Viking's Love (13 page)

“
I have heard all I ever wish to from
you, Merta. You’ll not force my hand to wed you. You came to my bed
without marriage between us, knowing all from the first. Garran
will not take a slight here.”

“
How dare you toss me aside for that
English bitch?”

“
I made you no promises, Merta,” Joran
said in a cold tone. “The girl has no part in this. She is my
slave, nothing more. She brings me a hefty ransom come spring. You
would do well to remove your things from my rooms this night and
make your bed elsewhere.”

Merta looked outraged. “You would toss me out
of your bed after you get what you want, Joran?”

“
Did you give me any more consideration
when you went to young Terek under my nose, Merta?”

The woman flushed under his knowing look, a
look of surprise he knew of her wandering in his absence. “I am
Chieftain here, Merta. There is not much that gets past my notice.
Your movements among my men are only one of the many reasons I send
you home.”

“
Lies! All lies! Who dares to say such
a thing?” Merta fumed under his amused regard.

“
Terek came to me to confess his guilt
before I left for Lockwraithe, Merta,” Joran said and shook his
head. “At least one of you has honor not to lie of it. He is only
one of my men you have gone to these last moons. Do not play act
you have some fondness for me. It is only because I am a Chieftain
you are even here, and we both know it.”

Merta glared at him. “You think you can just
set me aside? My brother will speak for me at the tribunal at the
next gathering!”

“
That is your right. It would serve you
better to find a husband among your brother’s men while you still
can.”

Merta looked enraged by his suggestion, her
pale green eyes filled with fury. “You will regret putting me out
the door in favor of some English bitch, Joran!”

“
My regret is to have not done it
sooner,” Joran allowed with a mocking grin. “Collect your things. I
want no scene when the girl moves into my chamber.”

Her eyes glowed with anger as he left the
room, her outraged cries silenced as he slammed the door behind him
and returned below. Joran was further incensed to discover his men
were regaling his people below with stories of Allisande’s fighting
Hakon. He silenced Grogan while he was in the middle of his tale
with a sour look.

Joran sat and soon several women appeared
with wooden tankards and pitchers of ale were set out. He drank
moodily as he listened to his people’s happy chatter, his thoughts
on the violet-eyed beauty who was sitting in the cell below. He had
no place to put her for the time being, and locking her up was as
much for her own safety as for others.

Merta came down the stairs in a fresh gown,
her damp locks a reminder of her humiliation as she passed several
giggling women. She glared at them as she came to sit near Joran,
her green eyes downcast.

Joran gazed down at her without expression.
She seemed to hang onto his every word as they recounted the
journey to Lockwraithe and the ensuing battle. Her green eyes
looked alert when he mentioned the dark-haired slave was the former
Baron Lockwraithe’s daughter.

“
She is to be ransomed?”Merta digested
the news with obvious pleasure. Joran glowered at her and nodded
curtly, drinking his ale and ignoring any further questions. The
food was soon brought out, and the feasting began. There was much
revelry within his hall. He sat contented as he tossed a scrap of
meat to the large wolf lying near his feet. The large silver head
moved with lightening speed and snatched the piece of pork before
it hit the planks.

Joran reached down and petted the thick soft
fur of his pet lovingly. The wolf was panting and clearly enjoying
his master’s attentions. Thor’s brown eyes met his adoringly. He
smiled as he stroked his head.

Thor was caught in a snare as a pup when
Joran found him. He worried the paw would have to be cut off, but
it healed and he tamed the Nordic wolf. The wolf prowled the hall
freely. All his people catered to the animal. He was quite spoiled
and cosseted.

Grogan gave up the dice game he played near
the hearth and drew near and refilled his tankard. He eyed him
worriedly as the merriment drowned out their words. “Wulfstan has
made threats, Joran,” Grogan whispered low, wanting no one to hear
him. “He killed several sheep before our arrival on his way to
Garran Herricksson’s stronghold. His men were seen down the fjord
later by Ewles. I think you may have to kill the man before it is
all over. Next he will prey on the women or children to get to
you.”

