Viking (15 page)

“You can do that?”

“Aye. Come to me if you need it.”

Rika nodded and limped away.

“What did you tell my wife?” Rolo wanted to know. He had entered the hall in time to see Rika speaking with Fiona.

“I was but offering her some womanly advice,” Fiona ventured. “She is young; you were too hard on her last night. A woman’s first time should be accomplished without violence.”

“Do not tell me what to do, witch. And leave my wife alone. I do not trust you.”

“Has Fiona done something to offend you?” Thorne asked as he joined them.

“She has been putting ideas into my bride’s head,” Rolo said crossly. “I cannot believe that I ever wanted the witch in my bed.”

Thorne went still. “But you
did
have her in your bed, didn’t you, Rolo?”

Rolo’s gaze swung to Fiona, his brow lifted. “What did Fiona tell you?”

“Fiona said you were impotent with her.”

Though seething with anger, Rolo threw back his head and howled with laughter. “Me? Impotent? Ask my bride just how impotent I am.” He laughed again. “She’ll tell you that I took her four times last night. Does that sound like a man lacking in vigor?”

“Fiona is carrying a child,” Thorne said evenly. “Could it be yours?”

Fiona stifled a cry of dismay, hurt and appalled by Thorne’s question. She’d thought that issue had already been resolved. Apparently something or someone had raised new doubts in Thorne’s mind.

Thorne’s words stunned Rolo. He had no intention of claiming the witch’s spawn, but admitting that he’d been rendered impotent by Fiona’s black magic was equally abhorrent to him.

“I relinquish all claim to the child,” Rolo vowed. “ ’Tis yours, Thorne, and you are welcome to it.”

Rolo’s disclaimer did not assuage Thorne’s lingering doubts. “Are you saying you bedded Fiona while she was with you?”

“What do you think? You knew I wanted her.”

“Nay!” Fiona cried. “He lies! Do not believe him, Thorne. Rolo’s pride is wounded, the truth embarrasses him. My skin still crawls when I think of his hands upon me. He tried to take me, but that vile thing between his legs refused to harden after I fed him herbs to make him impotent.”

Rolo lifted his hand to strike Fiona, but Thorne stepped between them. “Do not touch her.”

“You heard what she said. Would you let a woman slander you in such a manner?”

“I heard, but I am not sure she lies. Fiona has knowledge of herbs and medicines that can do strange things.”

“You do believe me, don’t you, Thorne?” Fiona asked hopefully. “The babe is yours. I’ve known no other man.”

“Perhaps I believe you,” Thorne said after a long pause.

Rolo snorted in disgust. “You’re a besotted fool, Thorne the Relentless.” Then he turned and strode away, satisfied that he had adequately defended his manhood. A man had his pride. No woman was going to make a fool of him.

Several days later Ulm arrived with a plea from Thorolf. Foul weather and illness had slowed the building of his hall, and Thorolf wanted Thorne to bring his men to help complete the building so that they might have shelter from the harsh elements. Of course, Thorne could not refuse and made plans to leave the following morning.

“How long will you be gone?” Fiona wanted to know.

“I have no idea,” Thorne said distractedly. “It depends on the weather and the speed with which we rebuild the hall.”

Fiona’s heart skipped a beat. “You
will
return, won’t you?”

He gave her a hard look. “Do you think I’d leave you to Rolo?”

She regarded him solemnly. “I don’t know. I cannot see into your heart.”

“Fear not, Fiona. I have your future well in hand.”

His words hung between them like a dark, ominous cloud. What kind of future did Thorne have in mind? she wondered. She watched in growing apprehension as Thorne turned away and spoke at length with Rolo. She knew they were talking about her, for Rolo kept sending her sidelong glances.

Fiona dreaded the thought of remaining in Rolo’s hall without Thorne. Bretta hated her and Rolo feared her magic power. It was disheartening to be trapped in a country where people hated and feared her. She longed for Man, for her father and the people she knew and loved. But most of all she missed Brann, the wizard who had taught her to accept the gift God had given her and to use it wisely.

That night there was no private farewell for Fiona and Thorne. The hall was crowded with men and women sleeping on benches and on the floor, making privacy impossible. Thorne had seemed distracted and on edge during the evening meal, and Bretta didn’t help matters when she sweetly asked Thorne if he still intended to claim Rolo’s child as his own.

Rolo forestalled Thorne’s answer. “I want nothing to do with Fiona or the child. I relinquish my claim to the little bastard.”

