By love enslaved

by Conn, Phoebe

  Erik leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest as he waited. He wasn't surprised to find the Celt as well-endowed below the waist as he was above, but he couldn't help but wonder just how much of the handsomely built slave Dana had observed.

  'The knife Dana carries is as sharp as her tongue. You mustn't provoke her again," he advised calmly.

  Brendan noted that the direction of Erik's glance was focused squarely on his crotch, but he had never heard of anyone castrating a slave. He did not wish to be the first to suffer that misfortune, however. Pretending not to understand Erik's remark, he sat down to put on his boots and fasten the laces on the leggings he had been given. When he got to his feet, he waited for Erik to move out of the way, then walked along beside him to the privy the servants used. When he came out, Erik marched him straight back to the storehouse, but then paused at the door.

  "Freya wishes to speak with you in the morning. If you succeed in impressing her favorably, I'll let you work in the stable tomorrow and provide all the food you can eat. If not, well, then you'll just have to spend the day in this small, dark storehouse with perhaps a scrap of bread. The choice is your. Make it a wise one."

  Bristling under the unwanted advice, Brendan sought more information than Erik had given. 'T thought you said Prey a was ill."

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  "No, I said she hasn't been well. There's a diflFerence." When Brendan nodded, Erik was glad he understood. ''She is dearly loved by us all, and you must treat her with all the respect and courtesy you possess. Since we have seen none, I can only hope you will learn how to behave by tomorrow."

  "I thought it was Dana you wanted me to please." That was exactly what Brendan wanted to do too, although not in the way Erik would imagine.

  "Dana will be satisfied with your behavior if Prey a is," Erik informed hirn coolly. "Good night." As soon as the slave had crossed the threshold, Erik closed and locked the storehouse door. He wasn't certain he had made any impression on the man, but he hoped Brendan had sense enough to do what was in his ONvn best interests.

  Dana had stepped outside for a breath of air before preparing for bed, and while neither Erik nor Brendan had seen her as they walked across tfie yard, she had seen them. In Erik's clothes, Brendan resembled a Dane so closely she had not immediately recognized him. Then she had been filled with shame over the flutter of excitement that had caused her heart to skip a beat when he had first come into view. She had repeatedly told herself that Brendan's appearance was totally irrelevant, and she knew she was right. He might be bright, attractive, and clearly possessed of a great deal of courage, but that didn't make up for the vileness of his nature. That memory of his suggested bargain brought a renewed flush of anger to her cheeks, and she hurried back inside before Erik escorted him back to the storehouse, for she did not want to suffer the torment of watching the graceful pride in the impossible slave's long stride a second time that night.

  Immediately engulfed in darkness, Brendan fumbled with the buttons on his new shirt, and succeeding in freeing them, he then yanked it oflF over his head. He lay the light woolen garment on the closest shelf so it wouldn't get wrinkled while he slept. Then realizing he didn't want to sleep, he began to pace the narrow space near the door.

  Two Norsemen and three Danes had claimed him as their

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  property before J0m, and while he had hated them all equally, he had never found himself in so confusing a situation as his present one. While Erik was not truly friendly, he had displayed none of the outright meanness Brendan had seen so often. Nor could he truthfully describe Dana as cruel, and he would not deny that the fire of her temper intrigued rather than repelled him.

  It would be quite a challenge to tame a woman with her spirit. He longed to possess not only her shapely body, but to hold her heart in the palm of his hand. He made a tight fist then, as though he had already accomplished that impossible feat and could crush both her spirit and emotions in one masterful gesture.

  He knew such thoughts were dangerous, and yet they were only thoughts. What harm could they do when he had nothing better to occupy his mind? He would reside on Haakon's farm all summer—surely that was time enough to win any woman's heart. He had learned that both she and Erik held Haakon in such high esteem that they would not disregard hex wishes no matter how dire the situation. Now it seemed Freya might be feared too, or was it merely love that made them want to please her, as Erik had said? Whatever the reason, neither of them would take any action without first thinking of the consequences. That might be seen as a strength by some, but in his view, it was a weakness he planned to use to his own advantage.

