Serving My Viking Masters: Complete Series

by Serena Starling

  Barek turned to his son with a scowl. “No, boy, she is mine. The spoils of war belong to me. Only I decide who may claim what prize. And I claim this one.”

  I rose, legs wobbly, and hastened to pull my shift and gown over my head. Barek gripped my arm possessively, his gaze daring the others to defy him.

  Tannr backed down, pouting like a child. The huge Northman, Drengr, looked me over quietly. “Does the prize have a name?” he asked.

  “She doesn’t speak Norse—“ Barek began.

  “My name is Kira,” I whispered, meeting Drengr’s flinty gaze before quickly looking away.

  The short walk to the river exhausted me. Used in a way it never had before, my body was sore, my legs shaky. Sniffling, I stumbled over debris on the path, and would have fallen if not for Barek’s large hand wrapped tightly around my arm. He seemed reluctant to release me lest I try to run.

  My thoughts were in a jumble as he pulled me along. Had Riona and Neasa escaped? Was my uncle alive? And what of my own fate—what did Barek mean to do with me? I knew the Northman kept slaves from the people they captured on their bloody raids. Many were sold in Dubhlinn, others taken back to the northern lands to work for them.

  Barek seemed intent on keeping me. Would this be worse than being sold? The thought of being repeatedly subjected to the large man’s attentions at his whim sent a shiver though my body.

  If I were sold in Dubhlinn, I might have some future opportunity for escape. But if Barek did indeed take me away to his homeland, I would never see my own home again.

  I swallowed my tears as we crested a hill near the river. The sound of Norse voices reached my ears. Gasping, I took in the sight below—dozens of longships lined the river, with several hundred Northmen milling about on the bank. Some were erecting tents, others cooking at open fires. The scent of roasting meat wafted to me, causing my stomach to growl.

  The massive Drengr raised his arm with a shout, eliciting an answering shout from the other Northmen below. They stopped what they were doing, turning almost as a unit to cheer as we made our way down the hill. I cringed at the sound.

  Several warriors rushed up to us. “King Barek! We feared some misfortune had befallen you,” one said with a deferential nod to the man who gripped my arm.

  King Barek? Surely I hadn’t misunderstood the Norse word. Barek was their king?

  “No misfortune. On the contrary, I found the most delectable prize Ireland has to offer,” he responded, looking down at me with a lecherous smile.

  “I found her,” Tannr mumbled behind us. No one paid him any attention.

  The newcomer’s smile sent a chill down my spine, and I quickly dropped my gaze. “We’ve built a pen for the thralls.” He motioned behind him. I peeked around Drengr’s broad back to see where the man had pointed to.

  The bile rose in my throat as my mind struggled to take in the horror of what I saw. Dozens and dozens of people were indeed penned inside a crudely constructed fence, with several large Northmen standing guard. I scanned the faces quickly, searching for Riona’s dark, curly hair amid the sea of captured Irish.

  Please let her have escaped.

  “The maidens are at the end,” the man continued, reaching out as though to take me from Barek. “I can take her if you like.”

  But Barek pulled me closer. “This one is mine. I won’t have her touched.”

  The man couldn’t hide the disappointment on his face. “I will ensure she remains unmolested, my king.”

  Barek narrowed his gaze at the man, silent for a moment. “On your life, then, Jafri,” he replied, reluctantly handing me over to the Northman. “I will hold you personally responsible if anyone so much as touches a hair on her head. See that she is comfortable, and get her something to eat. I will fetch her later.”

  Jafri’s hand replaced Barek’s on my arm, and I was again pulled along as we made our way to the pen of captured Irish. Stepping between the throng of Northmen, I cringed at their lewd comments as we passed by. Even when I didn’t understand all the words, their facial expressions and body language were very clear.

  Jafri ignored them all. But he leaned over to speak to me as we approached the pen, his reddish hair tickling my cheek. “Mind yourself, girl. King Barek can be fickle with his women. As soon as he tires of you, I’ll be the first to sample your charms.”

