Ruthless (31 page)

She was brazen tonight, for she took his
wrists and tried to shove his hands aside. He decided to let her
have her way. What would it hurt to let her have control on this
last night? His throat ached at the thought.

She rose up and took his cock...no, 'twas
strange she
grabbed
his cock, near hurting him...and held
it upright to settle down onto him. When she firmly seated herself
and began to rock, she leaned forward. Her hair brushed his cheek,
tickling his nose. He went to swat it away, and when he did, a
different scent floated from it. No lingering aroma of apple?

He grabbed a handful of hair. He sniffed.
Loudly.

Roses?

He grabbed the woman's shoulders and tried to
unseat her. She held on, fighting back, grinding against him. The
damned woman tried to force him to spill his seed!

He heaved up, toppling her off the end of the
bed.

"You fool!" She shrieked then jumped up.

He was as sober as if someone had emptied a
bucket of snow on him. Before she got halfway to the door, he
dragged her back by her hair. Finding a lighting stick on the
mantel, he held it to the hot embers then lit the candle on the
table.

The woman he held was the blond bitch who
could always coax life into his cock, even when he was near
death.

But no more.

His member cringed and fell limp.
Disappointed. He felt sorry for his cock and patted the dejected
thing in an attempt to soothe it.

"Ingirid. I dinna recall asking ye to my
chambers."

"The slut who fights like a man did not see
fit to spend your last night with you. I took her place." Her lip
jutted out in a sulk.

"Go! Before I lose my temper and beat ye all
the way down to the great hall!"

Ingirid grabbed her clothes off the floor. As
she passed through the doorway, she wriggled her bare arse at him,
letting him see what he was missing.

"Get!"

She slammed the door behind her.

Magnus held the candle high and looked
around. Muriele's things were still against the far wall as they
had been before. Where could she have gone? To Grunda?

He would retrieve her. Dizzy again, he
lurched halfway to the door. Could he find Grunda's hut in the
dark? What if he couldn't make it that far and fell asleep on the
ground, his head cradled on a mound of horse shite?

Having a lucid moment, he turned and slumped
down on the end of the bed. He was a man betrothed to another. By
rights, he was as good as married. It would be wrong for him to
take a leman until his bride was increasing.

He tried to blow out the candle, but the
determined thing kept coming back to light. He'd fix it. He smashed
the palm of his hand down on the wick and nodded when the room
darkened. Falling back on the bed, he reached for Muriele's pillow
and shoved it beneath his head. He rubbed the side of his face and
nose on it, sniffing the apple scent. He still had some hours to
sleep. On the morrow, he would search her out and demand she wait
until he was free to continue as they had been.

He nodded at the cleverness of his plan. It
shouldn't take but a sennight or two to sire an heir.

His last thoughts were he was wise to seek
his bed. 'Twas so much better than dirt and warm horse shite.

o0o

"Are you going to sleep the day away?"
Sweyn's voice near startled Magnus off the bed.

God! His head was as if filled with ant-sized
blacksmiths pounding away on their anvils. The foul taste in his
mouth made him wonder if he
had
ventured out and fallen
asleep in the courtyard.

"Thought you would need this," Sweyn said as
he shoved a cup with a foul-smelling potion at him. When Magnus did
not take it, he added, "Dinna stare at it. Drink it down!"

"What happened last night?"

"Happened? Ye were a fool to let Feradoch
coax ale and wine in your gut until you near fell off the
bench."

"I could not have been too unhinged. I found
my way to the right bed, didn't I?"

To assure himself he was in his own
bedchamber, he glanced around quickly. And moaned. Even his eyelids
hurt.

"After Gille and I shoved you up the
stairwell and near carried you to the room."

"How late is it?"

"Well past the noon hour. I tried to awake
you earlier, but you were stubborn."

"Ah."

Magnus nodded and winced for the movement.
Then he saw Sweyn's right eye was swollen and bruised.

"My work?"

"For certain it wasn't Gille's."

"Should have let me sleep."

"We leave at first light on the morrow. I
thought you would need time to gather all your belongings from the
past. I've two carts ready."

