By love enslaved

by Conn, Phoebe

  When the slave saw J0m's horse disappearing from sight, he thought immediately that the magnificent mount had been stolen and feared he would be blamed for bringing him there where it could happen. "That was J0m's horse!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Who could have taken him?"

  Erik had seen a glimpse of blond curls and had recog-

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  inized the rider instantly. "It's Soren, Dana'$ younger brother. I'll have to go after him."

  Brendan ran along beside him as Erik entered the stable. 'That black gelding you rode this morning is no match for ISleipner. Haven't you another horse with more speed?"

  Erik had already grabbed his gelding's bridle, but he recognized the truth of Brendan's words. Haakon's stallion was grazing in the adjacent pasture, but he had never ridden him. "Haakon owns a fleet stallion, but he never allows anyone else to ride him."

  "What if his son is thrown and badly hurt, or if Sleipner is injured and must be destroyed?" Brendan forced him to consider. "Wouldn't he call you a fool for not borrowing his horse to prevent it?"

  Erik could not imagine his father's wrath being any more 'violent upon hearing of those tragedies than if he learned his stallion had been ridden. That was expressly forbidden, and he dared not disregard his father's wishes for any reason. "I'll ride my own mount," he announced without the I slightest doubt that that was the only choice he had.

  Brendan could not understand Erik's reluctance to ride the farm's swiftest horse. He cared not at all what happened to Soren, but he wouldn't allow any mishap to befall I Sleipner. "Where is this stallion?" he demanded. ! Erik waved him aside as he ran to his horse. "Sky Dancer's in the pasture, but I'll not ride him."

  Too eager to protect his own skin to worry about angering a man he had not met, Brendan gave up the attempt to influence Erik and grabbed the most ornate bridle from the hooks by the doors. Once outside the stable he circled the building in a lively sprint, hoping that Haakon's stallion would be grazing nearby. When he saw the white horse, he thought him aptly named, for his alabaster coat had the snowy appearance of the clouds overhead. Knowing such a fine animal would be able to race the wind, he vaulted the wall and whistled as he approached him.

  As a small child, Brendan had discovered he had a way with horses, and this was a talent he relied upon often. He called to Sky Dancer, speaking in a low, friendly tone that instantly piqued the animal's curiosity. The stallion eyed the

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  blond man suspiciously, not recognizing his scent, but apparently attending to his rhythmic flow of words, the horse did not bolt when Brendan reached him. In one fluid motion the confident slave slipped on the bridle and sprang on his back. Having no time to waste in opening the gate, he urged the stallion to a gallop, and the horse cleared the wall surrounding the pasture in a majestic leap with nearly a foot to spare. As they sped by the stable, Brendan saw Erik just emerging, leading the black gelding, but he didn't bother to wave.

  Erik screamed a vile curse, for he knew he would be in far more trouble for allowing the slave to ride Sky Dancer than if he'd had the courage to ride the spirited white horse himself. He leapt on his gelding's back, then jabbed his heels into the horse's sleek black hide. He doubted they could overtake his father's stallion, but he was determined to give it his best try.

  The exhilaration of riding Sleipner was short-lived when Soren found the stallion had taken the bit firmly between his teeth and would not obey his frantic tugs on the reins and halt. The boy had meant to go only for a brief ride, not to streak clear across the island of Fyn^, but he began to fear the horse would not stop until they had reached the sea. Although he pulled with all his strength on the reins, he could not subdue the fleet-footed animal's innate desire to run. He could do nothing but hang on and hope Sleipner would grow tired and come to a halt of his own accord.

  Brendan soon had Sleipner in sight, and he could easily discern from the helpless bobbing of his rider that the animal was running out of control. When the horse veered oflF the path to cross a nearby meadow, Brendan urged gky Dancer to put an even greater effort into the chase. When the stallion responded, they began to close the distance between them.

