Viking Warrior (2 page)

Wulf glared at Hagar’s back.

“Wulf,” Thora said, garnering Wulf’s attention. “What are you going to do with her? She claims you assaulted her and I am inclined to believe her.”

“Return me to my homeland, Wulf the Ruthless,” Reyna pleaded. “My family had nothing to do with the raid upon your farmstead. They didn’t kill your wife. My
father is a farmer and fisherman. He gave up raiding years ago. My brothers were away, trading along the Volga; they couldn’t have been involved in the raid on your farmstead.” Her green eyes sparkled with tears. “If you left them alive, eventually they will find me.”

Wulf turned his icy gaze on Reyna. Why hadn’t he noticed before how lovely she was? During the voyage to Constantinople, he had barely looked at her. She had been a pitiful sight with her torn clothing, matted hair and red-rimmed eyes, and he hadn’t wanted to feel compassion for her. Filled with hatred and grief, he had seen her as the enemy instead of a great beauty.

“Thor’s blood, Mother,” Wulf muttered. “I did not assault Reyna. I am guilty of selling her but naught more. Are you sure you can’t use another thrall?”

“Since your father’s death, Hagar is the new jarl. He and Olga choose who is to live in the hall and ’tis obvious Olga doesn’t want this woman here. She is increasing and we cannot upset her.” She spread her hands. “There is nothing I can do.”

For the first time in his life, Wulf wished he were the older brother instead of the younger.

Thora looked at Reyna. “What skills do you have? Can you cook? Do you weave? Are you skilled at brewing ale or mead?”

Reyna squared her shoulders. “I cannot cook. Nor can I weave or brew ale or mead. I am a skilled healer and knowledgeable in herbal medicines.”

“At least that’s a skill we can use,” Thora said, nodding. “But you must deal with Wulf yourself—I cannot help you.”

Reyna spared Wulf a withering glance. “I do not wish to belong to you, Wulf the Ruthless. Think you I don’t remember the pain and degradation I suffered at your hands? Sagas of your nefarious exploits are sung far and
wide. You are a berserker. Your sword drinks innocent blood.”

Thora threw up her hands. “She is a bold one, Wulf. Punish her, put her to work or sell her. The decision is yours to make. But before you take her to your hall, I will provide her with a garment more fitting to her station. The silk tunic she wears is too good for a thrall.”

Turning, Thora strode away. Reyna folded her arms across her breasts. Her former master had provided her with the white tunic and silver girdle to display her assets while on the auction block. She loved the sensual feel of the silk against her tender skin despite the way it revealed her womanly curves.

“What is my fate to be, Wulf the Ruthless?” Reyna asked, chin jutting in defiance. “Will you ravish me again, sell me or punish me?”

Wulf surprised her by looking directly into her eyes. Their gazes locked, held. What Reyna saw in his eyes stunned her. She had expected an icy flash of hatred, or even lust; not the tiny flame of heat emanating from their frozen depths. Wulf was the first to look away.

“This should do,” Thora said, her voice shattering the sexual tension building between them. She thrust a rough woolen garment at Reyna.

The garment felt coarse and unevenly woven. Reyna knew its rough surface would abrade her fair skin and hoped she could keep her silken tunic to wear beneath it.

Thora dismissed Wulf with a wave of her hand. “I have no more time for your problems, Wulf. I will see you to night at the evening meal.”

Thora turned her back on Wulf’s pleading look. She had left him no choice but to install Reyna in his hall. “Come with me,” he said gruffly.

“If you touch me, I will kill you.”

“Go ahead if you think you can.”

Turning on his heel, Wulf walked away. He walked so fast Reyna had trouble keeping up with him. He led her through the compound to a smaller version of Hagar’s long house and stormed inside. Reyna followed. Her first glance revealed a modest hall richly decorated. Two thralls, a man and a young woman, looked up from their chores as Reyna trailed behind Wulf.

Wulf summoned the thralls and they came to him immediately.

“Uma and Lorne are Normans,” Wulf explained. “Though their native tongue is English, they speak and understand our language well enough. Uma will show you where to change your tunic and assign chores to you.”

Reyna shuddered. “Have you decided to keep me, then?”

“I have decided nothing.” His gaze swept over her, settling on her breasts. “Perhaps,” he mused, “I will make you my bed slave. You seem useless for anything else.”

