Chapter Sixteen

She gave new meaning to the term “senior citizen” …

Madrene was beginning to loathe garlic.

She was lying on a blanket on the floor, having emptied her stomach once again into a smelly bucket in the corner. That was when she heard a tap-tap-tapping noise on the upper part of the wall.

It must be a mouse. She rolled over and tried to think of more pleasant times, to get her mind off her nausea. Of course, Ian came immediately to mind. She forced herself to go back farther into her memory, to those times when she and her family had all been alive and safe in their homeland.

The tapping started again. This time, the sound seemed to have a pattern to it. Tap, tap … tap, tap, tap, tap … tap, tap … tap, tap, tap, tap. She stood and walk over to the wall, peering up. That was when she heard the most joyful thing.

“Maddie? Are you there? Maddie?” a voice said in a loud whisper.

It had to be Ian.

“I’m here,” she yelled. Then caught herself. “I’m here,” she repeated in a low voice.

“Stay put, babe.”

She wasn’t able to do anything else.

“We’re coming after you.” Then there was silence.

Madrene had much to worry about then … and not just her own well-being. Musab Khazim, the man who’d arrived last night, was more vicious than the rest. When she’d not given him the answers he wanted, he showed her pictures on the tea-vee of people having their heads chopped off by other “shepherds” in their Arab lands. Madrene had no taste for head-lopping, and had never done it herself, not having the strength to heave a broadsword so strongly, but she had witnessed it more than once. She was not as shocked as these brutes expected her to be.

So the new man had stripped her naked and interrogated her more. Apparently, he did not share his comrades’ qualms about harming a breeding woman, if his slaps were any indication. And what was it about men and their need to strip women of their clothing for purposes of humiliation? It was getting tiresome, to say the least. And chilly. But they’d let her put her jeans and tea- shert back on last night when she’d been banished to the basement again.

The knaves upstairs were heavily armed with weapons that resembled the guns and piss-toles she’d seen the seals carry. But Ian and his seals, who she presumed were with him, would be armed, as well. She had to trust in Ian.

Still, she worried.

Then she heard gunfire upstairs. Lots of gunfire. She dropped to her knees and prayed as she never had before. “Please, God … please, Thor, god of battle … protect this man I love. Please, please, please.”

She heard a hard object hit her locked door, even as the gunfire continued upstairs. She backed up against the far wall as the object hit once again and came barreling into the room.

The object was Ian.

He smiled grimly at her, swore softly at the bruises on her face, then lifted her into his arms. “Thank God!” was all he said, against her neck. She thought she felt a wetness there.

“Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

She shook her head.

“Did they … rape you?” he choked out.

Again she shook her head.

He carried her out in a rush, reaching the back yard through a separate basement exit. When they were free, he ran with her in his arms to a stand of trees at the end of the yard. He dropped down to his knees, then laid her gently down. Kissing her softly, he said, “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” He rose then, picked up the large weapon that hung from a sling over his shoulder and ran back to join the fight.

Madrene realized belatedly that she hadn’t uttered one word to Ian. Me, speechless? She smiled and thought there were some people who would find that a miracle.

The gunfire continued for a short while. It was early morning and she could see neighborhood people coming out of their houses, but the terrorist house was cordoned off with yellow ribbon. There were many armed men outside the house, as well as inside, and not all of them were seals. Some of them wore helmets.

The gunfire tapered off, then stopped. First, Ian’s seal comrades came out of the house, talking excitedly. They turned as one and waved at her, huge smiles on their faces. She waved back. Who knew I would be so happy to see a seal? she joked to herself.

She stood when she saw Ian reel out to the front yard, punching and rolling on the ground with Musab, the one who had been so nasty to her last night. Was Ian pummeling the brute on her behalf? Probably. In the end, Ian had to be pulled off of the evil varmint by several of the helmeted men. As Musab was escorted by two of the helmeted men to a nearby square vehicle, Ian bent over at the waist, as if trying to get his temper under control.

