As an indication of the new king’s standing, several royal princes sent fine gifts, hoping for one of Athelstan’s sisters in marriage. His cousin Adelolf, Count of Boulogne, who represented the Capetian ruler Hugh, a Frankish duke, sought his sister Eadhild. Henry the Fowler, Saxon king of the Germans, wanted Athelstan’s sister Edith for his son Otto. Conrad the Peaceable, King of Burgundy, would take any sister he could get. Athelstan’s sister Eadgifu had already married Charles the Simple, the Frankish king, six years before.
Among the priceless gifts they brought were the Holy Lance of Charlemagne, allegedly the one used by the Roman centurion to pierce the side of Christ. Also, the sword of Constantine the Great with a nail from the True Cross in its hilt, and a crown of thorns set in crystal, not to mention precious gems the size of hen’s eggs, magnificent horses, and rare perfumes.
“It seems Sigtrygg should be honored by Athelstan’s proposal to marry his sister if such distinguished men clamor for his family ties,” Ruby whispered to Thork.
“’Tis nothing of honor to it. The king will do what is to his best advantage, like any other.”
It was Thork’s turn to go forward on behalf of King Sigtrygg.
“Thork! Back so soon!” the king exclaimed and embraced him like an old friend. “Do you check on your brother Haakon? I thought you were not fond of court life.”
“I come on behalf of King Sigtrygg of Northumbria who pays homage to you as ruler of the English. Also, I bring you his formal acceptance of the betrothal contract for your sister.” He placed in the king’s hand a magnificent Viking sword with a twisted metal blade and a solid gold hilt embedded with rubies.
There were disgruntled rumblings behind them from some of the nobles about Athelstan’s giving his sister to what they considered a heathen barbarian while they waited in line like lowly beggars. Athelstan stopped them with a cold look.
“When will he wed my sister?”
“Would the thirtieth of January suit?”
“It would. Will you come to my solar tomorrow afternoon to discuss further details?” When Thork nodded, the king asked who accompanied him, and Thork introduced Ruby and Selik.
“Ah, the godly handsome Norseman who breaks the hearts of sweet maids from here to the Holy Land and beyond!”
Selik tilted his head in arrogant acknowledgment of his dubious reputation and bowed to the king.
Then the king turned to Ruby.
“Surely not the woman who claims to come from the future?” he asked Thork, who nodded, then frowned, probably wondering what spy network reported to the Saxons so well on events in Jorvik.
“Wonderful!” He clapped his hands together and demanded, “Bring her with you on the morrow. I want to hear all her stories. I understand I could learn much from her.”
They were about to be dismissed in favor of the long line of people waiting to be presented to the king when Athelstan asked, “Where do you stay?”
Thork shrugged uncertainly. “We just arrived this morn. With all the crowds here in Kingston, we will no doubt go back to my men who camp in tents near my ships.”
“Nay, you will not.” The king directed a servant to find a room for Thork and “his woman.”
His woman! Where did he get that idea? Ruby wondered as her face flushed hotly.
“And one for Selik, as well. ’Tis certain he will find his own woman afore the night is over.”
Thork smiled so smugly as they walked away from the dais that Ruby had to elbow him in the ribs.
“A private room at last,” Thork whispered, putting his arm around her shoulders intimately, uncaring of the people’s stares. “Your time of sweet reckoning has come, dearling.”
“I’m not going to sleep with you,” Ruby whispered to Thork as they walked up winding stone steps to the second and then the third floor of the massive palace. They followed a grumbling servant who complained incessantly of the demands put upon him by a king who thought there were endless rooms to be had.
Selik was shown his broom-closet-sized room at the top of the third-floor steps. When Ruby started to enlist his aid in escaping Thork’s inevitable amorous advances, Thork clamped a palm over her mouth and laughingly informed his friend, “Overcome with emotion she is over the night to come.” She tried to bite Thork’s palm, but he held her too tightly. The overworked servant just stared at them in tired boredom, as if people behaved in this manner all the time.
The small tower room he showed them was spartan, but clean. Thork indicated with a satisfied grin that its biggest asset was the full-sized bed, rather than the expected pallet.