Reyna drew herself up to her full impressive height. “Hear me, Wulf the Ruthless. Touch me in that way again and you will find a dagger in your heart when you least expect it. I do not make idle threats. My former owner was smart enough to believe me; for your sake I hope you are too.”

Wulf threw back his head and laughed. “Are you, a mere female, threatening me, a Viking warrior? I am called Wulf the Ruthless with good reason.”

“I know that better than anyone.” She drew back her hand as if to strike him. He caught her fist and pulled her against him. The allure of her femininity and her soft body made his cock harden. He released her instantly and stepped away.

“Never raise your hand to me again,” he warned. “Though your family may not have killed my wife, your
people did.” He raked her with a scornful look. “I would take you to my bed if I wanted you, but you do not appeal to me.”

Wulf was lying through his teeth. He hadn’t had a woman in a long time, and bedding Reyna would not prove difficult. Hagar had urged him countless times to buy a bed slave and even advised him to bed Uma, who was both young and attractive. Though Wulf had thought about it, he had yet to act upon Hagar’s suggestion.

Wulf scarcely recalled the days after the raid on Reyna’s farmstead, for he had been mindless with grief, but one thing he did know: He had not raped Reyna. That deed had been accomplished by Rannulf, Olga’s brother. Wulf had a strong suspicion, however, that bedding Reyna would be no hardship for him, despite the fact that she was the enemy.

Reyna breathed a sigh of relief as she was led off by Uma to a curtained cubical, where she was told to don the rough woolen tunic. She prayed her words had discouraged the Viking berserker from bedding her.

Recalling the terrible day Wulf had carried her off, she distinctly remembered his blond hair, clean-shaven chin and iron helmet. He had taken her maidenhead, sold her, and then promptly forgotten her. She would never forgive him.

Reyna removed her silver girdle and prepared to don the rough woolen garment over her silk tunic.

“Remove the silk tunic first,” Uma ordered.

“The rough wool will chafe my skin.”

“You are a slave, and only the master can grant favors. He doesn’t appear inclined to do so. Give me your silk tunic.”

“Admit it, you want it for yourself,” Reyna hissed.

Reyna was too surprised to react as Uma reached out
and ripped the fragile silk garment from her body. Aware that Uma was studying her naked form with pursed lips, Reyna slipped the woolen tunic over her head and belted it with the silver girdle. Then she followed Uma into the hall.

Uma eyed the silver girdle enviously. She pointed to it and demanded, “Give me your girdle. It is too grand for you.”

“No, you cannot have it.”

“Obey me—I am in charge here. Give it to me now or I will tell the master to beat you.”

“Go ahead. I won’t give up my girdle.”

Reyna could tell that Uma was going to be neither friend nor ally. She acted as if she disliked Reyna on sight.

Uma flew into a rage. Grabbing a broom leaning against the wall, she began beating Reyna with the handle. Taller and stronger than the Norman woman, Reyna wrested the broom from Uma’s hands and pushed her to the ground, looming over her like an avenging Valkyrie. Uma began wailing like a banshee, bringing both Lorne and Wulf running to her defense. Wulf tugged the broom from Reyna’s hands and tossed it aside.

Lorne helped Uma to her feet. “What is going on here?” Wulf growled.

“Your new thrall is vicious,” Uma wailed. “She turned on me for no reason.”

Reyna pointed to the remains of the silk tunic Uma still clutched in her hands. “Uma tried to steal my possessions,” she shot back. “She took my silk tunic but I will not give up my girdle. Am I allowed nothing of my own?”

Angry at Reyna, his brother and the world in general, Wulf yanked the girdle from Reyna’s hands. “You belong to me, as does everything you own.”

“I need something to gather the excess material about my waist,” Reyna dared.

“Come with me. Uma, return to your chores.”

Glaring at Reyna, Uma obeyed Wulf without question as he led Reyna to the other end of the hall, where he removed a coil of rope from a cabinet. He measured out a length, cut it with his dagger and handed it to Reyna. “This should serve.” He watched while she tied the rope about her slim waist. Then he turned and disappeared inside a curtained alcove, taking the silver girdle with him.

“Stubborn Viking,” she muttered as he walked away.

Uma appeared before her, holding a broom in her hand. She shoved it at Reyna. “Make yourself useful. The hearth needs sweeping.”

