she was daring him, daring him to make the slightest move toward her, and holding the knife as if she knew exactly how to wield it.
“I think your mother taught you more than to love her God.” Bitterness rose in his voice. “Your father and brothers would never have taught you skill with that toy, nor condoned your learning, for it would be a slight to their ability to be able to protect you. The Lady Brenna taught you her Celtic tricks, did she? After all these years she should have learned her Celtic skill is no match for a Viking’s. What else did she teach you, Kristen?”
“I know the use of every weapon save the axe, for that is a clumsy instrument of death that requires no skill to wield,” she answered proudly.
“Clumsy only because you have not the strength to wield it,” he replied sourly. “And what would your father say if he knew? I wager he would take a strap to you and your mother both.”
“Will you tell him?” she taunted.
He glowered at her. Of course he wouldn’t tell her father, for then he would have to explain how he came to know. And the curving grin on her lips said she understood that. And thinking of Garrick Haardrad, who was half a foot taller than he and still a fine figure of a man even at two score and six years, cooled some of Dirk’s ardor—but not all of it.
His brown eyes probed hers. “What is wrong with me, Kristen, that you will not have me?”
This question took her by surprise, coming as it did with a note of confusion and softly uttered. He was as bare to the eye as she was, standing in stiff pride before her, and her eyes hesitantly moved over his long body. She was not unnerved by what she saw, for she had seen grown men naked when she and her best friend, Tyra, had snuck into her uncle’s bathhouse and hidden behind the water barrel to watch several of her cousins bathing. Of course, this was more than ten years ago, and there was yet another difference now from then. She had never before seen a man’s instrument of pleasure standing so straight and proud as Dirk’s was.
Kristen answered him truthfully, for what it was worth. “There is nothing wrong with you, Dirk. You have a very fine body and are pleasing to look upon. Your father has a rich farmstead, and you are his heir. A woman would be pleased to have you for husband.”
She didn’t add that Tyra would make a pact with the gods to have him and this was why Kristen wouldn’t consider him. Tyra had been in love with this man for the last five years, but he didn’t know that. And Kristen had sworn never to tell her friend’s secret to anyone, least of all to Dirk.
“You are simply not for me, Dirk Gerhardsen,” she finished firmly.
“Why?”
“You do not make my heart beat faster.”
He stared incredulously at her, demanding, “What has that to do with marriage?”
Everything, she told herself. To him, she said, “I am sorry, Dirk. I do not want you for my husband. I have already told you so.”
“Is it true you will marry Sheldon?”
She could lie and use that excuse to get out of this predicament, but she didn’t like lying just to make things easy. “Sheldon is like a brother to me. I have considered him, since my parents would like me to wed him, but I will reject his suit, too.”And he will be delighted, she added to herself,for he thinks of me as a sister, too, and feels just as uncomfortable with the thought of a marriage between us as I do.
“You will have to choose someone, Kristen. Every man along the fjord has asked for you at one time or another. You should have been wed long ago.”
This was not a pleasant subject for Kristen, since she knew her situation better than anyone, and there was not a single man along the river that she wanted to marry. She wanted a love like her parents had, but knew that eventually she would have to settle for less than that. She had been postponing it for several years now by rejecting all suits, and her parents had let her because they loved her. But she could not continue to do so indefinitely.
She became angry with Dirk for reminding her of her plight, which had been ever present in her mind for the last year. “Whom I choose will not concern you, Dirk, for it will not be you. Turn your mind to finding another, and please do not bother me again.”
“I could take you, Kristen, and force you to wed me,” he warned her softly. “Because you have turned down so many offers, your father could well give you to me after I ruin you for another. It has been done before this way.”
It was a possibility. Of course her father would beat him near to death first. But if Dirk still lived after that, she just might be given to him to wed. The fact that she would no longer be a maiden would have to be considered.
Kristen scowled at him. “If my father did not kill you, then I would. Do not be a fool, Dirk. I would never forgive such a foul trick.”
“But you would be mine.”
“I tell you I would kill you!”
“I think not,” he said with too much confidence for her liking. “I think the risk would be worth it.”
His eyes were on her breasts as he said this. Kristen stiffened. She should never have stood here talking to him. She should have leaped on Torden and ridden straight away instead of grabbing her dagger to face him.
“Then try it now, curse your eyes, and I will kill you beforehand!” Kristen hissed.
Dirk eyed her weapon again and saw her raise it in just such a way that it would surely find a mark before he could get it away from her. If only she weren’t nearly as tall as he was, and had the strength to go with the height…
