Sirens - The Gripping Beast Part 4

"Not likely," Lorelei grumbled. "But enough about me. Thank you for the information about your boat, but I meant, where are we, geographically speaking?"

"We are leaving Hedeby Noor."

"Uh huh." She let that sink in a moment. Then she asked, "What's Hedeby Noor?"

"The bay Hedeby is located on. You recall Hedeby," he prompted. "I bought you there."

She sat up and gave him a dirty look. "You what? You didn't buy me. I wasn't for sale."

"Yes, you were. And yes, I did. I bought you with hack silver."Lorelei gave him a startled look. "Bought? With hack silver? Are you talking about that coin-chopping bit? Do you mean you paid for me in small change?" Her voice rose sharply on the end of that question, and he frowned at the insolence.

"Hack silver. Not even thirty pieces," she muttered. She subsided into sullen silence for a moment, before grousing, "I'm a bargain bas.e.m.e.nt special. You had to tell me that? I am not impressed."

"You wish I had paid more dearly for you?"

"I wish you hadn't paid for me at all, since that thief had no more right to sell me than you had to buy me. But at least you could have come close to what I'm worth. I have a net that would make your hair curl." Lorelei shot him an indignant look. "I was on the cover of Rolling Stone last month. I haven't left the top ten in two years. And you buy me for a quarter? Oh, the ignominy of it all. I'll never live this one down." When Dane heard about it, he'd really have the story inquiring minds wanted to know, she concluded unhappily. Provided he ever did get to hear about it.

"From where do you come that you are so valued?"

"Hm? Oh, I think you guys called it Vinland. But for all I know you haven't been there yet. What year is it?"

His answer made her groan.

"It can't be, it just can't," she said. "I mean, what else could it be? But how did this happen? One day I'm minding my own business, then wham! I get thrown more than a thousand years into the past? Where's Carl Sagan when you need him?"

Erik's frowned. "You will tell me who this Carl Sagan is," he ordered.

"What?"

"Who is this Carl Sagan? You will answer."

Lorelei sighed. "The one who should be here, seeing this. He's into the cosmos. He'd probably even have an explanation for how this happened. Erik, I don't know how to tell you this, but you just bought a woman from the future."

There was a brief silence.

"You claim that you come from the future?" Erik inquired slowly.

"You got it, handsome." Lorelei patted his chest.

"You will cease to mock me," he stated.

"I mock not," she promised and leaned back against the solid, muscled chest he so thoughtfully provided. "I am from the future. What would you like to know about it? We've got all kinds of stuff you wouldn't believe. We've traveled to the moon. We have satellites and cellular phones. Voice mail. E-mail. We have computers and VCRs and microwaves. In a word, Erik, we have made instant gratification a science."

"Instant gratification?"

Lorelei nodded. "Instant food. Instant information. Instant communication with anyone, anywhere in the world. Zap, your wishes are granted at the touch of a b.u.t.ton. We can't do everything. We can't raise the dead, for instance, but we can freeze the terminally ill for future medical breakthroughs."

Erik eyed his prize with sinking sorrow. She was so beautiful. So soft and warm to the touch. True, she had a screech that could make him wish for deafness, but he had had such high hopes, nevertheless.

"I see," he stated gravely. He gently set her away and stood. "I must go see about setting our course," he informed her politely.

"Sure, go ahead." Lorelei dismissed him with a wave.

He backed cautiously out and made his way back on deck. For some time he simply stood, gazing sightlessly at the horizon and feeling the breeze in his face.

"Did you get her to stop her wailing?" Harold teased, coming up beside him.

Erik turned towards him slowly, collecting his thoughts.

"I hear no more sounds," Harold went on. "Did you teach her better things to do with her lips?"

Erik gazed at Harold for a moment. Then he answered. "No, little brother, I did not."

Harold gave him an amazed look. "And why not?"

Erik thought of her claims. That she came from the future. That wishes could be granted. That such things as food could be had instantly, when cooking and hunting took hours. That it was possible to speak with anyone, anywhere, instantly when it took weeks to travel even to the Danelaw and back to exchange messages.

It all added up to one inevitable conclusion. Perhaps she had been a n.o.blewoman sold into slavery. Perhaps she had been born a slave. But whatever her origins, she had been unable to accept the reality of her circ.u.mstances.

"Because," Erik stated morosely. "She is-how did she say it? A few bricks shy. Not fully decked. Full of bats. Harold, her wits are addled beyond belief. She is insane."

And, he continued savagely to himself, he could hardly force himself on a witless, defenseless woman. No matter how desirable she might otherwise be.

Chapter Four.

Lorelei guessed it was Barney's turn to feed the lunatic.