Sweyn looked around with frowning
disapproval. He untangled a sheer smock from the sheets and raised
a brow.

"I thought Ingirid lied when she spread the
word you spent your last night," he paused to repeat word for word
her boast, "ramming your 'huge and hard as granite cock' in her
pleasure cave."

"I didn't. When I learned who it was, I sent
her from the room."

"Too late to do aught about it now. Her words
are all over the castle." He clamped his jaw together as if he
would have liked to lecture further about it.

"Have ye seen Muriele? Her things are here,
but she hasn't been in the room since early yestereve."

"Nay. She slept in Grunda's hut." He eyed
Magnus and frowned. "Afore dawn, when I found you slept alone, I
went to see how she fared. Neither woman was there. Their pallets
looked rumpled as if they'd left in the middle of the night. No one
knows where they are."

"Lucifer's moldy arse! I forbad her to leave
the castle walls!"

"Humpf! It seems to me, you no longer have
the right to forbid her anything."

"She is my property. Olaf gave her to me as a
prize of war."

"And now he's taking her back since she canna
leave with you."

Magnus' stomach roiled. The vile potion Sweyn
mixed to relieve his head's aching did not agree too well with his
belly.

"I intend to send for her once my bride
increases."

Sweyn looked at him in disbelief. "And you
expect the lady Muriele to happily join you and be your leman?
Where did you misplace your brains? Betwixt your balls?"

Magnus felt sick. He barely made it to the
window opening in time to spew, not caring if he showered anyone
who happened to walk by beneath him.

When he stood away and turned, he spied her
cloak hanging on a peg and her clothing trunk against the left
wall.

His chest ached and his throat felt like a
hen had lodged an egg behind his Adams apple.

o0o

Muriele stood atop the landing at the
entrance to Kinbrace's keep. An early morning breeze fought to
sweep back fog creeping relentlessly from the forest. It moved like
ghosts on silent feet intent on swarming over the castle and taking
all within to their soundless world.

Her eyes burned. She blinked to clear her
vision. 'Twas only because she was wearied to the bone. She and
Grunda had slept little, not daring to leave the Alewife
unattended. They packed her betwixt her legs as tightly as they
could, trying to staunch the steady stream of blood. They had near
given up on saving her when the stream eased to a trickle.

She tried to swallow past the growing lump in
her chest. Her breath hitched.

No one needed to tell her. She felt Magnus'
absence much as she would know if someone had cut off her right arm
in the night.

Magnus left Kinbrace without so much as a
single word to her. The heart-wrenching passion they'd shared all
those days and nights had meant naught to him.

He would not return. She felt it in her
bones. No matter what Grunda said about them fated to be life
partners. Magnus likely rode as fast as the wind, goading Odin on
to greater speed in his haste to return to Clibrick and claim his
rich bride.

She bitterly hoped his betrothed was so
repulsive he'd need to swive her in the dark of night. She doubted
he would care. He would be content with her ample dowry, thriving
castle and fertile lands.

All the possessions Magnus wanted—all the
possessions Muriele no longer had.

To keep her dignity, she straightened her
slumped shoulders and stood tall.

To keep her sanity, she let scorn spread like
molten oil to thaw the frozen pain in her heart and fill the
emptiness within her.

Her heart leapt when warm arms surrounded her
and pressed her back against a massive chest and hard body.

Magnus had not left without her!

A warm cheek pressed against her face and a
soft voice spoke in her ear.

"He was not a proper mate for you, my
sweetling."

She stiffened and pulled forward, immediately
aware her heart had not quickened as it did when Magnus was near.
Feradoch's arms immediately softened and released her.

"I did not mean to frighten you, Lady, I only
offered comfort."

Muriele swung around, holding a shawl tightly
under her chin. Feradoch's gentle blue eyes gazed down at her with
empathy. A gust of cold wind loosened a lock of her hair and
whipped it across her face. Through softened lips, he murmured
soothing sounds as he slowly reached out to secure it behind her
left ear.

"I feared it would sting your eyes. I hope I
dinna offend you."