Gritting her teeth, Reyna took the broom and headed to the hearth. Though her stomach was growling hungrily, no one had offered her food. Were they going to starve her? The cauldron bubbling over the hearth on a tripod gave off a delicious aroma, making her mouth water. Spying some crockery bowls, eating utensils and a loaf of bread on a nearby shelf, Reyna decided to help herself.

Setting the broom against the hearth, she cut a generous slice of bread, ladled out a portion of stew from the cauldron and dipped a hunk of bread into it. She dipped and ate with gusto, until Uma spied her and let out a shriek.

“What are you doing?”

“I am eating. I have put nothing in my stomach since yesterday. This is wonderful. You are a good cook, Uma.”

Uma grabbed the bowl and tried to pull it out of Reyna’s hands. “You cannot eat without permission! You must wait for mealtime like the rest of us.”

A tug of war began. At first Reyna refused to relinquish her food, but then she thought better of making
another fuss and released her grip. Unprepared, Uma flew backward. The contents of the boiling hot stew splashed on her bare arm. Uma screamed, bringing Lorne and Wulf running for the second time that day.

Reyna hadn’t wanted to hurt Uma; it had just happened. Now she knelt beside the thrall and picked up her arm to inspect the damage. The girl had suffered a superficial burn, painful but not life threatening unless it festered.

“What’s happened now?” Wulf demanded as he helped Uma onto a bench.

Before Reyna could answer, Uma wailed, “The witch threw hot stew at me. She wanted to kill me. Sell her, master, before she kills us all.”

“I did no such thing,” Reyna scoffed. “I was famished and merely helped myself to the stew simmering over the hearth. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday and no one thought to ask if I was hungry.”

She paused, glaring up at Wulf. “Uma tried to tug the bowl out of my hands. I didn’t want to cause trouble so I released my hold. The stew was hot. What you see is the result of Uma’s clumsiness.”

“Is that true, Uma?” Wulf asked.

“No,” Uma denied tearfully, “the witch lies. She threw the bowl of stew at me.”

Wulf turned to Lorne. “Did you see what happened, Lorne?”

Lorne hung his head, stammered a bit and then said, “Reyna lies. It happened just as Uma said.”

“I do not lie!” Reyna vehemently protested. “Your thralls do not like me.”

Wulf sent her a heated look. “We’ll settle this later. First I must determine how badly Uma is hurt.”

Reyna grasped Uma’s arm and inspected the burn.

“The burn is not serious, Wulf the Ruthless. Fetch your medicinal chest.”

“Lorne, go to my brother’s hall and fetch the medicinal chest.” The young thrall took off. To Reyna, he said, “Can you treat the burn?”

“Aye, it will be fine. I hope your mother keeps the chest well stocked.”

Wulf sighed. “My aunt was the healer in the family. She died in the raid along with my wife. My mother isn’t much of a healer so I cannot attest to the contents of the chest.”

Lorne returned with the medicinal chest and placed it on the bench beside Uma. Reyna opened it and frowned. The herbal preparations inside were not as adequate as she had hoped. Searching among the neatly labeled jars and vials, she found the preparation she was looking for, opened it and sniffed the contents.

“Is something wrong?” Wulf asked.

“This salve will do, though it is not fresh.” Cradling Uma’s arm, she began slathering a thick coating of salve over the burn.

Apparently Uma didn’t appreciate Reyna’s efforts. “She is trying to kill me. Stop her, master.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Reyna?” Wulf asked.

Reyna sent him an affronted look. “I am a healer. Of course I know what I am doing. Tomorrow I will search the forest and hillsides for fresh herbs and roots.”

“You do not have that freedom unless I give it to you,” Wulf growled.

Reyna finished bandaging Uma’s arm with clean linen cloths she found in the chest and slammed down the lid. Turning, she glared at Wulf. “If you wish for me to be useful, then let me do what I do best.”

The fire in Wulf’s eyes melted the ice as he pulled her aside and growled in a low voice, “I am beginning to believe that what you do best should take place in my bed.”

Reyna stared up at him with huge green eyes slightly slanted up at the corners. Her mouth was beautiful, Wulf noted, her lips full and lush. A man could lose himself kissing that mouth.