Thorne’s jaw clenched and Fiona felt the pressing weight of his confusion. She opened her mouth to fling out an angry retort, but Thorne’s silent warning stopped her.

“Don’t say it, Fiona,” Thorne bit out. “I’ve heard your explanation before. I’m inclined to believe you, but … Thor’s beard, what is truth and what are lies? Both Rolo and Bretta want me to believe you are carrying Rolo’s child.”

“And I say Rolo never bedded me,” Fiona declared. “I’ve never encountered a man as stubborn as you. Perhaps we don’t belong together.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Thorne returned without enthusiasm. He would never give Fiona up. The spell she had cast upon him would endure until he drew his final breath. But it wouldn’t do to let Fiona know just how besotted he was with her.

Fiona could feel Bretta’s burning gaze pierce her as she rose from the table and went in search of Tyra. Tyra was her only friend in this household of vipers. Fiona sensed danger closing in, and there was nothing she could do about it.

That night Fiona was awakened by a terrible, wrenching cry that came from Rolo’s room. Thorne must have heard, too, for he sat up on his pallet and reached for his weapon.

“What is it?” Thorne asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“ ’Tis Rika,” Fiona said. “Rolo is an animal. I think he hurts the child on purpose. Is there nothing we can do?”

“ ’Tis none of our concern. Rika is Rolo’s wife.”

“There is something
I
can do,” Fiona muttered beneath her breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Why doesn’t Rika divorce Rolo? ’Tis an easy thing to do in your country.”

Thorne shrugged. “Perhaps she will. But it is not our place to interfere. We are guests here. Come here,” he said, holding out his hand to her. “The night is still young. I wish to hold you in my arms before I leave.”

Fiona thought to refuse, then changed her mind. A voice inside her whispered that it might be the last time for a long while that Thorne would hold her like this. She rose from her bench and joined Thorne on his pallet. He covered them both with his fur cloak and curved his body around hers. She sighed in perfect contentment and started to doze off when the sound of Thorne’s voice roused her from sleep.

“Your breasts have gotten larger,” he whispered as he weighed a breast in his large hand. His hand slid down to her stomach. “Not much difference here, though.”

Fiona tensed as his hand pressed into the indentation between her legs. “Have you missed me, Fiona? Do you crave my manhood inside you?” He began inching up her tunic, baring her legs. “Will you seek Rolo’s bed after I leave?”

Fiona gasped in outrage. “How dare you! Rolo is a pig.”

The hem of her tunic was up around her waist now as his hand sought her heated center beneath the fur robe. Around them men stirred in their sleep but did not awaken.

“What are you doing?”

“We cannot indulge our passion as we wish, but I can still give you pleasure.” He turned her on her back and probed his finger upward into her moist heat. He stretched her with his thumb and inserted a second finger. When he began to thrust and withdraw, Fiona nearly screamed aloud. But his mouth covered hers, swallowing her cries.

His tongue began a rhythm inside her mouth that mimicked the movement of his fingers below. Fiona felt her bones melt, felt her tender passage expand and grow taut beneath the frantic thrusting of his fingers. And she felt heat rising inside her, burning, scalding through her veins.

“Now, Fiona, come now,” Thorne panted into her ear. Then his mouth took hers again, muffling her cries as she arched sharply upward and climaxed around his fingers.

“Why did you do that?” Fiona asked once her breathing had returned to normal.

“I didn’t want to leave without a proper good-bye.” He paused, then said, “Only the gods know what the future will bring.”

Fiona thought he sounded oddly distant, as if he had already removed himself from her. She sighed but did not voice her fears. No matter what Thorne did or said, nothing would change the course of Fate. The road might be fraught with trials and tribulations, but they were fated to be together forever. She closed her eyes, snuggled deeper into Thorne’s arms and slipped easily into slumber.

Thorne listened to the even cadence of Fiona’s breathing and knew she slept. Unfortunately, sleep
eluded him. He feared that Fiona would turn to Rolo in his absence. He knew he was acting like a jealous, besotted fool and blamed it on Fiona’s spell. He didn’t want to leave but he could not in good conscience deny Thorolf’s request for help. Fiona would be waiting for him when he returned, of that he was certain, but would she still want him? Only time would tell.

Thorne and his men were gone the next morning when Fiona awakened. Tyra told her they had left at first light.

A short time later Rika emerged from Rolo’s room, sobbing hysterically. She ran to Fiona and fell to her knees. “I beg you, Fiona, please help me. I cannot bear Rolo’s abuse another night. My mother mentioned nothing about this kind of pain when she told me what takes place between a husband and wife.”

