Viking Warrior (3 page)

“Your skin is red and raw.”

Reyna glanced down at herself. “Wool irritates my skin. I knew this would happen. That’s why I wanted to wear my silk tunic beneath the wool. Uma wouldn’t let me keep it.”

Finding Reyna naked had severely taxed Wulf’s control. He was rock hard; if they remained alone much longer, he would do what his body demanded. Just
thinking about Reyna’s soft curves made his cock jerk with desperate need.

Reyna is the enemy
, his conscience told him.
She is a desirable woman
, a much louder voice contradicted.
You are Wulf the Ruthless. She is yours, take her.

Wulf grasped the hem of Reyna’s tunic, raised it back over her head and tossed it to the ground. Then he pulled her against him. She stared up at him, her green eyes wide with fright.

“Stop! What are you doing?”

“Your lips…”

“What about my lips?”

“I’ve been wondering how they taste.”

“Don’t touch me! Let me go. I am cold and ’tis late. We should be abed.”

“Aye, I am thinking the same thing. My furs are far more comfortable than the ground. I know now you are not a maiden. Your Byzantine master doubtless had you many times after…well, after.”

“After you raped me!” Reyna shot back.

“No, it was not me, I swear it.”

“Liar!”

With a groan, Wulf’s mouth came down hard over hers, effectively stopping her words. His lips were demanding, his tongue probing against hers with fierce determination, forcing them open.

His tongue darted inside, exploring, savoring her honeyed taste. Wulf ached. He wanted to throw her to the ground and thrust his cock inside her sweet tunnel.

Reyna whimpered in fearful protest as Wulf’s hard mouth plundered hers. When he paid her no heed, she flailed her hands against his rock-hard chest, to no avail. When his big hands kneaded her breasts, she knew she was just moments away from being ravished again by her Norse captor. She couldn’t bear it. Without
thinking about the consequences, she bit down hard on his lip.

He jerked his head back and touched his lip; his hand came away with blood on it.

“Thor’s hammer! Why did you do that?”

Panting, Reyna stepped away from him, snatched up her tunic and pulled it over her head. “I won’t let you ravish me again.”

There was no mirth in Wulf’s smile. “Though you accuse me unjustly, this time it is my right. You are my slave, to do with as I please, just as it was your previous master’s right.”

Reyna faced him squarely. “You are wrong about me. My previous master did not touch me.”

Wulf threw back his head and laughed. “Am I supposed to believe that?”

“I speak the truth.”

“Did you not reside in his harem?”

“Aye, but that was your fault. You tore me away from my home and loved ones and sold me to a slave trader.” She smiled. “I proved to be too much trouble for my master. My threats to turn him into a eunuch kept him away from me. Besides, why would he risk his manhood to bed me when he had many beautiful women vying for his attention?”

“Had you harmed him, you would have died a horrible death.”

She angled her chin upward. “I was willing to take that chance. Never again will a man take from me what I am not willing to give. That means you, Wulf the Ruthless.”

So saying, she turned on her heel and stalked off.

Wulf took two long strides in her direction, then stopped. What in Thor’s name was wrong with him? Reyna was the last woman on earth he wished to bed.
Her people had killed Astrid. He didn’t know why he had carried her to his dragonship after Rannulf had finished with her. Perhaps it was because she had looked so pitiful lying there that he had felt an unexpected jolt of compassion. But once she was aboard his ship, he’d wanted nothing to do with her and had sold her to a slave trader.

Nothing had changed since that day. Nothing, not even his lusty appetites would endear Reyna the Dane to him.

Beauty was only skin deep.

Reyna stormed back to Wulf’s hall. She had gone to the fjord for a bit of privacy after Uma and Lorne had fallen asleep. Though Reyna knew the water would be cold, she had been in desperate need of a bath and didn’t think anyone would miss her.

Why had Wulf come looking for her? Why had he kissed her? What had happened to night had convinced her that she wasn’t safe from Wulf’s lustful attentions. He was a Norseman, a man born to kill, rape and plunder. No woman was safe from him.

And yet…When he looked at her, there was no denying the spark of admiration that lit his icy silver eyes. She swore she would not return that admiration. She hated what he had done to her and her family and had no intention of falling prey to the handsome brute.

