The Viking's Witch (3 page)

When he reached the staircase, he released Odaria. “
Sitja
.”

She sat on the bottom step and bowed her head.

“Stay,” he ordered, then hurried back to the door. He wanted to make sure it was secure. It wouldn’t do to have a horde of angry villagers invading the gathering hall while everyone was asleep. Were there other hidden doorways down here?

He examined the door closely. It wasn’t very thick. A man with a broadaxe could chop through easily enough, but he didn’t think the villagers would risk alerting them. If anything—

A noise behind him interrupted his thoughts, and he turned.

Odaria was crying into her hands. The pitiful sound tore at his heart. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Why had the gods punished him by sending him here? Four days ago, he was peacefully tending his fields at home, with no troubles or concerns. Now he was far across the sea contending with an aching head and a weeping young woman.

He walked back to the staircase and stood over Odaria. He hadn’t intended to make her cry, but she needed to obey him—for her own good.

Deep down, he felt sorry for her. She was alone, and “bloodthirsty Norsemen” had just invaded her village. He had seen grown men driven mad with fear when their villages were taken. How could a mere girl be expected to cope with such a terrifying event?

“I canna go on,” she whispered, as she glanced into his eyes.

He turned his head, avoiding her gaze. He hated to admit it, but something about Odaria unnerved him. Whenever she looked at him, she peered deep into his eyes. It seemed as if she was trying to see into his head and read his thoughts.

He scoffed. That was foolish. His eyes were an unusual color, and many people commented on them. “Eyes of ice with a heart to match,” is what they said. He let them believe it, although it wasn’t true.

“I tried so hard to hold on and be brave, but there’s only so much I kin take,” Odaria wailed. “I’m tired and cold and hungry, and I wanna go home.” She burst into tears and hid her face in her hands.

He sat next to her. When would this dreadful night end? All he wanted was to live a peaceful life, not tear apart villages and soothe weeping maidens.

“Shh, don’t cry.” He patted Odaria’s shoulder and was surprised to find that her skin felt icy cold. “Come here,” he said, drawing her into his arms. He couldn’t help but hold her. A woman’s tears always tugged at his heart, no matter how hard he tried to resist.

He wrapped his arms around Odaria’s trembling shoulders and breathed in deep. She smelled like smoke. Had she been near the bonfire with the others?

As Odaria relaxed against his chest, her sobs lessened. He smoothed her hair and rocked her. The feel of her large breasts pressing against the front of his tunic sent a rush of blood to his groin. He closed his eyes as he felt his penis stir. Three long years had passed since he’d been able to grow hard. Until now, he hadn’t thought it would be possible to make love to a woman again, but Odaria had sparked something within him.

She looked up at him. “Set me free, Rothgar. I beg you. I willna tell anyone. I want to go home.”

“Not tonight.” He shook his head. “You will stay with me.”

She pulled from his arms. “Nay, not here. Not with
them
. If you hadna come along when you did …” She broke off and sobbed.

“Ivor will not touch you again. I swear it.” He glanced down and saw that Odaria’s right breast was exposed. Her torn chemise offered him a full view of her rosy nipple. The sight of it made his heart pound faster, and he longed to suckle her.

Odaria caught him looking at her. “Pig!” She covered herself with her hands and turned away. “Ivor’s not the only man I need to fear.”

He bowed his head, ashamed of himself. Instead of comforting Odaria, he’d made the situation worse. What could he say to soothe her? If he hadn’t heard her bloodcurdling scream and rescued her when he did, Ivor and the others would have had their way with her. There was no sense in denying the truth. Odaria was a tempting young woman. She wouldn’t stand a chance against the other Norsemen if he left her to fend for herself. Somehow he had to make her understand that she needed to stay with him—for as long as necessary.

He unpinned a silver brooch from the front of his tunic. “Here. Face me.”

Odaria obeyed and folded her arms across her breasts, shielding them from his sight. She scowled at the brooch. “What is that?”