“
He would not dare!” Joran said darkly,
scowling into his tankard. “Wulfstan does it to save face because
Ivar sided with me. He will get over Danik’s demise. It is the way
of war! The wench was defending herself! Would Janna do any less if
she and the children were threatened?”

“
You are right, but Wulfstan does not
use logic,” Grogan mused. “I cannot see my tiny bit of a wife
defending herself as efficiently as Lockwraithe’s daughter. What
will you do with the wench until spring? You can hardly keep her
locked up until then?”

“
She must learn her place and mind her
tongue before I will tolerate another episode of what you saw
today.”

“
I don’t envy you. Merta won’t like the
girl being underfoot.”

“
Merta goes home before the end of the
week.”

Grogan looked surprised but wisely said
nothing.

“
Merta will seek to cause mischief,
Grogan. She is jealous of the girl, and I cannot keep an eye on her
all the time.”

Grogan nodded and smiled as Janna drew near.
The tiny blonde slid onto his lap and eyed the pair of them with a
smile. She was inquisitive about the slave they captured on the
raid. Everyone in the hall was whispering about Allisande of
Lockwraithe. Many of them enjoyed seeing her send Merta toppling
into the fjord.

“
She is to be ransomed in the spring,
Janna.” Joran smiled indulgently at her hopeful look. “We cannot
keep her like a puppy. As much as you enjoyed seeing her usurp
Merta this afternoon; she must be returned to her brother in the
spring. Her ransom in silver will see us through the next five
winters, I predict.”

“
You are thinking too far ahead, Joran.
What if he doesn’t want her back?” Both men looked perplexed at her
pointed words. “You recall Ivar taking that English lady on a raid
some years back? Her family abandoned her rather than part with
their gold. Now he pawns her off on his brother, Ubbe. The English
don’t value their women as much as you think. They value money and
property.”

“
You talk too much, I think.” She
giggled and danced away from Grogan before he could swat her
backside. He met Joran’s look of discomfort at his wife’s words and
shrugged dismissively. “Collin of Lockwraithe has little choice but
to get the wench back. His home is destroyed and his father’s
riches are gone. I predict he seeks to marry her off to a rich
noble to secure his wealth. Do not look so worried. You aren’t
stuck with the Englishwoman.”

“
I don’t worry, Grogan. The girl is of
little importance to me,” Joran snapped, but in truth, Janna’s
words reminded him not to count on his ransom. Collin may spurn his
sister yet. Worse, he would have to pay Wulfstan’s tribute for
Danik’s death out of his own coffers. The price would be high and
set him back considerably without the ransom. He finished his ale
and rose.

Joran approached the women and they made up a
plate of food for his captive. He noticed Merta watching his
progress down to the cell below. Her look clearly said any of his
thralls could have fed the girl.

He closed the door behind him and went below
to see how Allisande faired. He lit the candle and noticed she
slept on the pallet curled into a ball, the dark curtain of her
hair obscuring her face from his view. It was drafty down in the
cellar. He made a note to have blankets brought down to her. He
called out to her. After several moments she roused. She sat up on
the pallet to regard him warily.

Joran unbarred the door and went inside. He
set the bowl upon the floor along with the pitcher of water and
empty tankard. He approached her and removed a knife from a
scabbard at his waist. Her eyes met his. He saw fear in them for a
moment before she held out her wrists for him to cut her
bindings.

“
You will sleep here until I figure out
where to put you where you will not be able to cause any harm,”
Joran said as she bent and accepted the food, eyeing him as if he
was a repulsive insect. “You will work with the women in the
kitchens. Make no mistake; you are a slave here.”

“
How could I forget when you seem so
fond of reminding me, Viking scum?” Allisande set down the bowl and
looked up at him with loathing. “Was there something else you
wished to say?”

