To Serve and Submit

by Susan Wright

  “It is simple, really,” I explained. “I have been trained to give pleasure to people.”

  “Does that give you pleasure?”

  “Yes, it satisfies me. I am suited to this life by my nature.”

  Amaruq watched the olfs that were rolling across the ground near me. “They sense no evil in you, as there is in Kinirniq. Our shaman agrees, though he is puzzled. How did you escape Vidaris unscathed?”

  I knew it was not merely my love for Lexander that had carried me through. “Perhaps it is because I chose my fate as a pleasure slave. I was satisfied by my training.”

  “Kinirniq was taken against his will,” Amaruq agreed. “He would have fought against his fate.”

  I glanced over at Kinirniq, who was accompanied as always by the children. “Innocence may heal him. Helanas hurt him and made him live in fear. She broke his spirit, allowing the evil to get inside of him.”

  Amaruq smiled. “Even when you tell your story, you turn it to others. Have you nothing of your own?”

  He was sincere, so I answered honestly, “Everything in my life is tied to others—my kin, my master, and my friends in this world and the other.”

  “Perhaps that is why you are so often merely a reflection of other people’s desires.”

  I thought it a likely conjecture. Here I was alone again, and my first impulse was to gain the help of the most powerful person in the camp. It was comforting to know that Amaruq was interested in me. But Keelat kept narrowing her eyes in our direction the longer we spoke. The others didn’t seem to notice anything, while Amaruq’s wife had already sniffed out my intentions.

  I had brought Silveta and Lexander to Helluland, so I had to fulfill my promise. The way through this turmoil was the path I had first chosen, and I only hoped it would lead me back to Lexander as well. But I could not think of my master now, or my longing for him would disrupt the spell I was weaving with Amaruq.

  I lowered my voice. “I would be honored to reflect your desires, respected elder.”

  He understood instantly. His interest began heating in a more familiar way. But Thule were subtle people. I did not dare overdo my advances.

  I sat beside him in a charged silence, waiting for him to make the next move. I kept my eyes down, thinking only of him, feeling his presence beside me.

  It went on for a long time as the shadows slowly moved across the ground. As I radiated my desire for him, he simply accepted it. How could I not be attracted to Amaruq? He was strong, commanding, and wise. He held my fate in his hands.

  Finally Amaruq glanced over at me. “You are relentless.”

  A smile played on my lips, as I met his eyes. “You would like to know me. Let me show you more . . .”

  His breath caught as he watched my mouth. Among the reserved Thule, his reaction was as blatant as a kiss.

  Suddenly Keelat was standing before us. I drew back at her trembling rage, wondering if I had overstepped myself.

  “Will you mate so openly?” she demanded. “Where all the children can see?”

  Amaruq actually smiled, unconcerned with her outburst. “Will you be with our friend tonight, wife?”

  Her face twisted. “Yes, you need not ask.”

  “Then our guest will share my furs.” With that Amaruq stood up. He clasped Keelat’s arm lightly, and that instantly appeased her. They exchanged a nod; then he left, heading deeper into the encampment.

  He had not touched me, nor had he asked for my agreement. It left me heady with anticipation.

  Nothing more was said between us. Amaruq paid no attention to me during our night-meal. Keelat was not as self-controlled, and her expression slipped to bitter irritation at times. But once the last morsel was swallowed, she set off for the widower’s tent. I had to assume she accepted Amaruq’s declaration or she would have stayed.

  Only after Keelat left did Amaruq let his eyes linger on me. I flushed with excitement. Finally, here was a man worthy of Lexander’s gifts to me.

  Amaruq waited as his kin began to sleepily enter the tent, reverently touching a thick bunch of black feathers hanging over the door. I realized he did not wish to make a show of our rutting, so I quietly slipped in after he did. It was darker inside the tent.

  By courtesy, Amaruq and Keelat shared furs at one end, where it was warmer and they didn’t have people brushing past their feet to go outside. Silveta was near the other end, where we had been placed. I wasn’t sure if she slept or not, but she had barely touched her meal before crawling back inside. I had never seen anyone dream away so many days without ceasing, and feared it boded ill for her. I was glad to see our Markland olf stayed nearby, protecting her.