It was comical, really. The big man practically danced along on his tippy-toes, holding her dinner out as far away from himself as possible, placing it a safe distance from the dangerous madwoman before he practically ran for cover.

As if insanity was contagious.

"Thanks, Barney," she called after his fleeing form. Not that she was particularly hungry. But she did appreciate the thought.

Lorelei lounged back on the luxurious blanket, if that was what it was. Some sort of unusual fur, anyway, in the form of a throw rug or whatever. She frowned in irritation at the reminder that even the most familiar, everyday items were unrecognizable to her. Of course, if the shoe were on the other foot and the Vikings were in her time, they wouldn't even know how to get a drink of water.

There was some comfort in that thought.

Running one hand over the thick, speckled violet fur, Lorelei reflected that at least she had pleasant surroundings. It could have been worse. They could have left her in Heady-whatever to fend for herself. All in all, she had to admit they weren't a bad bunch to get bought or stolen by, if she had to be bought or stolen.

She would really have preferred to go home, though.

On a whim, she raised her legs until they were vertical to the deck, then clicked her emerald sequined heels together three times in midair as she lay on her back, chanting, "There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home."

She looked up to see Barney's horrified face frozen above her heels.

"Hi," Lorelei said cheerfully. He already thought she was nuts, so what did it matter if he caught her talking to herself?

The man stared back at her, shocked, then blurted out, "Here is water." He thrust a cup at her before he ran for his life the second time.

Brows raised, Lorelei gazed after him in wonder. Incredible. She had that muscle-bound warrior shaking in his shoes. Or the equivalent of shoes. Whatever the well-dressed Viking wore these days. But no matter what they might be called, Barney was unquestionably quivering in his.

And him with the sword.

Lorelei threw back her head and laughed, then subsided into giggles as she dropped back down to her prior lounging position. It really was funny that she'd managed to intimidate them, but really, it did make some sense. Men were notorious for running for cover in the face of illness. An apparent mental illness just made them run faster. It would seem that human nature remained the same. A man was a man, whatever his age. Or Age.

Lorelei laughed again at her own pun, then drank her water. A little brackish, but then, she wasn't expecting Evian. Whatever its shortcomings, it was cool and wet and soothing to her throat. Her screaming bout had left it raw and aching. The downside to healthy lungs and operatic training; she could scream louder than the average person, but not without consequences. The bread wasn't bad, either .

It felt good to laugh again, and even better to act out the motions of going on with living. After several hours of her own solitary company, she was slowly getting back to some semblance of normality. She was also feeling less on edge as the initial shock faded. Her crying jag had served to anesthetize the worst of her emotional reaction. Still, the whole thing was pretty unnerving. What had happened? And how? A more disturbing question that raised itself was...would it happen again?

That one made her s.h.i.+ver. And sober up.

"Think, Lorelei," she instructed herself firmly. "Things don't just happen." She began to think through the last events she remembered clearly. The rehearsal. Dane teasing her. Getting ready to go onstage for the last concert. And she'd put on the armband. She remembered that.

But where was it now? She wasn't wearing it. If she had been when Erik jumped in with his sword and his small change, he should have noticed it. But he hadn't. So where was it?

The armband was left behind, Dane had said.

She drew her knees up, wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on the convenient point. She was here. The armband wasn't. But it was, in a way. Erik had the identical pair, only they were new. Was one of his the same one Dane had given her? Or was the design a popular one, and the whole thing coincidental?

So much for thinking. With a tired sigh, Lorelei slid back down to curl on the luxurious fur blanket. She had a whole lot of questions to consider, and very few answers. She was also deeply tired, feeling the drain of the demanding tour on her physical and emotional resources as well as the horrible shock of transition she'd experienced when she'd fallen into the past.

"Let that be a lesson to you," she muttered to herself. "Don't accept jewelry from a man. Not even on loan. Make a note of it for future reference."

Not that she was likely to forget.

On deck, it sounded like the men were done working for the day. Voices raised in banter mingled with the continual roar of the surf and the wind. Funny how noisy a sailboat was. Lorelei listened to the rhythm of the wind and wave, the water slapping against the longboat's prow and unconsciously began to tap a counter rhythm with her fingertips. Lying there, alone, listening, she thought she could almost feel the rhythm of a different time. The male voices made a counterpoint to the sounds of nature. They fit. This was their place. Their time.

And she was the alien. Even her heart beat out of syncopation.

It was a long time before she fell asleep. Once she did, she slept uneasily, dreaming a series of repeating images. Dane, holding the armband, with tears in his eyes. A black void. A gold and silver circle that was laid out like a flowing Moebius strip, twining and turning across a silent night sky. Lorelei ran after it, and when she caught it, it turned on her and became a clawing, hissing beast.

Harold clouted Bjarni affectionately and pa.s.sed him the mead. "Drink, friend," he urged. "You look as pale as a Saxon."

