Viking Warrior (9 page)

“Reyna.” Wulf’s voice jerked her back to the present.

Reyna was surprised to see that she and Wulf were alone at the table. “Where has everyone gone?”

“My sisters are with Olga and the babe.”

“Where are Olaf and Eric? Do they not want to see their new nephew?”

“They accompanied Rannulf to his farmstead yesterday. Rannulf wanted to help his father and their thralls prepare for the winter months and my brothers offered to go with him. They should return within a fortnight.”

Reyna suppressed a shudder. “Is Rannulf serious about courting Helga? Are you and Hagar going to allow it?”

“We are going to wait and see how the courtship progresses. In the end, it will be up to Helga. I know Rannulf hurt you, but he is a Norseman, and Norsemen raid and plunder. ’tis our way of life.”

“What about you, Wulf? Will you continue raiding and plundering?”

“No, I plan to become a trader like Hagar. We will sail to Byzantium next summer. Trading pig iron and amber for luxury items has made our family prosperous.”

“I am glad,” Reyna whispered.

“You should rest. You look worn out. I will stay here for a while in case I am needed.”

Reyna nodded, grabbed her cloak and headed out the door. She was halfway across the yard when a cold drizzle began to fall. Thralls scurried here and there to get out of the rain. She saw Uma duck into Hagar’s hall. Reyna had hoped to bathe in the volcanic pool, but now she would have to make do with a basin of water.

The hall was deserted when she entered. She shook out her wet cloak and hung it on a nail beside the door. Reyna walked to the hearth, pleased to see a kettle of water warming on the hearthstone. She picked the kettle up by the handle, carried it into her sleeping alcove
and poured water into a crockery basin sitting on a small table. Then she replaced the kettle on the hearthstone and fetched a drying cloth, a washcloth and soap from a cupboard in the hall, bringing all the items back to her alcove. Grimacing at her bloodstained clothing, Reyna quickly stripped and began to wash.

Wulf paced the length of the hall. He felt restless and strangely unsettled. He vividly recalled the day he had learned Astrid was expecting his babe and how happy he had been. He had given up raiding for Astrid’s sake and had been looking forward to being a father. A jolt of jealousy ripped through him. If Astrid hadn’t been slain, his child and Hagar’s would have been as close as siblings.

Wulf shook the morbid thoughts from his head. He had no child. He had no wife. He had naught but a Dane thrall who drove him mad with wanting.

A short time later Hagar joined Wulf. He carried his sleeping babe in the crook of his arm, waxing poetic about the boy, whom he had named Rollo after their father. Wulf voiced his admiration and chucked the lad under the chin like a doting uncle.

A sudden flow of thralls into the hall, all of them dripping water, alerted Wulf to the rain pounding outside. He rose, deciding it was time to return home. He briefly looked in on Olga before bidding Hagar and his new nephew good-bye and dashing out the door into the pouring rain.

As Wulf sprinted across the yard, his thoughts returned to Reyna. Would he find her asleep? he wondered. She certainly deserved a rest after her heroic deed today. Reyna had endeared herself to his entire family. What was he going to do with her? The gods were conspiring
against him. If he had a shred of decency, he would return immediately to Hagar’s hall and leave Reyna in peace. He flashed a wicked grin and kept walking. Promises were made to be broken.

Wulf entered the hall and shook the water off himself like a large dog, sending droplets in every direction. All was silent. Was everyone sleeping? He strode to Reyna’s sleeping alcove. The devil inside him urged him to push aside the curtain and peek inside.

He froze when he saw a nude Reyna, bending over a small trunk, the round globes of her enticing bottom tempting him beyond endurance. His body went instantly hard, his rigid cock standing nearly upright. Wulf regarded the shape of her bottom like an artist studying a piece of priceless art. So white, so perfect, he couldn’t repress the groan that sounded in his throat. Reyna could tempt one of those statues made of stone he had seen in Byzantium, and he most definitely was not made of stone.

Wulf didn’t move, could scarcely breathe. His chest felt constricted; his blood surged hot and ravenous through his veins. His reaction was immediate and spontaneous. He was a Norseman; it wasn’t in his nature to deny himself when he wanted something as fiercely as he wanted Reyna.

Reyna must have heard him groan for she whipped around. Her lush lips fell open when she saw him standing just inside the curtain. She dove for the bed, pulling a wolf fur up to her chin.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“As you can see, I am fine.”

“More than fine,” Wulf said in a strangled voice. He moved closer to the bed, dripping water on the floor.

Reyna eyed him ner vous ly. “You are soaked. You should get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death.”