  Soren saw the succession of stone walls in the distance and knew while Sleipner might clear them all, he probably wouldn't. He clung to the speeding horse, his heart pounding in his chest in time with his mount's thundering hoofbeats, and he shut his eyes tightly as they reached the first wall. He felt a surge of power as Sleipner's feet left the thick

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  grass, and in the next instant he was nearly thrown forward over the horse's head when the spirited stallion's hooves returned to earth. When the ground did not rise up to smack him in the face, he peered ahead cautiously, only to find the second wall mere seconds away. Tears streamed down his face as he imagined himself lying in the dirt, a heap of badly broken bones, and he again closed his eyes. The wind stung his cheeks, making Sleipner's progress seem all the more swift, and Soren uttered a wild scream of terror as the stallion's feet left the ground for the second time.

  Not realizing that only paralyzing fear kept Soren in the saddle, Brendan began to think the boy might be a better rider than he had first thought. He had no business to ride J0m's horse, however, and that was Brendan's sole concern. He could not overtake Sleipner as he gathered speed to leap, for that might cause the horse to break his stride and fail to clear a wall, resulting in a disastrous fall for both horse and rider. Instead, he would have to come alongside the runaway stallion, leap the next wall with him, then force Sleipner to run parallel to that barrier until he could reach out to catch him. It sounded like a good plan to him, and while he had no way to explain it to Sky Dancer, he had found the white stallion remarkably responsive and did not doubt the horse would follow his unspoken commands.

  They were nearing the third wall when out of the comer of his eye Soren caught a glimpse of Sky Dancer's glossy white coat. While he couldn't imagine who had had the audacity to ride his father's horse, he took heart in the fact that help was so near. Not wanting to embarrass himself by falling now, with a brave effort he kept his seat as Sleipner cleared the third wall with another effortless leap. When Sky Dancer's rider headed them off, then reached over to pull the reins from his hands, he opened his mouth to shout a hearty thanks until he saw his rescuer was a bare-chested stranger with the meanest expression he had ever seen.

  Brendan slid off Sky Dancer's back the instant he had brought Sleipner to a halt. He then pulled Soren off the sweat-soaked bay and, kneeling in the grass, turned the boy over his knee and commenced to give him the spanking he deserved for riding his cousin's horse without permission.

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  By the time Erik reached them, he had punished the reckless boy to his satisfaction and released him. Soren then stood sobbing pathetically and rubbing his bruised behind.

  While Erik knew Soren had gotten exactly what he deserved, he did not understand how Brendan could possibly have thought that he had the right to reprimand him. Even though he had no experience with slaves, he was certain they were never allowed to strike their master's children. He didn't know whether he was more angry with Brendan or Soren. While his half brother had already taken the beating he had earned, he would not let Brendan escape without equally harsh punishment. Erik was not a man to make rash judgments, though, and he decided to wait until he had returned home to talk the matter over with Dana. Then he would take whatever action they deemed best.

  Glaring down at them, his violet eyes flashing with purple sparks of rage, Erik delivered a scathing rebuke. ''You are both equally guilty of willfully endangering the lives of valuable horses, and that is inexcusable. Since neither of you may be able to walk when I finish with you, get home as best you can. I will deal with you when you get there." Without dismounting, he circled Sky Dancer and Sleipner, grabbed up their trailing reins, and led them away to find a way out of the meadow that did not require the horses to leap the walls
a second time.

  Brendan still thought he was in far less trouble than he would have been had Sleipner been injured, and he hurriedly climbed over the wall to begin what he knew would be a long and tiring walk. ''Hurry up," he called over his shoulder, "or we won't get back to your farm before dark."

  Soren brushed away the last of his tears, but he didn't budge. Danish boys were considered men at twelve, even if they remained at home several more years, and his father had always encouraged him to display a bold spirit. He doubted Erik would have punished him for riding Sleipner if this slave had not interfered.

  "Who are you to give me orders?" the boy shouted hoarsely At first he had not known who the abusive man was, but once he had seen the scars on his back, Soren knew he had to be J0m's thrall. He was sick of taking

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  orders not only from his mother, but from Dana and Erik too. He wouldn't allow a slave to talk to him in so abrasive a manner.

