The vikings witch, p.4
The Viking's Witch, page 4
But how would she come to be married to Rothgar? They had known each other for only a few hours, and she wasn’t even sure where he came from. Was his homeland the place she’d seen in her vision? The mountains in the distance had told her they were no longer on Stronsay.
She toyed with the silver brooch and bit her bottom lip. There was no denying that a strong bond existed between her and Rothgar. Every time she looked into his ice-blue eyes, she felt drawn to him, but that was a far cry from being married and bearing his child. His child? By the stars! Then they must have—
She shoved that thought away. Aside from Rothgar’s brief kiss in the cookroom, no man had ever touched her in a romantic way, let alone made love to her. She shivered and pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders. And no man was ever going to, either.
When she had come of age, her mother had warned her to keep away from men. All they wanted was to sate their lust, and they cared nothing about love or marriage. Then and there she had vowed never to fall prey to a man’s advances unless she truly loved him and knew for certain that he loved her as well. Taking a lover or completing a handfasting ceremony would be meaningless unless it was based on love.
Rothgar reached down and stroked her hair, and she repositioned her head against his thigh. A warm feeling of contentment settled over her. For the first time in a fortnight, her belly was full and she could sleep without fear. Rothgar had protected her from Ivor, and he’d given her a fancy brooch to wear. But why was he being so generous? What did he expect from her in return?
“Wake up, Odaria.”
Someone was shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes in time to see Rothgar bend down and scoop her into his arms.
“What’s happening?”
“Time for bed,” he replied.
The Norsemen in the room whistled and clapped their hands. A few shouted out words she did not understand. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. Why were they acting that way? What did they care if Rothgar took her to bed?
She was too tired to protest as Rothgar carried her out of the main room and up the short flight of stairs that led to the single bedchamber. He ducked as he carried her across the threshold and into the sparsely furnished room.
The bed was positioned beneath the window. Moonlight streamed into the room, casting a silvery path on the sheepskin bedcovering. Two lit candles flickered next to a pitcher and bowl on a chest of drawers. Rothgar set her down near the bed, then locked the door behind him.
As the lock clicked into place, she snapped awake. “What are you doin’ that for?”
Rothgar slipped the iron key into the pouch dangling from his waist. “I do not want us disturbed. Get in bed.”
She glanced at the small bed. It was barely wide enough to fit Rothgar’s shoulders and certainly wasn’t long enough for him. “Nay, ’tisna room for both of us. I’ll lie on the floor.”
Rothgar propped his sword against the wall, then unstrapped the dagger from his hip and placed it on the chest of drawers. He pulled his green tunic over his head and flung it onto the chair in the far corner. “It was not a request,” he replied as he removed his boots.
She backed away from him, shaking her head. “Nay, I—”
He yanked the cloak off her shoulders and tossed it to the floor. “Get in.”
All of a sudden, she understood why the other Norsemen had applauded when Rothgar said it was time for bed. He hadn’t brought her up here so they could sleep in private. He meant to have his way with her.
“Nay. I’ll not—”
Rothgar shoved her in the chest, and she fell back onto the bed. Before she could move, he climbed into bed and rolled on top of her. The straw mattress sank under their weight. She tried to push him off, but she could barely move. Something hard was poking her through her chemise. “Get off!”
“Shh, lie still. You shall enjoy it.”
“Never.” She struggled for a moment, then realized that she was powerless against him. Rothgar had her pinned to the bed. Fighting him would be useless.
He chuckled. “Wriggle about all you like beneath me. It serves to excite me further.”
xShe lay still and closed her eyes. If he wanted her to move, she’d turn into a stone. What had come over him? Why was he behaving like an animal? He had promised not to hurt her. “I trusted you,” she whispered.