Reyna entered the hall, found a wolf pelt in a corner cupboard and curled up on a bench. Sleep eluded her. The bench was hard and uncompromising. In her father’s hall she had slept in a real bed covered with furs. And in Constantinople she had experienced luxury she had only dared dream about.

Reyna was still trying to find a comfortable position when Wulf returned to the hall. She went still when he
stopped beside her bench. She could feel his eyes on her and scarcely dared to breath. Would he order her to service him in bed? She released her breath in a soft whoosh when he continued on to his sleeping alcove.

Before falling asleep, Reyna recalled the sails she had seen at the entrance of the fjord and wondered if she had made too much of them. She had been terrified when she’d first noted them. To Reyna, sails on the horizon meant the approach of raiders. She had lived in terror of Viking raiders her entire life. But since Wulf didn’t seem concerned, why should she be?

Reyna drifted off to sleep with the image of sails floating through her mind.

Wulf tossed and turned on his bed of furs, aching for the soft, curvy body he’d held in his arms earlier. Reyna had to be a witch to enthrall him so thoroughly. For a moment he had forgotten who she was and what her people had cost him. In his mind’s eye he pictured her as he had seen her, rising from the fjord, her body lithe and supple; her hip-length hair glowed like pale gold in the moonlight. Wulf’s loins swelled just thinking about her. His cock was still hard when sleep finally claimed him.

Reyna was shaken awake by Uma. “Get up, lazy! Thralls do not have the luxury of sleeping past dawn.” Reyna opened her eyes. “Is it dawn already?” “Aye, long past. Fold your furs and put them in the cupboard. There’s porridge left over from yesterday.

You can break your fast after you carry water in from the well.”

Reyna rose, stretched and folded her covers. As she replaced the furs in the cupboard, she noticed that Lorne was sitting at the table wolfing down a trencher of eggs and ham.

“I prefer what Lorne is eating,” she told Uma.

“You will eat what you are served,” Uma replied. “You have done naught to deserve eggs and ham. The bucket is sitting beside the door and the well is located in the yard. I’m sure you can find it. It will take several buckets to fill our barrel, so you had best get to work.”

Despite Uma’s glower of disapproval, Reyna took time to visit the privy and wash her hands and face before leaving to fetch the water. She found the wooden bucket beside the door and carried it to the well, prominently situated in the center of the yard.

She had taken no more than a few steps when she saw Wulf and his brother, Hagar, exiting a building she supposed was the steam hut. All farmsteads, even hers, had one. Though she tried to ignore the men, they saw her and came in her direction.

“Where are you going?” Wulf asked.

She held up the bucket. “I should think that would be obvious.”

“Fetching water is Lorne’s duty.”

“ ’tis mine now, or so I’ve been told.” She continued on her way.

Wulf grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “There are other duties you can perform. Have you broken your fast?” Reyna shook her head.

“I haven’t eaten either. Return to the hall; Uma can cook your food along with mine.”

“But Uma said…”

“I am the master here,” Wulf roared. “Do as I say.”

“Tell that to Uma,” Reyna muttered as she spun around and marched back to the hall.

“I see your problem, brother, and I am glad ’tis yours,” Hagar said, trying desperately not to laugh.

Wulf glared at him. “Go ahead and laugh. ’tis your fault, you know.”

“I had no idea you had any history with Reyna when I bought her. I thought I was providing someone for you to sport with in bed. You needed a woman to spice up your life.” Laughing, Hagar walked away.

Cursing beneath his breath, Wulf returned to his hall in time to see Uma strike Reyna.

“Witch!” Uma cried. “When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it. Why did you return without the water? For disobeying me, you can go without food the rest of the day.”

Neither woman knew Wulf was in the hall until he spoke. “Since when have you usurped my authority, Uma?” His voice, so cold, so menacing, sent a shiver down Reyna’s spine. “I am the only one who can dispense punishment in this hall.”

“I did not mean to offend, master,” Uma whined. “Your new thrall is disobedient and must be dealt with harshly.”

“That is for me to decide, Uma. And fetching water from the well is Lorne’s duty.” He sent a pointed glance at Lorne. Lorne took the hint, plucked the empty bucket from Reyna’s hands and made a hasty exit.

