will tell you of the pleasure you will know.’ He held out an ivory cylinder with a rounded, ridged top.
The moment she saw it closer, Caragh frowned. As the merchant instructed, she held it in her palm, still unclear on what it was.
‘Use the oil, lady.’ He began to explain more, but his Irish was broken, and he switched back into the Norse language, making it impossible to understand.
When she shook her head, the merchant took her hand and curled it over the ivory. He showed her how to move it up and down, and when she glanced at Styr, his shoulders were shaking, his mouth tight.
‘What’s wrong?’
He lowered his head, looking away. The man was laughing at her. And she had no idea why. Handing back the ivory cylinder, she saw lengths of silk in many different colours. ‘And what are those for?’
‘Tying up your lover,’ he explained.
A snort erupted from Styr, and finally he burst out in a broad laugh. Caragh’s face turned scarlet, as she suddenly understood what the man had been selling. Not only chains to tie up a lover, but the ivory cylinder was a perfect replica of a man’s—
Oh dear God.
She dropped it as if it were a hot coal, hurrying away from the merchant. Styr followed, but he never stopped laughing at her. ‘Are you still wondering what he was selling?’
‘I cannot believe anyone would sell such things!’ she said, horrified that she’d actually touched the ivory shaft. ‘Why would anyone want them?’
He leaned against a wooden cart, and she glared at him while he continued to laugh. ‘Should I buy you one?’ he smirked, starting to walk back.
‘No!’ She’d never been so humiliated in all her life. ‘And you can stop laughing at me.’
He did, but a dangerous smile spread over his face. ‘You’re too innocent, Caragh.’ But his hand came around her shoulders, as he led her away from the market.
It was the gesture of a friend, of a man who was no longer threatened by her. This was the first time she’d ever seen him smile or laugh, for he’d always been so angry, so intent upon finding Elena. But for the briefest moment, she saw the anger and frustration slip away. She found herself drawn even more to this man, although his good mood was at her expense.
‘I would prefer that we forget about this,’ she said quietly.
His expression turned mischievous, his eyes almost sensual. ‘Some women have no man to share their bed. Such things have their uses.’
‘Not for me. And you didn’t have to laugh.’
‘The look on your face was worth a thousand silver coins, when you realised what it was.’ His arm remained around her shoulders, and for a moment, her traitorous mind imagined that they were more than friends. She’d never done anything except kiss a man, but after viewing the merchant’s wares, she wondered what else happened between a husband and a wife. She knew how children were made…but was there more?
Styr’s hand moved away from her shoulders, once they were further away. He guided her out of the market, admitting, ‘I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.’
‘Not even with Elena?’
His expression shifted, his smile fading. ‘No.’
She didn’t know what to say, for fear of transforming his mood into sadness or anger. Instead, she let her fingers brush against his, and he took her palm, threading their fingers together.
They walked past the marketplace, and for the first time, he didn’t pull away. The warmth of his hand upon hers was comforting, and for a moment, she imagined that they were friends. When he wasn’t so angry, it was easy to be around Styr.
And far too easy to let down the guard around her heart.
Iona’s words came back to haunt her: You will find your happiness, when you learn to walk away from what was never meant to be.
Was this what the old woman had meant? That she needed to leave Styr and protect her heart? The more she thought of it, the more she saw the truth in Iona’s words. If she allowed herself to be friends with Styr, the dangerous attraction might transform into other feelings. Feelings of jealousy, feelings that would remind her of how Kelan hadn’t wanted her.
She let go of his hand, focusing her concentration on the rising pain upon her feet and the blisters through her worn shoes.
As they continued on, Styr spoke with several more merchants, but no one seemed to have seen his wife. Caragh offered to ask among the women, but he refused to leave her side for a moment.
‘It’s not safe for you to be alone, without a guard.’
She acceded to him, for he knew the customs of the Norse better than herself. Then, too, more than a few of the men had eyed her, only to be deterred by Styr’s presence.
‘What if Elena isn’t within the city?’ she asked, after they had finished searching the marketplace.
He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. It seems likely, but without finding my ship—’
When he didn’t finish the sentence, she took a breath. ‘There is another place we should search.’
He knew, without asking, what she meant. They continued a little further and Styr asked a bystander where they could find the slave markets. The man pointed them in the right direction, and she saw the tension in his face. If Elena had been sold as a slave, she could be anywhere…even brought to distant lands. He might never find her.
A hollow feeling took root within Caragh, suffusing her with guilt. For if Styr never saw his wife again, his marriage was essentially over.
He could be yours, the voice of sin whispered.
She lifted her gaze to his sun-darkened hair and his brown eyes. There was no man as powerful and strong as this one. And when he’d touched her, it was as if her body craved more than he could give.
But it was wrong to even think of it. She closed her eyes, forcing back the dishonourable thoughts. A man like Styr deserved to be with the woman he loved. Not her.
The longer they walked, the more her feet began to ache. Caragh hid her discomfort, for it was not only Elena they needed to find; it was also Brendan.
She’d not seen any sign of her brother at all, and more and more, she was wondering if he’d gone elsewhere.
They walked through a maze of streets, past livestock and throngs of people. Caragh didn’t know how they would ever find anyone in a place as large as this. She was accustomed to a small ringfort with only a few dozen inhabitants. Here, there were hundreds. Perhaps even a thousand.
She gritted her teeth against the swollen blisters on her soles, not wanting to reveal any weakness. When they reached the interior of the city, she saw the auction block and the chained rows of men and women. Most were Irish, but there were a few Norse men and women among them.
Although it was cold outside, the men were mostly naked, wearing only a cloth around their waist to cover themselves. She supposed it was to reveal their physical strength. The women wore a shapeless brown léine, their hair hanging loose. When she saw a few boys awaiting their turn to be sold, her heart twisted at the sight. What had happened to their families? And why would anyone want to sell a child?
Styr went to ask one of the Norse men about Elena, but Caragh couldn’t tear her gaze from the young boy. He reminded her of Brendan, years ago, when both of them had played together as children. Though her brother had made terrible mistakes in the past few days, he was still her kin. And his life depended on what had happened to Elena.
When Styr returned, his face was grim. ‘They were here, a few days ago. My men were, at least. But not Elena. They didn’t see a woman.’
‘Perhaps they were lying.’