  The olfs knew what I was doing, naturally. Their chubby curves gleamed as they swung across the curved roof of the tent. I was thankful the shaman, the most observant of the clan, did not sleep in this tent. The others were tired from the ceaseless work of the hunt, and hurried into their furs with babes snuggled in and children lying between couples. We were a full two dozen in all.

  Despite the darkness, I knew it would be a very public coupling. There was no privacy in the tent, and every rasping breath could be heard. Indeed, as I slipped off my parka and leggings, I heard similar movements that heralded the night games.

  I slipped naked between the furs, more silky than the ones I usually slept in. Amaruq and Keelat were given the best the clan possessed. The daughter-in-law who lay down not an arm’s length away noticed I was there, and she whispered to her husband, Amaruq’s eldest son.

  I felt an old tinge of modesty and had to smile, remembering how innocent I had been when I had first arrived in Vidaris. I had been embarrassed to take off my clothes in front of Lexander. Now it merely heightened my arousal to know others were avidly listening to us.

  Amaruq’s hands touched my face. Then his fingers began lightly tracing down my neck to the swell of my breasts and the curve of my waist. I sighed as his palm slid to my hip. He grasped my thighs, feeling their strength. Then his fingers tangled in the short, soft hair of my groin.

  I bit my lip to keep from moaning. His touch was tantalizing as he traced the contours of my body.

  But when Amaruq had taken the measure of me, it was clear he wanted more than that. “Tell me how you learned to be a pleasure slave,” he urged, as his fingers stroked me.

  “I was taught poses and discipline,” I said with difficulty. “We slaves practiced sensual techniques on each other, and sometimes with our master and mistress.”

  “No, don’t tell me in that way. Describe it to me.” His voice was urgent. “Tell me something that happened to you in Vidaris, a time when you were surprised at yourself.”

  It was not easy to think while he stimulated me so, but I understood what he wanted. Instantly I thought of my penance and how Lexander had ordered me to pose naked on a pedestal. It was embarrassing to reveal it, but I knew that honesty was what he needed in order to trust me. So I told Amaruq, sparing no detail of my initial pleasure at being displayed, then my shock when the magnates arrived.

  “The younger was so greasy and nasty,” I murmured, “I was repulsed at the very sight of him. Yet when he touched me, I was aroused.” My body moved as I recalled the magnate’s rough touch and my conflicting emotions. “I was ashamed for wanting him. Yet I discovered it is my nature to respond when someone wants to make use of me. He merely touched me, and I was ready to bed him right then and there. But the magnate chose Rosarin that night, and I must admit, I was envious of her.”

  As I spoke, Amaruq’s hands still moved over me. It was almost mesmerizing, his constant touch as I flushed at the memory of my penance.

  I braced myself against his chest, feeling his smoothness. With his hard muscles and creamy skin, I was reminded of Lexander as I ran my hands along his body. His tarse was full and heated, yet Amaruq made no attempt to take me.

  “So it was not merely the man’s hand on you,” Amaruq said thoughtfully. “You responded to his desire for you. But this man did not tak
e you to fruition. Was there any time that you felt strongly satisfied, both in body and emotion, by being used in this way?”

  I did not want to speak of how Lexander took me after the greasy magnate had left. That was too intimate a confidence.

  So instead, I told Amaruq of one time when Sverker had taken me on the sly. He had been denied by Helanas for many days, and when he caught me in the storeroom, I thought he wanted only a quick suck. But that time, he was angry about something, most likely because Helanas had hurt him. He took me from the rear, slipping into my tightest hole. Just describing how he had done it made me wildly aroused. Amaruq whispered encouragement, making me tell every part of my shame and delight.

  “It hurt terribly at first,” I confessed, “but I felt an incredible rush at being used solely for his pleasure. It mattered not what I felt . . . yet I was able to make him lose control so that he had to take me.”

  “And were you satisfied?”

  “Yes, very much so. I was limp and so relaxed afterwards. I kept smiling, and Sverker thought that was strange, I could see. I never told anyone about it, not even my master.”