"Nay." She looked down, not knowing how to
talk to a man who had kept his distance since she had come to
Kinbrace.

"I watched for you."

A slight crease formed between her brows as
she tilted her head to look up at him.

"Why? Was there a need?"

"Aye. I kenned there was."

Feradoch's red-blond hair blew softly back
from his beautiful face. His misty blue eyes looked sad and
hesitant, like he debated on how to say his next words.

"Do not believe all the sly whispers Ingirid
has spread about last eve. She has been jealous of you since you
arrived through the gates."

Muriele stiffened.

"What possible rumors could she have spread?
All the time I have been gone, I have been with Grunda tending the
Alewife's difficult lying in."

"Not about you, my sweet lady." He pressed
his lips together and shifted his feet looking like someone who
regretted to impart hurtful news. "She claims Magnus forcibly
carried her to his bedchambers and used her so often she fears she
will be increasing."

Hot, searing hate filled Muriele. She
pretended her face had turned to stone to keep all emotion from
showing. Gritting her teeth, she forced out of her mind the picture
of Magnus rutting so mindlessly with Ingirid he spilled his seed
within her.

That hurt the worst. Even in his most
passionate frenzy, he'd always managed to withdraw at the last
moment to come on her bare belly.

"Thank you, Feradoch. It was kind of you to
warn me aforehand. It truly doesn't concern me. She was welcome to
him. I'm glad he can no longer bend me to his will."

She stepped to the side, indicating she
wished to enter the keep. He swept her a bow and reached around her
to pull open the heavy door.

Muriele nodded her thanks and calmly made her
way through to the great hall. It was later than she thought, for
many people were already preparing to break their fast. A flash of
color drew her gaze as Esa hurried toward her and took her elbow.
She steered her to their far corner where the table was empty.

"Where were you? Did you hide from Magnus'
leaving?" She looked worried and upset.

"Nay. The Alewife had need of me. Magnus did
not."

"The dust of his leaving has just
settled."

"He must have been anxious to start."

"He didn't look to be. Feradoch rode out with
him as usual. They galloped through the barbican and over the
drawbridge, but for the first time in many years, Thor pulled
ahead. They parted ways at the edge of the forest."

"He left no word for me. Just rode away as if
I had never been."

Esa put an arm around her shoulder. It was
fortunate she had, for Ingirid entered the room holding on to
Flori's arm as if she was so very tired she could not walk on her
own. She made sure everyone's gaze was on her when she seated
herself at the high table. She did so gingerly as if it pained her.
Her loud "Oh!" and then sighs of suffering added emphasis to her
plight.

The high table had half as many chairs as
before, since Magnus' knights and their wives had departed with
him. Feradoch scowled at the woman and she bowed her head as if
embarrassed. Huh! Slim chance of believing that! Muriele had heard
the woman danced naked whenever the coins offered were high
enough.

"Come! No sense in yer eating this gummy
porridge when I have prepared a pot just the way ye like it,"
Grunda's voice said at her elbow. "There is plenty for three. By
the pale faces of ye both, ye need a day to relax and be in the sun
and fresh air."

Muriele and her friend were more than willing
to escape the stuffy hall and the sympathetic looks the women threw
her way.

That morning was the start of a new life for
her. She and Esa broke their fast with Grunda from then on. The
three became such close friends they seldom appeared separated.

Olaf did put a restriction on their
friendship, however. He insisted both women sit at the high table
for the noon meal and the evening repast. He placed Muriele to his
left between Feradoch and himself and Esa to his right. He boasted
he had the two most beautiful women in the castle at his sides.

Feradoch was an attentive partner, always
assuring she had the best portion of foods offered. He knew her
favorite was roasted pig. Sometimes, he went hunting early in the
morn to spear a pig and bribed the cook to prepare it for the noon
meal.

He wooed Muriele like a most earnest swain.
Each day he rode out as dawn broke and found the newest, most
unusual blossoms and brought them to her. Sometimes, her offering
for the day would be a smooth river rock with unusual, brilliant
colors.