by T S Florence
“I am just glad I could help” Isla felt relief, and pride in undertaking such a difficult task which she had never done before.
“Ivar is lucky to have found such a woman like you,” Elizabeth said, causing Magnus to nudge her in the side.
“And Magnus is lucky to have a strong woman like you, too” Isla said to Elizabeth, trying to hold herself back from blushing. “But, we are not together, I’m merely his prisoner,” Isla said, though feeling her heart warm at the idea others saw them as a couple.
Ivar
People were approaching Ivar day and night, asking about Isla, where she learned her healing skills, and would he be keeping her for himself. But Ivar held his tongue, for the temporary pain was less important than the long term plan. And strong men knew that plans always prevailed.
When Elizabeth and Magnus left Isla and Ivar, he couldn’t help but admire her graciousness in accepting people’s thanks. People loved her wherever she went. People of Newcastle, people of Chester, and now people of his own clan loved her. She was a natural leader, so effortless and graceful. Her disposition had changed in the days since she had arrived in the village. Her pride had returned, a natural smile taking place of her frown, and she now embraced him with what felt like love, and not anger or resentment.
“You will make someone a good wife, one day” Ivar said to Isla.
“That someone will not be you?” Isla asked.
“I cannot see the future,” Ivar said.
“Maybe I will go back and ask the seer,” Isla teased.
“He has caused enough trouble” Ivar said, resting his hand on hers.
“I’m tired” Isla said.
Ivar watched her change from her day clothes to her night dress. She no longer felt embarrassed showing him her nakedness. Her body was unaffected by the harsh life that villagers led, having lived in castles her whole life. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, her hands were not rough and calloused like those in the village. Her legs were slender, and her behind well rounded. He felt himself getting harder as he watched her, oblivious to his gazing, getting changed.
“You do not need to put the dress on” Ivar said, looking towards her.
Isla jerked her head towards him, a devilish smile on her face.
“You would like me to come to bed naked?” She asked.
“I would like you to stay naked all the time,” he said.
“Well then, I would expect the same from you,” Isla walked slowly towards the bed, her eyes roaming his body.
Ivar stood, taking off his great white bear fur, undoing his leather armour and unlacing his tunic. He looked down, his shaft poking through his pants, which had attracted Isla’s attention.
“I see you have already made your mind up on what you are intending to do” Isla move her hand against his pants, grasping at his bulge. She slowly pulled his pants down, grasping him. He crawled onto the bed, pushing her under him. They pleasured each other, her eyes penetrating his soul, as he penetrated her center.
Slowly, he entered her. His hardness slowly filling her. She gasped as he entered fully, feeling a pleasure he could equate to nothing else. He took her body, pulling it firmly against his, feeling her breasts against his chest. He grasped the back of her head as he thrust, pulling back on her hair, causing her to moan in delight.
“Ivar” she gasped.
He pulled her hair harder, thrusting faster, his other hand squeezing her breasts, playing with her hard nipples. He tasted her neck, sucking, savouring the taste of her skin, relishing her breath against his ear. Her breath grew faster as he continued to thrust, pull, squeeze, bite. Finally, her skin covered in a shimmer of sweat, she moaned in ecstasy, as he finished inside of her, his head buzzing in sublime, unmatched pleasure.
“I did not know making love could feel like this,” Isla said, resting her head on his chest.
“It is surprising for me also. I can see why the poets would write songs of love now,” Ivar said.
The voice of his father women make men weak, and weak men die was fading to a distant background noise. For the first time in his life, Ivar questioned the wisdom of his late father. Was he correct on all matters of life? Sure, he was unmatched in his ability to deal with men, to navigate a battle field, but had he ever been fortunate enough to have met such a woman like Isla? What was his own mother like? Was it her who caused his father to caution him against women?
“We will continue our journey in the coming days” Ivar said to Isla, causing her face to change.
“Of course,” she said, rolling to her side.
Ivar hated himself. Soon you will understand, I hope. Soon, you will see why I did this. I hope you can forgive me. But I cannot reveal my true intentions, not yet.
10
Isla
Isla had gained enough trust to walk the village and its surrounds by herself. She had no intention of leaving now. She had accepted her fate, yet there was a part of her that believed Ivar had greater plans than he had revealed to her. Something more. Surely he wouldn’t leave me in harms way.
Isla walked along the river, her feet dragging along the fine pebbles on the water’s edge.
“Isla” a voice whispered from the woods. An English voice. A man’s voice. Who on earth?
“Who is it?” Isla called, her heart faltering in its beat.
“Isla over here” The voice whispered, causing her to look in the direction of a particularly dense area of trees.
Isla took a step back, preparing to flee to the village, until she saw him. Jack Ashborn. Newcastle’s best blacksmith and her childhood best friend.
“Jack what on earth are you doing here?” Isla ran through the stream, the hem of her skirt dripping wet as she came out the other side, hugging him.