His head lowered. But before he could complete the act his body demanded, Reyna pulled away. “No!” she cried. “Never again will you touch me with lust!”

Stunned by what he had nearly done, he glowered at Reyna. “Do not try to seduce me, wench.” Spinning on his heel, he stalked off.

Shaking, Reyna sank down on a bench, her heart pounding erratically. Had Wulf been about to kiss her or had she imagined it? Wulf was many things, magnificent, raw, primitive, ruthless, angry and exciting in ways that frightened her. But above all he was a Norseman, a man she must now call master, a man she hated for what he had done to her and her family.

“You shouldn’t have angered him,” Lorne warned.

Reyna turned to look at the thrall, anger simmering in her veins. “Why did you lie when you knew what happened wasn’t my fault?”

Lorne shuffled his feet, as if too embarrassed to answer. Finally he said, “I feared the master would punish Uma if I told the truth.”

“But it was all right if he punished me?”

“You do not understand. Uma and I are Normans. We come from the same village in En gland. We were taken in a raid by Wulf’s father three summers ago, brought to this godforsaken land and given to Wulf the Ruthless as a wedding gift. I try to protect Uma from her own follies for I care deeply about her.”

“I do not need your protection,” Uma shot back. “My arm hurts,” she whined.

Uma seemed to do a lot of whining, Reyna decided.
But if she was going to work with these people, they needed to be friends, allies, even.

“Since we are all in the same situation,” Reyna began, “we should not be fighting one another. Why can we not be friends?”

“I have been doing the master’s bidding for three years and not once has he looked at me the way he looks at you,” Uma complained. “Why should I be friends with you when I do not like you?”

Stunned, Reyna asked, “Are you jealous, Uma? You have no reason to be. Wulf hates me and I despise him. My people killed his wife and he…he…” She stopped in midsentence, unable to say the words.

“I think we
should
become allies,” Lorne agreed. “We are foreigners in this land of the Norsemen. They are vicious warriors, though at times they surprise me with their knowledge of farming and success at trading.”

“You can trust Reyna if you wish, Lorne. You aren’t the injured party. I am in great pain because of her.”

Though Reyna didn’t like Uma any better than Uma liked her, she couldn’t bear to see her suffer. She returned to the medicinal chest and found some dried leaves in a little pouch.

“I will brew some marigold tea for you, Uma. It will relieve your pain.”

Uma recoiled in alarm. “How do I know you won’t poison me?”

Reyna drew herself up to her nearly six foot height. “I am a healer. My oath to heal was not taken lightly. Do you wish me to help you or not?”

“Go away,” Uma sobbed. “Wulf chose you over me. We will never be friends and I refuse to accept anything from you, including comfort.”

Shrugging, Reyna moved off. She was still hungry and
there was food in the cauldron. Once again she ladled out a generous portion of the stew into a bowl, cut another slab of bread and sat down to eat. A short while later Lorne joined her.

“You must forgive Uma,” Lorne said as he ladled stew into two bowls, one for him and one for Uma. “Her lot in life has not been easy. She was snatched from her homeland at a young age and forced into slavery. Give her time—she will come around.”

“Her story is no different from mine,” Reyna huffed. “I suffered as well. I think Uma has feelings for Wulf.”

Lorne considered Reyna’s comment a long time before answering. “Uma wants to better her life. The master has no wife or concubine. Uma hopes to catch his eye.”

“I wish her luck,” Reyna said truthfully. “I have no interest in Wulf the Ruthless. If the opportunity arises, I will escape.”

Lorne gave a snort of disbelief. “You are naïve if you think you can find your way back to your homeland. We are slaves, Reyna the Dane, and slaves we shall remain.”

So saying, he carried the bowls of stew to Uma, offered her one and sat down beside her to eat his.

Reyna turned away. Was Lorne right? Was she doomed to a life of slavery forever? It might take a while, but Reyna truly believed that her brothers and betrothed, if they were alive, would eventually track her down and rescue her. She could not serve the man who had defiled her.

Wulf stalked through the compound toward his brother’s hall. He couldn’t believe how close he had come to kissing Reyna. How could that happen when the very sight of a Dane in his household brought back painful memories?
He still blamed himself for leaving the farmstead the summer invaders had struck. He should have been home protecting his wife and unborn child when she was so close to her time instead of going off a-Viking.