Wordlessly, Wulf began to remove his clothing, tossing the wet garments on the floor. He glanced at Reyna; she was biting her lip and frowning. Cool air hit his heated skin and he shivered, more from anticipation than from cold.

“Stop! Why are you undressing?” Reyna gasped.

“You advised me to get out of my wet clothes, and I am.”

“Not here! Go away. You promised you wouldn’t attempt to seduce me again.”

Wulf shrugged his shoulders. “I lied.”

Reyna found it impossible not to stare at Wulf. She tingled with the thrill of his nearness, and her resolve to resist faltered slightly, for he radiated soul-gripping power. He was breathtaking, tall and commanding and powerfully built from head to toe. The flowing swell of his chest muscles, the flat brown circles of his masculine nipples, the rippling tendons of his abdomen and trim waist mesmerized her. Not to mention the size of his sex; it grew and thickened as her wayward gaze settled on that part of his body.

“You want me, Reyna.”

Gripped by the compelling potency of his silver gaze, Reyna gulped hard and closed her eyes. “No, I do not want
that
to happen again. Go away. I do not trust myself, and I trust you even less.”

“Why are you deliberately denying us what we both want? Relax; I will not do anything you do not want me to do.”

Her eyes flew open. “I have heard that before, Wulf
the Ruthless, from your own lips. You know how
that
ended.”

His fire and ice eyes gleamed with an unholy light. “Aye, I dream of it often.”

Reyna recognized his determination and struggled desperately to control her wayward body. She didn’t want to be Wulf’s slave, obliged to obey his commands. But she didn’t know how long she could keep on fighting. Right now she was so physically exhausted and so weary of fighting both Wulf and her own body’s desire that she could scarcely summon the strength to resist. So she decided to try a new approach.

She tossed the fur aside, baring her body, and went limp. “Go ahead, take what you want. What ever you do will be accomplished without my compliance. I will not respond, nor will I give you any pleasure.”

The possessive gleam in Wulf’s eyes should have warned her that she was doomed to failure. His voice had never sounded so confident. “I vow you will scream for me to take you, no matter what you say now.”

“I will hate you afterward.”

“You hate me now.”

Not true
, Reyna wanted to shout, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply.

Reyna gasped as she realized he had moved and was kneeling between her legs. It had happened so swiftly, she didn’t have time to roll off the bed. “Stop,” she said, sounding weak and ineffectual even to her own ears. “Do not…”

But there was no stopping him. When Wulf leaned in and kissed her, she imagined flames shooting from the top of her head.

So much for resisting the ruthless Norseman
, Reyna thought as she tasted Wulf’s tongue and explored his
mouth with her own. Her resolve had been trampled beneath his fierce determination. Even as he kissed her, his hands were working magic on her body.

She could feel him parting her slick folds, sliding his fingers inside her, working them in and out. And then he scooted down and opened his warm, moist mouth over her, drawing her sensitive, swollen bud into an intimate kiss that made her world spin on its axis.

“Do you really want me to stop?”

“Aye. I will hate both of us if we continue. Why do you torment me like this when you know I cannot resist you?”

“Because you are mine, and I want you.”

His answer did not please her. Instead, it reminded her that she was Wulf’s slave. If they could change places, she would prove to him that belonging body and soul to another person was humiliating and demeaning.

Her thoughts scattered when she felt his tongue, pleasantly rough, delving deep inside her core, then rubbing over the most sensitive part of her, moving faster, deeper, even as his hands fondled her breasts and teased her nipples.

At this particular moment, hating Wulf was a dim memory. She felt an undeniable urge to raise her hips and wrap her legs around him. Abruptly Reyna recalled her vow to lie unmoving beneath him as a way to thwart his seduction. With Herculean effort, she relaxed her body, willing her mind anywhere but on Wulf’s ravaging mouth and agile hands.

It didn’t work. Wulf would have none of it. Even as his tongue worked its magic, he plunged two fingers deep inside her, sliding them in and out, raising her level of passion without a shred of shame on his part. When he began moving his tongue in tight circles around her swollen bud, the darkness behind her eyeballs exploded
into sparkling white stars and she spiraled upward to touch them.

Wulf surged over her, impaling her on his rigid staff, pumping vigorously, again and again. He filled her in strong surges. He touched the deepest part of her, sending fire straight to her womb. She heard him groan in an agony of need, of desperation, and then felt him shudder.

His groans escalated as he drove hard, pushed deep, filling her to bursting. Then she felt herself spiraling upward again, reaching higher and surrendering to another climax even more explosive than the first.

Holding her thighs in his big hands, lifting her, pounding inside her, he cried out as his staff jerked, riding her all the way to completion.