“I’ve spent the last two weeks searching for you, to warn you that Vikings were coming for you,” Jack said urgently.
“Well I’m sorry, but you’re a little late. They killed Tomlin and I’ve been with them for a week or more now,” Isla said, realizing she’d lost track of the days since she’d been with them.
“You seem awfully calm, considering,” Jack said.
“Considering what? They aren’t so bad, you know most of the rumours aren’t true.” Isla replied.
“Isla, your uncle intends to have you killed. He does not have the favour of majority of the people, and since your father’s death, your name has been increasingly mentioned. They want a Duchess to rule. I can hardly believe it myself,” Jack said.
Isla went numb. Did Ivar know this? What if I told you that you wouldn’t have to marry again? Ivar had told this to her. He would not tell her why. He had avoided her questions as to what would happen to her. Had he fooled her this whole time? Ivar the Cruel, or Ivar the Clever? Did it matter? It surely would be a clever trick to take her unresisting to her uncle, in exchange for an ungodly amount of gold. How had she not thought that her uncle would be so ambitious, so evil, as to have her killed. Sure, she had never trusted him, but would he kill family? It had happened before, and power did horrible things to people.
“How do you know he intends to have me killed? Isla asked.
“Men come to the smithy and talk. They talk like I’m not there, but I listen to things. I have heard men close to your uncle speak of the deal he struck with Ivar the Cruel, his intentions to have you removed from the equation so he will not have anyone with a greater right to lead the people of Newcastle. I have stayed at inns along the way when tracking you, and people talk, they talk of Ivar’s success in killing Tomlin and taking you. I was afraid I was too late.” Jack said.
This was surely why Ivar would treat her so. Why he slept with her so willingly, even with her high status. He need not worry about her having a half-English child if he knew she would not see out Winter. So, Ivar the Cruel or Ivar the Clever, both names fitting for his traitorous plotting.
“Come with me now, I can take you to safety, I know some families along the Scottish boarder. People would never look
for you there” Jack said.
Isla felt weak, her legs giving way, Jack helped her to sit against a tree.
“I cannot leave now,” Isla said.
“Why not?” Jack said, urgency returning to his voice.
“People will soon realize I am not around, and they will come looking. We would be captured within the hour. Their horses are fast, they are trained in traveling long distances at a quick pace” Isla said. She tried hard to think logically, while her heart screamed at her. Ivar would not do this, you know him. But her head battled against her heart. He did not grow to such success in battle and life by being kind. He did not get here by letting people get close to him.
“You must meet me here tonight.” Isla said, choosing her head. Her head had steered her safely through the marriage with Tomlin. And now she must rely on it again, for the heart is a fickle thing, not choosing who to love, but rather, being chosen. “I will wait for Ivar to sleep, and I will come find you,” Isla said.
“Why must you wait for Ivar to sleep?” Jack said, before his expression changed, the realisation clearly dawning on him. “You and Ivar the Cruel?” He said incredulously.
“It was a necessity. Survival.” Isla said angrily, her face going red.
“Of course, my lady.” Jack said.
“Don’t call me that Jack.” Isla snapped.
“I will meet you here when the moon is in the sky. If you do not come, I will come looking for you,” Jack said.
“If I do not come, then you should leave, for the sake of your own life. I do not want you dying for me” Isla said.
“You cannot change my mind on this, Isla. The people of Newcastle depend on you.”
And so, the decision was made. Isla realized she must escape, for the sake of her life. For the sake of Newcastle.
That night at dinner, Isla put her years of living with Tomlin to practice. She smiled at Ivar, gazed into his eyes, seeing lies and betrayal. The seer had been right about one thing. Love and Heartbreak. But what about death and betrayal? Surely he did not mean Ivar, for if there was no love by him then it could not be betrayal. Isla felt cold at the prospect of death and betrayal. Her Uncle’s betrayal, her own death? Her fate was made, not matter the outcome.
“You are quiet tonight” Ivar crawled into bed by Isla.
“I’m just tired, I spent a long day walking in the sun” Isla replied, touching his face, her heart stinging as she quieted the screams of her heart to ask him for the truth. You cannot trust him, you are worth more to him dead than you are alive.
“Tomorrow will be our last day, before we begin our journey. You should rest up” Ivar said, oblivious to Isla’s new plan to escape.
“Of course” Isla kissed him on his lips gently, closing her eyes, feigning sleep.
Ivar
Ivar woke the next morning to find Isla’s spot cold and empty. This must be the first time she has risen before me. He rose, to go look for her in the great hall, to find the hearth stoked and flaming, servants cooking food, but no Isla. She must be watching the sun rise, Ivar smiled to himself. He walked out the front, but Isla was not there. He turned and strode back into the room. Isla’s belongings were not there, her healing bag and clothes were gone. She must be checking on Magnus’ and Elizabeth’s boy.
