In Thrall to the Viking

by M. E. Sháen

  Halfdan grinned. "But it is so much fun until they do."

  "You will be joining us?"

  "Yes. Soon."

  4

  Once the other man was gone, Halfdan took his foot off my throat. I coughed and rubbed my neck.

  "Well," he sat at the table to pour a cup of ale."Are you thirsty?"

  "You mean to have me drink myself to death?" Disbelief filled me and caused my eyes to blink rapidly.

  He shrugged. "It's one way to die. Is that the way you would choose?"

  I sat up with a wary glance at him. When he didn't move, I climbed unsteadily to my feet, my hand against my temple.

  "Hurt?"

  "Yes."

  "Stop fighting and you won't be hurt more."

  "How very generous,"

  He smirked and gestured to a chair. "Sit."

  I glanced toward the door before taking a seat on the other chair. He pushed a full cup to me.

  "Drink."

  "You are Halfdan of the Danes."

  "Mm, I am."

  I sipped then said, "the cloistered women fear you. Your name is a tale told to scare little children."

  "Should they not, Nerys Elen? Is this not a truth meant to scare?"

  "They had nothing you could use."

  "They have bodies. Bodies are always useful."

  I tipped the drink back and drained it. Could this man say nothing that made sense?

  He laughed as he poured once more.

  "You like it."

  "It means I am doing well,"

  The thought wrinkled my nose. "Doing well? Raping them? Killing them? For what? So you may sell a few into servitude to your men? It is cowardice to attack helpless women who fear men."

  "You do not feel thus."

  "I am not one of them. You heard so already."

  "No," he smiled at me. "You are not. You hate me but you do not fear me."

  "I see nothing worth fearing in you."

  He rose to lean across the table until we were nose-to-nose. "I can give you something to fear. How would that be, vixen?"

  This close I saw the flecks of gold in those gray eyes of his. Gold flecks and amusement at me.

  "I do not fear rape, Halfdan of the Danes. Nor do I fear your cock. I will rip it off should you try it with me."

  He inclined his head to the side. "I do not doubt but that you would try."

  "Your brother will rape the girl."

  He shrugged. "That is not up to me."

  "He will hurt her."

  "Life is full of pain, vixen."

  "I have a name."

  "One I choose not to use."

  "You smell like a pigsty."

  "Hm." He sat back to watch me, his fingers toyed with his empty cup.

  I let this play out a moment and huffed a breath before I snatched the pitcher of ale, batted his hand away from it to refill.

  He grinned.

  "What you expected?" I asked and replaced the pitcher.

  "Nothing is yet what I expect with you."

  "Because you are brainless when it comes to women. You are a pig and a coward."

  "And I smell," he reminded me. "And you talk too much."

  I took a drink of the ale, and let my gaze roam the house as I did.

  Aside from this table and the benches which ran along the longer walls, over the central fire pit hung a cauldron and chains I supposed were for other cooking tools. There were weapons and shields strewn around and furs hung from the rafters.

  Two central posts adorned with carved images held up the roof, and a ladder at the far end went up to a loft I could not see. In the center, across from the fire pit was a boxed-off section with shelves on one side. Upon those shelves rested more tools.

  There was a loom and a spinning distaff near the ladder. All in all, it looked as though many people lived here in an untidy mess.

  "You've no woman."

  "My wife is dead."

  "Children?"

  "Yes. Two."

  I shook my head. "Too bad."

  He laughed. "Which part?"

  It was all too bad to my mind. "And one is a girl."

  He allowed that with a lift of his brow.

  "That is why this place is not a worse wreck."

  He snorted into his cup. "I suppose I ought to keep a thrall around to fuck and clean for me."

  My gaze returned to him and I frowned. "A threat?"

  "An eventuality."

  Now it was my turn to snort. "I will tear your cock off."

  "You might try."

  The fire of anger lit my cheeks. "You will not keep me."