  I could feel the heat in Amaruq’s groin. Unable to restrain myself any longer, I bent forward to lick his chest. He tasted of smoke and sweat, a fine manly scent.

  Gradually I moved lower, breathing on his skin, stroking him with my fingertips and kissing every part. He hissed as I gently blew on his tarse, then took him inside my mouth. Lexander had taught us every technique to pleasure a man’s organ, from stroking to licking. I swear I tried them all on Amaruq, hoping to make him lose himself.

  But the man was more resilient than I expected. Ultimately, his hands held my head as his hips pumped into me. He strained, and I knew he wanted to release his seed into my mouth.

  Instead, he abruptly pulled me up. As my head emerged from the furs, I could hear the silence in the tent. They all listened to us.

  As Amaruq took me, I cried out softly, knowing it inflamed the others. Men were reaching for their wives to satisfy the lust that whipped through the tent. The olfs were wheeling as if they were drunk.

  I lost myself in the rhythm, my body tightening around Amaruq again and again. He was a potent man and gave me much pleasure. Yet I felt no urge to reach out with my senses and open my emotions to Amaruq. Our joining was purely physical, nothing otherworldly.

  Finally he spent himself because he could not withstand it any longer. I joined with him, reveling in the endless moment. Afterwards, Amaruq did not hold me close like Lexander did. But I was comforted by his warm body lying next to me.

  Twenty-one

  “how could you rut around with that old man?” Silveta exclaimed the next morning. She had gotten out of her furs to drag me into the boggy tundra where we could speak freely. “I thought you were in love with Lexander! He’s been magnificent to you. How could you give yourself to another man?”

  The olfs were listening, of course. There was nothing I could do about them carrying tales. But likely Amaruq knew my ultimate goal as well as I. “Amaruq won’t help us fight Birgir unless he trusts us.”

  Silveta looked frankly skeptical. “That’s not how you negotiate to get a warband, Marja.”

  I met her eye squarely. “I sell myself to survive, Silveta. It’s what I am. Gudren helped me escape Brianda. And Niall enabled me to escape from Birgir—that’s how I was able to rescue you.”

  She frowned. “So Lexander told you to do this? I wasn’t surprised when you threw yourself at the Sigurdssons—they have some kind of hold over you. But this is going too far.”

  “Lexander doesn’t know.” I realized I would have to tell her. “He’s gone. Nerriviq’s clan went to the southern bay to hunt.”

  There was silence for a few moments. “Oh,” she said softly. She looked as alone as I felt.

  “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I’ll make sure Amaruq helps us.”

  But Silveta was despondent as we walked through the encampment back to the Tulugaq. I expected her to retreat in despair to her furs again, but instead she seated herself outside the tent and watched everything. The last hunt had been very successful, so the men were helping to cure the hides. I did whatever was requested of me and usually took on the messy job of hauling bones over the ridge to a gully for disposal.

  After my night with Amaruq, there was a marked difference in how the others treated me. Now they weren’t sure what to think of my status. Since I was a guest, that implied my stay was temporary. Yet shared intimacy among the Thule usually meant there would be a longer association. Keelat and Amaruq had bedded the widower and his wife for decades.

  The olfs were elated by the clan’s curiosity. They always liked to feed off a mystery. The children picked up on the olfs’ excitement and ran around the camp laughing and screaming in unusually exuberant games.

  Amaruq paid no attention to me or Silveta. Yet I could see that he was quicker to smile. I carefully hid my interest in Amaruq, knowing that it would disturb his kin, especially Keelat. From time to time his wife assured me, “You are a guest. There’s no need for you to assist us.” To which I always proclaimed my desire to work. She kept assigning me tasks to keep me under her control and away from her mate.

  I was busy dumping baskets of bloody bones onto a hide to be dragged to the gully when Silveta approached. “How can you do this?” she exclaimed, waving at the flies that swarmed up. “Have you no dignity?”

  “I don’t judge what the spirits bring me,” I demurred. “I simply perform my duties to the best of my ability. As you do.”

  Silveta hesitated, but the blood that coated my hands made her shudder in revulsion. I realized she was remembering Ejegod’s gory death. Before I could say anything to reassure her, she turned away.

