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by Desconhecido

  Back at camp, they secured them both to the same stone. Saibh laid down and Eireann curled around her. She offered her captor a “thank you” smile. He returned it with a slight nod of his head.

  * * * *

  Eirik sprawled out on the sandy grass nearby. “Daylight comes early this time of year. We’d best be up at first light. Hate to get caught napping by a bunch of beardless midlanders! Cedric, make sure the night watch keeps a close eye on those woods. We don’t know what kind of neighbors we’ve got farther inland or if those few who escaped might return.”

  Cedric nodded and rose to check up on the watches.

  Fridgeir looked at his new woman laying with her whole body curled protectively around the younger girl. Torchlight glinted off her eyes as she watched him. For now, he’d keep his desires in check, but he’d like her to get used to him being close to her. She didn’t move as he moved around behind her but he heard her soft intake of breath. When he laid down against her back she felt stiff as a board. He rolled his back against hers and closed his eyes to sleep, never saying a word. He knew she expected him to make good his claim on her. But not yet, not while she still hurt. He doubted even Eirik could bring pleasure to her beaten body. Her fierce determination to protect her sister at all costs impressed him. He smiled to himself, imagining that fierce demeanor during bed sports. Hmm, yeah, it would be worth the wait!

  * * * *

  Eireann waited for him to start with her. She heard his breath even out into sleep. What’s he doing? Doesn’t he want me? Long before the raiders took her, she’d grown used to men wanting her. She’d learned well how to use that. But this one confused her. He seemed to want her but then held back. Why? He acted nothing like the savage Northman she expected. Well, when they’d attacked the raiders they’d certainly lived up to their bloodthirsty reputation. But they hadn’t just fallen on all the women like beasts. Unlike the raiders, whose leader had to smack more than one man for touching the young and valuable virgins. She shivered at the memory. He’d thrown the merchant’s older slave woman to them and they’d raped her until she passed out then tossed her over the side to drown. The leader had let his men at Eireann to break her spirit. Said she’d be worth more as whore if she didn’t have any fight left. And they hadn’t talked with her at all. What’s this Northman up to? What does claiming me mean? Why keep me at his side like a companion at dinner? It makes no sense. Aren’t Northmen savage and brutal killers? She suppressed a shiver. Some said they sacrificed young girls to their bloodthirsty gods. But she knew they also held to their word. And they’d promised to protect her sister. She sighed. Maybe in the morning it would make more sense. She let the gentle lapping of waves on the shore sooth her off to sleep.

  * * * *

  Eirik lay staring at the stars a while. The lapping of waves on the side of the Fire made a soothing lullaby. In all, he felt the day had gone well. A good haul with no casualties and his friend found a woman who just might be able to handle him. Eirik smiled to himself. He loved Fridgeir like a brother but the man did have a hard time with women. They seemed to like him as a friend but he’d had few bedmates for more than a few months. Even his previous attempts with slaves hadn’t ended well. Eirik drew a breath and sent a silent plea to the gods to help Fridgeir out. He rolled to his side and sought the quiet of sleep.

  Eirik dreamed.

  They lay on soft sand in a sparkling cave. He ran his hands through her silky hair, the light chasing flames across it. Her soft hands caressed his chest and teased his nipples, sending tingling need lower. He breathed in her scent, heavy with the musk of desire. Her breasts pressed against his chest and one leg draped over his. He caressed the smooth silky skin along her arm, her back and down over firm buttocks.

  “I’ll give you all I have, all I am—but I need you to fill me with your strength.” Her voice was a sultry breath in his ear. She lipped his earlobe and slithered her hand down his chest to his hard cock. He moaned softly as she stroked him. He stared into startling green eyes that closed slowly in pleasure as he caressed her breast. She gasped and laid back.

  “Please, give me your strength!” she pleaded as she pulled at him. He slid onto her, parting her legs, seeking her soft, warm womanhood. He gasped in pleasure as he stroked strongly into her. She moaned softly and rose to meet each thrust.

