In Thrall to the Viking

by M. E. Sháen

  “Halfdan,”

  “Vixen.”

  “Are all men so full of lust as this?”

  “Yes.”

  I let him push her onto the bed, laughing when he climbed behind me to bite at me through my skirts.

  “Tell me one thing.” I wrapped my arms around him to draw him down among the furs. “Does it ever stop?”

  “No.”

  He climbed atop me to subdue me beneath his body. I smiled up at him.

  “Good.”

  24

  The next morning, Halfdan woke while I was still wrapped in his arms. He later told me it was the feeling of eyes on him that made him open his own and he found Blythe standing over the bed.

  “Master, Erick is here.”

  He blinked at her, confused a moment.

  “What?”

  “Erick has come.”

  He rose from the bed and turned and Blythe spun away from him, but not before her gaze had dropped across him. He said it brought a smirk to his face and he knew all their words and beliefs did not differ from his own.

  He had to dig in the furs for his trousers, and if I knew him at all, he made it take far longer than it ought.

  He enjoyed her discomfort and her red face when he strode past her to the door and Erick.

  “Halfdan! She said you still slept.”

  He rubbed his head. “The sun is not yet up, Erick.”

  “No, but it will be.”

  And that, Halfdan thought, was something he could not argue. He settled into a chair. “Is there something you want?”

  “I came for Blythe.”

  “She is yours,”

  “Yes. She helped you. I think you have helped her?”

  “Nerys Elen perhaps. She has little enough use for me, that one.”

  “So she can come back to me now.”

  “If that is the way you would have it. Of course.”

  Erick leaned toward him. “She still speaks prayers all day?”

  “No, not so much anymore. She has become useful. A good part of a household.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “That is good. Perhaps she could learn the art of tar?”

  “I suppose.” He inclined his head at his friend. “You would put her to good use, then?”

  “Yes. No reason not to, is there?”

  “No, no reason at all. Will you spend the winter building ships?”

  “I’ve new ideas, Halfdan. New and better ways, yes.”

  “If I bring you payment, how many might you build for me?”

  “How many would you need?”

  “Say five. For now.”

  “What plan have you?”

  “It is not yet determined. But I will have need of boats.”

  “Yes. Yes.” He nodded. “Blythe will learn and I will build.”

  “Good.” He rose to find that Blythe already had the few items she owned tucked together into a roll. “You are ready, then?”

  She nodded but didn’t speak. She rarely spoke to Halfdan.

  “Nerys Elen will visit you, yes?”

  She nodded once more. “And the children?”

  He shrugged. “If they wish it.”

  Now she gave him a small smile and a nod.

  He said he was glad of it. Perhaps she would be good for Erick, be useful. He watched as Blythe let Erick take her bundle. Then they were gone, and he left to start his day.

  I woke to an empty house. It took little time to discover Blythe’s absence.

  Halfdan lifted his head as I stomped across the yard, then drew closer, turned his gaze back to the log before him.

  He hefted the axe overhead, then brought it down to split the log in two pieces that dropped to either side of the stump. He bent to retrieve the pieces.

  “Halfdan!” Anger laced my voice.

  He set another log on the stump, then met my gaze.

  “What have you done?”

  He leaned the axe on the stump a moment. “Nothing?”

  “Where is Blythe, you bastard?”

  “Erick got her this morning. You were yet sleeping. Why?” He settled the axe in his hands once more.

  “You let her go?” I stopped across from him. “You let her go back to Erick?”

  The axe fell once more, the wood sailed to either side of the stump.

  “Blythe is not my thrall, Nerys Elen. You know this. He came to claim what is his by right.”

  I gaped at him, curled my hands into fists. He bent, retrieved one piece of firewood, threw it onto the pile, then set yet another log on the stump.

  “He will abuse her!”

  He sighed, raised the axe again. “It is not my concern, Nerys Elen. I have no claim to her.”

  “You could not even seek to purchase her?”

  He snorted and brought the axe overhead. “And have my own coin back for her? I think not. Have you no other work to occupy your time?”

  “I, I, she is fourteen summers!”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You would allow a man like Erick to paw your daughter’s thighs?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “No.” One brow rose. “Blythe is not my blood, vixen. You will do well to remember it.”

  “She is too young, Halfdan. I would not allow it were it Frida!”

  “Nor would I, but it is Blythe.” He gave me a sly look. “You are so cross. Is it the time of your dark blood?”

  I stomped my foot and stared daggers at him from beneath my brows. The idea of snatching the axe from his hands and cutting his head off crossed my mind.

  He picked up the firewood, retrieved another log.

  “Halfdan Hringrson, you are so witless you mistake honor for air and think you may just lift your chest without putting in the effort.”

  He reached out and snatched me by the braid as I spun to leave. “Be not in such haste, vixen.”

  He yanked me across the stump. I stumbled into him, and he smacked me across the ass hard enough to push me against him.

  I bared my teeth, drew back, and punched him in the mouth.

  More surprised than hurt, he let go with a shake of his head. I tripped over the stump and caught myself with a spin that put me out of the reach of his hands.