  As Silveta passed the hanging haunch of meat, she absently flapped her hand at a raven that had just settled and begun to pull at the flesh. The bird startled and flew up.

  Keelat was instantly there, grabbing Silveta roughly by the arm and throwing her up against one of the posts. It happened too quickly for me to intervene. The next moment, Keelat’s curved knife was at Silveta’s throat.

  Silveta froze, her eyes glazing with terror. I had no doubt that Birgir had raped her at knifepoint.

  I didn’t dare touch Keelat’s arm. “Silveta meant no harm! She didn’t know the raven was an honored guest.”

  “She has disrespected our totem!” Keelat raged.

  I knew that Silveta had broken a taboo that could lead to sickness or injury for members of the clan. It was especially dangerous because of the hunt. If the raven was offended, it could influence the caribou spirit to resist the hunters.

  But Keelat’s anger was over much more than Silveta’s thoughtless action. She resented the whispered comments about my lengthy coupling with Amaruq. I knew it would take only a slight pressure from the knife and Silveta would be dead to spite me.

  “If you kill her,” I warned Keelat, “I will stay here forever . Nothing will take me away.”

  Amaruq’s wife heard my threat. She glared at me. “Take care that you don’t suffer the same fate she does, half-breed.”

  I knew Keelat would not risk breaking the taboo of harming a guest unless she had a very good reason. So I kept my voice light. “I could be very happy here. Right now I am under obligation to this woman, but if that ends I have nowhere else to go . . . and I have been shown how welcome I am here.”

  Keelat growled, baring her worn teeth, ground down from chewing hide. Her cheeks hung laxly and wrinkles radiated from her eyes and around her mouth. But she began to finally ease back.

  Silveta sniffled like she was about to go into hysterics. I grabbed her arm hard. “Be silent,” I said to her. To Keelat, I explained, “I want nothing more than to leave here with Silveta; tomorrow would not be too soon. You can make that happen for us.”

  Suspicious, Keelat still held her knife between us. “How?”

  “Silveta needs a hundred warriors to retake her estate in Mark
land. We’ll go with them, never to return here.”

  Keelat actually bit off a laugh. “Why would we risk our sons to fight your battle?”

  I knew I had her. “Silveta can give you winter settlements on Markland. The land is fine with tall trees and whales swimming close to shore. You would no longer have to take the worst of the lands in the south, and risk having your children stolen as Kinirniq was.”

  Keelat’s eyes widened. “The sun-haired woman can give us settlements? If she has such power, why does she beg here?”

  “Her estate has been seized by a fiendish man. She can reclaim it with the help of one hundred warriors.”

  Silveta murmured faintly, “What is happening?”

  “I told her that you would give them winter settlement lands in Markland.” I glanced at her. “Don’t make that face! You have to convince Keelat now, or you’ll never get the help you need. Birgir is willing to grant the overlord far more. Do you want to best him or not?”

  Slowly Silveta nodded, warily regarding Keelat. “I can guarantee the next chieftain will honor a grant of tracts of land on the northern coast. It’s empty because it’s too exposed for good farming. The Micmaq used to live there, but many left or died of disease.”

  I relayed this to Keelat, leaving out the last part. Thule were much less likely to interact with the Noromenn, and that would preserve them. “You see, Silveta agrees,” I added. “Your men can win her rights, then take possession of the lands for yourselves.”

  “And you?” Keelat asked. “What do you gain from this?”

  “I will fulfill my pledge to Silveta and my homeland, and the olfs will be pleased with me. Then I will be free to go to my master. He is the man I love and long to be reunited with.”

  Keelat sheathed her knife. Her kin were watching our heated argument from around camp, but did not dare to come closer out of respect for the elder. “This woman will live for now. I must consult with Amaruq.”

  Silveta was impatient to hear their decision, but I tried to explain that Skraelings had their own way of deliberating. That evening, after Keelat conferred with Amaruq, the shaman emerged wearing an elaborate winged mask with a raven’s beak. The black feathers had an iridescent shimmer. He began to dance and chant to the beating of the drum. I was glad to see them consult the animal spirits, but Silveta was frightened and unconvinced.