Viking Love Beyond Time (Time Travel Romance) (23 page)

             
“Yes” replied Alfred “the claw of a bear eh?  How did you come by it?”

             
Herger smiled and sitting down took a drink from his goblet “I was in a small village in Russland............”

             
He was talking to Alfred but he kept glancing at Alodie and every time he did, every time his eyes met hers she felt herself growing hotter and hotter.  She looked down and gave her attention to her plate of food and, although she had never felt less like eating, she idly picked at a piece of chicken.  What was happening to her?  She had never felt like this about a man, he made her feel like a blushing schoolgirl, if she was going to be totally honest with herself she would have to admit that all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms, cover his face with kisses and run her fingers through his crisp dark curls.  She balled her fists and dug her nails into her hands.
Don’t let him get to you Austen
she said to herself
he’s a filthy savage, no better than Harald, no far, far worse, he’s a noble, he’s in charge, he gives the orders.  It was Rorik and his kind who invaded Bredond, killed Alfhold, raped Godgyth and enslaved the other villagers - hate him you idiot, don’t let him get under your skin, if you let a man like that gain power over you you’re lost and yet...............
she glanced up,
what would it be like to have those strong arms holding you close? For once not to be in control, to let a person stronger than you take over - NO! That way lies disaster!
and aloud she snapped “How many women did you rape in this village, Viking?  How many good men did you kill? How many children did you leave orphaned?”

             
The table fell silent, dozens of pairs of eyes turned in astonishment in her direction, then the look on Alfred’s face changed from one of astonishment to one of annoyance and Aehlswith kicked her sharply under the table. It was just not done in Anglo Saxon England for a woman to interrupt two men in conversation, especially not the king of
Wessex
and a noble of
Denmark
.  Alodie’s knuckles were white round the stem of her goblet, she was oblivious to anything except this huge man who had unseated her emotions, her blazing blue eyes burned into his laconic green ones.

             
He smiled almost lazily.  “Actually Lady Alodie, I am sorry to disappoint you but none.  I was on a trading expedition”

             
Aehlswith kicked her once again.  “You must forgive Lady Alodie” cut in the king “she was brought up in
Bohemia
where ladies
seem to be
allowed more licence than they are in either your country or ours, also she has had a rather distressing experience.  My lady, Rorik is my honoured guest, we are now at peace.”

             
Alodie glanced at the king, he was positively glowering at her - how could she have lost control like that?  “Ah yes, now I remember” said Rorik.  Alodie looked back at him, his eyes were sweeping her body almost insolently “I knew I could never forget such a beauteous lady, I saw her in Bredond, but she was dressed - er somewhat differently”

             
Alodie felt blood rush from her toes up to her hairline.  Biting her lip she got to her feet.  “Forgive me your Grace, Lady Aehlswith, I - I feel rather ill, a sudden headache, may I be excused?” Alfred waved her away and Aehlswith squeezed her arm.

             
“I will see you tomorrow morning in the sewing room, I trust” she whispered.  Alodie nodded and bobbing a curtsey to both the king and queen but studiously ignoring the Viking she fled up to her room.

             
Herger watched her intently as she almost ran up the stairs, oblivious to the voices round him.  What a woman! What spirit! Thor but she was desirable, he was counting the hours until he held her naked in his arms with a locked door behind them.

             
Down the hall Oswy and Luke were watching every move in the tableau being played out the other end of the table.  Luke thoughtfully chewed a hunk of barley bread and toyed with his eating knife.  “Watch that Norseman Luke, see how he follows Alodie with his eyes, he means to mount her” remarked Oswy.

             
“He’ll be a gelded Norseman if he tries” Luke replied.

             
Edric took a drink and replaced his goblet on the table “Do you think he has a chance?  Alodie is a virtuous lady”

             
Luke stared up the table, Rorik was in earnest conversation with the king.  “I don’t know, the bastard’s too handsome for his own good - look at the women staring at him”

             
Edric laughed “well, it makes a change from them staring at you Luke, fair’s fair”

             
A  serving maid poured some more ale into their flagons.  Luke put his hand over his, he had drunk enough, he wanted a clear head for a change.  Alodie was slipping through his fingers, he had never seen her so fazed by anyone before, she had always been the most cool and level headed person he had ever met, that was part of her attraction, her damned aloofness, now he had seen the icy Captain Austen reduced to a stammering blushing schoolgirl by a barbarian thug - what the hell was going on?  He felt Oswy tapping him on the arm.  “Are you with us Luke or woolgathering?” he enquired.

             
Luke shook his head “Forgive me, Uncle, I was miles away”

             
Oswy speared a piece of mutton on the end of his knife, placed it in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a few moments before speaking. “I said, what are you going to do about Alodie?”

             
Luke turned to him “What do you mean, do about her?”

             
“Its no secret lad, she’s refused you for some other reason than that stupid one of being married to that damned heathen, that’s an excuse.  What’s wrong?  You’re rich now, good looking, young and strong, what ails the maid?”

             
Luke bit into an apple.  “I think it had something to do with the fact that she found out I had been bedding Gwen of Saltop”

             
“Wh-whaat?” spluttered Oswy.  
Oh God
thought Luke
I’ve offended Uncle Oswy’s morals - I’ll probably be disinherited.
“Do you mean to tell me” he said “that she risked her whole future because of a night’s understandable dalliance on your part?  Why,
I’ve
galloped Gwen of Saltop, I know Aelfric has, on several occasions”

             
“So have I” admitted Edric.