  He snatched at me again, trying to catch my hair once more, but I danced backward and out of his grasp.

  “Nerys Elen!” Angry now too, he lunged at me.

  I skittered out of his range. I went too far by insulting him. He tried to bowl me over and I ran. He gave chase.

  “I will catch you, Nerys Elen, and I will beat that smart mouth out of you!”

  I had a good lead on him and rounded the house as Eowils and Bjorn stepped onto the porch.

  “Is this normal?” Eowils asked the boy as they watched Halfdan chase me around the side of the house.

  I was quick and the distance between us lengthened despite his greater size and length of leg.

  “I will lock you out, bitch!”

  I stopped and spun to face him. “You have no right, Halfdan Hringrson! I am the mistress of keys of this house by your own say so!”

  He caught up to me, grabbed my arm before I could run again, and swept my feet out from under me with his leg. His fingers bit into the flesh of my upper arm as I fell, and he hoisted me up and against himself.

  “You will speak not another word against me or I will turn you over the fence and beat you in sight of all.”

  I snarled up at him, then spit at him.

  He shut his eyes a moment before grabbing my face with his free hand.

  “Open your mouth.”

  I shook her head, still glaring at him.

  “Open your mouth or I will do it for you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I closed my hands around his arm, the nails digging into his skin until he hissed in pain.

  “You will not speak of me in that manner, Nerys Elen.” Breathless, each word a growl as he shook me.

  I pushed into him and he caught me to lift off my feet once more and hold with
one arm beneath my hips so I could not kick him.

  We stared at one another in silence, chests heaving, the anger of moments before slipping out of reach.

  There was no surprise left when I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed my open mouth to his. I forced my tongue between his lips.

  With a grunt, he grabbed handfuls of my hair to hold me still and kissed me harder, the last swirl of anger devolving to desire In an instant against my mouth.

  He let go to yank my skirts out of the way, then shoved his trousers aside, lifted me, and impaled me on his cock.

  I howled and threw my head back so he pulled me to him, fingers twisted into my braid to kiss me again.

  “Halfdan, yes,”

  He cupped my head in his hand, drew me into another kiss.

  “It is simpler if you,” he broke off with a grunt when I drove my hips into his, “if you just ask for it, vixen.”

  He lowered his head to my neck and bit, making my back arch to him. He groaned and bit harder, stumbled, and fell to his knees.

  I shoved him to his back, following to lick his mouth as my hips ground against his.

  “Nerys Elen,”

  I let my head drop to his neck, and he pressed his hands to my back, fingers grasping the fabric of my dress to yank it higher.

  He huffed out a breath when my feet dug into his thighs as I sought for purchase to drive against him, to force him deeper.

  He flipped us over and pushed my thighs up until my legs slipped over his shoulders.

  I panted his name, dug my nails into his back and tried, again and again, to lift my hips with him, to meet the rabid assault he had become.

  I froze beneath him, eyes wide when he met my gaze. My head dropped back into the dirt and I stretched beneath him, lifting him off the ground as an orgasm tore through me. I shrieked in release, a string of obscenities interspersed with his name the only words I could utter.

  He chanted his own obscenities beneath mine, the keen edge of his pleasure driving him until, with a shout that echoed off the trees, he released in long spurts that filled me until it dripped down my thigh.

  He fell off me to gasp for air. I rested my hand on his chest to tug at the ties of his tunic.

  “Do it again, Halfdan Hringrson.” I rolled so that I looked down at him. “Make me yours.”

  I saw him shiver at that, and then he drew me atop him to kiss.

  25

  I met him outside the bathhouse, still damp and glowing from his ritual cleansing.

  He smiled at me in the light dress the women of the village made for me.

  “You are lovely.”

  My smile grew as I touched his chin, stroked his beard.

  “Orlaith tells me that next, we are to stand before Jarl Thorsson and exchange the bride price and dowry. I have nothing to bring to this, Halfdan.”

  He nodded. “You bring yourself, vixen. I need for nothing more in the way of a dowry.”

  My brows knit together. “No wonder your brother finds you crazy.”

  He chuckled. “If it is the case, then so be it. I’ve little care for what others think.”

  My smile was back. I leaned up and kissed him. “We go to town?”

  “Yes.”

  I closed her fingers around his as he led me toward the waiting mare.

  He lifted me onto the horse and climbed astride behind.

  I knew that Orlaith and Eowils would have already taken the children to town. Part of me wanted to remain on the farm, to ignore all the ritual and feasting that the day would bring.

  Part of me looked forward to seeing the village again now that summer had come. And part of me was happy we would be wed, at last.

  It seemed no time until we were standing before Thorsson, on the steps to the longhouse.

  “You have the bride price?”

  Halfdan nodded and dropped a leather pouch into the other man’s hand.

  “She comes with no dowry of her own.”

  It was not a question, and Halfdan did not consider it. He merely shrugged.

  “I have this.”

  His head snapped toward me when I held out my own small pouch.

  “It is perhaps not what would be usual, but it is what I have.”

  If Thorsson were surprised, he hid it better than Halfdan. He took the pouch with a nod.