  Dana might fight the prospect of taking him for a lover, but he was confident it was only a matter of time before she succumbed, for he had seen the keen interest in her eyes earlier despite her attempt to hide it. If he were truly clever, he would soon have not only a magnificent mistress, bu4his freedom as well. That thought was so pleasant that when he removed the rest of his clothes and stretched out on the bearskin, he fell asleep instantly and had the most amusing dreams the whole night through.

  CHAPTER V

  I Dana had never thought of herself as a coward, but when

  I Erik was ready to bring Brendan into their home she chose

  I to sit some distance away from her mother, discreetly screened by the women working at the looms. She was far too curious about what might transpire to leave the house as Soren had, but she didn't want to provide the contentious

  ; slave with another opportunity to insult her. She wanted' only to listen without being drawn into the conversation she feared could not possibly go well. She trusted her mother, however, to handle the man without losing her temper. When she heard the door open, she leaned back into the

  I shadows, but her senses were keenly alert.

  ' Erik had insisted that Brendan wash and shave again that morning before meeting Freya. Preferring to be clean, the

  ; Celt had not argued since it was always to his advantage to look his best when he met a new mistress. He could not help but wonder what sort of woman Freya might be, but he hoped she was not nearly so easily provoked to anger as her eldest daughter.

  . As they entered the hall, they passed first through the

  • area where the meals were prepared. Brendan attempted to ignore the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread, but it

  I taunted his senses with poignant memories of home. The gnawing hunger with which he had awakened had yet to be assuaged, and while he rebelled inwardly at the crudity of Erik's tactics, he had to admit they worked. After going nearly a full day without food, he feared he would have little resistance no matter what Freya demanded of him. He

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  was willing to agree to perform the most menial of chores provided she would give him a good meal.

  Before Erik led Brendan into the hall, Freya had been concentrating on making the tiny stitches necessary to fashion a new hood for one of the falcons. When she heard the men approaching, she lay the piece of glove-soft leather-aside and looked up into the bright blue eyes of a far more handsome young man than she had been led to expect. Grena was wrong, she thought to herself, for any woman would find Brendan attractive, not merely a few. He had not only a pleasing appearance, but also a powerful build which conveyed the unmistakable impression of both strength and courage.

  His features, while definitely masculine, were so finely sculpted that it was immediately apparent he was no peasant who had been dragged from his fields in Erin to till those of her homeland. No, this was no humble farmer, nor was he a mere stablehand who possessed extraordinary skill with horses. He was someone else entirely, and greatly intrigued, she wanted to know precisely who and what he was.

  As soon as Erik had introduced the remarkable slave, Freya began to question him. Her voice was light, enticing rather than commanding a response, just as Dana's had been the fi
rst time she had spoken to him. 'Trom where do you come, Brendan, and what do your people do there?"

  Freya's golden-red curls were drawn back into a knot at her nape and caught the same bright blue ribbons she had used that day on Thora's hair. Her silk chemise and sleeveless wool tunic were as fine as the garments Dana wore, and Brendan glanced around quickly, hoping to find the young woman nearby. When he saw only Thora and half a dozen servants looking his way, he could scarcely hide his disappointment. He had been certain that Dana would have been anxious to see him again.

  Disgusted with himself for overestimating the fiery young woman's interest in him, Brendan turned his attention back to Freya. That she and Dana resembled each other so closely had given him something of a start when he had first entered the long, wide hall. Freya was also a beauty, but a very fragile one, while Dana's vibrant good looks glowed with the bloom of health.

