Her Anchor (145 page)

“But you already have a child, and a wife.” Throck’s face dropped and he turned. He headed back towards the bed where spoke again.

“Child yes, a young daughter. But no wife.” He sat on the bed and finished his mug of wine, placing it on the ground. “She died in childbirth, so she never granted me a son.” He pointed at Mary again. “Then the gods brought me you. You are the answer to my prayers.” Mary felt herself blush slightly and took a sip of wine before she responded.

“But I’ve never been away from home, my village.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Let alone England.” Throck nodded, smiled, and looked around the room, taking it all in again. He stood up and crossed the floor to her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead and cheeks.

“This is no longer your home. Your home is with me now.”

****

The trip back to Throck’s home was one that was fraught with trials for Mary. Throck’s men needed reassurance that Mary wouldn’t pose a problem during their trip. They seemed to fear that she would cause Throck or the other men to become distracted from the job at hand, plus they were unsure about the weight of all their loot.

Throck however felt that he needed the promise from all his men that no one, regardless of rank, prestige in combat, or drink, would touch her during the trip. Mary sat in silence while this was discussed, as she did not believe that she held a vote in the matter. Throck had told her that she was coming with them and she trusted him. So, after promises were made, they began their long journey home.

Mary had never spent this long on a ship, let alone a Viking long ship, which had no cover or protection from the sun during the day or the cold during the night. Her only experience with ships had been small fishing boats in a nearby lake, something that she told Throck once they taken off.

Throck did his best to protect her from as much as possible, but she found that there wasn’t much that either of them could do. With the ships riding so low among the waves, she found that there was no respite from the salt water or Mother Nature. So, Mary suffered through the trip, only succumbing to seasickness once, much to the entertainment of the crew.

Mary still couldn’t understand their language, but she was very well versed in inflection, having grown up with a father who often didn’t say what he was truly feeling at the time. She learned over time that she needed to infer meanings out of empty phrases. However, over the trip, she did her best to pick up on key phrases or words.

Two weeks passed before they arrived back on the Icelandic coast, much to the pleasure of the people there that had been praying to the gods for their safe return. Mary herself had prayed, but she prayed to her Christian god, something that had frightened the men. They believed that she would anger their gods, so she was forced to do it in silence.

As their ships pulled into the harbor of their home, there were wives and children who were standing on the dock, awaiting their return, as well as the older generation of men who were too old or frail to come with them. The men on the ship stopped rowing long enough to stand and wave, finding their loved ones amongst the crowd.

Mary noticed that Throck too stood up and waved at a little girl who stood with a few other children, most likely the children of people just like her. Children who had lost a parent, whether it be from childbirth or warfare. Mary noted how beautiful the girl was, her hair shone even brighter than Throck’s and she wore the same intense expression that he did.

Mary sat by patiently though trying not to draw attention to herself. Throck leaned down as they began to dock and whispered to her about what she needed to do.

“Stay with the loot until after we meet with the Jarl. He will make the final decision on everything.” Mary was confused by this statement and didn’t fully understand, but before she could ask for clarification. Throck had promised that she would live with him, but he and the rest of the men were jumping off the boat onto the dock. Mary went to speak, but held her tongue.

A few minutes passed while the men hugged and kissed their family members, the men squatted down and slipped their children gifts they had snuck away from the main hold. The crowd slowly dissipated as the families returned to their homes, just happy to see their fathers and husbands returned. The men returned to the ship and began to offload all of the gold, wine, and food they have taken during their raids. As they loaded nearby wagons and carts, Throck stepped forward and helped Mary off of the boat. He once again told her to stay back with the gold and other things while he spoke with the Jarl. He walked her towards a cart and lifted her into it.

Throck slowly backed away from her and winked. With that, they began their ascent to the Great Hall.

****

The Great Hall was one of the most ornate structures that Mary had ever witnessed in her life. The large wooden beams that supported the building were literal tree trunks and the thatched roof spanned the entire building. She had seen builders and architects use thatching for roofs before, but never to this size or scale.

The hall also had a number of fireplaces that lined the hall, filling it with smoke slightly, but keeping it a comfortable temperature, as opposed to the blistering cold of outside.

Long tables, clearly cut out of the local trees sat, lined with plates, cups, and pitchers, ran the entire length of the room. Stools and chairs were placed haphazardly throughout as well. Each piece of silverware that she saw on the table appeared to be different, all mismatched from various raids that they had made. She was amazed by the difference in all of them, from simple clay to ornate pieces of gold and silver. These men must have been nearly everywhere.

One of the men that was following behind the carts reached up past Mary and removed a pewter mug from a bag that was overflowing with various pieces of home goods that they had taken from her village. He then stopped off at one of the tables and tested the pitchers until he found one that was full. He sniffed it apprehensively and poured himself a glass, taking a swig. With pitcher and glass in hand he followed after the group.

The carts stopped and Mary turned to see the Jarl. He was an older man, nearly in his seventies by the greying of his hair. He was a frail man, tall, with long wispy hair being held out of his face by an incredibly ornate golden crown. His fingers were all boney with the skin loose, but they each wore a finely jeweled ring. From that distance she knew that she saw rubies and sapphires at least. His shoulders were draped in animal skin, and two women, both much younger than him, sat on each side of him, their breasts exposed.