“
You will address me as, Master!” Joran
bore down on her menacingly, his blue eyes snapping at her renewed
use of insults in addressing him. “You dare open your mouth and
speak to me in such a manner in front of my people, and they will
expect you to be whipped for your insolence. Heed me well,
Allisande, for you will be here until spring when your brother
arranges your ransom. Keep your mouth shut, and do as you are bid,
and you will be freed unscathed. Continue as you are, and you will
regret it.” She nibbled at a piece of pork thoughtfully as she
mulled over his words, obviously ignoring them.

“
Thank you for your advice. I shall be
a good slave. Was there anything else, Master?”This last was said
with obvious contempt. Joran shook his head, running a hand through
his golden locks in frustration.

“
You will not be happy until you are
whipped, girl!” Joran threw up his hands and eyed her in disgust.
“Have it your way. Do not say I did not warn you!”

“
Do not say I did not warn you as well,
Viking,” Allisande said coldly as he turned to leave her cell. “You
will regret bringing me here! I warned you I would not be owned by
you!”

“
I already regret it!” Joran stomped
above to the hall. He was scowling so darkly the older serf he
approached quailed away from him. He smiled patiently and asked she
take blankets down to the captive. The older woman looked relieved
and nodded. Merta smiled a feline smile as she approached
him.

“
I am not gone from here yet, Joran.”
Merta rubbed his arm as her green eyes met his in invitation. “I
see no need to leave your room until then.”

Joran met her knowing gaze with a
dispassionate stare before he grabbed her by the arm and nearly
dragged her above to his rooms.

Later, he lay staring at the ceiling while
Merta lay sleeping nude against his chest, frustrated by his lack
of desire for her. He should be sated after their earlier
encounter. He still throbbed unsatisfied from their joining. He
frowned when he recalled how in the height of passion, he thought
of his beautiful captive writhing beneath him.

Joran’s lips tightened in displeasure as he
recalled her threats when he left her cell earlier. He refrained
from striking her, but the girl was making it more than difficult
with her provoking manner.

Allisande intruded upon his bed furs with
another beneath him. It wasn’t the redhead he saw when he looked
down, but the raven-haired woman with her forked tongue and
captivating eyes.

Joran realized dismally he had no guarantee
Collin Osgood would even want his sister back, as Janna said. He
smiled without humor to think of her remaining his slave. Her anger
when he informed her of her added duties once Merta left made him
restless with anticipation.

Allisande would not be pleased to learn she
would be his new bed thrall. The girl was proud. The humbling
aspects of her new duties made him question his motives in regard
to her. Was he punishing the girl because of who her sire was?

Allisande could do nothing. As she was a
slave, any of his men could enjoy her favors. She realized nothing
at all, used to being a lady of the manor. Her lowly status gave
him complete control over her. He had no choice but to make her his
or she’d be at the mercy of his randy men.

Thoughts of forcing the woman to his bed
didn’t appeal to him. The feel of her hesitant response to him
aboard his ship encouraged him to think he could bring her to his
furs without force. He anticipated the lusty bed sport would be
worth the claw marks upon his back. He knew she would hardly
appreciate his use of her. He rolled to his side leaving Merta to
lie alone, and closed his eyes, visions of his captive beauty
lulling him to his dreams.

****

Allisande was awakened near dawn by the old
woman who brought her blankets the night before. The woman
approached her hesitantly. She introduced herself as Elwynn. She
followed her upstairs. Allisande was eager to be out of the
cell.

The hall was vacant except for the few slaves
who worked to clean the hall after the meal the night before.
Allisande gave a gasp when she saw the great, silver wolf lounging
in front of the fire and drew up short, eyes wide with fright.
Elwynn smiled and shook her head.

“
Do not be afraid, Allisande,” Elwynn
explained with a gentle smile, seeing the girl’s terror. “He is
called Thor. He is our Chieftain’s pet. He is tame. You needn’t pay
him any mind.”

Despite her reassurances, Allisande kept a
watchful eye on the animal as she followed Elwynn into the
kitchens. She had a great fear of wolves, thinking of the vicious
pack that plagued them near Lockwraithe.