  Though I didn’t turn my gaze on him, I knew that my husband had a smirk on his face. He breathed out a small laugh.

  “All here witness that Halfdan has paid the bride price of twelve silver pieces and Nerys Elen has brought a dowry.”

  A cheer went up from the crowd that surrounded us. I grinned at him. He shook his head, though his smile was firmly in place.

  Thorsson stepped aside, and the old seer took his place.

  “Halfdan Hringrson, son of Hringr. You bring today a woman to wed.”

  “Nerys Elen, daughter of Coel, has agreed to wed.”

  The old man nodded. “Nerys Elen Coelsdottir and Halfdan Hringrson, the gods require sacrifice for this union.”

  He gestured and two men dragged forth a sow. “Your woman carries your child, Halfdan. She will make the sacrifice.”

  I had long ago learned not to be surprised at what the Oracle knew. If he said I carried a child, then I did.

  I took the offered knife and waited while they brought the sow before us.

  The seer nodded at me. “We ask the god’s attention this day as a son of Odin seeks the wed a woman from across the seas. Odin, Thor, Freyja, and Freyr, we ask that you grant favor on this couple and the sacrifice made at her hand.”

  For a moment, I was certain that I could not kill the sow. My stomach was sour, and I felt sick at the prospect.

  Still, I bent and drew the knife across its throat. Blood spurted from the wound, splattering us all, and the seer nodded.

  “Good, child.”

  Halfdan took a bowl and filled it with blood, then offered it to the seer.

  The old man took the bowl, dipped a bundle of fir twigs into it, and sprinkled blood across both Halfdan and me.

  “The blessings of the gods upon you.”

  Halfdan drew his sword, then knelt and offered it to me. “I offer you my protection, Nerys Elen Coelsdottir. I offer you my sword.”

  I took it, then touched his shoulders so that he rose. Frida took the sword and gave me another one.

  I knelt, gaze up on Halfdan. “I offer my protection, Halfdan Hringrson. I offer you this sword.”

  He took the sword from her and I rose. The seer nodded at us.

  “From these two, one. This union creates a circle within which family and children will grow. To the gods, you have made an offering and from the gods you receive blessings. You offer protection within the circle and so you shall give to each other the sign of that circle.”

  Halfdan turned to me again. He set a ring on the hilt of his sword and offered it. I took it, slipped it onto a finger, then did the same for him.

  “They have exchanged the price. The gods appeased. These two are now one.”

  Cheers erupted around us. He met my dazed gaze with a smile.

  “A feast in honor of Halfdan and his woman!” Thorsson shouted.

  The inside of the longhouse was already hot, the fires burning high. He led me to a chair, then stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders.

  “Halfdan,”

  “It will be done soon,” he murmured against my hair. “Then we may go outside.”

  I nodded.

  “Your woman seeks a vigorous man, Halfdan Hringrson. In you, she ought always to find the strength of Thor.”

  With a smirk, he lowered the large wooden Mjolnir, Hammer of Thor, into my lap to cheers from the crowd.

  “You know this about me already, no?” He whispered in my ear.

  I laughed in reply.

  “Vár witness this feast and watch over this couple as they begin life together.”

  He crossed before me, then took a seat by my side. The seer handed me
an ornate cup of mead. I turned to Halfdan and he made the sign of Thor over it.

  “Odin, your son offers you mead upon his wedding day.”

  He sipped, then handed the cup to me.

  “Freyja, a daughter seeks to give you offering of mead on this, her wedding day.”

  I sipped, gaze locked on his now.

  Thorsson rose. “Halfdan Hringrson and Nerys Elen Coelsdottir have made an agreement before all here that this union is now binding. Feast!”

  He leaned to me to press his head to mine. “It is done. Does it feel different as a wife?”

  “Does it feel different to you?”

  He grinned against my cheek. “It will.”

  I smiled. “Now what?”

  “Now we eat and drink until we are too drunk to stagger home. Six will see us home, witness that we make the union on your thighs.”

  I made a face. “Really?”

  With a laugh, he kissed me. “Yes. They do not have to stay, only long enough to see that we will.”

  26

  Dawn colored the sky. He settled into the furs, seeking my warmth.

  “How do you feel this day, Halfdan?” I asked from my place at the fire.

  He curved a finger at me. “Come find out.”

  I smirked. He rose far enough to yank me onto the bed.

  He kissed me as he drew me atop him.

  “Better, I take it.”

  “Hm.”

  “You feel good?”

  “I am hung over, Halfdan Hringrson. I want to vomit.”

  “Food will help.”

  I groaned but rose with him to dress, then start porridge.

  The same feeling from the day before hit me, and I made a face.

  He eyed me a moment before demanding, “give me the spoon.”

  I handed him the stirring spoon just as I lost the battle.

  I ran past him and out the door, past Eowils who had his hand lifted to knock.

  I made it only as far as the yard before I vomited.

  “Is she ill?”

  “The mead.”

  Eowils sighed and poured a cup for himself. “Brother,”

  “She will feel better after. Eat. I will be back.”