Ruby thought the servant would have a heart attack when Thork asked him what the chances were of having a bath.
“On the third floor?” the old man choked out. But he quickly overcame his exhaustion when Thork offered him a coin which would be matched by another if he brought the tub and water in record time.
“Master, ’twill be here afore you have your clothes off,” he promised, adding solicitously, “Wouldst ya be wantin’ perfumed soap fer yer lady?” He flashed Thork a lascivious, toothless grin.
Oh, great! A conspiracy of like minds.
“We have to talk while that servant is gone,” Ruby asserted quickly, while Thork rummaged through the large leather bag that held their belongings. So studiously was he searching for something and ignoring her words that finally Ruby asked. “What are you looking for?”
“This!” Thork held up her homemade teddy-bustier and grinned. “After you bathe, I want you to put this on. I have dreamed the picture for days,” he explained huskily.
“No!” Ruby exclaimed, despite the wild hammering of her heart.
“Oh? Methinks you will.” His blue eyes, warm with promise, locked with hers.
“I want to talk,” Ruby groaned.
“I want to make love,” Thork argued.
His words moved Ruby, despite all her good intentions. The glaze of passion in his misty eyes compelled Ruby to surrender, but still she started to turn away, trying desperately to resist. “Why are you doing this?” she moaned.
“Are you serious?” He looked meaningfully down to his already burgeoning arousal.
Ruby closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to regain some semblance of control, then admonished, “Don’t be crude. I meant, why now? When I tried to seduce you, you thought our making love would be a bad idea. It is a bad idea. I realize that now. Think about it.”
A slight grin tugged at the corners of Thork’s lips as he listened, disbelieving, to her words. “Sweetling, that is all I can think about.” He laid the teddy on the embroidered bed cover and removed his sword and belt and tunic. He sat down to take off his soft leather shoes.
Panicked, Ruby realized she didn’t have much time to convince him. With a shaky voice, she urged, “Thork, let me tell you why we are not going to make love.”
Thork’s lips twitched infuriatingly. “I am listening.”
Hah! His mind was about as open to her arguments right now as a teenager with a bad case of raging hormones. And she wasn’t doing so great herself.
Still, she had to try. But, before she could speak, he walked barefooted to her where she still stood frozen by the door. He gave her a quick, light kiss on the lips and said huskily, “You are beautiful.”
“I am not. You’re beautiful. I’m attractive, at best.”
“You think I am beautiful?” He seemed inordinately pleased at that idea. “Can you imagine the beautiful children we might have made together?” he asked wistfully, then shook his head as if it were a wasted thought. “Not that I want any more children or ever intend to have more, but ’tis a tantalizing idea, is it not?”
“Oh, Thork, even your words prove why this can’t work.”
“How so?” he said, cocking his head quizzically. Meanwhile, he peeled off his slim black pants and stood before her immodestly in only a codpiece that resembled a modern-day jock strap.
Ruby groaned.
The candlelight flickere
d on the smooth planes and battle scars of his bronzed skin, highlighting the golden strands in his hair, making his eyes appear a darker shade of blue. When he leaned to pick up his clothing and jewelry and place them in a neat pile in the corner, corded muscles in his back and buttocks rippled with his graceful movements.
He looks like a damn golden god, for heaven’s sake!
The servant brought in the tub, followed by four other men carrying two buckets of hot water each. He left with the other coin in his pocket and a big smile on his face, telling Thork to push the tub outside to the hall when he finished.
“Do you want to go first?” Thork asked after he filled the large oval tub, similar in size to a Colonial copper wash boiler. When Ruby shook her head, he dropped his last garment and lowered himself into the steaming water with a shudder and then a sigh. It barely held Thork’s massive frame. He had to draw up his knees to fit.
Ruby swallowed hard and tried to continue her explanation of why they couldn’t do that which she wanted to do so damn bad her teeth ached. While Thork soaped his body and washed his hair, Ruby chattered uneasily. “In the beginning, there were two main reasons why I pursued you, Thork. I was concerned about my safety here in a strange land, and I wanted us to be together to provide a home for Eirik and Tykir.”