“Not all men are like Rolo,” Fiona said, raising the girl from her knees. “Some are gentle and giving with their wives.”

“Can you help me?” Rika asked as she perched gingerly on the edge of the bench beside Fiona.

Fiona cast a furtive glance around her, saw no one within hearing and said, “Aye, I can help you. But you must do exactly as I say.”

“I’ll do anything, Fiona,
anything,
to end this nightly torture.”

Fiona smiled and drew her medicine chest from beneath the bench.

Chapter Fifteen

“You want me to mix this into Rolo’s mead tonight?” Rika asked curiously as she accepted a small packet from Fiona.

“Aye. Sooner, if he wishes to bed you again before nightfall. But don’t let him see you do it.”

“What will it do to him?”

“Render him impotent. He won’t be able to hurt you.”

Rika regarded her solemnly. “He will beat me.”

“I will threaten him with dire consequences if he tries. Would your family take you back?”

Rika nodded vigorously. “Oh, aye. They would be angry if they knew I was being mistreated. My father was reluctant to give me to Rolo at first, but Rolo convinced us that he would be a gentle and loving husband. I realize now that he put off bedding
me until we reached his homestead so my family wouldn’t hear my cries.”

“Then you must divorce Rolo and return to your family. I will threaten him with a spell if he won’t let you go or attempts to harm you. Rolo already fears me. It wouldn’t be difficult to make him believe I will make him permanently impotent.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would do it for any woman in your position. I have learned something of your laws here. Viking women have rights and exercise them often. Divorce is a simple matter in your land. I believe Rolo married you because you are young and inexperienced and he could subjugate you to his will.”

Rika looked puzzled. “Does not Thorne subjugate you to his will?”

“Perhaps he
thinks
he does. I was a captive. He could have bedded me any time he pleased, but he married me first. Does that sound as if he dominates me?”

“Bretta says you bewitched Thorne. He was to marry Bretta until he saw you on Man and fell under your spell.”

“Bretta is a bitter woman. Believe her not.”

Fiona would have said more but she fell silent when Rolo strode into the hall, a fur cloak thrown over his nakedness. “There you are, Rika. Why did you leave our bed? I am not finished with you. Bring a flagon of mead with you when you come. And be quick about it. Since you are still too inexperienced to satisfy me, I must spend more time teaching you how to please me.”

He turned and strode away without waiting for a reply.

Rika paled and began to shake.

“The herb, Rika, use it,” Fiona hissed. “Mix it in his mead now and make sure he drinks it all before he tries to bed you.”

Rika nodded jerkily and went to fetch the mead.

Fiona fidgeted nervously after Rika entered Rolo’s chamber with the flagon of mead. She hadn’t wanted to frighten Rika, but this endeavor could turn ugly. Rolo was a brutal man prone to violence. If Rika’s situation weren’t desperate, Fiona wouldn’t have suggested so dangerous a ploy.

Matters came to a climax later that day when Rolo let out a roar that reverberated through the hall and stormed out of his chamber, stark naked, dragging Rika by the hair.

“This is your fault, witch!” he shouted, pointing a condemning finger at Fiona. “You have done it again.” He dragged Rika forward. “This whining child possesses neither your power nor your skills, and I detect your fine hand in this.”

Feigning innocence, Fiona said, “I know not what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” Rolo shouted. He tossed Rika aside and advanced on Fiona. “Take a good look, witch.” He thrust out his loins. Fiona saw his limp organ dangling between his legs and wanted to laugh. Fortunately, she was astute enough to display no emotion whatever.

“Remove your spell, witch!” Rolo demanded.

“Cover yourself, brother,” Bretta hissed as she
tossed a cloak over Rolo’s shoulders. The commotion had drawn her into the hall. One glance at the unfolding scene warned her that her brother was close to violence. All of it directed at Fiona. Her mind worked furiously as she sought a way to turn her brother’s fury to her own advantage. She’d been waiting for the opportunity to get rid of Fiona permanently, and the gods had provided it.

Abruptly Rolo turned his rage on Rika, who was cowering at his feet. “Bitch!” he screamed, kicking her in the ribs. “You and Fiona have conspired together to rob me of my manhood.”

Rika scrambled to her feet, holding her side, her face stiff with resolve as she sought Fiona’s support for what she was about to do. Fiona nodded encouragement. It was exactly what Rika needed. Her jaw firmed beneath her trembling lips as she limped toward the bedchamber. Curious, Rolo and Bretta followed. Soon a crowd had gathered at the door.