Before long, he walked over and began talking to a group of several big men, even taller than he was. They all glanced her way, then one of them broke away from the group and started to walk toward her.

All the fine hairs stood out on Madrene’s body, and she started to weep. No! It is impossible. I am dreaming. But Ian is there smiling at me. It can’t be a dream.

What a cruel jest for Loki, the jester god, to play on me after all I have survived!

But what if it is not a dream or a jest?

A hiccoughing sob escaped her lips. She, who never cried, was making a habit of leaking eyes lately. Heart pounding wildly, she began to walk slowly, then faster toward the big, weeping man. Weeping? He is weeping, too? He had long blond hair with strands of gray at the sides, woven into war braids. War braids? And he had big ears. Big ears? There was only one man she knew with ears like that.

“Father?” she asked just before he lifted her into a tight, tight hug.

“Thank the gods, you have finally come home, Madrene. We have missed you mightily.” Her father noticed the scars on her neck then and touched them tenderly. “The brute who did this to you will pay, that I promise you.”

Madrene felt like a little girl again. No need to worry about anything. Her father would take care of everything. Ah, that wasn’t quite true. Even as a youthling, Madrene had been taking over household duties. It was a nice fantasy, though.

Next came Ragnor, whom she swatted on the arm for having left her alone at Norstead, and Torolf, who told her an amazing story about his being a Navy SEAL. Then her uncles Jorund and Geirolf came to her for warm embraces. Her father told her that her other brothers and sisters were at a vineyard where they lived. Her father had remarried and had another child. Her Uncle Jorund had remarried, too, and had both his own and stepchildren. Uncle Geirolf was married for the first time and had his own family. Jorund and Geirolf lived in the faraway countries of Tax-us and Main. Even more amazing, Ian’s sister Alison was married to her brother Ragnor.

Madrene felt dizzy with confusion and happiness. “I do not understand. How can this be?” she asked her father. “How did you all land in this same magic land? And for shame! You did not tell those of us left behind that you were alive. Can you understand the agony we went through? Really, what were you thinking? Yea, it is good to see you all again, but what you need is a sound walloping with a broom, if you ask me. And furthermore—”

“Ever the shrew, eh, Madrene?” Her father threw his head back and laughed uproariously. Then he held her at arm’s length from himself. “Did you not know, child? Have you not figured it out? You have time-traveled.”

It was her turn to laugh now.

“ ’Tis true.” Her father’s face turned serious.

“Nooooooo,” she said, shaking her head with disbelief.

“Believe it!” Ragnor said. “It is a thousand years into the future. I had trouble believing it, too.”

“Nooooooo,” she continued to protest. But already many things were beginning to make sense to her—if time-travel could ever be construed as sensible. The flameless lights, the cars, the metal travel birds, the guns, birth control, food marts, books, tea-vee, everything. She had credited these marvels to magic … to a strange magical land, much like the legendary land of trolls and dragons. Now it appeared as if these marvels could be explained by time-travel, if one was to believe it was possible.

Sudden alarming thoughts occurred to her. How does Ian fit into this picture? Can he love a woman who is—holy Frigg!—a thousand years old? She glanced toward the front yard to see how he was handling this family reunion.

Ian was gone.

Wedding bell blues …

Ian drove back to the base in his car, taking Cage, Pretty Boy and Geek with him; their weapons were crammed beside them every which way they could fit. They followed the other SEAls, the command staff, his father and the CIA field ops. The four tangos were in a highly secure van in the midst of them all, including the one Ian almost killed with his fists for making a vile remark about Maddie’s body, which he must have seen naked.

“Do you think that’s all of them?” Cage asked.

“Seems so,” Ian answered. “At least, that’s what Sullivan told me.”

“He is such a creep,” Pretty Boy said.

The rest of them agreed, “Yeah!”

“He asked me if you were nailing Maddie.” Pretty Boy exhaled with disgust. “In the midst of gunfire, with her safety still in question, he asked a question like that.”