“A pin for your …” He glanced at the front of her chemise and cleared his throat. “To cover up. May I?”

“Aye.” She closed her eyes. “Pray do.”

As he gathered the two halves of Odaria’s torn chemise, his fingertips brushed against her soft skin. His groin tingled, and he delighted in the sensation. After a moment, the feeling faded, and he snapped back to the task at hand. He mended the strap, taking care not to prick Odaria’s tender flesh with the sharp pin. The brooch rested just below her collarbone.

“There, it is better now. You are covered.”

Odaria trailed her finger over the brooch’s intricate pattern of knots and jewels. “’Tis lovely. What is it?”

“Silver and jade,” he answered, then cleared his throat. “You must remain with me. It is the only way I know to keep you safe.”

“I’d be safer if I were set free. I need no Norseman’s protection. I kin fend for meself.”

“As you did with Ivor?”

Odaria frowned but didn’t answer.

“Stay with me. Eat your fill. I will protect you from the others. No harm shall come to you, I swear.” He waited for her to say something. Whether Odaria agreed with him mattered not. She had no choice in the matter. She
was
going to stay with him—for as long as he wanted. If she protested, he would tie her to a chair and keep her as his prisoner.

“Aye, I’ll remain with you,” she whispered.

“
Gut
.” He nudged her with his elbow. “And no more throwing turnips at my head,
ja
?”

She flashed him a little smile. “Aye.”

He stood and gestured for Odaria to start upstairs ahead of him. Tonight he’d have to keep a close watch over her. Ivor and the others already despised him for ruining their fun, and they would not be pleased to see him with Odaria. But he was prepared to fight them all to keep her. Odaria was special. She had ignited deep feelings in him that he’d thought were long dead.

He clutched his necklace in his right hand and prayed for strength as he climbed the stairs. It was going to be a very long night indeed.

Rothgar stepped into the main room with Odaria trailing behind him. He glanced around. The huge table he had flipped over had been righted. Several chairs and benches were arranged around it. Someone had stoked the fire and lit more candles. Even with the extra light, long shadows flickered on the walls. Ivor, Olav, and Knut turned to him.

“Are you finished with her?” Knut asked in Norse. “We’re waiting for our turns.”

He shook his head and straightened his shoulders. “She’s mine. Anyone who tries to harm her contends with me.”

“But I found her,” Ivor said.

He chuckled. “
Ja
, but you did not
keep
her.”

He motioned for Odaria to sit in the chair near the head of the table, then spoke to Ivor. “There is enough food and drink downstairs to feed us all. Go beneath that room.” He pointed to the cookroom. “Have Knut help you carry it up.”

“Neinn. We don’t have to take orders from you. We are not under your command,” Ivor snapped. “We are real men who have sailed the seas and searched for treasures while you cowered at home and tended to your garden like a woman.”

In the blink of an eye, he charged across the room and slammed Ivor against the far wall. He grabbed him by the front of his red tunic and hoisted him a foot off the floor, raising him to his own eye level. He wrapped his free hand around Ivor’s throat and squeezed hard.

“Do you think me a woman now? If you ever disrespect me again, I will crack open your skull.” Ivor gagged and squirmed in his grip, but he held him pinned to the wall.

“I sailed the seas for ten years, and I did more than you could ever imagine. The number of men I’ve slain is double that of your years alive.” He smirked and stared into Ivor’s eyes. “Do you honestly think you are a challenge to me? Do as I command, else you will be the first man I slay this night.”

Satisfied with the look of horror on Ivor’s paled face, he dropped him to the floor. Ivor landed in a heap on the straw, coughing and gasping for breath.

He looked at Knut and Olav. Neither of them moved to help Ivor. They obeyed orders and knew better than to cross him. After all, he was a powerful and wealthy
jarl
. Wise men feared making an enemy of him.

“Bring up the food,” he told Knut. “When Karnik arrives he’ll want to eat as well.”

“
Ja
, Rothgar,” Knut replied, then went into the cookroom.