Rika paused at the foot of Rolo’s bed, turned resolutely to face her husband and his household and said, “I divorce you, Rolo the Bold.” Then the small assemblage parted as she walked past them and through the hall, stopping at the front door. Once again she turned and said before witnesses, “I divorce you, Rolo the Bold.”

Silently applauding Rika’s courage, Fiona went to stand beside the young girl, lending her support. She had no idea what would happen next and feared she had unleashed a demon within Rolo.

Bretta gave a brittle laugh. “Well, well, the infant has claws. I wonder how much of this newfound
courage was inspired by Fiona. And I wonder if Fiona would have acted so rashly had she known that Thorne had instructed Rolo to get rid of her before he left to join his brother.”

Fiona went still. “What did you say?”

Rolo immediately seconded his sister’s lie. “ ’Tis true. Thorne told me to do with you as I please. He wants you gone from his life, for he doesn’t intend to return. Why do you think he took his men with him?”

“Thorne doesn’t want me?” Fiona repeated stupidly. “I don’t understand.”

“ ’Tis simple,” Bretta explained. “Thorne cannot live with the knowledge that Rolo sired your child. He wants you out of his life but didn’t trust himself to tell you of his decision. He fears that your spell is still too strong for him to openly defy you in a face-to-face confrontation.”

“I don’t believe you,” Fiona said, shaken to her very core.

“ ’Tis true,” Rolo concurred. “After the foul thing you have done to me, I wouldn’t allow you to remain in my home even if Thorne hadn’t wanted you sent away. You will leave immediately.”

Fiona heard the wind howling outside and shuddered. “Where will I go?”

“I made arrangements some time ago for your departure,” Bretta revealed. “Even before Thorne expressed his desire to be rid of you. I knew he would tire of you sooner or later.”

“I’ll take Fiona with me to my father’s hall,” Rika said, finally finding her voice.

“I suppose your father will demand the return of your dowry,” Rolo said nastily.

“ ’Tis the usual custom,” Rika returned.

“Allowing you to associate with Fiona was a terrible mistake,” Rolo said bitterly. “The witch has corrupted you. Go, go now, before I change my mind and kill you.”

Bretta laid a hand on her brother’s arm. “Do not be so hasty, brother. I said I had made prior arrangements for Fiona’s departure. My plans could also include Rika and Tyra. If I may have a private word with you …” She urged Rolo toward his bedchamber, where they could speak without being overheard.

“Do not attempt to leave until I return,” Rolo ordered harshly as he closed the door behind him and his sister.

“What does Bretta intend?” Rika asked once they were alone.

“Nothing good,” Fiona answered.

Fiona was still reeling over the bitter knowledge that Thorne wanted her out of his life. Could it be true? She had known Thorne was upset and confused over her pregnancy but she hadn’t once thought he would wish her harm. Had Brann’s predictions and prophesies been naught but figments of his fertile imagination?

Her mind spun with the painful truth. She had forced Thorne to marry her, and he had obliged because he thought himself bewitched by her. And to satisfy his lust. Apparently his lust had been sated and he no longer wanted her. The stubborn Viking
cared not at all that she carried his child. What was she to do now? What vile plan for her future had Bretta hatched?

“You and Tyra will accompany me to my home,” Rika said with the innocence of one who failed to recognize the potential danger they faced.

“Where do your parents live?” Fiona asked.

“Down the coast. Near Bergen. A six-day journey on foot.”

“ ’Tis winter,” Fiona said, “and I am carrying a child. I will not survive a six-day journey.”

Rika looked as if she wanted to cry. But being a Viking woman, she merely shrugged her shoulders and said, “I will carry you if I must. I am twice your size. Your slight weight will be easy to bear.”

Rika’s selfless offer brought tears to Fiona’s eyes. “Perhaps Rolo will lend us horses and enough food to carry us to your home,” she suggested hopefully.

Fiona’s hopes were dashed when Rolo and Bretta returned to the hall, their expressions far too smug for Fiona’s liking.

“ ’Tis settled,” Bretta said. “Arrangements have already been made with Roar the slave trader. One of his ships will transport you to Byzantium. I have but to inform him when to come for you.”

Fiona’s expression registered her shock. “Was it Thorne’s wish that I be sold?”

“Aye,” Rolo lied.

“Will you send Rika home to her father?”

“And part with her dowry? Not likely,” Rolo muttered loudly enough for Fiona to hear. “If Roar is agreeable, I will sell her along with you and Tyra.”