Silent tears rolled down Reyna’s cheeks. Wulf had done it again. Despite her vow to resist, despite her promise to lie woodenly beneath him, she had allowed him to carry her to Valhalla, that place of eternal bliss. A sob escaped her throat as she pushed him away. He pulled out willingly enough, but when his arm came around her to draw her against him, she lashed out at him.

“Leave me! You got what you wanted. You broke your promise, Wulf the Ruthless.”

Wulf sighed heavily. “I could not help myself. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Free me! Let me return to my family.”

“Never!” Wulf growled with fierce determination.

“One day, Wulf the Ruthless, you are going to regret enslaving me. I wish…”

“What do you wish?”

“I wish our situations were reversed, that one day you will understand how it feels to be a slave.”

Laughing, Wulf rolled off the bed and snatched up his
wet clothing. “Wish all you like, Reyna the Dane, for that will never happen.” Then he was gone.

Reyna stared at the curtain through which Wulf had disappeared. There were times when she truly hated the big Norseman, and this was one of them.

The rain continued for two days, a harbinger of the bleak winter days that Reyna dreaded. Being cooped up with Wulf in his hall during the long days and nights to come did not bode well for her peace of mind. Even more depressing, escape would be impossible with snow piled up to the roof, and rescue even less likely. Though Reyna held virtually no hope of escaping, to give up wasn’t in her nature. She had come a long way from Constantinople and was so close to home she could almost taste freedom.

Almost…

So near yet so far. Wulf stood squarely in the way of her returning to her homeland again. And though she knew he wouldn’t physically hurt her, her heart was bound to suffer if she let him continue to make love to her. She would not allow herself to care for Wulf while she was suppressed under the yoke of slavery. Wulf cared only for the pleasure she brought him in bed, not for her as a person. If he truly cared, he would free her.

Reyna spent long hours in the stillroom, pro cessing herbs and roots into ointments, salves and potions. She also spent time in Hagar’s hall caring for Olga, who was not recovering as rapidly as she should. Thora had asked Reyna to sleep in Hagar’s hall until Olga regained
her strength, and Reyna readily agreed. If nothing else, it thwarted Wulf’s plans for using her to slake his lust.

When Reyna thought of Wulf bedding Uma, however, a mysterious pain in the region of her heart gripped her. Nevertheless, Reyna remained determined to guard her body and protect her heart from her arrogant Norse master.

The rains finally ceased and the sun came out; though the air was chilly, it was still pleasant compared to the past dismal days. Reyna had pro cessed all the herbs, roots and bark in the stillroom and decided today would be a perfect time to gather the plants that had been left behind during her earlier excursion.

Wulf frowned when Reyna explained her intention to venture forth into the forest again. “I will accompany you, of course.”

When Reyna protested, Wulf reminded her of the wild boar they had encountered previously. “Very well. Can we leave immediately, before the weather turns?”

Wulf fetched a variety of weapons and they hiked off across the fields, a basket swinging from Reyna’s arm. Despite the sunshine, the air was cool and invigorating. Reyna found a patch of red clover, used to calm colicky babies, and stooped to dig it out. Farther on, she came across some burdock and plucked off the leaves and flowers. When they entered the damp darkness of the forest, Wulf kept a hand on his sword while Reyna knelt beside a patch of mint.

Wulf stared moodily at Reyna as she worked. He had seen little of her these past few days. She had gone out of her way to avoid him, and his mother hadn’t helped when she asked Reyna to sleep in Hagar’s hall to care for Olga during her slow recovery.

Did Reyna really hate him? He supposed she had
every right to dislike him. Despite his promise, he had seduced her…and enjoyed every minute of it.

Wulf didn’t understand Reyna’s persistent pleas to be released. She had no onerous duties, she was virtually free to come and go anywhere on the farmstead she pleased, and his family was fond of her.

If she were free, Reyna might leave him or choose another man to protect her. It did not occur to Wulf to wonder why he felt so possessive of Reyna. His mind refused to delve into the reason he was so attracted to her. He only knew he would not let her go. Dane or not, Reyna pleased him in every way.

Wulf was so caught up in his troubling thoughts about Reyna that he didn’t hear the whisper of footsteps behind him. Only when the hair on the back of his neck prickled in warning did he whip out his sword and spin around. But by then it was too late. The last thing he recalled was an explosion of pain in his head and then blackness.

Reyna sniffed the fragrant mint, placed it in her basket and rose. “My basket is full, Wulf. We can leave now.”

Silence.