“What did you answer?” Ian looked over at Cage, who was covered with dirt and perspiration. They all were.

“I told him to go screw himself.”

“Good answer.”

“Man, this has been a helluva couple weeks,” Cage said. And it had been. Capturing Jamal in Iraq, marrying Maddie, setting up the trap in the park, Maddie being nabbed by the remaining tangos, the rescue, and the reunion with her family.

“Is it always like this?” Geek wanted to know.

“Yeah,” the three of them lied and smiled at each other.

“What are you going to do about Maddie?” Pretty Boy asked from the back seat.

“Hell if I know.” But I know what I want. “For now, her family is going back to my house to catch up on all the news. I didn’t get the whole story, but Ragnor said they’ve been separated from her for years, and she thought they were dead.”

“That’s what she kept telling us all along,” Geek pointed out.

But none of us would listen. “I’ll know more when our meetings are over at the base, and I can get back and talk to her.” Alone. Definitely alone.

“What do you think her family will say about your marriage?” Pretty Boy asked.

“That is the question.”

Actually, there is a more important question. What will Maddie think of our marriage now that she’s reunited with her family? Will I be extraneous?

She said she loves me.

Ian was hit with unexpected news just before he went into the debriefing. JAM pulled him aside and said, “Uh, I have something to tell you that you’re not going to like.”

Now what? “I got a piece of mail today that had originally been sent to my Virginia apartment, forwarded, then lost in dead mail for almost a year. I mean, I should have checked, but I didn’t think it was necessary. And now … oh, hell!” JAM was clearly avoiding telling him what was on his mind. What? Was he still a priest, or almost-priest, and hadn’t been released from his vows or whatever they called it?

“Spit it out.”

“You’re not married.”

Ian inhaled sharply with shock. That was the last thing he’d expected JAM to say. “What do you mean?”

“The Church doesn’t like its priests or almost-priests to continue with priestly duties. Apparently, the Vatican came out with a new edict that now disallows men like me from performing marriages.”

“Not even civil ones?”

JAM shook his head. “I would have to apply for a special license and everything.”

The back of Ian’s neck prickled, a sure sign something suspicious was going on. “The CIA must have known this when they were being so accommodating about the marriage and Maddie leaving Baghdad without a passport.”

“Maybe. Probably.”

“Sonofabitch!” Ian felt like hitting someone or something. Not JAM—it wasn’t his fault. But a nice wall would come in handy about now.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

JAM bit his bottom lip with reluctance. “All right. For now, my lips are sealed.”

They went into the meeting then, but all Ian could think about was Maddie. How was he going to keep Maddie without the marriage binding them together? He had no hold over her now, with the marriage being null and her family here to protect her … nothing except love.

The question was: Would love be enough?

Daddy’s little girl … not! …

Madrene was surrounded by mayhem.

Thirteen years might have gone by since they were all together, but some things never changed. Everyone talked at once. They teased each other mercilessly. The men thought women were to be protected and pampered.

“Pampered? Are you all demented? I have been running the farmstead and then Norstead for a long time. And I did it admirably, if I must say so myself, until … until Steinolf came.” She stopped then and pondered what she had said. “I failed then. I was unable to hold Norstead from the invaders. Mayhap you are all correct. Mayhap a man would have done a better job.”

“You are not to berate yourself, Madrene,” her father said. They were all sitting around Ian’s solar drinking beer and eating Dome-nose pizzas which Torolf had ordered delivered to the house. What a bunch of handsome men they were, she thought, even her father and uncles who were of an advanced age … more than fifty. And big! The large solar seemed small with all of them inside. “Are you listening, child?”

Child? I am thirty-one years old. Long past childhood.

“You did a magnificent job of defending Norstead,” her father continued. “As good as any man. Steinolf is a devious warrior, and betimes good soldiers lose to evil forces when they choose the honorable way.”