“I demand to be returned to Man,” Fiona said.

“You have no right to demand anything, witch,” Bretta crowed. “When Thorne deserted you, he left your fate in our hands. Roar’s clients in Byzantium clamor for fair-skinned slaves to warm their beds. He will take all three of you off our hands.”

Rika gasped in dismay. “Nay! You cannot do this to me. I am a free woman.”

“I can do as I please,” Rolo said nastily. “You are in league with the witch. No one would blame me.”

“I am with child,” Fiona said, clutching her belly.

Bretta shrugged. “It matters not. Roar has assured me that he can find a place for the child in some foreign potentate’s household should the infant survive the journey. All the better if the child is a boy, for many Eastern men enjoy boys in the same way most men enjoy women.”

Baring her nails, Fiona flew at Bretta. How could one so young and lovely be so heartless? she wondered. Though quickly subdued by the larger woman, Fiona nevertheless managed to scrape five raw lines down Bretta’s face. Bretta screeched and flung Fiona aside.

“You’ll be sorry, witch,” Bretta promised.

“Nay,” Fiona said, her violet eyes flashing with anger. “You and your brother will be the sorry ones.” She turned to Rolo, her eyes darkening to murky purple.

Rolo recoiled in fear as her gaze pierced through him, promising dire consequences. “Listen well, Rolo the Bold. I am called Fiona the Learned with good reason. I possess powers that can make your
staff shrivel up into your belly. Never again will you bed another woman if you and Bretta do this terrible thing.”

Fiona had no idea if her bold tactic would work, but it was worth a try. Rolo couldn’t possibly know she had no powers beyond that of her knowledge of herbs and medicines.

Overwhelming fear caused Rolo’s eyes to bug out. The ability to speak left him. He could do naught but stare mutely at Fiona, his jaw working soundlessly as his panic mounted.

Bretta had no such problem. “Seize them!” she cried out to Rolo’s warriors. “Do not let them escape. I will send for the slave trader directly.”

One man grabbed Tyra while others quickly surrounded Fiona and Rika and herded them toward the back of the hall. When Fiona felt the back of her legs collide with a bench, she sat down hard. Once they were subdued, Rolo approached them, his face mottled with rage.

“Remove the spell, witch!” he roared. He was so distraught, he appeared to be foaming at the mouth. “Take it away, I say! I am a man. A Viking. I will not allow you to turn me into a eunuch.”

Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “I will make a deal with you, Rolo. Send Rika back to her father and release Tyra and I will remove the spell.”

“Nay! I am not stupid. Rika will spread malicious gossip throughout the land about my … my … failure.” He shuddered. “Better that all three of you end your lives in Byzantium.”

“Think, Rolo,” Fiona said in a voice meant for his
ears alone. “Imagine yourself wanting a woman so badly you ache from it, and yet you cannot rise to the occasion. Think how your puny, shriveled flesh will look hanging useless between your legs, unable to bring you pleasure. You’re a young man, Rolo. Is restoring your manhood not worth a woman’s life?”

“Not if the entire kingdom ends up laughing at me,” he bit out harshly.

“Rika will promise not to breathe a word of this to anyone if you send her home to her father,” Fiona vowed. “Perhaps she can even convince her father to let you keep the bulk of her dowry.”

“Aye,” Rika said, echoing Fiona’s vow. “I promise to say naught.”

Rolo stroked his bearded chin as he considered Fiona’s request. He cared nothing for Rika. If she could convince her father to let him keep her dowry, he had no objections to sending her home. He could always say she’d proved inadequate as a wife. At this point he was willing to do almost anything to restore his manhood. The last time Fiona had worked her spell on him, he had remained impotent for nearly a fortnight. Being permanently unmanned was unthinkable.

“Do you promise to remove your spell if I agree to send Rika home to her father?” Rolo demanded.

“Aye. Send Rika home with a proper escort and I will remove the spell. What about Tyra?”

“My benevolence extends only to Rika. Tyra will share your fate. Thorne wants naught to do with you and neither do I. You and Tyra will be sold to the slave trader according to Bretta’s arrangement.”

“Very well,” Fiona said. “I will remove the spell the moment Rika is on her way with the escort. By tonight you will be fully restored and as vigorous as ever.”

“If I am not, I will kill you.” He turned abruptly to make arrangements for Rika’s departure.

“So,” Bretta said, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You were telling the truth about rendering Rolo impotent. Your child actually does belong to Thorne.”