             
“and me” interjected Cuthbert of Milston.

             
“Gwen of Saltop has been bedded by most of the ruling class of
Wessex
” continued Oswy “Everyone has been to bed with Gwen, she’s a tradition.  What in Hades has that got to do with Alodie?”

             
Luke began to laugh.  This was what was missing in the twenty fifth century, male comradeship.  He came from a time when the sexes were totally equal, they ate together on ship, they exercised together, they fought side by side.  He felt more at home in
Wessex
on
30th August 876
than he had ever felt anywhere in his life.

             
Right now, however, he needed Alodie, needed to possess her, needed to hold her naked beneath him.  He had made love to her so many times in his mind that he could almost taste her honeyed skin on his tongue, he was going crazy for her.

             
He gripped his knife and scored deep marks on the table.  “I want her Uncle, I need her and she will not marry me”

             
Oswy gripped his forearm “Take her then Luke, force put her, no one will blame you for it, you intend to marry her”

             
Luke looked up, shocked “are you suggesting rape, Uncle?” he asked

             
“Rape my eye” he said “what do you say, Aelfric”

             
Aelfric drained his goblet, refilled it, then looked up “I say that if, thirty years ago, I had been betrothed to a woman who looked like Alodie and had brought her all the way from Bohemia unaccompanied, slept in the woods at night alone with her and
hadn’t
had her before now, I would have considered myself a bloody sodomite!”  Luke laughed.

             
“Luke’s an honourable man, Father” interjected Edric.

             
Aelfric belched then wiped his mouth “Honourable arseholes” he continued “women are made for one thing.  Alodie is wanting Luke to take her but she can’t very well make the first move and she is sick of waiting for him so she is trying to force his hand” he gripped Luke’s arm.  “Take her lad and once you’ve tupped her and hopefully got her with child, she’ll have to marry you”

             
Oswy tapped his temple “They’re not logical Luke, women, they don’t think like us, they don’t know what’s good for them.  Oh, she’ll set up a real hullabaloo but no one’s going to worry and afterwards she’ll know her master and be obedient, you’re too soft with her lad, stop asking her, tell her.”

             
Aelfric hiccuped into his goblet. “The trouble with young Alodie is that she’s had too much learning for a wench.  Wenches who read and write are trouble, get up those stairs lad and show her who’s in charge”

             
“What?  You mean here? Now?”

             
“Aye lad, strike whilst the iron’s hot”

             
“Don’t do it Luke” said Edric, quietly.

             
“What if she screams and struggles?” asked Luke incredulously, remembering the penalty for rape in his time - ten years hard labour in a
Brazilian
mine and drugs which removed the sexual urge - permanently.

             
Oswy waved his hand in the air “Who the hell is going to hear her with this racket going on?” As if on cue, two young men at the bottom of the table began to fight and within moments benches were overturned and they were surrounded by yelling onlookers.

             
Luke glanced round.  The hall was full of people, those who were not watching the fight were shouting to each other and drinking.  Alfred was deep in conversation with Wulfric, Bishop of Winchester.  At the other end of the hall sweating serfs were basting a large sheep and the fat was hissing into the fire.  Oswy threw down a bone into the rushes and it was immediately fought over by two snarling dogs.

             
“You are not going to take any notice of those two drunken old men, are you Luke?” asked Edric, quietly.

             
Luke was silent for a moment then he turned to his friend. “Why Edric, do you think it’s a bad idea?”

             
“I think it is, you know it is”.

             
“I know you would rather be the one who was going up those stairs to bring the ice princess down to Earth.  Am I right?”

             
Edric got to his feet.  “I’m going for a walk, I suddenly feel quite sick - goodnight Luke, Oswy, Father” bowing he walked quickly to the side door and let himself out.

             
Aelfric took another drink from his goblet and slid under the table whilst Oswy put his head on his arms and began to snore.  Luke looked round.  Alodie would be in bed now, alone, no one was watching.  It would be the easiest thing in the world to get into the room on a pretext.  Coming to a decision he tossed down the rest of the contents of his goblet and poured himself another measure, he could not possibly do this thing cold.  As he replaced the ale jug he happened to glance up to the top table.  The Viking was staring at him, thoughtfully, almost studying him, those burning green eyes seemed to see right through him.  Luke laughed, hoping he looked more confident than he felt, and raising his goblet to the Dane, toasted him sarcastically and turned back to the feast.

*****************

             
Alodie
             
was lying fully dressed on her bed with her hands behind her head.  She was shocked, shocked and horrified at the outburst her feelings for the Viking had aroused in her.  She was suddenly aware of her body, every inch of it, rubbing against her clothes.  Her encounter with Luke Owen in Oswy’s orchard, although leaving her frustrated, had not made her feel anything like this.

             
She climbed off the bed, stripped and looked at herself in the mirror.  Since she had come to
Wessex
she seemed to have grown slimmer in the waist and hips and got slightly bigger in the bosom.  “Girl, you’re getting top heavy” she said to herself and walking over to the window opened the shutters.  The moon was bright, flooding the room with silver light and throwing her shadow into dark relief against the plaster walls.

             
Shivering, she slipped on her nightrail and climbed into bed.  She was about to blow out the candle when there came a knock at the door, assuming it was Aehlswith she climbed out of bed, unlocked the door and opened it.  It was Luke, he was dressed in black and his shirt was open.  He had spilled ale down the front but he seemed quite sober.  “What do you want, Lieutenant Commander?” she sighed “I’m tired and have a headache”.  He laughed, mirthlessly.