  I shivered, finally shaking my arm free of his grip. He pushed me inside the pen and latched the gate. Jafri addressed the men who stood guard. “This one belongs to the king. No man shall touch her. He will have the head of any who defy his order.”

  Grumbling, the men nodded, glaring at me as though holding me responsible for adding this duty to their shoulders. I turned to face the others who were in the pen with me.

  A dozen girls and young women stared back at me. All beautiful, they had obviously been gleaned from the larger group of captured Irish for some nefarious purpose. Had these women been selected to serve the lustful appetites of the Northmen? Or were they instead to be sold at a high price, as Barek had insinuated he could with me?

  I recognized a girl from my village, Slaine. She was a pretty blonde, with fresh skin and a full bosom, betrothed to a young man we’d grown up with. I hastened to her, embracing her tightly.

  “Slaine,” I whispered. “Have you seen Riona or Neasa?”

  “No,” she replied, gazing at me with hollow eyes. “There is another pen of captured people. They may be there. Or they may have escaped.” She drew in a deep breath, her voice quavering as she continued. “They killed Osgar. He tried to protect me but they slew him.”

  “Oh,” I breathed, my heart breaking for her. “And your family?” I was almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “I know not of their fate.”

  “What is to become of us?” I asked, looking around at the others. “Surely we aren’t meant to serve the lust of those animals?”

  Slaine blushed, looking down at her feet. “This is the maiden’s area,” she whispered. “One of them...” She trailed off, her face growing even redder. “Checked me,” she finished.

  I felt my own cheeks flush as I remembered Barek’s finger inside me, verifying my maidenhood. But he’d then stolen my maidenhood moments later. I was no longer a maiden. Why was I in this pen?

  “We are to be sold as bed slaves,” Slaine said. “The others,” she motioned to the larger pen of captured Irish, “will have their hair shorn and will be sold for the work their strong backs can accomplish. We shall be auctioned for a different purpose.”

  I swallowed, taking in this disturbing information. “The king ravaged me,” I said in a whisper so as not to be overheard by the others. “I am no longer a maiden.”

  Slaine’s gaze widened, and she darted a look to the men who stood guard. “Don’t let them find out,” she whispered insistently. “The comely girls who were no longer maidens have been taken to a different pen. The men have free access to them. I think they will be sold as bed slaves as well, but the Northman cannot fetch as high a price. So they use them to satisfy their lust.”

  “The king ordered the men not to touch me,” I informed her. “He wants me for himself.”

  But Slaine shook her head. “Without your maidenhood, you could be ravaged by any one of these men and the northern king wouldn’t be any the wiser. How would he know? Would he take your word over that of his own men?”

  Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I was not as safe as I’d thought myself to be. Miserably, I looked out upon the hundreds of Northmen milling about, and awaited my fate.

  I must have slept, for I was awoken later by a sharp shake to my arm. “You, girl—get up,” a Norse voice growled. “The king requires your services.”

  I blinked, looking into Jafri’s sharp green gaze. The setting sun behind him lit up his red hair as he jerked me to my feet.

  I turned to say goodbye to Slaine, meeting her terrified eyes. “I will pray for your safety,” I whispered over my shoulder as Jafri pulled me roughly from the p
en.

  “And I yours,” she replied.

  Their work apparently finished, most of the Northmen now sat around roaring fires, laughing and drinking together. The drink, or possibly the approaching darkness, made them grow bolder. Now they shouted as I walked by with Jafri, some trying to reach out to grab my thigh or buttocks as I passed.

  Jafri laughed, but did nothing to stop the men from groping me. I remembered Slaine’s words and felt sick with fear. Had Jafri learned I was not a maiden? Did he mean to have his way with me before presenting me to Barek?

  But he led me toward a row of tents near the water. We approached the largest one, nearly twice as big as the others, flanked by two guards. I drew in a shaky breath. Jafri swept aside the tent flap and we stepped within.

  The spacious area contained a large sleeping area, piled high with furs, as well as a narrow table and two stools. A brazier of glowing coals occupied the middle of the tent, providing warmth and light.