“Wulf?” No answer was forthcoming. She spun around, shocked to see Wulf lying unconscious on the ground. She opened her mouth to scream, then clamped her mouth tightly shut when her gaze rose from Wulf to settle on three men standing nearby. She gave a cry of gladness and ran into the outstretched arms of her eldest brother Borg.

“Borg, you came for me,” Reyna sobbed into his neck.

“Did you think we would not, little sister?”

It was her youngest brother, Dag, who spoke.

“Dag, you are here too!”

“Aye, and Ragnar. We brought sailors and warriors with us in case we were forced to do battle. They are hiding in the forest, waiting for our signal to move on the farmstead. But you have made it easy for us, little sister. You came to us.”

Reyna smiled at her brothers through a veil of tears. “How did you know where to find me?”

“ ’twas not easy,” Borg replied. “We had all but given up on you. When we embarked on a voyage to Constantinople this past summer, we learned about the beautiful Dane slave girl who had just recently been sold on the auction block. After a little persuasion, the slave trader gave up your name and the name of the Norseman who bought you. He also said that Hagar the Red bought you for his brother, Wulf the Ruthless. We already knew that Wulf the Ruthless was the Norseman who’d raided our home. So here we are. We came prepared to attack the farmstead once we learned for sure that you were there.”

Ragnar, her betrothed, stepped forward and briefly hugged Reyna. All three men had long dark hair and were big and brawny, though not as brawny as Wulf, Reyna noted.

“I almost gave up on you but your brothers convinced me you were alive and persuaded me to come with them,” Ragnar explained. Their gazes met and then his slid away. “Are you well?”

“Aye, I am well, Ragnar.”

Ragnar poked Wulf with his boot and raised his spear. “Shall I kill him for you?”

Kill Wulf?
No, she did not want Wulf to die. “No, leave him be.”

“He hurt you, Reyna; he deserves to die,” Dag pointed out.

“He did me no physical harm,” Reyna asserted.

Ragnar sent her a skeptical look. “Is he not Wulf the Ruthless, the same Norseman who raided your farmstead, ravished you and sold you in Byzantium? Are you not his thrall?”

“Wulf did not assault me. ’twas another. You will be happy to know I refused to be subjugated to his will and never considered myself his thrall. We should leave before he awakens. He is a formidable warrior.”

“I agree with Dag and Ragnar,” Borg said. “Kill him.”

Ragnar raised his arm again, aiming his spear directly at Wulf’s heart. Reyna’s own heart nearly stopped. She hadn’t saved Wulf’s life only to see it taken away by her former betrothed. She stepped in front of Ragnar. “Stop! I…I want the Norseman for my slave. I want him to learn how demeaning it is to be owned by another person. Death is too easy an end for him.”

Borg laughed. “So my sister wants revenge, does she? What say you, Dag? Shall we let her have the Norseman? It will not be easy for him to assume the yoke of slavery and bow to the wishes of a woman.”

Dag shrugged. “If that is what Reyna wants, then let her have him.”

Wulf woke to find himself bound hand and foot, lying in the bottom of a ship. Rain pelted his face with icy pellets as the ship skipped before the wind at a furious pace. His head felt as if it had been split in two and he could feel the sting of blood in his eyes.

It occurred to Wulf that he was in a very precarious position. A dozen or more armed men sat in the ship, taking him only Thor knew where. Then he remembered Reyna. Had she been taken captive too? He could see little save for angry gray skies above him and men seated on either side of him as the wind carried the dragonship through the choppy water.

Who were these men who had captured him? Had they come to his homeland seeking slaves? Had they raided his farmstead, murdered his family? Not knowing was killing him. Never had he felt so helpless.

“Are you cold, Reyna?” he heard one of the men ask, in the language of her people. Fortunately Wulf could understand the Dane tongue.

“I am fine, Dag. The furs you brought along are keeping me warm.”

“Father and Mother will be happy to see you, little sister.”

“They are alive?” Reyna asked joyfully.

“They are, but for a time we all thought
you
were dead, or out of our reach. The gods have favored us.”

Sister?

These men had come for Reyna? Questions crowded his mind. Why had he been kept alive?

“It appears your thrall is coming around, Reyna.”

Thrall? Were they referring to him?
He
was Reyna’s thrall?

Her voice came from behind him. His position prevented him from looking at her no matter how he twisted his head. All he got for his effort was a sharp pain behind his eyes.

“Reyna,” he croaked.

She was beside him instantly, kneeling near his head. “Are you all right, Wulf?”

“What happened?”

“I warned you my brothers would find me.”

“Are these savages your brothers?”

“Two of them are. Ragnar, my betrothed, came with them. The others are my brothers’ friends. They came along to man the oars and fight if needed.”

