I t was the storm that gave Kristen away, and it was not even a bad storm, at least not yet. But as soon as the ship had started riding the bucking waves, she started retching. A fine sailor she made. She had forgotten it had been this way the last time she sailed. The least disturbance to the sea, and she could not hold on to the contents of her stomach.
Someone had heard her retching and had opened the hatch to the cargo well. After one look at her, the sailor had slammed the hatch back down. She did not even see who it was, nor did she care at the moment, for the pitching of the ship grew steadily worse.
She had been so fortunate until now. She had managed to sneak out to her brothers' rooms behind the stable and borrow a set of Thorall's clothes to wear for the voyage, though she brought along some of her own gowns to wear when they reached the trading towns. Getting into the cargo well had been the easiest part, for only one man had been left to watch the ship, and though he sat near the cargo well, he had nodded off to sleep. Kristen, quick and nimble despite her height, had seized the opportunity. And the cargo well had kept her quite comfortable even if it was pitch-dark inside. It was piled high with soft furs to hide behind and make her a nice bed.
So it had done for two days. She could have hoped for at least one more day before revealing herself, for the food she had brought would last that long. It was not to be. The storm had revealed her now. And although no one came yet to confront her, inevitably someone would.
To Kristen, it seemed as if that third day had come and gone by the time the hatch was opened again and the light of day flooded down on her. She stiffened herself to prepare for battle to the extent that her weakened body would allow, which was not much. She still felt miserable, even though the storm was finally over.
It was Selig who dropped down into the well. Kristen lay where she had last been tossed, practically at his feet. The light hurt her eyes, and she couldn't manage to look up and face it. It was his voice, hard with anger, that told her who it was.
"Do you know what you have done, Kristen?"
"I know," she answered weakly.
"Nay, you do not!"
She shielded her eyes in an attempt to see his expression, but still could not. "Selig, please, I cannot look up at the light yet."
He squatted down beside her, grabbing a fistful of the thick fur vest she wore over the tight leather tunic, which managed to flatten her breasts. Darkly his eyes scanned the tightly gartered leggings and the soft-skinned high boots trimmed in fur. Her waist was girded with a wide belt, the large buckle set with tiny emeralds.
"Where did you get these?" he demanded of the clothes.
"They are not yours," she assured him. "I borrowed them from Thorall, since he is still closer to my height and—"
"Shut up, Kristen!" he snapped at her. "Do you know what you look like?"
"Like one of your crew?" she ventured, trying to tease him out of his anger.
It didn't work. His gray eyes were as dark as the storm that had just passed. He looked as if he longed to hit her and it was taking all his strength not to.
"Why, Kristen? Never before have you done anything this foolish!"
"There are several reasons." She could see her brother clearly now that he was down on her level, but she avoided his eyes when she added, "One reason was the adventure."
"Worth Father's fury?"
"That was only one reason. There was also the fact that I want to wed, Selig, but there is no one at home that I want. I hoped to meet many new men at the great market towns."
"Father would have taken you," he stated coldly.
"I know. Mother already told me he might do that when you returned or, if not then, in the spring."
"But you decided not to wait. Just like that!" He snapped his fingers. "You defy—"
"Wait, Selig. There was one other reason. There was someone—and I will not give a name, so do not ask—but someone who meant to force me to wed him by—by taking me."
"Dirk!" he exploded.
"I said no names, Selig. But I could not tell anyone about this man, or I would never have been able to go anywhere or do anything by myself. Father would have dealt with him, but would not have killed him with no harm done yet. And a talking to or a beating—well, I do not think that would have dissuaded this particular man. I would have lost my freedom, so I felt the best thing to do was take myself away for a while, and if I might find myself a husband at the same time, then all the better."
"Odin help me!" he swore. "I should have expected no better reasoning from a woman."
"Unfair, Selig! I told you it was all those reasons combined that decided me," she said defensively.
"More like it was only the excitement of adventure that decided you, for there are ways to deal with a man such as you describe and you know it!"
"Father would not have killed him for simply making threats against me."
"But I would have."
She looked narrowly at him. "You would have killed him just for wanting me? Would you kill every man who wants me?"
"Every one who thinks to have you whether you say yea or nay."
She grinned at him now, knowing it was just the brother in him talking. "Then there is no problem. You will be all the protection I will need in the market towns."
"If you were going, which you are not," he retorted. "You are going home."
"Oh, nay, Selig! The men would never forgive me if so much time was wasted."
"They will every one of them agree to take you home!"
"But why? Where is the harm if I go along? You are only going trading." At his furious look, her eyes widened with a particular thought and lit up with excitement. "You are going Viking!"
At that moment their cousin Hakon appeared at the hatch opening. "You told her, Selig? Thor! That was a fool thing to do," the blond giant grumbled.
"Idiot!" Selig stood up to glare at the younger man. "You just told her! She had only guessed before."
Hakon dropped down into the well to stare eye to eye with Selig. "So now what will you do? Take her home so she can tell your father?"
Selig rolled his eyes heavenward. "I swear, Hakon, you are a veritable font of information. How our enemies would love to get their hands on you."
"What did I say?"
Selig did not deign to answer that, but looked down at Kristen, who was smiling widely now. "You would not tell Father, would you?" he asked in the most hopeful tone she had ever heard from him.
"What do you think?"
He groaned at her for such an answer, but he took his anger out on Hakon, pulling his fist back and sending the younger man falling into the pile of furs. He followed the blow by diving on top of Hakon, who retaliated in true Viking fashion.
Kristen let the fight go on for several minutes before she interrupted in a tone just loud enough so they would hear her above their grunts of pain. "If you think to make me feel guilty by having to look at two bruised faces on the morrow, I must disappoint you, for I will not take credit for your sport."
Selig rolled over and sat up to growl at her. "I should throw you into the sea, Kristen. Then I would only have to tell our parents you drowned, instead of having to confess I took you Viking. I think they would rather hear that you drowned."
She crawled over to him on her hands and knees and gave him a kiss on the cheek that was already starting to swell, then sat back on her haunches to grin at him. "Give in gracefully, Brother, and tell me where we are going."
"That is something you do not need to know, so do not ask again. You will stay on the ship and out of sight."
"Selig!" But he ignored her plea and pulled himself out of the well. She turned on Hakon, who was just standing. "Will you tell me?"
"And have him mad at me for the rest of the voyage? Have a heart, Kristen."
"Oh, unfair!" she cried at his back as he left her, too.