The Northmen Series Box Set

by T S Florence

  “Well your mother and Jack, they are both here, in Newcastle,” Isla said the words quickly, as if it would lessen their impact.

  Ragnar looked at Ivar, as if to ask if he knew, but Ivar only shrugged his shoulders, to signal that he knew nothing.

  “Are they still wool merchants?” Rose asked.

  “Your mother… she never recovered after you left. Not mentally, anyway. Jack is a blacksmith now,” Isla said.

  “Jack Ashborn,” Rose said, turning to Ragnar, who felt his brain trying to work its way through the realisation.

  “His last name is not Draper, like yours,” Ragnar said, scratching the side of his head.

  “He changed it when Elsbeth re-married the local blacksmith,” Isla said, while Rose wordlessly nodded in agreement, her eyes cast to the floor.

  “He knows I was a slave. He knows my slave name. He knows I am yours,” Rose spoke up, though her eyes stayed on the floor.

  “Are you ashamed of this?” Ragnar asked.

  “It is very different to the life I lived before,” Rose paused momentarily “How do you mean mother never recovered,” Rose looked at Isla.

  Isla’s touched her lips self-consciously, buying time to consider the most gentle way to tell Rose the unfortunate news of her mother.

  “She doesn’t go into public much these days. She’s devoted, I suppose you could say,” Isla said.

  “Please speak plainly, princess,” Rose clipped.

  “There’s no need to use formalities, Rose,” Isla said back, acknowledging the childhood familiarity between the two.

  “Isla, please,” Rose said impatiently.

  “She is devoted to god. She goes to the church daily. Some days she will stand on the steps of the church and preach the word of the lord. She is… tenacious,” Isla said.

  “She’s fanatical,” Rose guessed, correcting Isla.

  “That’s another word you could use, I suppose,” Isla replied.

  “Jack has grown. He’s a man now,” Rose said, changing the conversation to her brother.

  “And brave,” Ragnar said.

  “Of course, you know my brother well,” Rose clipped.

  “We have journeyed together,” Ragnar said, carefully.

  “Here in England?” Rose asked, ignoring their royal company.

  “And Scotland,” Ragnar said in a low voice.

  “Why Scotland?” Rose asked.

  “To rescue a girl,” Ragnar said, knowing that the truth was digging him further into Rose’s bad books.

  “So you had time to travel to other countries with my brother, rescue girls who you did not know, but not enough time to come and see me in all the four years you were gone,” Rose smiled. “And now you likely know my own brother better than I.”

  “I don’t know him that well,” Ragnar said, cautiously.

  “Well enough to have travelled with him to Scotland, of all places,” Rose said, turning to Isla.

  “Isla, did you know that Ragnar was my owner, when-” Rose began to ask.

  “I knew nothing about you at all, I swear,” Isla said, before realising that was probably worse than saying she did know of her.

  “Of course, why would Ragnar have ever mentioned me at all,” Rose smiled, though without conviction, for the tears welling at the bottom of her eyes gave her away.

  “This is enough dinner for one night,” Ragnar growled, before pushing his chair out, and reached for Rose’s arm.

  “Who said I’ve had enough”, Rose said, pulling her arm from Ragnar’s grip.

  “Make up your damn mind, you claim that you’re my slave when you wish to make me feel bad, but if it doesn’t suit you, then you do whatever you damn well want,” Ragnar growled.

  “Already regretting your decision to proclaim me as free?” Rose clipped, though she stood anyway, signalling that she was ready to leave.

  “Umm, goodbye then?” Isla said, interrupting the two.

  “Yes, see you at training tomorrow - I suppose,” Ivar said uncertainly.

  “Sorry Isla,” Rose said, turning her attention back to the princess, as she wiped the beginning of a tear from her eye.

  “It’s a lot to take in. I will come and visit,” Isla said, rushing around the table to take Rose’s hands in her own.

  Ragnar gave Ivar a curt nod and walked briskly to the front door and readied the horse.

  Rose

  “I want to go back past the blacksmith’s shelter,” Rose said to Ragnar, as he steered the horse out of the castle compound. Rose slapped Ragnar’s hand as it found its way to her upper thigh.

  “Do you not want to steady your emotion before seeing your brother?” Ragnar asked uncertainly.

  “No,” Rose said, with firmness.

  “Father said the wealthy people and poor people have one distinct difference in their personality,” Rose said.

  “And what was this?” Ragnar breathed tiredly.

  “The understanding that if you have something you need to do, you must do it yesterday,” Rose said.

  “That doesn’t sound like a calculating merchant’s way of thinking,” Ragnar replied.

  “Being calculating is important, but actually doing something is more important. If I don’t go and see Jack now, then who knows if he will still be there tomorrow. Make the deal while you can,” Rose said.