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  Frowning slightly, he tried to recall what it was Freya had asked him, and as a result his expression mirrored the curiosity in hers. It was plain to him where Dana had gotten her long dark lashes, since Freya had them too, but in her case they framed eyes of a clear blue rather than a haunting violet. Her features held the same sweet perfection as her daughter's, and he was relieved to see no evidence of the underlying tension which erupted so easily into fits of temper with Dana. His immediate impression of Freya was one of graceful tranquillity.

  Brendan's glance swept over the soft folds of Freya's loose-fitting garments, noting they failed to disguise her far too slender figure. Her hands were resting lightly in her lap, displaying the well-manicured nails of a lady who did nothing more strenuous than an occasional bit of sewing. Her fair skin was translucent, allowing the network of blue veins crossing the backs of her hands to easily show through. He drew in a deep breath as he wondered why Erik had lied to him. Freya was not recovering from an illness. She looked to him as though she was slowly sinking to her death.

  "Where I am from matters not at all now that I am here. As for my people, I'll not speak of them with you," he stated firmly.

  While disappointed in his refusal to provide information about himself, Freya did not insist. It was obvious to her that he was a man of great pride, and she assumed that, like Haakon, once he had taken a stance on an issue he would not change it. "Grena told me you are good with horses. Is that true?"

  Brendan shrugged slightly. Then, realizing by her question she must know nothing of Soren's wild ride and how he had come to the boy's rescue, he glanced over at Erik. The dark-haired young man nodded, urging him to respond. "Some say that I am," Brendan admitted modestly. He smiled slightly then, wondering what he could get from Erik in exchange for his silence. What would Freya do if she learned Soren had ridden Sleipner? Surely she would not be pleased, since Erik and Dana had been so upset by it.

  Naturally observant, Freya watched what she considered an evil glint fill Brendan's gaze and, growing cautious.

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  decided to bring the interview to a close. ''My husband takes a great deal of pride in his horses, Brendan. You must give them excellent care or his anger will know no bounds. Strive to avoid that."

  After only one day, Brendan was thoroughly sick of the way everyone shook with dread at Haakon's name. Was there not a single member of his household who was not terrified of the man? He saw Thora out of the comer of his eye, and wondered if maybe the bright-eyed child might be the only one who wasn't. Before he could assure Freya that no one had ever complained about his work, his stomach rumbled so noisily that everyone in the hall heard it, and several laughed.

  Rather than being embarrassed or annoyed, Freya was relieved to suddenly have an excellent excuse to dismiss the unusual thrall. ''Erik, it's plain this man is hungry. We can't expect him to work without hearty meals to sustain his strength. See that he has all he wants to eat, and then show him what must be done."

  "I'll see to it immediately," Erik replied eagerly, equally relieved that they were being sent on their way before Brendan had created some type of unfortunate scene.

  As Erik turned away, Brendan hesitated to follow, for while he never talked about himself, he sensed how greatly his reluctance to do so had disappointed Freya. Seized with a sudden inspiration, he dropped to his knees in front of the soft-spoken woman. Grabbing her hands, he brought them to his lips and covered her palms with a flurry of adoring kisses. "Bless you for your kindness, mistress. It will not go unrewarded."

  Freya was so shocked by this totally unexpected display of gratitude she sat staring at the top of Brendan's bowed head for a long moment before she had the presence of mind to withdraw her hands from his. He had nearly flung himself across her lap in his eagerness to thank her, and when she recovered from her initial astonishment, she was quite touched by the spontaneity of his display of devotion.

  She reached out to pat his fair curls lightly, thinking she must have badly misjudged his attitude. "Get up, Brendan. Have something to eat and then see to our horses' needs. That's all I've asked of you."

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  Brendan wiped away a nonexistent tear as he rose to his feet. Uncertain if he could keep from laughing out loud, he kept his head bowed as he followed Erik out of the hall, but as soon as they had stepped out into the sunshine he broke into a wide grin.

  *'What did you expect to gain by behaving in so outrageous a manner?" Erik asked as he gave Brendan's shoulder a hearty shove, which nearly knocked the slave oflF his feet. ''I wanted you to be civil, not to worship Freya as though she were a goddess!"