Rothgar smoothed her hair. “I will not hurt you, Odaria. Relax and let me make love to you. I am a good lover, you will see. I shall make you feel—”
“I shan’t feel anything for you except hatred.” She glared into his eyes, and he drew back a little. “If you do this—”
Rothgar covered her mouth with his. She tensed and squirmed, then lay still. His coarse beard prickled her chin and cheeks as his lips moved against hers. She closed her eyes and let out a tiny whimper as his kiss became more insistent and needy. Rothgar moaned and settled more of his weight on her, crushing her chest.
Finally, he broke the kiss and caressed her cheek. “Was it so bad that you do not open your mouth and kiss me in return?”
“I canna breathe. You are killing me,” she managed to croak out.
Rothgar raised himself onto his elbows, taking some of his weight off her. “Sorry. I am most eager.”
She turned her head. “And I am not.”
“Come now, Odaria, there is no need to be afraid. I’ve pleasured many women. I’m well endowed—”
“Then go find a woman who would welcome your endowments. There are experienced women in the village who know how to satisfy a man. Take one of them tonight, and leave me be,” she said, surprised at how weak her voice sounded.
Rothgar arched an eyebrow. “An experienced woman? You have never—?”
“Nay.” She blinked back tears. “I’d never even been kissed before tonight. If you do this to me, you shan’t like it. You are wasting your time.”
“Then I shall teach you.” Rothgar trailed his thumb across her lips. “I want you. No other woman shall do tonight, nor any other night. You have stirred a deep lust in me that has been sleeping for years.”
Rothgar bent close to kiss her again, and she brought her hands up to his chest to push him away. Instead of resisting, the hard feel of his chest muscles stunned her into submission. Although she knew Rothgar was a strong man, she hadn’t expected him to feel so warm and inviting. She trailed her hands across the front of his chest and discovered a thick patch of hair. As she explored it with her fingertips, an odd tingling sensation spread through her lower body. What was happening to her? Suddenly, she felt weightless and dizzy, as she had in the cookroom. She no longer wanted to struggle against Rothgar. She wanted to lie here beneath him, kissing his lips and touching his chest.
The room seemed to fade away, and the next thing she knew, her lips moved against Rothgar’s. Was she doing it right? She had never kissed a man before, but it wasn’t at all unpleasant. If anything, it excited her and made her feel warm and mushy inside.
Her mind flashed back to her vision. In it, she was Rothgar’s wife, they were in love, and she was about to kiss him on the hillside. Was this how their courtship began?
Rothgar moaned. Suddenly, his lips parted, and he thrust his thick tongue into her mouth. He tasted like beer.
She recoiled and writhed beneath him, trying to shove him off. Instinctively, she entwined her fingers in his chest hair and yanked as hard as she could.
Rothgar roared and rolled off her. “Dammit, wench, what are you doing?”
Odaria leapt out of bed and ran to the door. Her heart pounded wildly as she tugged at the door handle. It was locked. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten that Rothgar had locked the door and taken the key. “Let me out. Open this door and set me free.”
She cowered in the corner near the door, not daring to take her eyes off Rothgar. He was sitting up in bed, scowling and rubbing his chest. What had she done? Now she was trapped in here with him, and he was angry. What would he do to her? If he wanted to hurt her, she wouldn’t be able to stop him.
“Pray let me go.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Find yourself another girl.”
“You are not leaving this room tonight. You are mine.”
She wrapped her arms around her chest, shielding herself from him. “Never. You are no better than Ivor. You rescued me from him so you would have the pleasure of deflowering me. Do what you will to me, I canna stop you, but I swear by the gods I shall lie there like stone. You will receive no pleasure from your lustful—”
“Quiet! Must you shout always?” Rothgar stood and strode to the chest of drawers. He retrieved the iron key from his pouch and threw it on the floor in front of her.
She snatched it up and held it to her chest.
“You wish to leave me? Fara! Go. Be gone from here, wench. Leave, for all I care.” Rothgar sat on the edge of the bed. “Go. Unlock the door and run downstairs. But be quick. There are a dozen Norsemen in the lower room. If you sneak past them with your maidenhead intact, consider yourself lucky, for there are a hundred more outside. If you run fast enough, they may not catch you.”