“I must needs raise an army and go back to fight him,” Madrene told them. “It is my quest, and I have told Ian and his comrades so on many an occasion. In fact, I have sold the jewels I took from the harems, and raised almost a million dollars. Not that I know what dollars are.”

Ragnor, who sat beside her on the sofa, grinned. Well, actually, he sat next to Sam, who sat next to her. Sam had taken to her family like a cat on a barrel of lutefisk. “You in a harem? I can hardly credit that. You must have driven the sultans mad with your nagging.”

She reached over Sam and punched Ragnor on the arm. Sam hissed at him to back her up. Grinning, she said, “Nay. I drove them mad with my cock-wilting talents.”

“Madrene!” her father chided her, but he was laughing like all the rest.

“You cannot say that and stop,” her Uncle Geirolf said. “Explain yourself.”

And she did, demonstrating the finger waggle and the “uhm-uhm” chant she’d perfected. They were all howling with laughter by the time she finished.

She turned to Ragnor. “Speaking of soft manparts, can I presume that you have regained your ‘enthusiasm’ for the bedsport?”

Ragnor’s face turned red. “I never had trouble getting it hard,” he tried to tell his hooting family members. He would never live this down, thanks to her jibe. “I just did not want to.” He looked at her then and said, “I will never forgive you for this.”

She made a face at him.

“About the army business,” her Uncle Jorund said, “even if you are able to raise the manpower, what makes you think you, let alone a small army, could travel back in time?”

Everyone grew silent.

“First, I never heard about this time-travel notion till today. Two, I am not sure I believe in it. Three, if a person can travel forward in time, there must be a way to travel back.”

“Personally, I don’t even try to explain time-travel, I just accept it,” Torolf said.

“Now, me, I just believe it is a miracle,” her father said. “My mind cannot wrap around any explanation for time-travel, but I do believe in miracles. God, or the gods, destined me to be here in this time and place.”

They all nodded, except for Madrene, who was still skeptical.

“And what’s this about a marriage?” Torolf, waggling his eyebrows at her, was back to teasing. “I cannot picture my sister, the shrew, hooking up with the lean mean Mac machine. A loathsome lout if I ever met one.”

“Yeah, you always said you wouldn’t marry again,” Ragnor reminded her.

“I hardly had any say in the matter,” she told them.

“And now? Would you have the marriage annulled?” her father inquired, his eyes studying her sharply. She must have blushed, because her father said, “I see.”

“Maaaa-dreeene! I am shocked,” said Ragnor, who was anything but shocked. “It would seem you regained some enthusiasm, too.”

“I did not know she ever had any. Not with that prick Karl.” It was Torolf chiming in now.

She was not sure what a prick was, but she could pretty well guess, and, yea, it was a good description. “What? You thought only those with dangly parts could have the sap rise? Well, let me tell you, women get lustsome on occasion, too. I have been watching Sex and the City , and women definitely can match men when it comes to lust. And, by the by, why is it that I had to come to another country … or time … to learn about oral sex?”

“That will be enough,” her father said. Everyone else was gaping at her. Ragnor put his face in his hand, and his body was shaking with laughter. Sometimes Madrene surprised even herself with her bluntness.

Her father coughed to compose himself. “The question then, daughter, is whether you wish for a divorce or to stay married to the loathsome lout.”

“I want to remain married,” she said without hesitation. The more important question is whether Ian will want me once he learns of the time-travel nonsense. Or whether he will want to be linked to my barmy family.

Her father tilted his head in question. “And why is that?”

“Because I love the loathsome lout.”

“Spoken like a true Norsewoman,” her father proclaimed.

She made him an offer he couldn’t refuse …

Ian’s nerves were shot by the time his meetings ended three hours later. He was worried about Maddie.

“I’m worried about you,” his commander told him as they walked across the O-course.

It’s not me you should be worried about. Ian’s eyebrows arched.

“You haven’t been to counseling since your Iraq mission ended. The other guys have, but not you.”