As the convoy of warriors and loot stopped to a halt, Mary watched Throck continue to walk forward until he stood at the feet of the Jarl. Even though the Jarl clearly held a more prestigious rank than Throck, he did not seem to let it affect his demeanor. He still stood with the same intense look on his face, although he was daring the Jarl to test him. And he did, as it was the Jarl who spoke first.

“Throck, son of Ragnar, you have returned.” The Jarl looked passed him and looked at the carts full of gold. “And you return successful,” He said with a childish glee in his voice. The Jarl stood up and pushed by Throck, towards the cart full of the treasure. He opened a bag in the first cart and gold coins spilled out onto the floor. The Jarl turned toward Throck with a smile on his face. “The gods clearly smiled upon you and your men on this raid.”

The men around the room all chuckled and nodded with appreciation. Throck though stood in silence, awaiting his next words. “The Jarl, and the gods, are pleased. You may all go.” The men began to murmur to themselves, unsure of why they were not allowed to keep anything for themselves. The man who was drinking wine finished the contents and tucked the cup inside his pack. He wanted something for his troubles, even if it was a plain cup. That is when Throck spoke up.

“Knowledgeable Jarl, surely you would want your men happy, especially after such a successful raid. Allow them to each pick one piece of treasure for risking their lives for you and your people.” The Jarl spun around and looked at Throck. The other men around the room grumbled their approval, but no one wanted to speak against the Jarl for fear of retribution.

“These men knew the risk. They wanted the chance to die in battle for their eternity at Valhalla. That was their reward for going on the mission.” Some men nodded, while others seemed even more frustrated than before. Throck rose his hand slightly and Mary watched as the men quieted. He seemed to have even more power than the Jarl, and yet he didn’t abuse it, as the Jarl obviously did.

“We knew the risks, but as in death we would have been rewarded, so to in life we should be rewarded.” The Jarl thought for a long moment and nodded slowly, waving his hand dismissively.

“Alright, Throck. You may each take a prize.” The men cheered and began to tear at the carts, searching for the trinkets they wanted the most. Throck however, strode down and helped Mary jump off the back off the cart. The Jarl watched this and began screaming at the top of his lungs. “Throck, son of Ragnar, you’re a liar and a cheat, just like the man before you!”

Throck placed his hand on the small of Mary’s back once again and began to rush her along, out of the hall and into the fresh air of the market.

****

Throck led Mary out into the market and were followed out by a screaming Jarl. Throck continued unfazed and as they walked through town. Throck pointed out different key buildings or people that she would eventually come to know. He pointed out the different stalls that sold fruits and vegetables, and the temple to the various gods. He also pointed out the wives of the men that she had met while on the boat.

Mary felt herself getting overwhelmed though and Throck noticed her change in demeanor, so he led her towards a small structure near the waterfront. It was a homely wooden hut, with a thatched roof very similar to the other homes in the area. However, unlike the other homes, it had a small garden in the back, surrounded by a fence of wooden planks.

As they neared it, Mary noticed that there was a little girl no older than five or six who was standing in the garden, picking vegetables and watering various things. Throck ran up to her and picked her up, swinging her over the fence and up into his arms so she was sitting on his hip. He held her in his arms and whispered something into her ear, the girl smiled and it was the most beautiful smile Mary had ever seen. Mary slowly walked up, and Throck whispered something else.

The little girl then jumped down and ran over to Mary, who stood quietly. The little girl held out her hand, and in her hand was a small necklace. There was a celtic knot carved into a piece of driftwood on the end of the twine. She held it out, and Mary reached forward taking it. The girl spoke to her in their language as she did all of this, and Throck translated for Mary.

“She had a dream that a strange woman would come and enter her life. She was beautiful and sweet in the dream, so she wanted to make her something just as pretty. However, you are even more beautiful in person.” Mary blushed and placed the necklace on over her head. The girl smiled and ran back to her father. She asked him a question and he replied affirmatively. The little girl then turned and waved at Mary and ran off towards the center of town.

Throck took a few steps forward towards Mary and kissed her passionately. Mary swooned and felt her legs grow weak once again.

“We’ll explore the town more, but for now, let me show you those animal skins I was talking about.”

****

In the matter of minutes, Mary found herself naked on her back yet again. This time though she was blanketed among the animal pelts of wolves, bears, and deer. Their soft, bristly fur padded her back and gave her a better grip to hold onto as she was yet again wrapped in a passionate moment with Throck.

Throck’s face was down between her legs, tonguing and kissing her pussy. Her legs were thrown over his shoulders and she reached down with a hand and rubbed his head as he ate her out. Her fingers grabbed at the braid and she pressed him harder into her. His tongue and lips toyed and played with her until she was moaning and gasping for air.

The stubble that had formed on their long trip was a new and unique feeling for her, the small bristles on his face tickled and teased her thighs, which she could feel rippling with ecstasy. He raised his hands up to her pussy and inserted his fingers as he had done before, but this time, his tongue stayed and flicked her clit while his fingers deftly rubbed and played with her G spot.

Her head fell back into the pillows and she felt as if her soul was leaving her body as she writhed on the bed, moaning and gasping his name. He was relentless though and goosebumps cascaded over her body in waves with each flick of the tongue or twist of the finger. He slowed down after a few minutes and slipped out from beneath her legs. He raised up and kissed her, her saliva mixing with her own cum. She enjoyed the taste and watched as Throck rolled over onto his back.