  “The deal?” Ragnar asked.

  “Obviously the deal here is going to see my brother,” Rose sighed, impatient with Ragnar’s struggle to keep up with her.

  “Of course,” Ragnar said uncertainly, again resting his hand on Rose’s thigh, though this time she did not slap his hand away, but instead rested her (much smaller) hand on his.

  “What is he like?” Rose asked quietly, as the blacksmith’s shelter came into view.

  “You will be proud of the man he has become. He holds more courage in his heart than most,” Ragnar said.

  “I care more about his kindness than courage,” Rose said.

  “I’m sure he has that too,” Ragnar said uncomfortably.

  The blacksmith’s forge still smouldered, and the heat made the small room almost unbearable to stand in, which caused Rose to feel even more uncomfortable, all things considered. she was already feeling panicked and flustered at the thought of reuniting, for the second time that day, with her brother.

  “Jack, where are you?” Ragnar boomed.

  “What are you doing back here? I’ve seen enough of your ugly face for one day,” Rose heard Jack call back from a room that was deeper within the shelter.

  “Shut your English mouth and come out here, I have someone I want you to meet, officially,” Ragnar shouted.

  Jack appeared back out into the main room, and eyed the pair of them suspiciously, “I’ve met your slave girl already today, have you taken too many hits to the head on your raids in the northern countries?” Jack slung a towel over his shoulder, holding the end in his hand. He looked as though he had been washing the soot from his arms before they had arrived.

  Ragnar looked at Rose, with understanding and patience in his eyes.

  “It’s been a while, big brother,” Rose wrung her hands at the front of her dress, though it did little to expel the nervous energy from her body.

  Jack stood there, his eyes so wide that the whites seemed to light up the dimly lit room, contending with the smouldering forge. “Rose?”

  “Jack,” Rose said, though her voice came out as barely more than a whisper.

  Jack strode forwards and took her in his arms, breathing in her hair. He stood a full head taller than Rose, though their similarities were apparent. His nose and eyes had a brotherly similarity to that of Rose, and his temperament was similar as well, though they did not yet know this.

  “Wait,” Jack let go of Rose and took a step backwards, before looking between Ragnar and Rose.

  “You were Ragnar’s slave, back in his home country?” Jack said, confused.

  “In the eyes of the law, yes,” Rose said.

  �
�In the eyes of the law?” Jack asked.

  “I was treated better than most people’s own children. Elder Ragnar would be the one cooking me dinner most nights, rather than the other way around,” Rose said.

  “We travelled through Scotland together. We were almost killed in battle standing side by side, and you never told me that you held my sister as a slave?” Jack asked Ragnar, his cheeks becoming red.

  “I did not know she was your sister,” Ragnar replied.

  “I think he forgot I existed all together, while he was over here,” Rose interjected.

  “I did not forget you,” Ragnar growled.

  “And now? You couldn’t possibly still be Ragnar’s slave?” Jack asked.

  “She is not my slave,” Ragnar said quickly, before Rose could answer.

  “Ragnar has been my best friend since the day I arrived on his shores, in Fyrkat. He protected me,” Rose said.

  “Are you complimenting me right now?” Ragnar asked.

  “Well you did, but barely. I was sold again while I was under your ownership,” Rose smiled, enjoying that she could so easily get under Ragnar’s skin.

  “Ok, maybe let’s save that for another time. Rose, where are you staying?” Jack asked.

  “With Ragnar,” Rose said, still not feeling the gravity of the situation she was in.

  “Are you two together?” Jack said, his question laced with implication.

  “Yes. I love your sister. I always have,” Ragnar said evenly.

  “Where is mother?” Rose asked Jack hopefully.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Jack looked over his shoulder, as if he expected someone to come out from behind the back.

  “Why?” Rose asked.

  “She wouldn’t agree with your… situation,” Jack said.

  “What do you mean my situation?” Rose asked.

  “With Ragnar. Mother is… A strong believer in living in our Lord’s image,” Jack said.

  “She’s a fanatic,” Rose said.

  “Yes,” Jack said simply.

  “Then what shall I do,” Rose asked.

  “Figure out a story that doesn’t involve living with Ragnar,” Jack said.

  “I am not going to lie to mother, not about this, not after all this time,” Rose said firmly.

  “Oh, you haven’t changed a bit, have you,” Jack said, scratching the back of his neck.

  “I have changed, quite a bit actually,” Rose replied.

  “Well, so has mother. She isn’t who she was before you were taken,” Jack said.

  Jack, Rose and Ragnar talked into the early hours of the morning, with not more than a few seconds of silence in any one conversation. Finally, once Rose’s head was falling onto Ragnar’s shoulder more often than she was speaking, Ragnar took her home. She had agreed to wait before meeting her mother. Jack said that meeting Elsbeth would not be as simple and joy-filled as her reunion had been with him.