He glanced at Odaria. She sat in the chair with her arms folded across her chest, glaring at Ivor. He knew she didn’t understand what he’d said to Ivor, but she obviously despised him. For Odaria’s benefit, he kicked Ivor in the ribs as a bit of added punishment.

“I should kill you for what you tried to do to her. Now leave my sight. You sicken me.”

Ivor slowly rose to his feet and shuffled into the cookroom.

Rothgar let out a long sigh. Thanks be to Odin, there were barrels of beer and wine downstairs. He needed a strong drink. Tonight could not end soon enough for him.

Thirty minutes later, Rothgar placed a buttered roll next to Odaria’s bowl of soup. “Eat slow. Do not tax your gut or you shall be ill.”

“Aye, I kin feed meself,” she said as she dipped the roll into the broth.

He bit into a leg of mutton and glanced at the twenty men seated around the large table. They were eating and drinking as if they were at a spring festival. That was a good sign. It was to his advantage to keep Karnik’s men in high spirits. Otherwise, there could be trouble.

So far, there had been no more quarrels over Odaria. As soon as the men had assembled, he’d stood and declared Odaria his and his alone. He challenged any man who thought he was up to the task of taking her from him to step forward. None of them dared.

He broke from his thoughts as the main door swung open. Karnik entered the room and scowled as he spotted Odaria.

“Who is this wench, and why is she sitting at the head of the table?”

Ivor sipped beer from his drinking horn and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “She is Rothgar’s pet, even though I found her first. It’s not fair that he gets to keep a girl for his pleasures while we suffer alone. He even gave her his brooch to—”

Rothgar stood up, and Ivor fell silent.

Karnik crossed the room and stood next to him. “Is this true, Rothgar? You found her and kept her for yourself even though you ordered
all
the villagers netted? You made me promise to keep my men away from the women while you—”

“Be quiet.” He glared at Karnik. “If you will close your mouth and listen, I will explain.” He looked at Ivor. “He’s just bitter because I prevented him from assaulting her.”

Odaria glanced at him, and he caught a worried look in her green eyes. How much, if any, of their Norse language did she understand? It wouldn’t surprise him if she reasoned out what Karnik was saying.

“Fret not, Odaria.” He handed her a small silver dagger designed for cutting meat. “If anyone tries to touch you, use this,” he said in her Pict tongue.

She nodded.

Rothgar motioned for Karnik to follow him to the far side of the room. He wanted to speak with him privately but didn’t dare leave Odaria’s sight.

“What’s come over you, Rothgar? You gave her a place at the table. Why would—?”

“Because I need to.”

“Need to?” Karnik arched an eyebrow. “This is no time for you to sate your lust with—”

“Don’t be stupid.” He rolled his eyes. “Odaria may know what happened to Orvind’s ship. She might be able to tell me where he is.”

“More than likely he’s deep in a watery grave,” Karnik muttered.

“That’s possible. But I did not volunteer to search for him. My uncle summoned me.” He paused and scratched his beard. “Are you going to act against the king’s orders?”

Karnik shook his head. “But keeping her for your use and denying the others women of their own—”

“Are they going to question the villagers? Do they understand the Pict tongue? Should I use Ivor’s method of fact gathering and ravish the women until they are hysterical, then expect reasonable answers to my questions?”

Rothgar glanced at Odaria over Karnik’s shoulder. She held the dagger in her right hand as she spooned soup into her mouth with her left. The poor girl was starving. She’d already eaten two bowls of soup and a plate of fish. How long had she gone without a proper meal?

“Tear your eyes away from her breasts for a second and listen to me.” Karnik moved in front of him, blocking his view of Odaria. “Feed her, then net her with the others. It’s only fair.”

“Never. She stays with me.”

“You’re sweet on her, aren’t you?”

His mouth dropped open, and he closed it quickly. The last thing he wanted was for Karnik to become suspicious. If Karnik knew he had a weakness for Odaria, he wouldn’t hesitate to use it against him to get what he wanted.