  "There is little choice in the matter for you, vixen. For you see," he gestured around. "I already do."

  "I will slice your throat while you sleep."

  He rose to grab a handful of my hair and pulled me to my feet. "Then I will be forced to keep you chained to my bed to ensure that you do not."

  He shoved me forward and I sprawled on the floor on my hands and knees.

  "Fetch water. Heat it. Fill the tub."

  My head rose and I glared at him through the mess of my hair. "You will still reek. Nothing will wear the stink off you."

  He put his foot beneath my chin and tipped me over. "You will wash me. Perhaps you won't have reason to think I carry a bad stench."

  And with that, he pushed a bucket into my hands and pointed toward the door.

  "You won't escape. Do not try."

  I let out a low growl as I slammed open the door. Outside was a well. I dropped the bucket in to draw water.

  When I returned, he had taken a wooden tub from the wall and placed it before the fire.

  He gestured at the heavy cauldron over the fire. "Fill it,"

  I sighed but dumped the water in.

  "Be quick, vixen."

  He smacked my ass on the way past. I hesitated between steps, thought better of an attack upon him once more, and slammed out the door for more water.

  He watched me fill the cauldron a dozen or more times. Only after it was apparent I would actually do so, did he grab a bucket and help.

  Finally, it was full. I sat at the table to wipe my forehead.

  "Fill the tub."

  "I will," I bared her teeth at him. "Fucking men,"

  He grabbed my arm as I tried to pass. "Show respect." He pinched my lips hard.

  "Ow, damn!" I drew back, hands raised to ward him off.

  He dropped his head to one side as if curious what I would do. I shook my head.

  "Not worth it,"

  He let me go and I started to take buckets of hot water from the cauldron to pour.

  The tub full, I made an exaggerated bow his way.

  "Your bath awaits, pig lord."

  He crossed the room in two steps. "Undress me."

  My mouth actually fell open and I froze. He drew me closer. I went until we were hardly a hands' breadth apart.

  "Undress me,"

  My gaze never left his as I lifted my hands to the tie of his tunic. He smirked, but let me pull it over his head, which bared his upper body.

  He carried the scars of war, some old and some new. I shook my head at his grin, then dropped my hands to his trousers to yank the tie loose and shove the fabric apart to expose his belly.

  "I would cut you here," I mused as I dragged a finger across the lowest part of exposed skin where the hair disappeared into his trousers.

  He jerked at the touch. "Hurry before the water grows cold and I make you do it all again."

  A noise between a snarl and a laugh escaped me. I could not believe him. Surely he knew I would cut him the moment I had a chance?

  I grasped the trousers at either hip and yanked them down to his knees.

  "Don't think of it," he told me before I had a chance to move.

  I knelt on the dirt floor and tugged the boot off his raised foot, then the other when he lifted it to me.

  "You must sit or I will knock you down."

  He sat on the edge of a chair and I pu
lled the trousers off his legs.

  He nodded. "Now you."

  "What?" Flabbergasted, I could only stare up at him. "I will not."

  He stepped in. "You will or I will do it for you."

  "I, you cannot be serious."

  "No?" He snatched the hem of my robe and yanked me to himself. One arm around my waist, he grasped the collar of the robe and ripped it in half to my belly. "Off. Now."

  Shocked into silence, I let the ruined robe drop to the floor. I turned to face him, too aware that we were both naked now.

  He smiled at me."Not so bad, hm?"

  "You are a bastard."

  He shrugged at me as he settled into the water with a groan. "I think you might grow to enjoy me, vixen."

  "I will never like you."

  He curled one finger at me. "In."

  "Oh fuck," I muttered and stepped into the water across from him.

  "Sit."

  The water closed over my hips. I faced him, a murderous gaze on his.

  "Now that isn't so bad."

  "So you keep telling me."

  He laughed. "At least I have not yet raped you, vixen. More, I think, than your sisters can say."