Bjarni frowned at the insult, but drank anyway. "If I am pale, that slave woman is the cause. She laughed. Did you hear? I tell you, it gave me the chills. The sound of her mad laughter is as bad as her shrieking."

Erik watched the two distantly and wished they would speak of something else. He found the reminder of the dark woman he'd brought on board most unwelcome. What had come over him, that he had suddenly believed he must have her at any cost? He must have been possessed by evil spirits. She was surely Loki's daughter come to trouble him.

A wise man would sell her, and quickly. To another l.u.s.ting fool who would see only her beauty.

Yet...she had looked so small, so helpless, clinging to him with tears in her eyes. She was his. She had turned to him for comfort.

Yes, she was his. His property. An investment, nothing more. And a poor one, at that, Erik decided. Her beauty had no doubt turned other foolish heads and caused former owners to spoil her, encouraging her to believe her value to be greater than it was. She was good for a man's pleasure and no more. She had no skills and no strength to labor at any hard task. He scowled, thinking of it. Of her. Of his own foolishness.

He should sell her and be rid of her. Then he would be rid of the evidence of his foolish actions and free also of the twisted desire he felt for one so blighted.

Erik considered that while he checked the sun's position and angle with his sunstone, then searched out Polaris. The star was dimly visible in the extended northern daylight. From these sightings and from countless other cues he read nearly automatically after years of familiarity with the sea, he found the longboat's position and adjusted their course.

He could easily stop and sell the woman before they neared home. If he sold her, he wanted never to lay eyes on her again. It was better to do it far from home.

Better, because a fire of rage burned in him at the thought of another having her.

Bjarni's voice broke through his thoughts then. "I tell you, she can starve before I take food to her again," the man grumbled.

Harold laughed. "She is only a woman, Bjarni. What matter if she has the mind of a child? She has the body of a woman! My brother has the best of it with his new slave. But if you are afraid of her, I will see to her on the morrow." The s.e.xual meaning in his voice and his teasing wink were not unnoticed by Erik.

"You will 'see' to her food and drink only," he snapped, holding Harold's eyes directly as he spoke.

"Yes, certainly, brother," Harold returned innocently. "What else would I do?"

Erik hesitated, then decided it was not worth pursuing. Instead he dismissed him with a nod and settled down for the night.

Without conscious thought, his eyes turned towards the place his slave slept. Realizing what he was doing, he turned away with a dark scowl.

He would not think of her.

He would not care if she still cried and wanted to go home.

He would not wonder if she had eaten or not.

Would he not? Erik sighed inwardly and rolled onto his back to look up at the sky. He thought of nothing else. She was a curse.

When Harold took out his pan flute and began to play softly, he concentrated on that until he fell asleep.

"Good morning."

The cheerful masculine voice broke through the last hazy remnant of an uneasy dream and Lorelei blinked awake. Her gaze wandered around the odd cabin until they came to rest on the man who looked like Dane but wasn't. He was grinning broadly at her, mischief alive in his eyes.

Lorelei smiled back unconsciously. He was so like Dane. And he was up to no good. "Good morning. Aren't you afraid of the dangerous madwoman?"

Harold winked. "What should I fear? That you will steal my heart? I thought you were mad, not a thief. Perhaps I am safe enough. What do you think?"

Lorelei tipped her head to one side and considered him mock-seriously. "Hm. Well, I'm a bit tired just now and your heart looks like it wouldn't be easy to get to. I guess you're safe. Especially if you brought coffee. Do you guys have coffee?"

The grinning blond walked over to sit beside her on the fur and offered her more water and bread. "What is coffee?"

Lorelei sighed in resignation. "Out of my reach, at the moment. It's made from a kind of ground beans. It's sort of bitter at first, but it's a stimulant. It makes you wake up. It even makes waking up kind of enjoyable."

When was coffee discovered? Not until sometime after the fourteenth or fifteenth century at least, if she remembered right. Although she wasn't a historian. Which meant she wouldn't be getting any for at least six hundred years. A Starbucks Caramel Macchiato was even further out of reach in the distant future. Since residents of Seattle considered their daily latte nearly a const.i.tutional right, it was painful to realize she couldn't even get a cup of instant Folger's "Where does this bean grow?" Harold asked, curious.

"South America, mostly, I think. Tropical places. Mountainous areas near the equator-ah, where it doesn't snow," Lorelei explained quickly. "But I'm guessing, Harold. I get it from, oh, a local merchant, I guess you'd say. I don't go buy it from the source myself and I never really gave it much thought before."

She'd never given quite a few things much thought before, Lorelei admitted silently. How was she supposed to prove anything she said? She didn't know how to do anything that would impress these guys, like build an electric generator.