Ragnar the Murderer (11 page)

He gradually grew stronger, colour returned to his cheeks, and Aelfwyn spent much time washing and combing his hair as he again couldn’t do it himself.

“
Why do I feel like I’ve been doing this forever?” She pretended to complain one night when they met in Bjarni and Saehild’s hut.

“
You have been doing it forever today. Are you nearly finished?”

“
Don’t be so impatient! I’m not your slave!” She slapped his ear.

“
My love slave.” He pulled her onto his lap with his uninjured arm, and kissed her ardently. “When shall we run away?”

“
Any time. Where would we go?”

“
We could live at the cave. No one knows it except Kjartan-“ He bit his lip.

“
I don’t want him arriving unexpectedly.” She shivered.  “There must be another place.”

“
We could find another village to live in: a Danish one. No Anglisc would accept me.”

“
It wouldn’t be easy.”

“
No, but- never mind- we’ll talk about it another time.”

She suddenly realised how fluent his Anglisc had become. How stilted it had been when she first met him.

*  *  *

The preparations for her wedding to Eadbald continued, despite her secret liaisons with Ragnar. She led a double life, slipping off to meet him late at night, then playing dutiful daughter in daylight. Sigulf covered for her now Saehild had left.

“
Please be careful sister. Eadbald is the sensible choice, Ragnar is uncertain. Has he given you a love token?”

Aelfwyn realised he hadn’t.

“
You could speak to him if you like. As my brother and representative.”

“
Very well.”

Sigulf and Aelfwyn set off that night to visit Ragnar together.

“
Good evening,” he said, eyeing Sigulf with surprise.

“
This is my brother.”

“
I’ve come to ask what your intentions are towards my sister.” Sigulf peered up at Ragnar, at least a hand’s breadth taller than himself.

“
Er- well- I want to marry her and live with her.”

“
Where would you live?”

“
Er- we- we haven’t thought of that yet.”

“
Hm. How would you support her?”

Ragnar suppressed a smile.

“
I would wait until I finish my training, then we would both travel round with the Jarl on business. Or I would travel and she would remain here.”

“
Hm. Wouldn’t she be lonely while you are travelling?”

“
Shut up Sigulf, you’re causing problems,” interrupted Aelfwyn.

“
No, he isn’t. I must think of such things.” Ragnar stroked his beard. “He is right to ask me.”

“
What guarantee can you give my sister that you are true and not leading her on?”

Ragnar looked away, uncertain.

“
I am not sure of him,” said Sigulf as he walked back with Aelfwyn later. “I don’t want you hurt.”

“
He’d never hurt me.”

“
Hm.”

Aelfwyn found herself affected by her brother’s doubts and fell silent.

*  *  *

Two days before the wedding, Aelfwyn still had not heard from Ragnar since Sigulf interviewed him.

Maybe she had been unwise to become involved with a Dane. At least she still had her virtue intact, or so she presumed. Or would the pleasure they had shared in the cave constitute the loss of such virtue?

That night, Sigulf woke her.

“
Sh. Ragnar wants to meet you,” he hissed.

She quietly got out of bed, relieved. He waited in the shadows outside the village. The Anglisc men turned a blind eye to Danes coming and going these days.

“
I’ve got something to prove I love you,” he whispered and put a small leather bundle in her hand.

She unwrapped it and held it up to the light of the nearly full moon. A copper pendant, threaded onto a leather lace with one side decorated, the other flat.

“
What’s that on the back?” She peered at some lettering.

“
It says our names in runic. They are linked together.”

“
H-how did you get this?”

“
Valbrand the Smith owed me. I saved his son once. But he didn’t know how to spell Aelfwyn, so it’s guesswork.”

“
It’s lovely! No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.” She felt a tear in her eye but told herself not to be so sentimental.

“
Well, if you don’t believe I love you, this shows I do. And you could always sell it if you needed money.”

“
I’m not going to sell it! You fool.” She thumped his arm and gazed up at him lovingly.

“
So, how long until you marry?” He knew in his heart, he just wanted to hear it from her.

“
The day after tomorrow.”

“
Come with me to the cave now,” he said impulsively.

“
Isn’t it dangerous at night? There are wolves about.”

“
If we walk in the stream, they won’t smell us.”

So that is what they did, after making a detour to Hallfridby to pick up two large torches. As spring was turning to summer, the stream water caressed their feet rather than shocking them with cold. The moon lit up the trees, the cliffs and the grass with a soft, blue light. The stars watched their progress, Aelfwyn hadn’t noticed how many there were before tonight.

She became aware of wolves skulking in the bushes, but the stream’s wide bed of uneven stones with a small bank at either side, gave both the humans and animals a clear view of each other and allowed no surprise attacks. The wolves had endured numerous confrontations with the Danes and were wary. Especially as Ragnar waved his torch aggressively at any sign of approach, and Aelfwyn copied him, feeling like his queen. He held his spear in the other hand and wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

When they reached the cave, Ragnar stuck his torch in the entrance to fend off any inquisitive animals. He stripped off his wet boots and knelt by the fire, trying to light the touchwood. Aelfwyn lit the other torches in the cave walls, putting hers into another crevice in the rock. She looked round the cave. It appeared so cosy with bearskins piled in the bed corner and other useful items set out on various rock shelves. If only they could live here, far from the problems at home.