  "Those that still live?" I scoffed. "They would prefer death, pig."

  "Come now, I am kind. You ought to be kind as well."

  I threw my hands up, water droplets splattered him in the face. He grinned at me.

  "What is it that you want me to say? Thank you for not killing me? Raping me?"

  "A good start," he conceded.

  I rolled my eyes so far that he likely only saw white a moment.

  "Thank you, Halfdan, for pillaging the cloister not so many days past and stealing me away from certain death by boredom."

  "You are glad to be gone," he pronounced as he settled against the wall of the tub. "You just do not know how to go about being appreciative."

  "This is not better than that," I pointed out.

  "It is far better than the alternative, do you not agree?"

  He flipped his fingers in the water to splash me.

  "The alternative is death."

  He nodded. "And is this not better?" He tossed a hunk of soap at me. "Wash me."

  "Oh whatever in the god's names?" I caught the soap at its highest apex, then made a motion at him. "Turn."

  He spun to present his back to me. Did I mean to do this? Would I actually wash my captor?

  I paused before I settled my soapy hands to his shoulders. He let out a sigh and relaxed to my ministrations.

  I breathed at his ear, suddenly close as I locked my hands around his throat.

  "I ought to kill you,"

  "Then do it."

  I tightened my grip, and he leaned his head back so that I couldn't choke his breath as he did to me.

  "A knife would end you here and now, Halfdan of the Danes."

  "There are many nearby,"

  I shoved him away and he slid under the water. I had time enough to yelp when he grabbed and pulled me beneath the water.

  I struggled, so he wrapped his arms around me to hold me beneath the water and shoved my head into his crotch.

  Then I was up with a sputter of water and curses for him. I threw myself at him, anger overcame good sense. He seized me in a bear hug so that I could do no more than scratch ineffectively at his chest as I fought.

  "Nerys Elen."

  "Bastard!" My teeth snapped close to his nose.

  He drew back to pull me tighter, forced me to stillness against him.

  We both panted as I struggled and snarled in his arms. He spun so that I was sitting atop him, helpless and no longer able to fight.

  "Nerys. Stop this." He shook me, groaned when my body slipped across his, and he came to rest against the split of my thighs.

  I howled in frustration and struggled again.

  I could not avoid the contact and I felt his arousal instantly. He grabbed me harder to still me.

  "Stop this. I will take you if you do not."

  That did it. I stopped my struggles.

  "Odin, but you are a difficult woman," he breathed. "Do you want me to rape you?"

  "No."

  "Then stop moving. Do you not know what it does?"

  The fight went out of me and I relaxed. We sat that way in silence, his erection pressed against me. He would take what was not his, I thought.

  He smoothed a hand down my arm. "Good. Much better. You will wash me and dress me. We will go to the mead hall to feast. Perhaps you will not be raped yet."

  5

  Halfdan kept his wife's old clothes stashed in a chest near the back wall. He must have decided I was of a size to her as he settled on an outfit and turned toward me.

  I stood, naked and shivering, as close to the fire as I dared. He had chained me to one of the bed poles by one ankle. He tossed the bundle of clothing to me and I caught it.

  "This."

  "Terrific," I muttered.

  "The words you seek are thank you."

  I shot him a sneer as I tugged the shirt over my head. He nodded approval, then threw a girdle at me to cinch tight.

  I saw his gaze drop to my breasts, and he sighed, then bent to free my ankle.

  "Dress. Now."

  I wasted no time shoving my legs into the pants. I was cold and no longer wanted his stare on me. I heard him grunt before he turned away.

  "Shoes?"

  With a sigh, he tossed boots to me. He grabbed a cup of ale while I tugged them on.

  "Halfdan."

  He lifted his head to stare over the rim of his cup.

  "Thank you."

  One side of his mouth rose in a smile. "You are welcome, Nerys Elen."

  He drained the cup, then crossed to me, bent, and clapped the iron around my ankle once more.