“And?”
“Well, I’m safe now, at least until we get to Normandy.”
“And the boys?”
“Tykir lives with your family now and won’t be as lonely as he was in Jorvik, and Eirik, well, the fostering isn’t an ideal situation, but he’s where he wants to be. I’m sure he and Haakon will be good for each other. What I’m saying is that, if I suddenly had to…go away, I wouldn’t worry about them. Well, not too much, anyway.”
“Go away?” Thork snapped. “Do you still harbor plans to escape?” He stood abruptly in the tub and water sloshed over the sides. Reaching for a towel, he dried himself briskly while he glared at her, awaiting an answer.
Ruby chose her words carefully. “It’s not something I’m planning deliberately, but I could be returned to my home suddenly. I wouldn’t have a choice. That’s why I didn’t want to leave loose ends with the children, who are just like my own boys—”
“Nay, do not start that future-life nonsense again. You are an untried virgin. You have no husband, and you most definitely have never borne any children.”
Ruby tried not to look at Thork’s nude body as she continued, “Still…if I suddenly, mysteriously, have to leave, that’s another reason why our making love would be a mistake. You have to know I love you. I have for twenty years. You love me, too. You just don’t know it yet, but—”
“You love me?” Thork asked, choosing selectively which of her words to hear. He moved toward her with open arms and a wide smile.
She ducked under his arms and moved to the other side of the room. “—I also know how much it hurt when you…when Jack left, and I wouldn’t put you through that pain. Thork.”
Thork threw the wet towel down and looked at her with growing impatience. “We will part eventually, anyway, either at Normandy or at Jomsborg, if I decide to take you there. So, what does it matter if we make love?”
“Jomsborg?” Ruby’s forehead furrowed. What did he mean?
Thork hesitated, obviously not wanting to get into this particular discussion right now. “It is of no import now. Just a thought I had.” He picked up an ivory comb and pulled it through his wet hair absently. “If you decide not to stay in Normandy and if you please me in bed, mayhap I would consider taking you to Jomsborg with me.”
Please him in bed! Little alarm bells went off in Ruby’s head. Ruby looked at him suspiciously. “As your wife?”
“Nay!” Thork exclaimed, then tried to soften his tone. “Why do you persist in this talk of weddings?”
“Then what?” An icy chill ran up her spine.
“Selik warned me that you would react thus,” Thork muttered in disgust.
“Selik! You discussed this with Selik? Exactly what are we talking about here?”
“A bedmate, pure and simple,” Thork blurted out. He saw the outrage on her face and quickly added, “’Tis no disgrace in that, Ruby. I would treat you well, purchase you a home, fine clothing, jewelry, and you would be free to go when…when…” His words trailed off.
“When what?” she asked through anger-gritted teeth. “When you tire of me?”
The noncommittal expression on his face told her everything.
“You pond scum!” Ruby cried out miserably. “You egotistical, self-centered, male chauvinist pig!” Tears that she hadn’t realized were welling in her eyes streamed down her face. She turned jerkily and opened the door, wanting to escape Thork’s presence.
He followed her into the hallway, completely naked, the towel around his waist having come loose. A drunken ealdorman asked with a slur, “Need any help, young man? I have a whip in my room if the maid be too much for you.”
Thork ignored him and pulled Ruby back into the room. “Take off your clothes and get in the tub,” he demanded angrily. “More than enough have I had with words. I have coddled you for weeks and put up with more foolery than any man should. Enough! Promises aplenty you have made, and my reckoning time is more than due.”
“No!” She pulled herself out of his grasp.
“Then I will do it for you.”
Ruby backed away from him, and he stalked her around the tub toward the other side of the room. The bed separated them but not for long. Thork leapt over it and pinned her against the wall with her arms above her head, his hips against her stomach.
Laughing, enjoying the lusty pursuit, he informed her, “You can take the dress off yourself, or I will rip it off in shreds.” When she stubbornly refused, he transferred both her wrists to his right hand and placed his left hand in the neckline of the silk dress. With one swift movement, he tore it from neck to hem. Then he did the same with the underchemise.