“What would you have your new thrall do?” Uma asked. “She cannot remain idle.”

“I will think on it,” Wulf said. “Meanwhile, I am ready to break my fast. When you cook my food, make an extra portion for Reyna. She has not yet eaten.”

“I warmed up some porridge for her,” Uma said, reaching for a bowl.

Wulf glanced at the trenchers Uma and Lorne had been eating from, noting the remnants of eggs and meat. “I see you and Lorne have already eaten.”

Reyna saw Uma swallow nervously and she suppressed a smile despite her smarting cheek. Uma had a heavy hand.

“Aye, we broke our fast while Reyna slept,” Uma mumbled.

“I see,” Wulf said. “What did you eat?”

“Eggs and ham, master.”

“Reyna and I will have the same.”

“There are no more eggs. I assumed you would eat with your family as you usually do.”

“This time you are wrong.” He turned to Reyna. “Go to the hen house to fetch eggs while Uma prepares food for us.”

Reyna didn’t argue. Gathering eggs was far easier than hauling water.

The hens were generous this morning. Reyna easily found enough eggs to fill her basket and returned to the hall in quick order.

“You may sup at the table with me,” Wulf said, as if granting her a boon.

Reyna sat as far away from Wulf as she could get. A few minutes later Uma placed a platter of eggs and ham in front of Wulf and a smaller trencher before Reyna. Then she served each a horn of buttermilk.

Reyna ate with gusto, savoring every bite. She preferred eggs and ham to porridge any day.

Wulf watched Reyna eat from the corner of his eye. She had a hearty appetite, he noted, and wondered if all her appetites were robust. He shook the thought from his head and concentrated on his food.

“May I begin my search for herbs and roots this morning?” Reyna asked.

“Not now. Perhaps later, when I can accompany you,” Wulf replied.

“Do you fear I will run away?”

“I fear losing a valuable property to wild animals.”

Reyna bristled. “Give me a weapon. I can take care of myself.”

Wulf pushed his empty plate aside and rose. “Thralls are not allowed weapons. I will take you when I have time.”

A commotion outside the door effectively stopped the verbal confrontation. “What is happening?” Reyna asked.

“I do not know. Stay here, all of you,” Wulf ordered as he retrieved Blood-Seeker from where it leaned against the hearth, and he strode out the door.

The sound of agitated voices in the yard grew louder. Reyna’s lively curiosity wouldn’t allow her to sit idly by when she might be of help. She started toward the front door.

“Where are you going?” Uma called after her.

“To see what is happening,” Reyna answered.

“But the master said…”

“I heard Wulf, but I refuse to take orders from the likes of him.”

Reyna opened the door and stepped out into the morning sunshine. One glance at the crowd gathered around something or someone lying on the ground was enough to send her racing forward to investigate. No one seemed to notice as she pushed her way through the crowd until she saw Wulf kneeling beside a youth. The boy’s head rested in Thora’s lap while his life’s blood drained from his body. Pushing Wulf aside, Reyna dropped to her knees beside the lad.

“What happened?” she asked, visually assessing the boy’s wounds. “Who is he?”

“My brother Olaf,” Wulf said. As if suddenly realizing whom he was talking to, Wulf ordered, “Return to the hall at once. You are not needed here.”

“Your brother is wounded, I can help.”

“Reyna is right, son,” Thora agreed. “She is a healer; let her tend to your brother.”

That was all the permission Reyna needed. “Carry him inside. Be careful not to jostle him. Someone fetch the medicinal chest from Wulf’s hall.”

Though some might have thought Reyna had overstepped her authority, no one countermanded her orders.

Wulf scooped Olaf into his arms and carried him to his sleeping alcove in Hagar’s hall.

“Lay him down carefully,” Reyna admonished. Wulf obeyed without question. “Undress him so I can see how badly he is injured.”

“Hagar and I will disrobe him,” Wulf replied. “Step back, Reyna.”

Reyna heaved an exasperated sigh. “You do know I’ll have to see his body if I am to treat him, don’t you?”

“I know,” Wulf said through clenched teeth, “but let us do this for him. Gather what you need to treat him.”

