"No," Remo said. "I guess not."
"What I'm saying is, I'll go with you."
"Me, too," Griffith said. "I've yearned so to see the wild Chinee."
156
"You'll be staying right here, and no argument. What do you say we go tomorrow, Remo? A partner will lighten the load on your journey."
"Tomorrow . . ." Remo said. It was so soon.
Jilda stood up and went to him. "We'll all go," she said.
Remo's heart quickened. "You, too?"
"We three have made the decision, and we three will stand by it together."
"And me too, Da," Griffith pleaded, sounding desperate. "I must go with you. I'll be needed. I can feel it."
Emrys gave him a black look, and the boy subsided.
"Come," Jilda said, laying a hand on Remo's shoulder. "There's no room for us here to spend the night. We'll sleep outdoors."
"I'd planned on giving up my bed for you, miss," Emrys said kindly. " 'T'isn't often we have female visitors."
"Not necessary," Jilda said. "I am accustomed to sleeping in the open. I like to see the stars overhead."
"Same here," Remo said quickly.
The night sky seemed to shine with a million candles. In their liquid light, her long hair spread over the moss like a cape of gold, Jilda was almost terrifyingly beautiful.
Remo lay beside her, tender and spent. Their lovemak-ing had been even better than he'd remembered. Once again, he had felt as if he had come to her for the first time. Once again, their bodies had joined like two halves of a perfect whole.
"I'm glad you're coming to Sinanju," Remo said softly, tracing a line with his finger along the smooth, moonlit skin of her leg.
"I won't leave you until I have to."
157
He found it difficult to speak. "You-you don't ever have to."
"Ah, yes I will. Look. My star." She pointed to the sky. "The golden one."
It had been a dumb attempt, Remo decided. Too soon and too awkward. He'd never been good at sweet-talking women. He let it pass. "To the north?" he asked, pretending to be interested.
"Yes. Its name is Gullikona-'Golden Lady.' My parents named me for her. 'Jilda' is the name I chose for myself when I was grown."
He touched her hair. Golden Lady. Embarrassed, he pulled his hand away. He didn't want to paw her like some lovesick adolescent. What he felt was crazy. He'd have to control it.
"According to one of our legends, Gullikona was once, in the old days, a beautiful princess with hair like spun gold. Although she was betrothed to a mighty warlord, she fell in love with a young warrior and took him to her bed. When the warlord found out about her infidelity, he assigned her lover to serve on his own ship for a long voyage to distant lands. Once at sea, the warlord tortured his rival and brutally murdered him, cutting off the young man's hand. Then he sent a special messenger on a small boat to return home to present the severed hand to the princess.
"When she received the horrible present, the princess was so overcome with grief that she went to the seashore that night and built a great bonfire. Then, clasping her lover's dismembered hand between her own, she walked into the flames so that she might be with him for all time in Valhalla.
"The legend says that her burning hair made such a beautiful fire that even the gods took notice. Freya herself, goddess of love and pleasure, found pity in her heart for the doomed lovers. She plucked the princess from,the
158
earth, fire and all, and placed her in the sky, where the dead warrior's spirit would be sure to find her. And there they remain, the flames of their love burning to the end of time."
"Gullikona," Remo whispered. "Sam-I mean Jilda-"
She laughed. "You liked Sam, didn't you? She was more refined than 1 am. Unfortunately, her high-heeled shoes were unbearable."
"What were you doing in London?"
"Why, looking for you, of course. 1 began my search in Morocco. I just missed you in Lisbon. I was afraid that you might not stop in England at all, and that I wouldn't get to meet you before my turn in the Master's Trial. But that would have been too late."
"You would have fought me?"
"I'd have had no choice. The elders of Lakluun would have been watching. That was why I had to see you before you arrived on my island."
"To talk me out of coming?"
"To see, first, if you were worthy. If you had been an arrogant boor who thought with his fists, I would have taken pleasure in fighting you. But in any case, I had to meet you alone before the battle. As I have said, I will not kill or be killed by a stranger."
"But why wouldn't you tell me who you were?"
She touched his face. "Would you not have suspected trickery if you knew I was to oppose you in combat?"
Remo thought. "Even then, I wouldn't have fought you."
"Because I'm a woman?"
Remo shook his head. "Because ..." He felt himself trembling.
Stop, he told himself. Don't let yourself fall so hard you'll never pick up the pieces again. But he didn't stop, and he brushed her lips with his own, and felt his loins
159
rush with desire, and then he didn't care if he had to spend the rest of his life regretting this moment, because it was worth whatever price he would have to pay.
His hands filled up with her. He couldn't get close enough. He belonged with her, inside her. Gently he entered her, and her hot flesh welcomed him, smooth, caressing, hungering.
/ do love you, he thought. And I don't care if you can't love me back. This is . . . almost enough. Almost everything I need. And almost was almost the best thing that had ever happened to him.
"Remo . . ." Jilda breathed, arching him deep into her. "Remo, I love you, too."
With a cry, he let himself flow into her. She held him, strong and sure, their love together burning hot enough to set fire to the stars.
And suddenly, Remo knew what he would be willing to give up to keep her with him: everything.
Chapter Seventeen
He slept until the sun was full in the sky and the night mist nearly gone. Jilda kissed him awake.
"Then it wasn't a dream," he said, tangling his fingers in her hair. "What's this?" He lifted the heavy leather cape fastened around her neck. Beneath it was the green dress he'd taken off her the night before. "You're dressed. Is it against your religion to fool around in daylight?"
"Emrys is anxious to get started. We've charted an Arctic course."
He sat up. "How long have I been sleeping?"
"You needed the rest. Everything's been prepared." She handed him a thick sheepskin wrapper. "This is for you. We're heading toward the Irish Sea, then north, over Scandinavia and Russia by water. It will be cold."
Emrys met them half a mile away, a knapsack slung over his shoulders.
"Where's Griffith?" Remo asked. "I wanted to say good-bye to him."
"At home, where he'll stay," Emrys said gruffly. "All weeping and wailing he was. Couldn't stand the sight
160
161
of him another minute." He walked briskly, his face creased. "He's a good kid," Remo said.
Emrys grunted.
They reached the shore within the hour. Jilda commandeered the project of building a watertight boat out of wood and twine, covered with animal skins from Emrys's sack.
"We can't go halfway around the world in that," Remo complained.
Jilda arched an eyebrow. "When we need another, we will build another," she said.
Never question the logic of a Viking, Remo thought.
It was noon by the time they all settled into the boat. Remo pushed it out of the shallows and jumped in. The small square sail Jilda had brought with her caught the wind and carried them quickly toward the gray, tossing waters of the deep.
Someone shouted, far away, on the shore.
"Who is that?" Jilda said, straining to make out the small figure who ran to the edge- of the water, waving his arms frantically overhead.