Rothgar paused for a second, then continued. “But make no mistake about it. Someone, one of them, perhaps a few, or twenty, will catch you. They are Nordmenn. A few tears will not sway them from fulfilling their desires.”
She gasped. How could he say such repulsive things?
Rothgar raised his head and looked at her. “Make your choice. How many virile Nordmenn do you wish to have tonight? One … or a hundred?”
She clutched the key in her trembling hand. How many Norsemen were on the isle? Even if she could escape from the gathering hall safely, what awaited her outside?
Rothgar rubbed his temples and sighed. His huge shoulders slumped. “I did this for your protection. I was not going to hurt you … or force you. I am not like them. It has been so long since I’ve …” He walked to the chest of drawers.
She studied Rothgar in the flickering candlelight. He was frowning. His voice had lost its rough edge. Instead of sounding angry, he sounded tired.
“To hell with it. Leave. Stay. Do as you wish. I care not.” He blew out the candles and climbed into bed.
She huddled next to the door, expecting Rothgar to say something else. He didn’t. Was he waiting for her to leave, or speak? She glanced down and saw a moonbeam reflecting off her brooch. The silver glimmered in the moonlight. Rothgar had been kind enough to give her the brooch, and he had protected her. After all he’d done for her, he deserved to be treated better.
“Rothgar?”
“Hvat?”
“I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I …” She bit her bottom lip, unsure how to express what she felt inside. “I don’t wanna be had that way.”
“Had in what way? I was not going to force you. I was trying to make you like it. I would not be violent. I have never harmed a woman in my life. I am not Ivor.”
She shuddered as she recalled the feel of Ivor’s rough hands grabbing her breasts. “How am I to know? ’Tis late, I’m tired, and I was sleeping fine until you brought me up here, tossed me on the bed, and tried to smother me.”
“If I bother you so much, leave.” Rothgar folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “I’ll not smother you again. You can fend for yourself come morn.”
She stood and walked to the bed. What would happen to her if Rothgar didn’t protect her from the other Norsemen? Could she sneak away to the cairn and hide until they left? What if they never left?
“Nay. I’ll not leave you. I didna mean to make you angry with me. Pray don’t set the other men on me. I’d die if they …” She was unwilling to say more, lest her words invoke trouble. “You have been good to me, Rothgar. I wish to make up for hurtin’ you as I did.”
“Gut. Come to bed and do two things for me.”
“Nay. You said you would not touch me.”
“I will not touch you … unless you ask for it.” He chuckled. “Fear not, sweet maiden. My lust has faded. I drank too much bjor and lost control of my desires while drukkinn. I wish to sleep now. Today was a long day.”
“Aye, ’twas very long and quite troublesome, indeed. What do you wish of me?”
Rothgar cleared his throat. “First, come to bed and lie next to me.”
“You won’t kiss or touch me?”
“Only if you kiss or touch me first.”
She folded her arms across her chest and eyed him suspiciously. “And what other thing must I do?”
Rothgar smirked and wriggled his eyebrows. “Come to bed and find out.”
Rothgar lay still, waiting to see if Odaria would get into bed next to him. If she refused, he would not force her. For all he cared, she could sleep on the floor or leave. If she insisted on acting so stubborn, then she could take her chances with the others and see how she fared. No other Nordmann would show her such kindness.
He pulled the bedcoverings across his stinging chest and closed his eyes. Odaria was right. In a way, he was no better than Ivor. Granted, he never would have forced himself on her, but he had ignored her when she’d begged him to leave her alone. He frowned. It was the bjorr. He’d drunk too much tonight and gotten carried away. Up until the moment he’d scooped Odaria into his arms and carried her upstairs. Being intimate with her was a mere hope.
Over the last three years, he had learned not to expect any reaction from his lower half, whether he was drunk or sober. His manhood was nothing but a useless lump of meat between his legs. But being close to Odaria had caused it to blaze back to life tonight.