  "In case you get any ideas."

  My eyes widened but I said nothing.

  He gave the chain a little tug. "Let's go."

  I had no choice but to follow him, or he would simply drag me. I think he knew that I understood how it would be.

  He didn't speak to me as we crossed the dirt road that wound between the fences and houses.

  In the darkness of night, there were many torches aflame lighting the way. As before, he was greeted by many who seemed to be headed to the mead hall.

  He walked as though he owned the place and went up and on the porch without hesitation.

  The moment he entered the room, the men erupted with cheers.

  The place was already hot and steamy, and many were well on their way to drunk. The women lounged sat atop their men, their own drinks in hand. I caught my breath as I took in the scene.

  This mead hall was far taller than Halfdan's house and beams ran both with the walls and across the open space above us. A set of narrow stairs at the far end of the room rose to a loft where yet more men drank and caroused. Directly over us a woman hung by her wrists. She was naked save a fur that did little to cover her body. Both captivated and disgusted, I could only stare.

  "Sister Elizabeth," I whispered.

  He glanced at me. "It is better not to look."

  "Easy to say," I murmured. "Hard to unsee."

  He nodded. If he understood the sentiment, I got no other clue.

  I turned my gaze away as he tugged me to his side. His eyes followed where I now looked to find that I watched his brother and the timid woman from before.

  "Her name?"

  "Mathilda,"

  "She is a friend?"

  I sighed. "She was kind to me where others were not."

  "Eowils will have his way with her if he has not already. I will ensure she is sold instead of having her throat slit."

  "For what?" I looked up at him. "This is hell to her. Why make her suffer?"

  He studied me a long moment and then handed me a knife. "If it matters that much, kill her. That would send her to her god, yes?"

  I could only blink at the finely wrought metal he offered. The handle was meant for a woman's hand, wrought of a
single piece of bone, the edge of the blade honed to a sharpness that would cut most anything. I thumbed the handle, lost in thought.

  He gestured with the knife. "Go on. Take it."

  "You want me to kill her?"

  He shrugged. "It is all the same to me, Nerys Elen. She is your friend. Many would believe her death to be a kindness."

  He canted his head back the way we'd come, reminded me without words of the woman yet hanging above us.

  I touched it again, almost convinced he would turn it on me. When he did not, I grasped the bone handle in a way that came naturally. He nodded, seemingly to himself.

  I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He nodded again.

  "Go on."

  "And if I do not?"

  "She is your friend."

  Eowils had risen to wave Halfdan over, the woman now held against his chest with one of his massive arms stayed limp.

  "Now is your chance," he said to me as we walked across the room and through the press of drunk men.

  He walked before me, and offered his back should I wish to kill him instead. But I did not.

  "Brother! That bitch still lives?"

  Halfdan grinned widely. "She does," he agreed, as he took the seat next to Eowils. He tugged the chain and I went to his side.

  Eowils laughed uproariously. "You trained her already?"

  Halfdan shook his head and accepted a mug from someone. "No. She would as soon see me dead as anything." He gestured at Mathilda as Eowils planted her on his lap. "And her? How fares she?"

  Eowils shrugged. "A poor lay, a worse cook. What is with the women on that land, Halfdan? Are they all so meek and unworthy?"

  Halfdan glanced at me. I stared blatantly at Eowils, mouth working over words I am certain he could guess without hearing.

  He gave me another tug to draw me close. "He is my brother," he reminded in a soft voice directly into my ear. "You would be wise to stop that line of thought now."

  I shook myself like a dog and edged away.

  Eowils gave him a hard look and Halfdan nodded towards the knife gripped in my left hand. Instantly, Eowils leaned to him.

  "What is this?" He asked under his breath as I edged closer to Mathilda.

  "A test."

  Eowils frowned. "You have a strange idea about women,"

  Halfdan just shrugged, a gentle smile on his mouth. "We shall see."