  Eirik jerked awake, breathing hard and his cock throbbing. A feeling of portent called up his fire, making his need more urgent. By the height of the moon, dawn still lay a few marks off. He got up and headed into the brush to finish what the dream had started. He failed to notice the fading glow leaking from his belt pouch. He went in a ways, listening for the sounds of the watchers posted nearby. He found a secluded spot and loosened his pants, leaning against a tree trunk as if taking a leak. He stroked himself firmly while replaying the dream in his mind. He closed his eyes. He could feel her, smell her but other than her oddly green eyes, couldn’t remember what she looked like. His cock throbbed with need and his fire burned. He called up the feel of the dream, of stroking into her. His breath heaved and his body tensed. Another firm stroke and he jerked with release. That’s when he remembered—he’d had this dream before. Years before as a boy just coming into manhood. Only then, she’d promised to be his queen as well as giving him all of herself. And she’d demanded more than asked that he give her his strength. He shook his cock off and put it up, fastening his pants back. His mind ran through the dream over and over, comparing it to what he remembered from before. Eirik walked back and settled back down among his sleeping companions. Before reaching any real understanding, sleep claimed him once again.

  Chapter 3

  Day 2, next morning

  Fridgeir woke suddenly. An unfamiliar body lay next to him on the soft sandy grass. It took him a moment to remember who it was. He smiled and rolled up against her back. His arm draped over her and he pulled her close to nuzzle against her neck. She smelled of old sweat and dried blood but felt warm and inviting.

  She woke with an obvious surge of panic. He held her tightly as she struggled to bite or strike him.

  “Easy, wild one. Not trying to hurt you.” He chuckled into her ear. She glared up at him with a wild look in her eyes.

  “I’m going to let go now. Behave.” He carefully let go. He’d have to be more careful next time not to trigger a panicked attack from her.

  Eirik rose and stretched, then turned to his men. “I want what we’re taking loaded on the Fire!”

  * * * *

  Floki and Knut stomped up. Floki set himself defiantly in front of Eirik. “Eirik. He hasn’t made good his claim. I want her!” He issued the demand with a raised chin, his gaze glued on Eireann sitting with her sister wrapped protectively in her arms once more.

  Fridgeir’s eyes narrowed. “Did you take a good look at her? There’d be no sport to bedding her! She’s bruised and abused from one end to the other.” His cloak covered most of her body but her face told a tale of repeated beatings. Swollen lips, a large swell over one eye and plenty of purple bruises showed through the grime covering her.

  Eirik heaved a sigh. “Get her cleaned up. I’ll see if her injuries suffice for an exception.”

  “Injuries during capture don’t count!” Floki protested.

  “Her injuries occurred before we took her. They do count!” Arinbjorn retorted for his friend and shield partner.

  Eireann held very still with her sister tight in her arms. She didn’t quite understand what they meant by making good his claim or exceptions. Likely had to do with him not taking her last night and that confused her even more. Why hadn’t he if it were so important to them? Did he really care if he hurt her? That made no sense from what she knew of the savage Northmen. But these other two, the way they looked at her, she had no doubt they would satisfy their urges regardless of how much it hurt her.

  Eirik spoke firmly. “It’s my call, unless you want to challenge me?” He looked at Floki evenly. The smaller warrior shook his head no. Eirik turned t
o Fridgeir. “Get her cleaned up so we can see what the damage is but I can already tell you from the way she smells, I’ll likely grant it.”

  Knut and Floki looked confused but Fridgeir just nodded before asking. “What does that vaunted nose of yours have to say?”

  “Aside from the obvious old blood and dirt, I smell puke…” He paused and closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply. “Not sure if from being beaten or if they gave her enough whore bane to make her sick. Sweat—hers, and at least five maybe six, different men left their smell behind. Some also left their seed in her and on her and at least a couple of them pissed on her just for fun…” He paused a moment more. “Some of that might be hers since I doubt they let her off that pole once they got her there. She’s more than just a little bruised. Frankly, I’m surprised she’s still on her feet and full of fight.”

  Knowing she listened, he didn’t add that he worried she could be injured enough inside that it would eventually kill her or leave her so scarred she’d never enjoy bed sports again. There was nothing they could do anyway, not with out a skilled healer.