“You are unhurt?”

“What do you take us for?” Borg growled. “Reyna is
our sister; we would never hurt her, unlike you, Wulf the Ruthless. You are a vicious despoiler of innocents. You would be dead now if not for Reyna. She wanted you for her thrall and Dag and I were inclined to grant her wish.”

Wulf stared up at Reyna, a fierce scowl darkening his brow. “Is that true, Reyna? Am I your thrall?”

“So it would seem,” Reyna replied. “Do not complain, Wulf—’tis better than the fate my brothers intended for you.”

“I am not so sure of that,” Wulf growled in a tone that promised dire retribution. “You will not find me a willing thrall, or an easy one to handle.”

“I am confident one of us can ‘whip’ you into shape,” Dag quipped.

Another voice joined in. “You took from Reyna what rightfully belonged to me. I would have slain you without a qualm had Reyna not asked that you be spared and bound to her in slavery. ’twill be a far crueler fate than death.”

Wulf made a gurgling sound in his throat, aware that the man who had just spoken must be Reyna’s betrothed. He had never felt so powerless in his life. His head was pounding and all this talk of slavery was just beginning to sink in.

“You are wrong, Ragnar,” Reyna protested. “Wulf is guilty of many things, but ravishing me is not one of them.”

“Enough of this,” Borg ordered. “We will sort everything out when we reach our farmstead. But no matter what, Wulf the Ruthless will be punished for his insult to our sister.”

The dragonship hugged the shore of Norway, following natural landmarks of mountains, fiords and burial mounds as navigational aids. When darkness fell, they
beached the ship for the night at a secluded spot and made camp. Not daring to light a fire, they ate a meal of smoked fish, cheese and bread before curling up in their furs for the night.

Borg refused to untie Wulf, so Reyna fed him. Then Borg led Wulf into the woods to relieve himself. Humiliation rode Wulf. Never had he felt so shamed.

At first light they returned to the ship and headed due south across the sea to the land of the Danes. Once they reached open water, the stiff breeze carried them forward. The men laid down their oars and raised the square red-and-white-striped sail.

The wind held, and four days later Wulf spotted the Danish coast. The ship sailed into the fjord and docked at a sandy landing. Wulf was unceremoniously hauled from the ship and forced to walk inland, to the farmstead he recalled raiding two summers earlier. Though Reyna walked at his side, he refused to look at her. Not only was he a thrall, but his mistress was a woman who had once been his to command.

The situation was intolerable.

“Oh, the farmstead still stands,” Reyna cried when the many outbuildings of the farmstead came into view.

Borg poked Wulf in the back with his spear. “We rebuilt the buildings that this Norse bastard burned.” He paused, then said, “Reyna, I did not tell you that Father was wounded during the raid. He is well now but still limps from a leg wound that healed badly.”

“And Mother? You did not mention how she fared.”

“Mother fled through the back door. She and our thralls hid in the woods until the raiders left. They looked everywhere for you but you could not be found. Then one of our wounded told them he had seen you lying on the ground, and that a Norseman scooped you up and carried you off.”

“I am sorry we were not there to protect you, little sister,” Dag aplogized. “The Norseman will suffer for assaulting you.”

Reyna darted a furtive glance at Wulf. His blond hair was matted with blood and his silver eyes, sweet Freya, his eyes were boiling cauldrons of rage. Did he not realize she had saved his life? If not for her, he would have been slain where he lay, within sight of his farmstead.

“Wulf did not…hurt me,” Reyna choked out. It was still difficult to talk about the act that had taken her innocence.

“I do not believe you!” Ragnar spat. “Doubtless the Norseman has raped countless innocent women.”

“I am not lying, Ragnar,” Reyna huffed. “Why would I lie about it?”

“Do you deny the Norseman took you to Byzantium and sold you into slavery?” Dag asked.

“No, I cannot deny Wulf sold me to a slave trader,” Reyna admitted.

“Things are not what they seem,” Wulf growled. “Did the Danes care when they raided my farmstead and killed my wife and unborn child? I think not. I but sought revenge for my terrible loss.”

“We are a family of farmers and traders,” Borg shot back. “Did you even care who you were attacking before you raided our farmstead?”

Wulf shrugged. “Danes are Danes. At the time it did not matter who we were raiding. Your farmstead was close to where we happened to beach our ships. You would have done the same in my place.”

“Your excuses are meaningless, Norseman,” Ragnar growled out. “You took my betrothed and used her as your bed slave. Does she carry your bastard in her belly?”

“Ragnar, please stop!” Reyna pleaded. “The past cannot be undone.”