The medicinal chest arrived, and right behind it a basin of hot water and strips of linen cloth. By the time Reyna had everything laid out on a nearby table, Wulf and his brother had undressed Olaf and covered him with a sheet Thora had provided.

“Light more rushes. Then all of you leave except for Thora,” Reyna ordered.

“We will stay until we learn how badly our brother is hurt,” Wulf declared as Hagar hurriedly lit two more rushes, placed them in wall sconces and returned to hover over Olaf.

Just then Olaf opened his eyes and reached a shaking
hand out to his brothers. Wulf clasped his hand. “Do not talk. You are going to be all right.”

“Listen to me,” Olaf gasped. “You need to know…”

“Can it not wait?” Hagar asked.

“Nay, this is a matter of life or death. The village to the south of us was raided by Finns before dawn today.”

“Raided? By Finns? Are you sure?”

“Aye, I bear the wounds to prove it. I went to the village after the evening meal last night to visit…a friend. I lingered too long and decided to spend the night, arise before dawn and return home. The Finns came ashore in wave after wave while I was preparing to leave. I…I had no choice but to fight for my life.”

“The sails!” Reyna cried. “I knew they meant trouble.”

Olaf was breathing hard now as he struggled to continue. “The raiders are coming here next. They will attack at dawn tomorrow.”

“How do you know this?” Hagar asked.

“I heard them talk about it as I lay wounded on the ground. They thought I was dead. They want plunder and slaves.”

“Enough!” Reyna said. “I beg you, if you care about your brother, let me treat his wounds.”

Hagar and Wulf exchanged speaking glances. “Come, brother,” Hagar said, “there is a great deal to be done before dawn tomorrow.”

“Take care of Olaf,” Wulf told Reyna as he ushered Hagar out the door.

Thora hovered over her son, wringing her hands. “Olaf has lost consciousness. Will he live? Is there anything I can do?”

Reyna spared Thora a glance. “His head injury is bleeding profusely but ’tis not life threatening. Dip a cloth in water and clean it while I tend to his more serious wounds.”

Slowly Reyna slipped the sheet down Olaf’s body, until she found the source of all the blood. Stifling a gasp, she stared at the gaping gash in his right side, just above his hip. Blood still oozed from it. Apparently a Finn had tried to cleave Olaf in half with his battle-axe.

“How bad is it?” Thora asked tremulously.

Reaching for a cloth, Reyna dipped it into the basin of hot water and pressed it against the wound. “It doesn’t look good, but rest assured I will do my best to save him.”

“You were right about my son’s head injury, Reyna, it is not serious,” Thora said. “A stitch or two will suffice. I can do it while you treat the more serious wound.”

Reyna nodded as she concentrated on the work ahead of her. She continued putting pressure on the wound while Thora placed neat stitches on Olaf’s forehead. After several long minutes, the bleeding from the gaping wound in Olaf’s side slowed to a trickle. Very carefully Reyna removed the cloth, frowning when she saw just how many stitches it would take to close the wound. But first things first.

After washing her hands with soap, she carefully cleaned the wound. Then she asked Thora to fetch dill seeds from the medicinal chest. These she placed directly into the wound before stitching it up. The stitching was a slow pro cess; Reyna was a skilled healer and would allow no mistakes. Before binding the wound, Reyna smeared salve made from yarrow root over it.

“That’s all we can do for him now,” Reyna said as she felt Olaf’s forehead for fever. “He must be watched closely. I will brew an infusion of herbs to ward off fever and valerian root to help deaden his pain.”

When Reyna turned to leave, Thora pleaded, “Do not leave. Olaf may need you.”

“I won’t be gone long. Do you know where Wulf went?”

“He left to summon warriors from nearby villages and farmsteads. We will need all the help we can get to defeat the raiders. We are too few to do it without help.”

Reyna nodded and left the alcove, carrying the medicinal chest with her. She was surprised to see Wulf pacing just outside the curtain. “I thought you’d left.”

“I waited to learn more about Olaf’s condition. Is he awake? Can I speak with him?”

