Page 47 of Haakon's Fate
“Ah. If you want to know, you will have to close your eyes. Sometimes a demonstration is worth a dozen explanations. Close your eyes,” the man insisted, when she hesitated. Then he nodded at Haakon to do the same. “You too. Go on.”
“Sorry, but I’m keeping my eyes open, my friend.”
The stare accompanying the answer indicated that he was not going to indulge the man in his childish games. If truth be told, he had not liked hearing him tell Gytha he had a special weapon to show her. It sounded too ambiguous for his liking, something Arne would say before taking advantage of the woman’s closed eyes to get the “weapon” out of his braies and showing her what he intended to do with it.
After a glance in his direction, Gytha complied. She seemed to say she trusted him to look after while she was unable to see what was going on. And indeed she could trust him, because he would make sure nothing untoward happened. If the man so much as hinted that he might expose himself, he would find himself with no weapon to play with.
But instead of reaching for his braies, the musician waved to one of the young girls who was waiting by the fire. At his signal, she unveiled a wicker cage which contained the two biggest starlings Haakon had ever seen. While the girl brought the cage closer to Gytha, a boy took out a small flute from a bag and started to play a sweet melody. Evidently this was a well-rehearsed ritual they had used on many a guest, perhaps it was even part of their act.
Haakon could have kicked himself. He’d been bracing himself for a lewd display, and he was being treated to a beautiful song.
“Keep your eyes closed,” the man instructed when Gytha smiled her delight at the music filling the air.
Then, as if instructed to do so, the two birds joined in the song, their low whistles and trills complimenting the player’s flute to perfection. It was indeed unlike anything Haakon had ever heard, both sweet and moving.
The surprise having been achieved, Gytha was finally allowed to open her eyes. She clapped her hands when two other playersjoined in, one with a drum, the other with her voice. The song became even more intricate and bewitching. Truly unique, as promised.
“How beautiful! Oh, Haakon,” she called out, her green eyes sparkling with joy, “have you ever seen anything more enchanting?”
Well, yes, he had. Her. He shook his head in despair. Endearing a moment ago, she was now enchanting. Lovely and irresistible were indeed not far. She chose to take the shake of his head as an answer and beamed at him, satisfied. Then she started to tap her leg in rhythm to the song.
Haakon sighed and sat down on a piece of rock. He had to get a grip on himself, and fast. At this rate they would not make it to Matilda’s village before he surrendered to the desire torturing him.
“Come, let’s dance!”
A young man and woman, who might have been brother and sister, given their resemblance to one another, each seized Gytha by one arm to draw her to the middle of the clearing. Laughing, she followed. Haakon noticed she didn’t demur, pretend she couldn’t dance, or plead the fatigue of the day. She simply joined in the chain of people weaving their way around the various obstacles in front of them as if she’d been born a member of the troop.
Unsurprisingly, no one even dared to ask him to join in.
Soon the atmosphere changed. As the last of the day light finally died out, the drums took over and the song went from sweet and joyous to darkly sensual. Or was it Gytha’s movements that gave him this impression? Haakon watched, fascinated, as she let go of her dancing partners’ hands and started to undulate on the spot on her own, eyes closed, arms waving in the air and hips swaying in time to the slow rhythm.
Never had he seen anyone dance in this way. It was the most erotic spectacle he could have imagined and his body responded accordingly. It started to pulse in time to Gytha’s beguiling moves. Every thrust of her hip caused sensations to jolt up his spine, every flick of her wrists increased the beating of his heart, every turn of her head stole more of his rapidly disappearing breath. It was torture, delicious torture.
By the time the song ended, he could have sworn he’d just run a dozen miles and blood was pounding in every part of his body.
Gytha was out of breath but happy. She could not recall ever feeling this wild and free. The opportunities to dance were few and far between, and since her mother’s death she had lived in some sort of cocoon, barely allowing herself to live. Tonight she had freed herself from the guilt, allowed herself to feel beautiful and act accordingly.
All because of Haakon.
Having him watch her was making the moment even more special, charged with sensual energy. As she’d danced to the rhythm of the drums, despite her closed eyes, she had felt his blue gaze on her like a caress. It had lent her gestures an unusual, almost wanton quality. She had felt as if she were disrobing for him, as if this was a seduction leading to lovemaking. Each of her moves, each of her breaths had been for him.
She sat down and decided to push such ridiculous thoughts away from her mind. He didn’t think of her in those terms, did he? Or was she fooling herself, refusing to see the evidence? Those heated kisses they had shared… Those looks they had exchanged… Those promises he had made.
Impaled on my cock.
Perhaps hewasthinking of her in those terms, perhaps it was not just teasing, and she was consciously avoiding acceptingthe truth because it frightened her. Haakon seemed more man than she could handle. She felt woefully inexperienced next to him.
After a while, a young girl of barely a dozen summers sat down next to her. She was out of breath as well, and flushed red.
“Oh, I do love a good dance!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, so do I.”
Gytha smiled, taking a swig from the wine skin she had filled with fresh water earlier that afternoon. She was then offered a bowl of stew from someone, which she accepted gratefully, realizing she was famished.
“Your troop is really very talented,” she told the little girl once she had emptied half her bowl. The man had not been boasting earlier. They did have something no one else had. The starlings. “Where did you get those birds?” she asked, nodding toward the cage that had been covered once more.
“My grandmother tamed them.” The girl sounded proud to be related to such an important person. “She had noticed how good starlings were at mimicking other sounds and thought the troop could put that skill to good use. We experimented and soon saw it was worth the effort of training them. These two are the most gifted pair we’ve ever had. We call them Whistle and Star. Grandma says they are worth their weight in gold. Thanks to them we make three times what we would otherwise at the fairs.”