  Knut and Floki both looked surprised. Floki stammered. “You can tell all that by her smell? How many men had at her and all?”

  Eirik shrugged. “I could tell more if I got closer but I’d rather not until she’s had a good soaking! Fridgeir.” Eirik nodded toward her. “Call me when you’re done.”

  Fridgeir toed her. “Get up, woman. Bath time!” He grinned with anticipation. He released her chain and hauled her to her feet.

  Eireann stood as best she could with her feet still bound. How can this man they call Eirik know what happened to me just by my smell? Although he’d underestimated the number of men and a few of them had taken her more than once. She tried to follow Fridgeir but nearly fell when she took too large a step. With a chuckle he bent and unlaced the leather binding on her feet.

  “Now, that should make it easier, but remember, your sister’s life depends on you,” he warned her with a firm tone. She glanced at her terrified sister still chained to the post.

  “It’s alright, Saibh, I’ll be back soon. You wait here and be good.” She smiled wanly hoping to reassure her frightened little sister. A reassurance she didn’t feel. Maybe he hadn’t taken her last night because she needed a bath, badly. She wondered if he’d change his mind once he got a good look at her battered body. Unless he liked women covered in bruises. And what’ll happen if he doesn’t want me? Will the smelly one take me? What’ll happen to Saibh? She hated to admit it, but she might need this overgrown bear of a man. At least for now.

  He took her elbow and guided her to the small creek that emptied into the cove. About ten feet across at its widest, it flowed lazily across the rocky bottom until it reached the sand of the beach. Then it spread into a wide fan sliding at last into the sea. They went up the grassy bank a short way to where the remnants of a moss-covered stone wall created a bit of pool on the far side. He untied her hands and pointed at the water.

  Embarrassment warred with fear as she stood there on the bank. She heard plenty of snickers and crude comments. A glance showed her to be in full view of the most of the camp and a good number stood watching with eager anticipation. She pulled the cloak tighter as memories of being stripped in front of the whole ship rose in her mind. And what came after, how they’d egged each other on. She suppressed a shiver of fear.

  “You can get in and wash yourself or I can get a few others to help me do it for you.” Fridgeir cocked his head with an eager—too eager—smile. “Maybe Floki would enjoy helping me.” He grinned wickedly. “And your sister too.” He cocked a brow to remind her of their agreement.

  She glared at him as hot anger overrode her fear. He wants me naked—so be it! She dropped the cloak and tried to rip loose the rest of her shift. He pulled his seax, the long knife all Northmen carried. A cold chill ran down her spine and knotted her stomach. The rising sun glinted off the well-tended blade. He cut the shredded shift off with one firm slice while avoiding cutting her. His eyes followed his blade down her battered body, then he stepped back and sheathed his seax without a word.

  She let out the breath she’d been holding and stepped into the creek. Midsummer, the water was cool but not icy cold. In the distance she heard a few whistles and crude suggestions shouted their way but Fridgeir said nothing. She crouched down with her back to the men to splash herself wet. Arinbjorn set a clay pot full of soap on the rock wall in easy reach.

  “Don’t forget your hair.” Fridgeir settled down cross-legged on the grassy bank to watch with Arinbjorn.

  She glared over her shoulder at them. “Never seen a woman bathe before?” Demon’s balls, do they have to watch?

  “Of course, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see it again. Besides, I turn my back and you’ll be tempted to make a run for it. I should remind you that wouldn’t be good for your sister. Or you when I catch you.” He grinned and looked her over with obvious appreciation.

  She snorted and tossed her head dismissively at him, refusing to let him see the fear and humiliation that filled her. She focused on getting clean and ignoring the quiet and not so quiet comments from the others. The soap stung in the many cuts and scrapes covering her.

  * * * *

  Eirik grabbed some trail bread and cheese with one eye on Fridgeir and his new slave. He noted that Floki and Knut seemed preoccupied with her as well. What keeps Floki so intent on having her? Just because Fridgeir wants her? Or because women of the Wild Isles have a reputation for certain talents in bed? Floki had just joined them that summer and he didn’t know the man well enough to understand his attraction. After last night, he understood Fridgeir’s interest. She’d been through hell and still had plenty of will to fight. Just the kind of woman Fridgeir needs, if he can tame her!