“He is still unconscious. I am going to brew an infusion of herbs to ease his pain, and then prepare a rich beef broth to replenish the blood he has lost. As for his condition, though he has lost a great deal of blood, I believe he will recover.”

“Thank Odin for that. I must leave now. The more warriors we can gather, the easier it will be to crush the Finns when they attack. Though they are fearsome warriors, I have every confidence in our ability to defend our farmstead.”

Reyna watched Wulf stride off. Armed to the teeth, he was an awesome sight. Shuddering at the memory, she vividly recalled her first encounter with Wulf the Ruthless. He had been so crazed and driven by blood-lust, she was surprised he had recognized her when his brother brought her to their farmstead. He had scarcely spared her a glance during the voyage to Byzantium.

Shaking her head to banish the memory, Reyna carried the medicinal chest to the hearth, where she asked a thrall to help her prepare what she needed for Olaf.

Reyna glanced around the hall, surprised to see the thralls going about their duties as if the farmstead weren’t about to be raided. She supposed they had no choice in the matter.

While the tea was brewing, Reyna found a piece of newly slaughtered beef and placed it in a cauldron with water and herbs for the broth. She worked over the
hearth until Thora poked her head through the curtain and said, “Olaf is awake and in pain.”

“The tea is ready,” Reyna replied.

She poured the valerian tea into a horn, carried it to Olaf’s sleeping alcove and handed it to Thora. “I will lift his head while you try to get some of it down him.”

“Where are Hagar and Wulf?” Olaf gasped. “The Finns…”

“They know, you already told them,” Thora soothed. “Your brothers will take care of everything. Drink this; it will ease your pain.”

Olaf took several sips, then pushed the horn away, signaling that he had had enough. Thora glanced at Reyna. Reyna nodded, indicating that Olaf had consumed enough to dull his pain. Then Thora laid his head back on the pillow. A few minutes later, he closed his eyes and slept.

“If you have things to do, I can sit with him,” Reyna offered.

“Thank you, I should see to the preparation of food for the warriors that will help defend us against the raiders.”

“Where are your daughters?” Reyna asked. “I did not see them in the hall.”

“I sent the girls inland to my brother’s farmstead with young Eric for protection. The Finns have come for plunder and slaves.” She drew herself up to her full height. “No daughters of mine will become slaves.”

Reyna’s voice was strangely calm despite the insensitivity of that statement. “My mother said the same, yet I was taken captive by your son and sold to a foreign master. Now I am Wulf’s slave.”

Thora had the grace to flush. Her words held a hint of pity. “I am sorry, Reyna. It may not be fair, but it is the way of life in our harsh lands.”

“Some of us are unluckier than others. If there is
a change in Olaf’s condition, I will summon you.” Bitterness tinged Reyna’s words; she did not want Thora’s pity.

Thora nodded and left the alcove. Reyna pulled a bench up to the bed and sat down to watch over the wounded lad. Olaf slept most of the day, moaning softly in his sleep. Toward evening, the fever she had been expecting arrived.

Rummaging in the medicinal chest, Reyna found willow bark and left the alcove to brew an infusion to cool his fever. Thora saw her and sent her a worried look.

“Has Olaf taken a turn for the worse?”

“He is feverish. ’tis no more than I expected. Can you boil some willow bark tea? It should help bring down his fever.”

“Of course, and I will send a thrall to fetch cold water. I have found that bathing feverish patients with cold water helps.” Thora searched Reyna’s face. “You look exhausted.” She led Reyna to one of the tables being set up in the hall. “Sit down—you need to eat and rest. I will boil the tea for Olaf and bathe him myself.”

Reyna sank onto the bench. She was tired and worried. Though he might be her enemy, she didn’t want Olaf to die. He was young and ought to have a full life ahead of him.

Thora placed a heaping plate of food before her. “Eat your fill; once the Finns arrive, there is no telling when we will eat again.”

“Do you think they will prevail over the Norsemen?”

“Our men are strong and prepared. Fear not, they will defeat the enemy.”

Reyna’s stomach growled, and she dug into her food. She had been given a generous portion of roasted pork, cheese, vegetables, bread and freshly churned butter. While she ate, Wulf returned to the hall and strode over to join her. “How is my brother?”