He took the stairs from the great hall two at a time, jogging the short path to Magnus’ large cottage. He walked in with out knocking to find Magnus still asleep with his dark haired woman asleep in his arms.
“Magnus” Ivar said, louder than he intended.
Magnus shot up, accidentally dropping Elizabeth’s head onto the bed. She shot him a dark look as he rose from the bed.
“What is it?” Magnus asked.
“She’s gone” Ivar said, his voice hitching. What was wrong with him?
Magnus eyes showed sympathy. Wordlessly, he put on his clothes, changing into all his war glory. “Then we do not know what has happened. Prepare for the worst. I will gather the men” Magnus said.
Ivar was grateful for Magnus’ initiative. Never before had he been stuck on which steps to take. By the time Ivar was changed into his all his war glory, his great white bear fur leaving him an intimidating, imposing figure, feared throughout the lands, he stood at the top of the stairs, his soldiers numbered into the hundreds. Trained killers, ready at any time to follow him, no matter the orders, they were there. Ready.
“The princess is gone. We do not know if she was taken or if she left” Ivar had a sinking feeling she had left, but shame, or embarrassment, prevented him from admitting so. “We will find her, and we will continue our journey starting today, and we will return to our families rich before the beginning of winter.” He yelled, rallying his troops.
It did not take long for Ivar to find tracks along the river. Early morning frost had left footprints in the wet grass, revealing the initial direction they had taken. Two horses had been stolen and walked to the edge of the forest, before it was clear Isla and someone else had taken off at speed. The tracks indicated that they had left at least four hours ago, giving them a significant head start.
She was a clever girl. A brave girl. She played me for a fool. Ivar felt his heart had been betrayed, and never had his father’s words rang more loudly, or more clear, in his mind or heart. Women make men weak, and weak men die. Ivar did not understand, it did not matter the strength of the woman, it was the effect the woman had on the man. She clouded his thinking. He truly believed that she was beginning to love him. The way she took him in her hands, the way they held each other at night, the secrets they told each other after making love. It was all a lie. As the hours went by, so hardened Ivar’s heart and mind. He would not let this happen again.
By midday they were approaching the Scottish boarder.
“They have made good distance,” Skald said, noting the time they had managed to make it so far. “They must have traveled at great speed to make it this far,” Ragnar agreed, sidling up beside them on his horse. Magnus had been of great use, commanding the scouts, altering their track as new marks in the ground were found. Tracking meant they were moving at a much slower pace than Isla and her faceless companion, who were merely riding hard with reckless abandon.
By afternoon, they found many tracks, tracks of at least 50 horses. These tracks met directly with those of Isla’s and her faceless companion’s. “What do you make of this?” Magnus asked Ivar.
“It appears they were either planning to meet a group of people, or they were surprised by another group of people. Possibly Scots. Possibly English. Possibly, but less likely, a raiding band of Northmen.” None of these were options that appealed to Ivar. As much as his heart raged, as much as his mind tried to harden itself against her, he was terrified for her safety. Nobody would keep her as safe as he could, and he would tear this country in half if it meant getting her back. Even if she hated him, he would ensure her safety. She had made him weak, and the longer he pondered it, the more he realized he could not escape his love for her.
Isla
If Isla wasn’t safe in the hands of Ivar the Cruel, then she was in grave danger now. A large group of Vikings, at least 70 by Isla’s count, had been were riding towards England from Scotland, and rode straight into Jack and Isla as they were heading to Jack’s friends.
The rope around her neck and hands scratched with step her horse took. Jack’s hands were also bound, leaving him to balance precariously on his horse, using only his legs to keep him from falling. Would Ivar come? Would he even be able to find me? What will he do if he finds me? Isla knew that whatever pretences of kindness he once displayed would now be gone, if ever she saw him again.
These Vikings were different than Ivar’s. For one, they were led by a woman. None of them had spoken a word to them since capture. After capturing them, they had turned and headed deeper into Scottish territory, causing Isla to grow more panicked. She had heard storied of the wild highlanders, so savage and unforgiving of those who walked through their lands.
&nbs
p; Finally, after what seemed like hours, they stopped at an encampment in a thick forest. There were more Vikings here, already there.
“What are you going to do with us?” Isla asked, praying that one of them would speak English.
The female turned and spoke to them. “You are now my property. I will sell you, pretty girl. And I will sell your handsome strong friend, too. Both of you will attract a handsome sum. Especially you, pretty girl. A rich old fat man will pay good price to have you in his bed.”
Isla felt sick. “You will not get away with this,” Isla said.
“And why is that?” The female grabbed Isla by her face, squeezing her cheeks together. Isla shook her head free, before answering “because Ivar the cruel is coming for you” she said. Isla watched the woman’s expression change from hostility to something else. Something less sure.