  Jafri motioned to the bucket of water and bowl of fragrant stew on the table. “Eat quickly,” he ordered, glaring at me. “And bathe. King Barek will arrive shortly.”

  I watched his retreating back as he stalked out of the tent. I wasted no time with the food, gulping it down too quickly to even taste it. Despite Barek’s earlier order for the men to get me something to eat, no one had remembered or cared. I hadn’t eaten a bite since the evening meal with my family the day before.

  I stripped off my shoes and clothing, quickly washing with the cold water. My thighs were still sticky with blood and Barek’s seed, and I was grateful for the opportunity to bathe. I scrubbed myself vigorously, wishing I could as easily cleanse my mind of the events of the day as I could my flesh.

  I dressed again, standing near the brazier to warm my chilled body. The longer it took Barek to return to the tent, the more my thoughts churned. What exactly did he mean to do with me? Was I to return to his northern homeland with him as his bed slave? Would he have a collar put around my neck?

  I blinked away tears as I again thought of my family. Had they even survived? If they had, I knew they would be worried sick about me. If Barek took me away, they would never know my fate.

  I thought of little Neasa, my cousin, and how she would sit in my lap in the evenings so I could comb her hair. My mind supplied a disturbing vision of her lying lifelessly in the forest, her dead eyes staring into nothingness.

  I pressed trembling fingers to my lips to keep from crying out. I walked to the tent flap, moving it just enough to peek outside. It was dark now. I could hear the voices of the two men who stood guard, but could barely see them. There was no moon tonight; the glittering stars and the campfires provided the only illumination.

  I swallowed hard, my thoughts racing. Wiping my suddenly sweaty palms on my dress, I moved quietly to the other side of the tent, then dropped to my stomach to peer underneath. Nothing but darkness met my gaze. I listened for several moments. The shouts and laughter of the celebrating men we’d passed by seemed very far away.

  If I had any opportunity to escape, now was the time. I could make my way to the river, let the current carry me downstream, and hide out until morning. The men would be unable to track me in the water.

  And if Barek indeed meant to put a slave collar around my neck, as Slaine had suggested, I would be immediately known as a runaway slave and most likely sold back to the Northmen. I had to run before the telltale collar could give me away.

  If I didn’t make my escape now, I might never have another chance.

  The mud sucked at my feet as I slipped quietly into the cold river. Gasping, I waded in farther, squinting into the dark water, looking for a floating branch. I was a good swimmer but knew to be fearful of the swirling currents.

  But there was no time to waste waiting for a branch to float by so I could grab it. I whispered a quick prayer, knotted my long hair atop my head, then pushed off into the river.

  I’d only floated a short distance when I heard the shouts. Cursing through chattering teeth, I swam faster, hampered by my gown and the chill of the water. I saw a light from the corner of my eye, then another. Barek’s voice reached my ears.

  “Grab her! You won’t live to see the dawn if she gets away!”

  I heard a splashing sound and a familiar growling voice. Jafri. I kicked with the strength of panic, making contact with Jafri’s leg. Shouting, he grabbed my foot and viciously tugged me back toward the bank. I struggled to break free from the tight grip, but was as helpless as a hooked fish as he slung me upon the riverbank.

  I rolled over on my hands and knees, sputtering and gasping for air, as several men approached with their torches held aloft. Barek stepped forward. His hand clamped down hard around my arm, then without a word he dragged me back to the tent.

  My petrified mind had trouble forming the Norse words. “Please,” I begged as Barek slung me to the ground inside the tent, “have mercy...”

  “Mercy,” he echoed, scowling down where I cowered at his feet. “By all rights I should kill you, girl. The only reason you still breathe is because I desire what is between your legs.”

  His vile words somehow gave me hope. I had something he wanted, something that would keep me alive. Brushing my tears aside, I crawled closer. I gave him a watery smile as I hesitantly reached toward the bulge in his breeches.

  But he slapped my hand aside. “No, it will not be that easy, I am afraid. You must pay dearly for what you’ve done.”