Reyna pushed her empty plate aside and glanced up at Wulf. “Feverish, but I expect him to recover.”

“Why are you not with him?”

“Your mother ordered me to eat and rest while she bathed Olaf with cold water and fed him willow bark tea to bring down his fever. Did you find the warriors you need?”

“Many of our kinsmen, kraalls and warriors from neighboring farmsteads have begun to arrive, armed and ready to defend our shores. Surprise is on our side. The raiders have no idea we have been warned, or that we plan to set up two lines of defense to protect our farmstead.”

“What happens now?”

“After I look in on my brother, I intend to see to my weapons and then get some rest.”

“Shall I return to your hall to night?”

“No, remain here with Olaf. He might have need of you.”

“Am I allowed a weapon to defend myself?”

“We defend our own,” Wulf growled. “A weapon will be of little use to you.” So saying, he strode into Olaf’s sleeping alcove.

Reyna spent a restless night rolled up in a wolf pelt beside Olaf’s bed. Except for those on guard duty, everyone had retired for the night, though Reyna had no idea how they could sleep with the prospect of a fierce battle looming over them.

Reyna awakened several times during the night to check on Olaf. He was still feverish. She fed him more willow bark tea and bathed his face and neck with cold water. When she awoke at dawn, it was to war cries and the clash of weapons.

The Finns had come ashore and the battle had begun.

Reyna rushed from the sleeping alcove, surprised to see
Thora and Olga sitting on a bench, calmly tearing cloth for bandages. Olga scowled at Reyna as she joined them.

“What are you doing out here? You are supposed to be tending to Olaf.”

Thora placed a calming hand on Olga. “Do not fuss at Reyna, Olga. She saved Olaf’s life.” To Reyna she asked, “How is my son? He was sleeping when I looked in on him earlier.”

“Olaf’s wound has not turned putrid and he seems to be holding his own. I am confident his fever will break today.”

“His recovery is due entirely to your healing skills, Reyna. I thank you. The warriors ate hours ago but there is porridge in the cauldron. Please help yourself.”

“I couldn’t eat a thing while the fighting is raging, but perhaps we should try to get some broth down Olaf.”

The din outside became louder. Reyna glanced toward the door. “What is going on out there?”

“ ’tis none of your concern,” Olga snapped. “You are a thrall. You will either have a new master or keep the old one this day.”

A commotion coming from Olaf’s sleeping alcove brought Thora to her feet. Reyna cried out in dismay when she saw Olaf stagger through the curtains, a sword hanging from one hand. If Thora hadn’t run to support him, he would have fallen.

“What are you doing up? Are you trying to kill yourself after Reyna worked tirelessly to save your life?”

“I want to fight,” Olaf mumbled. “Dying a ‘straw death’ in my bed will not earn me the right to enter Valhalla. When I die, I want it to be with a sword in my hand.”

The words had scarcely left his mouth before his sword clattered to the floor and he collapsed to his knees. Olga rushed forward to help Thora ease Olaf back into his
bed. Reyna glanced at the sword lying on the floor and without hesitation scooped it up. Though its weight felt heavy in her hand, the weapon reinforced her courage. The battle being waged outside reminded her of that fateful attack upon her farmstead, and her capture by a Norse berserker.

Reyna’s natural curiosity sent her inching toward the door. She had to know what was going on outside. With shaking hands she unlatched the door and pushed it open just enough for a glimpse of the chaos outside. She covered her mouth with her hand at the sight of the bloody battle being fought with swords, battle-axes and spears. It was a scene straight from hell. It appeared that the Finns had gained substantial ground despite the carefully laid plans of the Norsemen. It didn’t take a genius to realize why. The Norsemen were outnumbered two to one.

Reyna couldn’t move, could scarcely breathe as she watched the raging battle in growing horror. Blood-soaked men lay on the ground, some wounded, some dying, some already dead. But despite the odds against them, Reyna was heartened to note that the tide appeared to be turning in favor of the Norsemen.

They were slowly driving the Finns back, toward the fjord and their dragonships. She looked for Wulf and saw him fighting for his life, using his sword and battle-axe to hack at the enemy. Wulf the Ruthless was upholding his name with fierce courage and a magnificent display of skill.