  Rose woke up the next day, feeling warm and protected next to Ragnar. They did not discuss where she would be sleeping when they arrived back in Ragnar’s home, but instead he took her in his arms and carried her to his room.

  Ragnar lay Rose down on the bed and undressed her with the gentle care of a man whose sole purpose in life wasn’t to kill and take from other men. But Ragnar’s life was exactly that. Soon, she looked up at him with sleepy eyes, her body naked for him to see. His eyes roamed her body, before landing between her legs.

  “I want you,” Ragnar said, and in one swift movement his face was between her legs, the suddenness causing Rose to gasp in surprise.

  She felt his tongue immediately working its way around her most sensitive spot, causing her back to arch in pleasure. A sudden need began to arise deep in her stomach, and her moans signalled this to Ragnar.

  “You want me too,” Ragnar said, as he lifted his head briefly from pleasuring her.

  “Don’t stop,” she moaned.

  Ragnar began to work his tongue inside of her, while he used large finger and thumb to play with her pink spot. His other hand worked its way up her stomach, until it landed on her breasts, squeezing each firmly. He moved from left to right, teasing her nipples. She looked at his muscle-bound, scarred forearms. The muscles moved about as his hands played with her body.

  The sensation built up inside of her until it was too much. Her legs wrapped around Ragnar’s head, her fingers laced through his hair. She pulled his face in harder against her. Her body convulsed as she felt his mouth taking in all of her sex.

  He lifted her in one smooth movement and spun her onto her stomach. Suddenly, she felt his hard length plunder her insides, the sensation causing her to yelp in a mix of pain and delight.

  “Ragnar,” she moaned.

  After only several moments, she felt him pulse inside of her, his seed filling her, spilling out onto the sheets. After peeling his heaving, sweaty body from her, He wrapped her up in his arms and carried her to the tub, where she fell asleep again in his arms as he cleaned her body.

  Rose noticed that the bedroom door was open ajar, with a hushed whispering that halted as she raised her head to see who was talking. The noise stopped as soon as she moved, and the door clicked shut. Rose leaped to her feet, with the intention to see who was looking through the door, but realised she was still naked.

  “Ragnar,” Rose shook Ragnar, causing him to emit a groan which would have rivalled that of a grizzly bear being woken from hibernation.

  “What is it?” Ragnar asked, without anger.

  “Someone was looking into the room,” Rose whisper-shouted, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up at the thought of someone prying into her life.

  “It was probably the maids,” Ragnar said.

  “Why would they be looking into your room?” Hilda asked.

  “Maids are nosey. They like to know what their master is doing,” Ragnar sighed, before he rolled over and pulled Rose towards him, wrapping his arm around her, cocooning her in his muscled arms.

  “They were whispering to each other,” Rose said. She was unaccustomed to people seeing her sleeping.

  “Like I said, nosey maids,” Ragnar said. “I will speak to them and tell them to mind their business.”

  She looked at him, taking confidence in his sleepy, confident eyes. A knock at the door took her attention away from his deep, rumbling chest.

  “Rose,” Brenna whispered through the door. “Rose, are you awake?”

  “Brenna?” Rose asked.

  “There are markets on today, bigger than anything I have ever seen in Fyrkat, do you want to come?” Brenna asked.

  Rose looked at Ragnar, who shrugged his arms. “I need to train anyway, why don’t you go with your friend,” Ragnar yawned.

  “Ok,” Rose said, kissing Ragnar on his forehead.

  Brenna was waiting for Rose in the courtyard, admiring the immaculately manicured gardens. The perfectly trimmed flowers matched the ancient Roman artwork on the walls.

  “Why don’t you think the Romans came to our countries?” Brenna asked as they walked out of the building, obviously taking in the same artwork that Rose was.

  “I would say either they couldn’t find it, or they did find it and saw that it was full of vikings, or they understood that trying to expand an empire that far would not be economically or strategically beneficial,” Rose said.

  “Wow, you’ve thought about that a lot?” Brenna asked.

  “No, not really,” Rose shrugged.

  “You must have received good education before you left England,” Brenna said.

  “My father did invest in private tutors. Priests and nuns would teach us numbers, logic, and language,” Rose said.

  “What does Ragnar think of your mind?” Brenna asked, as they walked down the cobblestone road.

  “It annoys him when I correct him too much, but other than that he never seemed to mind,” Rose said.

  As they rounded the corner they were met with the noise of bustling markets, Rose
felt eyes turn towards the pair of them.

  “Mummy, it’s the two viking girls that came back,” a boy said as he pointed at Brenna.

  “Don’t point at them,” the mother grabbed her boy’s arm, and dragged him away, but not before giving a wary scowl to both of the girls.