Dark Riverbed

Beneath a Willow

THE DANES WERE READY TO DEPART BY DAWN. The sky was bluish grey over the thick canopy of summer trees, pink wisps of clouds smearing the east. Mist trailed in gossamer curls along the forest floor. The river was too far to be heard. She scanned the trees, but the tumbling current was no longer in sight.

"Come on, girl." After cutting the bonds at her feet, but retying them at her wrists, Sigurd of the Bite Mark jerked her to her feet. "Is she walking, Thorvid?"

With his sleeves folded to his elbows, Thorvid washed his hands and face in a bowl of water. Dipping forward, he splashed his scalp then shook his head like a dog, smoothing his fingers through his dripping beard before standing. His eyes, still bleary from sleep, grazed her with disinterest.

"Of course not. We don't need her sick and weary."

Sigurd turned to the tallest, pale blond Dane named Gudrik. "But we don't have an extra steed-"

"She'll be riding with me," Thorvid snapped impatiently, striding towards their horses. "Why on earth would I trust her with her own horse."

Ella stifled a smile at his tone, only for the dumbfounded look on Sigurd's face. He noticed and growled. "Come on then."

That earned her another swift jerk that made her shoulder pop in protest. Ella bit her tongue to keep from crying out, maintaining her air of icy apathy. She didn't want to give him the pleasure of hearing her discomfort.

"Careful with the baggage, Sigurd," Thorvid chastised as she was dragged towards him and his horse. "Now you've gotten vengeance for your wounded hand. That's enough."

"But not for his wounded pride," Gudrik muttered. Sigurd shot him a poisonous sneer with his meaty mouth and pinprick, piggy eyes.

Without preamble, Thorvid grasped her waist and hefted her onto the horse. Ella grappled for the saddle, trying to maintain her balance. Though she'd grown up on a dairy farm in rural New England, she had never ridden a horse in her life. She'd never live it down if she fell off the damn animal.

She hadn't realized what close company she would be keeping with Thorvid till he hopped up onto the animal behind her. Ella smoothed her skirts out over her legs as he reached around her for the reins. Her spine locked ram rod straight as his arms encircled her, hands lightly holding the rein.

Ella cleared her throat. "How far do we have to ride?"

"Why?" Thorvid asked. She could almost hear that mocking grin in his voice. "Already saddle sore?"

He clicked his tongue and kicked the horse's side. They jolted forward. Ella grabbed his hands to keep from losing her balance. She ripped away as he chuckled to himself, pulling up behind Gudrik as they rode into the wood.

"Don't worry, princess. You're worth far too much for me to simply toss off the back of a horse."

Grimly, she wondered how much she would be worth if it ever came to light that she wasn't Princess Aethylthryth. How long would it be till the jig was up and Thorvid realized that she had lied to him?

She hoped she might hold out a little longer till the truth came to the surface. She would think about that later. Right now, all Ella was conscious of were the heaving sides of the trotting horse under her thighs and Thorvid's battle hardened chest tight at her shoulder blades.

They rode strong for a couple hours till the horses needed rest and water, especially Thorvid's. It's sides were slick with sweat and it wasn't even midday. They stopped in the cool of the trees by a river bank. Thorvid leaped to the ground.

"You have five minutes." Thorvid gripped her hips and slid her down to the ground, not looking her in the eye. Brushing past, he led the horse to the water's edge. "Do not wander."

Ella's wrists were still bound. The leather strap had chafed raw the underside of her forearm. She arched her back, every muscle stiff. She stopped beneath a willow. Green ribbons dripped around her, trailing in the gilt surface of the river. Birdsong filled the fresh air. Kneeling, she dipped her fingers in the river.

Her breath came fast as she realized how terrified her family would be when they found that she was missing. It would be noted on national news channels, both in her country and in England. An American student, a young woman with promise, had vanished without a trace. Her senior picture from two years earlier would be plastered on TV screens.

Her parents would hop the first plane for Heathrow. Her sister would be bouncing her little son in front of CNN, Fox News, or NBC, her phone within reach. Her friends would be frantic.

A twig broke behind her. Ella gasped. Rising to her feet, she whipped around. A spray of sunlight made Thorvid's beard and the bristle on his scalp glow dark gold more than sandy brown. He pressed his lips together and looked past her face towards the glistening water, his face warming as though he were ashamed.

Ella's cheeks were cold. Brushing her fingers over her face, she found that she had been crying. She hadn't even realized it.

"I'm-I'm sorry," she stuttered. Her act shattered as her shoulders slumped. "I'm just frightened and my family... I'm afraid I'll never see any of them again."

Her confession was met by stony silence. His narrow gaze cemented on the river beyond and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"The horses are ready. We need to go." His tone was flat, unfeeling.

Wiping her cheeks dry with a quick hand, wrists still bound, Ella gathered herself. Pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin, she took on the facade of the icy Saxon princess once again. She glared imperiously at the Dane.

Clearly, she meant nothing more to him than a pay off. The sooner he sold her back to Aelfred for a ransom of gold, the better. Maybe the king would have more of a heart than this robot.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she murmured, moving through the silvery green leaves towards their horses.

He spoke an order to Gudrik on the lead horse. As he strode towards her, his manner was still businesslike. He surprised her as he grasped her forearm and studied the reddened skin on the underside of her wrist.

She recoiled as he slid a knife out from a holster at his back. He tugged her towards him, firmly but not aggressively. With a quick motion, he expertly cut the bonds from her hands then released her. He sheathed the knife.

"If you were uncomfortable, you should have said something."

He grasped her waist with strong hands and deposited her onto the saddle once again. He walked to the front of the horse to adjust the bridle. He wasn't looking at her, countenance broiling in thought.

"Of course," she replied, her tongue sharp. She was confused by his actions, but still stinging with grief over her family. "Don't want to damage the goods."

"Correct."

He mounted the horse and wrapped his arms around her yet less rigid this time. His breath stirred the loose hair at her ear. Her braids had long fallen from their knot into two plaits on her shoulders.

"How much longer till we reach your brothers?"

"We won't arrive till tomorrow morning. We will camp one more night in the forest... alright?"

She scoffed as he sounded unsure for the first time since she'd met him. "I thought my opinions didn't matter to you. I am your hostage after all."

His body stiffened behind her as though he had taken offense. "Need to keep you healthy and strong is all. Like a prize mare."

Ella swallowed down her anger at his careless words. He had meant it as a dig and it worked.

"No need to reiterate how you feel about me, Thorvid. I get the picture."

"... I'm glad we understand each other."

Something about the conflict in his voice made her wonder if they really did.