Wulf deliberately composed his features before opening the door and entering Hagar’s hall. It wouldn’t do for his family to suspect how thoroughly Reyna had turned his life upside down in the short space of one day.

“Come join us, Wulf,” Hagar invited. “We have been waiting for you to partake of the evening meal with us.”

Wulf glanced at the family members seated around the long table. Hagar sat at one end and his mother at the other. Olga sat at Hagar’s right and Olaf, his younger brother, next to her. Eric, his youngest brother, sat beside Olaf. Across from them were his younger sisters Inga and Helga, two blond beauties on the brink of womanhood. Wulf took his place next to Helga.

Immediately thralls began placing platters of food on the table. A pig had been butchered in honor of Hagar’s return and the hall was redolent with delicious odors. There were fish, mashed turnips, green vegetables, curd cheese and fresh bread and butter to complement the roasted pig. Ale was served to the adults, with buttermilk available for the younger members of the family. People ate well at the table of Hagar the Red.

Lost in thought, Wulf consumed his food with gusto, ignoring the table talk until Hagar addressed him by name. “Is your new thrall adjusting, Wulf? Is all well in your hall?”

Wulf glared at Hagar, aware that he was being goaded. His brother’s perverse sense of humor annoyed him. “Reyna has disrupted my household, if you must know. There has already been an altercation between her and Uma that resulted in an injury.”

“What happened?” Thora asked.

“I am not sure. According to Uma, Reyna dumped a bowl of hot stew on her.”

“Ah, so that’s why Lorne asked for my medicinal chest. As you well know, I’m not a healer and am glad for Reyna’s assistance. I hope she found what she needed to treat Uma’s burn.”

“Reyna did not seem impressed by what she found,” Wulf admitted. “She wants to roam about to search for fresh herbs and roots to supplement your supply.”

“Do you believe she is a healer?” Hagar asked. “Perhaps she is merely looking for a means of escape.”

Wulf thought a moment before replying. “I believe she does know about healing. But it appears that is all she is good for.”

Hagar sent him a mischievous grin. “I doubt that’s
all
she is good for. She told Mother that you ravished her during a raid.”

Wulf bent his sisters a fierce scowl when they began to giggle, and an even fiercer one at Hager. Then he glanced at Olga, wondering if telling the truth about her brother’s actions would upset her? He decided it might and chose to dissemble. “Do not believe everything Reyna says.”

“Tell me more about your new thrall,” Hagar goaded. “I find it a rather amusing coincidence that you two had already met. I had no idea who she was when I bought her. My own experience with her is that she has a nasty temper. Have you beaten her yet?”

“No, though Uma advised it. I decided to let Reyna come to terms with her situation before inflicting punish ment.”

“If you cannot tame her, Wulf,” Olaf said, “perhaps you will let me try.” At twenty, Olaf perched on the cusp of manhood and had been feeling his oats of late. He had gone a-Viking with Hagar for the first time this summer.

Hagar laughed raucously. “From what I hear, brother, you have half the girls in the village vying for your attention.”

“But Reyna is…experienced, Hagar. Taming her would enhance my reputation.”

“You would do well to spend less time thinking about your next conquest, and more practicing with sword and axe to prepare yourself for next summer’s voyage.”

“Enough of that kind of talk,” Thora admonished in a stern voice.

The conversation turned in another direction, allowing Wulf’s mind to wander. He thought about the simple stew his thralls were eating compared to the abundance of food served in the main hall. Hagar’s thralls enjoyed a better board than he provided in his own hall. Reyna was a jarl’s daughter and doubtless accustomed to richer fare than he provided.

Wulf told himself that Reyna was a slave and should not expect the same comforts family members enjoyed. Besides, she was the enemy. Unfortunately it was difficult to remember her lowly position in his hall when every time he looked at her he saw a great beauty of queenly proportions who acted nothing like a thrall. Proud, defiant, lovely beyond comparison, shapely: those were the words he’d use to describe her. There was nothing meek or submissive in her manner. And she blamed him for an act not of his doing.

Once Wulf had eaten his fill, he pushed his plate aside and prepared to leave. Thora sent him a speculative glance. “Will you allow Reyna out of your sight long enough to gather herbs and roots, son? The woods are dangerous, but we do need a skilled healer on the farmstead. I would be happy for her to take over that chore.”