“
There, now we’ll be warmer.” He stood up. “Take your wet shoes off, kisa.”

She had forgotten her shoes in her relief at being alone with him. Quickly removing them, she decided to remove her leggings as well. They were wet from the stream and she could take them off under her skirt with modesty. Looking up, she saw Ragnar observing her surreptitiously. He blushed when she noticed. Gazing at each other, she held out her hand and drew him towards her as she moved backwards onto the makeshift bed.

Tiene

“
I don’t want Eadbald to be the first,” Aelfwyn whispered. “I want you.” She lay back on the bed, pulling him down with her. He kissed her gently, on her lips, her cheeks, her neck, then she loosened his clothes. They were both so wrapped up against the early summer night that it took a while to undress, but they didn’t delay and were soon naked under the bear skins.

She pressed herself against his firm body, lightheaded with lust, and he pulled her on top of him. Her breasts fell gently onto his chest, so soft against his hard muscles. She could feel his erection pushing at her thigh and teasing wetness surged between her legs as she wriggled on him, quivering with desire. He held her tightly and rolled carefully over, so he was poised over her, supporting himself so as not to squash her. Her dark hair spread out on the bear skin, she breathed in his wavy auburn locks as they fell in her face.

“
Are you sure?” he asked, hanging on to the last minute, knowing if he didn’t stop now, he couldn’t.

“
Yes, I’m sure!” Her voice squeaked with desperation, she had to have him, she couldn’t wait.

He edged himself inside her, half worried about hurting her, half wanting to just thrust it in, not care about her feelings and just satisfy his long suppressed lust. He could never hurt her though!

She gave a low moan, on the verge of animal and he shuddered with the effort to keep still.

“
Alright?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“
Yes! Just do it, please, please!” She wanted to feel like she had last time, she had to! His fingers had not been enough, she wanted the ultimate, the prize just out of reach. She spread her legs wider, feeling she would explode if he didn’t move.

The last shreds of his self-control disappeared and he thrust into her as hard as he could, again and again, feeling free at last.

She writhed with pleasure, trying to open her legs more and more to let him in. She couldn’t get enough of him inside her. He rubbed every part of her, scratching every itch she’d never known she had. Unaware of the alluring sounds she was making, she could only hear his groans, feel his body all over her, smell him.

His muscles glistened, every part of him hard, the promise of their previous time together coming true. She was overcome by the feeling of fullness, as if something she had been missing without knowing fitted there at last. She arched against him, her hair fanning out on the pillow, her eyes shut with satisfaction, primitive, animal sounds coming from her parted lips.

He had wanted her for so long that it became too much very quickly. His seed burst into her after only a few deep thrusts, filling her with his heat and wetness to add to her own. He carefully moved off her, his heart pounding.

Both breathing hard, she grinned at him while he lay by her side. She felt like she had been cleaned, her head felt light and she couldn’t think clearly. Whatever petty little events had she been worried about before? Everything would all be fine, there were no problems she couldn’t solve.

He pulled the bear skin over them both and they snuggled down for a while. She felt a bit shy, but when she cuddled up to him, he was keen to hold her.

“
I can’t marry Eadbald.”

“
But- your parents. Won’t they force you?”

“
No, they won’t if I really resist. I can manage them if they ostracise me. It is my life, not theirs.”

“
Then I’d marry you. If you don’t object to me as well.”

“
Hm, well, I’d quite like to keep my property for myself, if I get any from my parents. Then there’s my status in the village, a Danish husband might make me unpopular.”

His face fell.

“
Oh, you’re teasing me! You cruel woman.” He hugged her to him tightly in a bear hug and his cock sprang up, pushing against her thigh.

She quivered and looked into his eyes, giving consent, a wish, a desire. So he laid her down again and this time, slid himself inside her much more confidently. He moved slowly, teasing her with his deliberate pace, then when she gasped for more, suddenly speeded up, hammering into her until she panted.

Her heart pounded, she wanted him to get as far into her as he could. She squirmed with desire, stretching her legs apart as far as they would go, then curling them up over his back, disturbing his rhythm.

But he wasn’t to be put off. He moved slowly again, circling inside her, every move getting so near to a thrust, but tantalisingly resisting.

She dug her nails into his back, clawing at him, making him catch his breath and pause.

“
Sorry,” she gasped, not wanting to disturb him, fearing he would stop.

“
Don’t be. It doesn’t hurt.” He thrust into her, again and again, so fast that she couldn’t breathe, the air knocked out of her.

He suddenly realised he was squashing the breath out of her and slowed so she could gasp it in again. Light headed for many reasons, breathlessness being only one, she loved the feel of his weight crushing her.

He continued slowly for a while, then made a few more quick, hard thrusts, making both of them gasp and cry out in shared pleasure. Then he shuddered and filled her with his heat again, pulsing into her, bonding them together.

Panting, they lay side by side, then gazed at each other in something like awe.

“
I will never love another man,” she said, running her finger down his cheek, pushing back his hair, which tangled round his face, dark with sweat.

“
And I will never love another woman.” He gulped, an unfamiliar sensation rising in his throat. Was it… emotion? What was the matter with him, allowing a woman to make him weep? What would his comrades say if they saw him?