  Brendan did not turn to reply, but kept right on walking. He certainly didn't want the company of the spoiled brat he knew Soren had to be. The boy could walk home alone, for all he cared, and he would refuse to take the blame if he got lost on the way.

  When Brendan didn't wait for him, Soren didn't know what to do. He was still shaking from the fright of his wild ride and ready to cry again at being made to walk home. He had expected Erik to be happy that he was safe rather than angry because he had ridden J0m's horse, since J0m would never have to know about the incident.

  Nothing ever went his way, Soren grumbled to himself as he started over the wall. If only he could have gone with his father, then he could have shown everyone he could do a man's work. Why did he have to be left behind as though he were a child when he was nearly grown? Reciting his oft-repeated complaints about the way he was treated, Soren followed Brendan home, but he trailed at a distance so he didn't have to speak to the man again.

  Dana's eyes smoldered with fury as she listened to Erik's account of how Brendan had dared to ride Sky Dancer to overtake Soren. "I would send him back to Grena's at first light, but I know my mother would never allow it, since she won't go back on her word to her sister. We can't let her hear about this, though. Oh, Erik, what are we going to do?" the distraught redhead asked with an exasperated sigh. ''We can forbid Soren to ride for a good long while, but his crime is a small one compared to Brendan's. Do you think he actually wants me to whip him? Is he so perverse he enjoys pain?"

  "That's something I'd not considered, but yes, I think if any man could relish pain, it would be he." Erik was leaning against the gate, his eyes scanning the path for the first sign of Soren and Brendan's return. *'If he were one of the servants, I'd fire him and send him away this very afternoon. Since we can't get rid of him so easily, we will

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  either have to whip him or lock him up. Which do you want to do?^'

  Dana paced up and down by his side, her expression as dark as her thoughts. *'Grena never should have asked this favor of us."

  "The problem is that she didn't ask us. She asked Freya. Unfortunately, we are the ones who are faced with the disagreeable task of handling the man. I won't make the' mistake of going after him again with my fists when we are so even a match, but we must think of a suitable way to punish him because I'm afraid we are going to be forced to use it again and again."

  Since that was so likely a possibility, Dana suggested a novel way to discipline the man. "Frankly, I'd like to chain him naked in Grena's yard and let her women have their fill of him, since he seemed to find their attentions so distasteful."

  "Dana," Erik chided with a low chuckle. "That is fiendishly clever, but the man has to stay here, remember?"

  While she was reluctant to abandon her idea, Dana knew he was right. "It's plain from the scars on his back that a whipping doesn't improve his attitude. As angry as I am with him, there's too great a risk I might beat him to death anyway, so I suppose we'll have to confine him in one of the storehouses." She turned to look at the row of buildings nearby, wondering which to choose.

  "We can't keep him in the one with food, for that would be like putting a mouse in a sack of grain. It will have to be one of the others," she mused aloud.

  "Since Haakon has taken most of the furs for trading, why not use the one for storing furs?" Erik suggested.

  "What are the chances he will set it on fire?"

  "With himself locked inside? Not likely."

  Dana continued to pace, wondering if merely confining Brendan would be harsh enough treatment to inspire him to become cooperative. When no more attractive strategy had occurred to her by the time he and Soren arrived, she showed no reluctance to punish him despite her misgivings about the effectiveness of her plan.

  When Soren began to complain of being mistreated, Dana quickly silenced him and sent him inside, promising to deal

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  with him later in private. She then turned her full attention to Brendan. The haircut and shave had improved his appearance enormously, but she tried to ignore his good looks. After all, it was his behavior to which she objected. Still, the fact he was even more handsome than she had first imagined proved an unwelcome distraction.

  ''Do you have something to say for yourself? I can't imagine that you will have an excuse for taking my father's horse after Erik told you no one is allowed to ride him, but perhaps that is only because I am not eager to break every rule I hear."