All SEALs were required to meet with the base psychologist after every field op, the theory being that killing people can affect the mind. Like anyone who’s ever killed another human being doesn’t know that! The Navy did not want its men going bonkers from lack of proper mental care.

“I’ll make an appointment for next week,” he promised.

“We need to talk about this so-called marriage of yours, too.”

There’s nothing “so-called” about it in my mind. “I will not discuss my personal life with you or anyone else.”

“Your personal life is the Navy’s business, whether you like it or not.”

Ian bit his tongue to stop himself from saying more. He didn’t give a rat’s ass what the commander, or the Navy, or the whole freakin’ world thought about his marriage. It was real, or it would be as soon as he could make it legal.

He said good-bye to the commander, then turned away. As he started driving his car across the Silver Strand, his cell phone rang. Recognizing his home phone number on the caller i.d., he groaned. Please, God, not someone asking me if I know what my wife is doing.

“Ian?”

“Maddie?”

He was surprised, never having known Maddie to use a telephone before.

“I’m calling you on the tell-off-own,” she told him.

“I know.” He smiled. “I love you.” Why he felt the need to say that, he didn’t know. Well, yes, he did. JAM’s news had put the fear of God in him.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

“Where are you?”

“In the closet?”

The closet? “Why?”

“Torolf showed me how to dial the tell-off-own, but I wanted privacy.”

“Are you all right?”

“Nay, I am not all right.”

He sat up straighter as he drove. “What’s happened? Maybe you should go to the hospital for a checkup, just in case. I thought you’d be okay with your family. I thought you would want this extra time with them.”

“I am fine, physically, but I must tell you, Ian, an hour with my family and I begin to feel suffocated Three hours and I am ready to go back to the harems.”

“Same thing when I’m around my father. Not the harems, but the suffocation.”

“Can you meet me someplace, outside the house?”

“Like where? I don’t want you going out somewhere by yourself where you might get lost.”

“The beach behind your house,” she suggested.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

He heard a rustling sound, then a loud bang in his ear as she obviously dropped the phone. “What are you doing?”

“Taking off my underwear.”

“Make that five minutes.”

Goin’ for a dirty swim …

Madrene was walking along the beach some distance down the shore from Ian’s house. The cold foam of the surf came and went over her bare feet. A soft breeze whipped her gauzy, ankle-length skirt about her. The late-afternoon sun still felt warm on her shoulders … or what part of her shoulders was exposed by her tanktop.

Her family, especially her father, was outraged over the welts that crisscrossed her back. She hadn’t realized when she put on the tanktop that part of them would be visible. Torolf was the one who said, “The bastard will pay.”

But Madrene could not care about all that now. She was at peace for the first time in forever. It was one of those moments out of time that a person comes back to over and over in her mind, a time when all the world seems to be in step. I’m happy. Pure and simple. I am happy and in love and glad to be alive.

She started to walk out a little deeper, up to her knees. Like a child she reveled in the splash of the water against her body. It was then, as she twirled about, that she saw Ian coming down the beach. He was taking off his shert as he walked and smiling wickedly at her. Once the shert was dropped to the sand, he toed off his shoes, then pulled off his socks. He was at the water’s edge directly in front of her when he began to undo his braies .

She backed up a bit.

He walked in as he continued to work on his braies . The water covered him up to his waist when he scooted down, tugged his braies off and tossed them back to the shore. He was left in only white small clothes. She could see how much he already wanted her.

“No underwear, eh?” he said when he reached her.

She just smiled.

A large wave broke, wetting them totally. So they swam out past the breaking wave to still water. At this time of day, it was only waist high. He pulled her into an embrace with her legs wrapped around his waist. They bobbed about with the ripple of the current, just smiling at each other.

“Greetings, husband,” she said.

An odd look crossed his face, but then he replied, “Hello, wife.” Giving her a quick kiss on the lips, he murmured against her mouth, “So, do you have something to reward me for coming home so quickly?”

She laughed and undulated her hips against him, belly hitting belly. “I was hoping it was the other way around. That you had something for me.”