  Barek jerked me to my feet, calling out over his shoulder for a rope. Barek pulled my sodden clothing off, then turned me sharply to grasp my wrists behind my back. I felt the cool breeze rush over my flesh as the tent flap was opened by the big Northman, Drengr. I cringed as he handed Barek a length of rope.

  The knot bit into my wrists tightly, forcing my full breasts to jut at attention. Helpless to cover myself, I hung my head in shame. Was I to be given to the massive Northman, then? Was this to be my punishment?

  The king motioned for Drengr to bend his ear toward him, then whispered to the large man for quite some time. Drengr’s eyes traveled to me, their stony depths revealing nothing. I bit back a sob.

  Drengr nodded, then left the tent. Barek again turned to me, his face angry and hard. “Remember, my sweet. You have brought this upon yourself.”

  I waited alone in the tent for what seemed like an eternity, shaking with cold and fear. Naked, my wrists were bound so tightly I began to lose feeling in my fingers. I finally moved closer to the brazier of coals to try to warm myself.

  I turned sharply as the tent flap was flung open again. A man walked through, then another. And another. I recognized Jafri and felt a wave of nausea. Six Northmen finally stood before me, staring at my bare breasts with lecherous smiles, as Drengr strode in behind them. He remained near the tent flap as though standing guard.

  Crossing his arms, the huge man gave a curt nod to his comrades. My knees threatened to buckle as they approached, looking like starved wolves circling a fawn.

  A dark haired man moved behind me, wrapping a burly forearm around my waist to pull my body into his. I felt the hard swelling of his manhood as he ground it into my flesh. His other hand snaked up to grip my breast, kneading it savagely, twisting my nipple between his finger and thumb. Another man approached. He was redheaded like Jafri, with a scar across his cheek. He yanked my hair back so my head jerked upward, then his mouth came down upon mine in a crushing kiss.

  He pushed his tongue into my mouth forcefully, tasting of ale, and I tried to turn away but could not. The others came forward, grabbing at my body, but were pushed back by the two who held me. I felt fingers between my legs, both from front and behind, as the two men vied for access to my womanhood.

  The other men growled at each other, each greedy for my body, as I struggled against the ropes that held me. I felt a mouth at my breast, licking and biting, but I couldn’t see who suckled me as the scarred man still held me in a deep kiss. He finally broke away and pulled me toward the narrow t
able.

  The others followed as he slung me down upon the table on my belly. My buttocks was lifted and spread by strong hands as my face and breasts dangled over the other side of the rough wood planks. The two who’d held me argued to be first inside my womanhood.

  “Take her mouth,” the scarred man ground out. He kicked my legs apart, spreading them so my feet barely touched the ground. Fingers were inside me again, stretching my folds. I wiggled helplessly, begging for mercy, which only seemed to incite the men.

  A jostling ensued. The one who fingered me was pushed to the ground, the victor of the tussle moving possessively behind me. I felt the tip of something hard against my sensitive flesh, squealing as I was suddenly pierced in one long stroke by a sizeable cock. The man pumped me with force, gripping my buttocks with both hands, as the other Northmen pushed forward with frenzied intent.

  Some already had their stiff manhood in hand, as the others struggled to unlace their breeches. The man behind me drove in mercilessly, causing my breasts to bounce and sway as three thick cocks were presented to my face at once.

  They all pushed at my mouth, each man grabbing my hair to try to turn my face toward his own member. I shrieked, my cry cut short as a huge cock forced its way into my mouth. Choking on the thick, veined flesh, I felt hands on my breasts, squeezing and pulling, then felt other hands on my buttocks as someone stretched me wide.

  The man behind continued to drive into me as did the man who had my mouth, yet someone else, too greedy to wait, insistently circled his finger around the sensitive hole of my anus. The finger felt slick with grease or some slippery substance. I squealed again, straining with all my might against the binding around my wrists, as the finger pushed its way inside me.

  All holes filled, the men drove deep, the three others jostling impatiently for their turn at me. Furious tears sprang to my eyes as I was pumped without mercy, nothing but a vessel for the pleasure of these vile Northmen.