  Brendan thought the color which anger imparted to Dana's cheeks was wonderfully attractive, but he knew she wouldn't enjoy hearing such a compliment from him. *'Since I am the one who rode Sleipner here, I am responsible for him until he is returned to Grena's stable. Because I knew I could not overtake him on any other mount, I had no choice but to take your father's."

  "No choice?" Dana scoffed. "That's utter nonsense. We have many swift mounts."

  "But none as swift as Sky Dancer. Erik told me so himself," Brendan contradicted. "You should be thanking me for catching up to your brother before he was thrown instead of criticizing how I did it. Is Sky Dancer more important to your father than a son's life?"

  Erik knew that would depend on which son was endangered. He turned the full force of his anger on Brendan. "First you were concerned about Sleipner, and now about Soren? You are a liar who cares about nothing but yourself. A thrall who will not obey his master is worthless, and that's exactly what I'll tell J0m when he returns home."

  Fearing a shouting match between Erik and Brendan would quickly produce blows, Dana stepped forward to take charge before Brendan could respond with the bitter retort she was certain was already on his lips. "You will come with me, Brendan. I think perhaps a few days of solitude will do you good. You obviously need time to reflect on your actions since coming here so that you can improve them."

  Brendan continued to return Erik's hostile stare. He didn't

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  understand why Dana gave the orders rather than her brother when Erik was five years her senior. He wondered if the whole family behaved as strangely as these two did. Truly, they did seem to have been more worried about the white stallion than Soren, and he decided Haakon must be the worst of fathers to have produced such sorry children who cared so little for each other.

  '*You will come with me," Dana repeated before turning away. As they walked to the building, she removed the key to the storehouse where furs were kept from her brooch. Once unlocked, the door swung open on well-oiled iron hinges to reveal the paneled interior. There were shelves from floor to ceiling, but there were no more than two dozen furs resting on them now. With the door closed, no light and little air entered the storehouse, but she was certain Brendan would not suflFocate. Someone had left a bucket lying nearby, and she gave it a push with her foot to roll it inside.

  "I'll see that someone comes to escort you to the privy occasionally, but you may use that bucket if they are late."

  Only a narrow beam of the late afternoon sun
light lit the smallest of the farm's storehouses, and while Brendan had no desire to enter, he would not let Dana see his hesitance. He marched through the door and turned to face her, his expression still one of cocky defiance.

  "How long am I to stay here?" he asked.

  "That depends on how long it takes you to mend your ways. Take off your breeches," Dana ordered brusquely.

  Brendan was certain he couldn't possibly have understood her. "What did you say?"

  "You heard me. Take oflF your breeches. They don't fit, and I'm going to throw them away. I told you you had to cut your hair, shave, and wear clothes that fit if you were to have supper. You're still in the ill-fitting breeches you were wearing this morning, so do not expect anything to eat tonight. Now hand them to me. I have three brothers, so I can assure you I will not faint at the sight of an unclothed male."

  Brendan clamped his teeth together so hard that his jaws began to ache, but he didn't reach for the button at his waistband. While he had never mixed with any of his

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  master's other slaves or servants, he had been lover to more than one mistress, and while he hated what Dana was, he couldn't deny that he found her haunting beauty impossible to ignore.

  Thinking an attraction as powerful as the one she exerted over him must be returned, he spoke in a seductive, honey-smooth whisper. "What is it you really want, Dana? If it's me, then we can strike a bargain. If you'll take me for your lover, I'll follow each of your orders gladly."

  At that astonishing offer, Dana's mouth dropped open, but in the next second she recovered her senses. "How dare you!" she screamed, the fury of her temper now impossible to control. She stepped inside the storehouse, grabbed ahold of his waistband, and just as she had anticipated, the worn fabric of Brendan's breeches ripped as easily as his kirtle had. She had expected him to be wearing linen drawers, and when she discovered he wasn't, it was too late to regret the haste of her actions because his breeches were already ruined.