Spreading both garments apart, he feasted his eyes on her small, firm breasts which strained the thin fabric of her black lace bra, then on the triangle of her femininity which hid behind her black silk panties. Easing the straps off both shoulders of her struggling body, he picked her up and threw her facedown on the bed, almost smothering her in the deep coverlet. He cursed as he struggled to unsnap her bra in back, finally succeeding. Then he flipped her over roughly and slipped off her panties and leather shoes.
Sitting on her waist, holding her hands pinioned above her head on the bed, he inquired smoothly, “Now will you take a bath, or must I wash every inch of your body for you?”
The tears streaming down her face didn’t move him at all. Ruby nodded her acquiescence.
Thork dumped four bucketfuls of bath water out of the glassless window, uncaring of who might be walking below, and added four clean buckets to the tub. Allowing her no modesty whatsoever, Thork watched her with smoldering eyes as she walked sullenly to the tub and slid into it up to her neck.
“Make haste. I will not wait all night,” Thork warned in a low, primitive voice.
Ruby pursed her mouth sulkily but did as he asked.
Sitting in a chair which he pulled closer to the tub, Thork sat watching her languidly, heavy-lidded, like a large cat anticipating a tasty meal. His naked body stretched out immodestly.
“Your hair grows longer,” he commented. “How long would it take to reach your shoulder blades?”
Ruby shrugged. “A year.” Then she added snidely, “Do you think you will have tired of me by then?”
Thork smiled, refusing to rise to her bait. “Mayhap.”
When she was done, Ruby asked for a towel. Thork brought one over, but before he gave it to her, he pulled her to a standing position, then soaped a washcloth lying at the edge of the tub. The tub water reached only as far as her knees.
Ruby gazed at him questioningly, her face flaming with embarrassment to be standing exposed before him.
“You did not wash there,” he said hoarsely, point
ing to the vee at her thighs. “Move your legs apart and do it whilst I watch. Slowly.”
“No,” Ruby choked out and tried to get out of the tub.
“Yea,” he demanded softly and forced her to stand in place. He spread her upper thighs several inches apart, then handed her the soapy cloth with an implacable expression on his face. “Do it, sweetling.”
She did. And would have died of mortification if she hadn’t soon realized that her actions had cracked the composure of Thork’s self-control. A pulse-beat in his straining neck told her how hard he tried to appear unaffected by her actions. His shaft attested to his rock-hard readiness.
“Now can I dry off?” she rasped out finally.
“Nay. Stay where you are.”
Thork took a bucket and emptied the tub’s water out the window until Ruby stood in water barely up to her ankles. What was he up to now?
Ruby got her answer soon enough as Thork knelt before the tub and gripped her ankles in his hands, then moved them two feet apart. He lathered her legs from her ankles to the top of her thighs. Then he smiled wickedly at her, took a sharp knife in his hands and began to shave her legs.
“Do not look at me so, sweetling. This was your idea, not mine,” he growled, “but I must admit I have been picturing the shaving in my dreams for weeks.” When she did not speak, Thork chuckled softly and went on, “Sometimes I shaved you as you lay, arms and creamed legs widespread, on that flat boulder by Dar’s pond. Then, too, I visualized you lying on the masthead of my ship with each lathered thigh on a rail of the prow opening. My favorite, though, was me sitting naked on a chair and you likewise nude, but astraddle the arms of the chair, with my hardened staff just barely touching the dew of your woman’s opening, and then I soaped you…”
Ruby was speechless under the onslaught of his softly spoken fantasies. Her blood felt thick. Her skin, all over, seemed to expand.
Thork rambled on seductively with his sexual images as he slowly, methodically, shaved her legs with all the concentration of a veteran barber. If occasionally the hair of his bent head brushed the nipples of her breasts or her pubic hair, Ruby couldn’t tell whether it was deliberate or not. All she knew was that his actions had ignited a fire in her which seared her skin and centered in a tiny pleasure point of her body which seemed to swell and ache for touch. Ruby bit her lip to keep from moaning.
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