“Perhaps you should go with her, Wulf,” Hagar suggested.
“I paid dearly for her; I’d hate to see her attacked by a wolf or bear. You need to protect your property.”

Wulf knew Hagar was baiting him. “When I find the time, I will take her into the woods so she can gather what she needs.” He stood. “Now I bid you good night.” He kissed his mother’s cheek and made a hasty exit.

“What do you think?” Hagar asked no one in particular once Wulf had left. “Did Wulf take Reyna’s innocence as she claims? More importantly, will my dour brother fall victim to his new thrall’s charms?”

Everyone seemed to have a different opinion. But the consensus was that Wulf wasn’t as unaffected by the lovely Dane as he pretended.

Wulf approached his hall with trepidation. He had no idea what he would find when he returned and hoped it wouldn’t be trouble. It had been a long time since he had found the need to beat a thrall and he wasn’t in the mood to do so now. Since Reyna was the cause of dissension in his hall, perhaps he should take her to the nearby trading port of Kaupang and sell her. He frowned. Rannulf would probably be the first in line to bid for her and that didn’t sit well with him.

Wulf opened the door and stepped inside. The hall was dark but for the dying fire in the central hearth. A quick look around revealed two distinct shapes sleeping on nearby benches, rolled up in the wolf pelts he had provided. There was no sign of a third person. He knew intuitively that the missing thrall was Reyna. Where in Odin’s name was she?

A swift inspection of the sleeping alcoves proved fruitless. Reyna was not in the hall. He even searched the privy, a separate attachment to the long house. Growing angrier by the minute, Wulf was in a rage by the time he stormed from the hall to search the yard and
outbuildings. If Reyna had wandered into the woods, she wouldn’t stand a chance against wild animals.

Wulf had no idea where to start looking for his missing thrall. He’d never find her in the woods in the dark. And since she didn’t know about the hot volcanic pool located a short distance behind the long house, she couldn’t have gone there. Nor would she know where to find the steam hut, used regularly by the family.

Spitting out a curse, Wulf was too keyed up to return to his hall and decided to take advantage of the full moon and walk down to the fjord. He could use a cold swim. Erotic thoughts of the blonde beauty had caused his body to overheat and his loins to swell. He definitely needed to go to the village soon and find a willing woman. Perhaps he should buy a concubine to fulfill his needs, or accept Uma’s blatant invitation to bed her. It was certainly something to consider.

When Wulf arrived at the fjord, the sight that met his eyes stole the breath from his lungs.
He had found Reyna.
She rose naked from the surf, a goddess crowned with silvery hair that brushed her hips. The ethereal vision enthralled him.

Moonlight painted her naked body with gold as she walked from the water. Her breasts were round, firm, and tipped with prominent nipples. Her legs were long and shapely, her waist tiny, her hips gently curved. He wondered how those limbs would feel wrapped around his waist. The pale gold fleece on her woman’s mound was thick and luxurious. Wulf found it difficult to hate so glorious a creature.

Mesmerized, he stared at her, unable to speak or move. Then, as if the devil was nipping at her heels, she snatched up her tunic and started running. Gathering his wits, Wulf stepped into her path, filling his arms with satiny smooth woman’s flesh.

“Reyna, what is it? Has something frightened you?”

Reyna gasped, her arms momentarily clinging to him as she fought for breath. “Wulf…I saw…”

Sweet Freya, he could scarcely think with her naked curves molded against him. “What did you see?” His hands slid down to cup her round bottom.

Reyna appeared too frightened to note where his hands had drifted. “Sails!” she cried. “I saw sails in the fjord, where it curves to the left. Ships approaching at night always mean trouble.”

It took a moment for Reyna’s words to sink in, but when they did, he glanced over her shoulder. “You have a vivid imagination. There are no sails in the fjord.”

“They were there a few moments ago.”

“What you saw were dragonships returning home after a long voyage.”

“Why would they sail into this fjord?”

He looked down at her. “They could be tying up for the night near the village. I’m sure there is naught to worry about.”

As if suddenly recalling she was naked, she shrugged out of his arms and struggled into her tunic. Wulf watched her closely, suddenly aware of the angry red rash blooming on her skin. He grabbed her arm, inspecting it closely.

“What is that?”

“What do you mean?”