“Do I ever!” Without any foresport, he lifted her skirt and settled her on his upraised, very hard staff. “Oh, baby!” he said, closing his eyes for a second. “You make me breathless.”

Madrene was not a playful person, and certainly had never been playful in the bed furs, but she was now. “Well, mayhap I should jump off this pole, then. I would not want to kill you for lack of breath.”

He nipped her chin with his teeth. “Don’t you dare move.” Taking her buttocks firmly in hand, he eased his fingers under and forward so he was touching her in her nether folds, which held him in their clasp.

“Oh.”

“Oh? That is all?” He grinned at her.

“Now I am breathless. Mayhap you will kill me with pleasure.”

“Have you ever heard of the little death?” he whispered against her ear.

“Nooooo.”

“Well, then, I guess I’d better show you.”

And he did.

Three times.

Then he died himself, so to speak.

Ian said the oddest thing to her a short time later, after he’d donned his garments. They were walking across the sand back toward the house when he stopped and looked her directly in the eyes. “Please don’t ever leave me … no matter what.”

It was odd because men left her, not the other way around.

The beginning of the end …

Maddie was leaving him.

Oh, she said she was going to Blue Dragon for a short visit with her family, but Ian just knew she would never come back. Every instinct in his body screamed, Make her stay! But he didn’t, of course. Besides, the entire SEAL Team Thirteen, which also included Torolf, was leaving on Monday for San Clemente Island, where they would engage in extreme terrorist training.

“Why don’t you come with us for a few days?” she asked. They were standing in a loose embrace at his open front door. Torolf was at the wheel of an Expedition van out front which would take Maddie, her father and the two uncles back to the vineyard today, where a massive family reunion was being planned for the weekend. The motor was running, and soon the horn would be blowing. Sam was rubbing her body against Maddie’s jeans-clad leg, meowing in one long whine; the cat obviously sensed she was leaving.

“You know I can’t. Today’s Friday. We’re leaving Monday for training. Just not enough time.” That was a lie, actually. If he’d really wanted to, he could have gone by plane and spent a day there, even two. But this was her time with her family, and he didn’t want to intrude. More important, he was scared spitless that someone would find out they weren’t really married before he was ready to tell Maddie. He was going to see how they could straighten out this mess while she was gone.

She nodded. “I’m afraid. Don’t look at me like that. I know I’ve said I have no fear, but I do where you’re concerned. What if you find someone else while I’m gone? What if your former betrothed wants you back?”

Something must have shown on his face.

“She already has expressed such a wish?” Maddie bristled. “When did you see her last?”

“The day you were taken, actually.”

Maddie tried to pull out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her go. “While I was here waiting with Geek … while those brutes kidnapped me, you were off cavorting with your betrothed? And she told you she wants you back?”

He nodded. “I told her I’m not interested. I told her I am married.”

“Oh,” she said and ceased her struggles. “I miss you already.”

He kissed her softly. Stay. Please stay. Feel how much I want you to stay. I’m selfish. I know I am. But stay.

She didn’t read his mind.

Ian hated the fact that he was keeping a secret from Maddie … that they were not really married.

The truth shall set you free , he told himself.

Then immediately answered, Bullshit!

Surely Maddie would understand when he finally told her … say, a year or five from now. “Maddie, what would you think about us going to Las Vegas when you get back and getting married again?”

She cocked her head to the side, studying him. “Why?”

He wet his lips nervously. “It seems like maybe we should start this marriage over in the right way, instead of our being forced into it.”

“What a romantic idea!”

I am such an ass.

“Perhaps my family could come, too. And your family. And the seals.”

“No, no, no! It would be private, just you and me.”

“Hmmm. I like that.” She put a hand to his cheek. “I love you.”

“I know,” he said, grinning at her.

She swatted him playfully.

“I love you, too, babe. Come back soon.”

With a last kiss for him and a quick ruffle of Sam’s fur, she was gone.

And thus began the first day of the rest of Ian’s empty life.