  “What are you all doing loafing about?” Cedric called with a deep, commanding voice that covered the camp. “We’ve work to do.”

  * * * *

  Eireann glanced toward the camp again to find most of the men no longer watched. The smelly one and his friends hung nearby, obviously enjoying the show, but neither said anything. She let out the curly mass of her bright red hair. The stream ran no more than a foot deep, making her work hard to get her hair wet without exposing all of her to their stares. Once wet, she sat back up to wash it.

  “Doesn’t look like they took a whip to her although they obviously hit her with something,” Fridgeir noted. “I felt a bite on her breast last night. Need to see how bad that is.”

  Arinbjorn pointed. “Look at the bruises on her shoulders. Looks like someone grabbed her pretty hard from behind.”

  Eirik sat next to Fridgeir and offered him some bread and cheese. “She’s taken more than a beating, my friend. Look at those bruises on her inner thighs.” He pointed with the cheese in his hand.

  She heard them discussing her bruises and cuts over breakfast as casually as if discussing the weather. Anger flared. How dare they treat me like a sick cow! They want a good look, I’ll give them one! She stood with her back to them, spread her feet apart and bent over at the hips, making sure they could get a clear view of her womanhood. She twisted around just enough to enjoy the shocked looks on their faces. Fridgeir’s hand froze halfway to his open mouth with a bite of cheese.

  She taunted them with a little wiggle and snickered when some of their jaws dropped even lower. “There, take a good look. Demon’s balls, you’d think the lot of you had never seen a woman naked before!”

  Stupid men, always trying to catch a glimpse of naked women. Like they’d never seen one before. Or maybe their shock came from being able to see just how much damage had been done by too many men, too many rough men! Maybe even from the bank they could see the swelling and tears on her labia. A trickle of blood added a red streak to the black and blue covering her inner thigh.

  She stood and went back to scrubbing dried blood and dirt off her body and out of her hair—all of it. She noticed the red running down her legs and soaped
herself again. She glanced over to see them still staring silently.

  “Want another look?” Her jeering tone taunted them. She lay down on her back to rinse and arched up her chest, showing off her pert and well-formed breasts as she let the running stream rinse her hair. Since she’d come of age, she’d known how men admired her body. Apparently, the bruises and bites didn’t make a difference to these barbarians. She wiggled her head back and forth to rinse her hair. She let the wiggle flow down her body until it writhed sinuously in the water. She heard someone suck in a breath. It made her feel just a bit better, more powerful, to know she could affect them.

  * * * *

  Eirik shook himself back to reality. “Fridgeir, you have your hands full with that one! And you definitely get an exception.” He looked to Knut and Floki, whose mouths still hung open. “Any argument?”

  Knut smacked his friend to get his attention. “What!” Floki snarled.

  Knut pointed toward Eirik.

  “Oh, no—not right now anyway.” He turned and stalked off with Knut in tow.

  Eirik leaned close to Fridgeir and whispered, “What you see on the outside may not be the worst of it. She may never recover and not just physically. I’m worried about all the bruising from the back. That could be bad.”

  Fridgeir nodded solemnly. “I know. But I want to try. She’s a fighter and deserves that.

  Fridgeir looked from Eirik to Arinbjorn and back. “Any suggestions on dealing with her?” He looked from Eirik to Arinbjorn and back.

  “Take it slow and, Oden’s beard, be gentle!” Arinbjorn admonished his friend quietly.

  Fridgeir half-smiled. “I will if she will.”

  Eirik snorted. “Not your idea of gentle either! She’s hiding behind all that anger. I can smell her fear even from here. She’ll need time, patience and a feeling of safety. Try being her hero, rescuer. Not just her master.” Eirik slapped his friend’s shoulder as he stood. “You couldn’t pick an easy one! But I think she’ll be worth it if she recovers. She’s certainly got plenty of spirit!” He spoke louder. “Chain her back near her sister when she’s dressed. We’ve work to do.”