  "You told me only to please her," Brendan contradicted. "You didn't say how to go about it."

  Erik let out a moan which closely resembled a menacing growl, but he didn't strike Brendan again before starting toward his house. "Come on. I'm too busy to argue with you. You must eat and get to woric. I want the stables thoroughly cleaned inside and out and each of the horses groomed."

  "Sky Dancer too?" Brendan asked as he swaggered along behind him.

  "Of course!" Erik shouted over his shoulder. "Just don't ride him again, ever."

  Brendan knew Erik was too angry to strike any bargains now, but the thrall thought that after a day to consider how best to better his situation, he would have a most intriguing deal to offer by nightfall.

  Had Brendan scanned the hall before leaving, he would have seen Dana peering around from behind a loom, her mouth again agape with wonder at the absurdity of his behavior. What idiotic scheme was the man up to now? she asked herself as she rose and went to join her mother. Had he given up on seducing her in favor of ingratiating himself with Freya? Had the man no sense of honor at all?

  Freya picked up the scrap of leather to continue sewing, then had to lay the half-finished hood aside and wipe her palms on her tunic to remove the last traces of moisture from Brendan's fevered kisses. "I don't understand why Soren has taken such a dislike to that man. He seems agreeable enough to me. More than agreeable really, if we disregard his reluctance to confide anything about his past."

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  *'I thought you would like him once you met him," Thora exclaimed happily.

  *'Let's not form our opinions until after we have seen a sample of his work," Dana offered wisely as she slid into the place at her mother's side. ''He may only be trying to fool us into thinking he's a willing worker when all the while he may try and sleep away his days in the hay."

  "He is not built like a man who shirks his share of the work," Freya mused thoughtfully. "I doubt he will prove to be lazy."

  Dana doubted that too, although she suspected Brendan would be likely to devote himself to plotting ricUculous schemes calculated to embarrass them all rather than to doing any useful work. Soren had left early that moming, and she suddenly found remaining in the house as impossible as he had.

  *'I think I'll go for a ride. Do you want to come with me, Thora?"

  "Shouldn't we wait until Brendan has had time to eat so he can sad
dle the horses for us?" the little girl inquired as she joined her mother and sister on the long bench.

  Dana had forgotten that Erik planned to assign the stable boys work to do elsewhere. "Of course, we'll wait a while longer." She sank back into the cushions, disgusted she would have to rely upon the very man she wanted to avoid to provide the mount she required.

  After Brendan had eaten a breakfast Erik considered suflRcient for three men, he had him saddle Sleipner and his horse. Shadow, and leading the black gelding, he started out for Grena's. He enjoyed riding the spirited bay for a change, but the lively animal demanded his full attention and he had no chance to think of anything witty or charming to say to Berit before he arrived at her home.

  Erik turned over J0m's horse to the stable boys, but then remained by the low structure to tighten his gelding's cinch in preparation for the trip back home. That provided him with the opportunity to surreptitiously observe the yard and gardens, but there was no sign of Berit anywhere about, and he had to face the unfortunate fact she would have no way of knowing he was there if he did not announce himself.

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  While he was not truly worried Grena would set dogs on him, he was certain she would not make him feel welcome. He felt he owed Berit an apology, though, and wanting to speak with her more than he wanted to avoid Grena's indifference, he led his horse over to her house. UUa, an elderly servant, soon answered his knock, but he declined her invitation to enter and instead asked her to convey the message to Grena that he had returned J0m's stallion from Freya's.

  When the old woman had closed the door, Erik wondered if Berit would even care that he was there. Fearing that she wouldn't, he felt increasingly foolish waiting around in hopes she would appear. When the wait grew uncomfortably long, he finally gave up the effort as useless. He turned away, but just as he raised his foot to the stirrup, the door opened again.