“You swear you will do me no harm?” Odaria asked, interrupting his thoughts.
He sighed. After she had ripped out all of his chest hair, his burning hardness had shriveled down to nothing. His mighty sword now lay as limp as a blade of grass. He couldn’t enter her even if he wanted to. “I swear it.”
Odaria climbed into bed next to him and lay on her right side. The bed wasn’t large enough for a man a third his size, and she was forced to lie close to him. The bed frame creaked as he readjusted his weight.
“What are you doin’?”
“Trying to get comfortable. Fret not. I will not touch you.”
“Why should I trust you? Norsemen are raiders and murderers, you—”
“Hush. You are angered still over the raid at Lindesfarne. Blame me not. I did not destroy your precious monastery.”
“Mine? How dare you call that lump of stone mine? That belonged to them, not me. You can tear down every monastery and abbey stone by stone and hurl them into the sea for all I care.”
Her violent words shocked him. One moment, Odaria acted tender and sweet, and a second later, she sounded cold and uncaring. She reminded him of some of the women back home. He laughed. “Does Norse blood run through your body?”
“What? Nay.” He heard her sigh. “I’m lyin’ here. Now pray tell me the other thing you wish me to do. I would hope to sleep a bit tonight. The sun shall rise in a few hours.”
He looked at Odaria. His silver and jade brooch gleamed in the moonlight. It pleased him that she liked his gift. “Answer my questions. And I want to hear the truth. No lies, ja?”
“Aye. Ask what you will.”
“Did another ship of Nordmenn land here a fortnight ago?”
“Nay. I know nothing of a ship.”
“Are you certain?”
“Aye. I’ve not seen others like you before tonight.”
He frowned. Hel. He’d been hoping that Odaria had seen the ship or at least heard a rumor about it. For a woman, she seemed to know many things. “Have you heard anyone speak of a man called Orvind?”
“Nay.” She yawned. “Must you keep me awake with questions I canna answer?”
“Speak the truth. I need to find Orvind.”
“And I need to sleep. I told you, I know not of this person. Would you rather I lie?”
He closed his eyes. By Thor, now what? He had to find Orvind and bring him home, dead or alive. It was not his wish to leave the comfort of his farm and set sail on this reckless mission, but he had no choice in the matter. His uncle had ordered him to find Orvind, even though he was a damned fool for taking a knarr and sailing away without permission.
“Why are you searching for him here? Who is he?”
“My cousin. Orvind set sail for this isle weeks ago and vanished. I’m here to find him and bring him home.”
“Perhaps he sailed to another isle. There are many nearby.”
“He was going to Strjonsey.” He saw Odaria scowl, then explained. “That is our name for this place.”
“Aye.” Odaria tugged the sheepskin covering up to her chin and yawned. “If I knew of a ship, I would tell you.”
From the tender tone in her voice, he knew Odaria was being honest with him. “Ja.” He pressed his fingertips to his eyes and sighed. His head ached from too much beer and not enough sleep. Today was one of the longest days of his life. Sailing here and taking charge of the capture of these villagers had—
Suddenly, an idea came to him. “Are there more Picts living on this isle? Is there another village? Perhaps on the far side of this rock?”
“Nay, no longer. Once there was a tiny village not far from here. But it was combined with this one. The isle is not big. I kin walk all the way round it in a day if I wish.”
Damn. Looking for Orvind in another village had been a good idea. In the morning, he would send Karnik’s men to explore the nearest isles, just in case Orvind’s ship had been blown off course.
“And tell me, who is in charge of this village? What is his name?”
“A loathsome beast named Brennan. Should you see him, run him through with your broadsword.”
He turned to Odaria, surprised at her vicious tone. Why did she hate Brennan so? He thought of asking her, then changed his mind. What did he care of their quarrel? He was here to find Orvind. The leader of the village would certainly have heard of a longship coming ashore, or being dashed against the rocks. Tomorrow, he would force Brennan to tell him what he knew.
