by Andromeda -
England was not a united kingdom at all. It was instead several fractured kingdoms, all ruled by different lords and kings who were almost always at war with each other. The two most powerful kings in the region, however, was King Cadewyn and King Gruffudd. Both men held considerable seizes of land within the country, and were main rivals for power. However, recently, they had signed a treaty of peace, and then sealed the peace by having their children wed for their descendants to rule both their kingdoms.
Gruffudd was the first to hear about the raiders, but the king decided to brush it off. Over the years, he had heard of several different raiders who came to England’s shores, only to be rebuffed by England’s defenses. So, to him, these people would be taken care of rather quickly and be sent away.
They didn’t.
Instead, the Norsemen grew bolder and began to attack larger homes, striking fear into more and more people.
When Cadewyn heard about them, he was intrigued and wished to know more about them. However, when he received a messenger from Gruffudd, his ally told him to not have any kinds of dealings with these ‘savages’, as he called them. To Gruffudd, these people were nothing more than wild dogs, who devoured everything in their path.
“We must wipe them out,” Gruffudd said in his letter. “I am sending a small army to water the ground with their blood.”
Cadewyn did not respond. Instead, he sent his own messenger, a scout to watch the Norsemen to see if they really were the savages that Gruffudd claimed.
✯✯✯✯✯✯✯
The fire crackled as Rashida tried her best to read a new book, taken from a nearby home that the party had raided and then burned to the ground. She had taken several different volumes of books, and was already on her fourth one. These people were strange, and their culture interested her.
They followed a single god, a man who didn’t exactly have a name. He had a son, named Jesus, and he was born of a virgin. These people called themselves Christians, and this confused her as she wondered how someone could be born of a virgin, and how could there be only one god. There was too much in the world for him to be in control of it all. Like Bastet is the goddess of family, love and cats, while the goddess childbirth was Tawaret, the hippo goddess. Surely, it is better for many gods to be in power, and the ability to pray that certain one is best?
The flap to their tent opened, and when she looked over her shoulder, she saw Alrik step inside. He dropped his sword belt to the side of their bedroll and tilted his head at her.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Reading,” she answered.
“Again?” he asked. “You’ve been reading for hours.”
“These things interest me,” she answered before she turned back to look at the book.
“I see something that interests me…” Alrik said as he looked her over.
She was dressed in a light nightgown, and he could see her perfect outline in it, which made his desire for her rise. Bending down, he crawled over and kissed her calves, moving his lips up her body. Rashida chuckled and playfully pulled away.
“Alrik…” she laughed. “Not now…”
He frowned and sat up, pulling his shirt off and unbuckling his belt and pants. “And why not?” he asked as his hands crept under her gown.
“I’m busy,” she laughed at the feel of his fingers.
“So am I. I want to have sex with the woman of my dreams,” he answered.
He pushed her gown up to her waist, bearing her perfectly round bottom to the flickering firelight. Bending down, he kissed and then gently bit the plump flesh, before he kissed up her back and to her shoulder.
“Alrik…” she moaned softly, unable to resist.
He grinned at that. “You know what I think?” he whispered in her ear. “You need a break, and I’m going to give you one.”
Quickly, he pushed down his pants and got on top of her. Parting her legs, he kept her pressed down against the bedroll and gently entered her. Both moaned softly as her body yielded to his touch like it always did. His lips to her neck, he began to move his hips. Slowly, he withdrew and then sharply pushed deep into her, making her jolt but softly moan.
“It’s been…forever since I’ve been inside you,” he whispered to her.
“It’s been less than 12 hours,” she said back with a soft smile.
“Like I said, forever,” he said with a smile.
“You are an animal sometimes,” she teased.
“But I’m your animal,” he said back with a smile.
“True,” she said with a smile.
As his pace increased, Rashida panted softly, her hands gripping the bedroll tighter as his body pushed deeper within hers. His hand moved down and reached into her gown, a firm hand on her breast, massaging it as he felt her pressed against himself. They moved as one, they breathed as one. In Rashida’s mind’s eye, she saw flashes of a couple doing this same thing.
It was a blond-haired woman with a thick golden necklace around her neck, her pale flesh pressed tight against her husband’s tan. His large hand was on her breast, fondling as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside the love of his life. His grey eyes glittered with desire as he groaned softly in her ear. Odin and Freyja.
Rashida knew them, any Seiðr would. Odin and Freyja, the eternal lovers who everyone looked up to. Everyone wished to go to their tables when they died. To tell the god and his goddess of the great things done in their name. All wished to be a part of their worlds, yet as Alrik pushed deeper, Rashida came to a startling conclusion that shocked her.
She and Alrik…were them. Their vessels here on earth. Astrid had called Rashida blessed among Seiðr. Her power had no match other than the goddess herself, and if she was Freyja’s blessed…then that must have made Alrik, Odin’s. Alrik was already known for his great wisdom and quick wit.
The young man pulled away from his beloved and turned her around so that she was on her back. Reaching down, he tore open the gown and tossed it away so that he could look at her bare body. Putting his arms under her, he lifted her up and settled her into his lap so that he could look into her green eyes.
“I want to marry you,” he whispered as he began to thrust into her.
“W…What?” she groaned. This caught her by surprise.
“I want…to marry you,” he said again. “You are mine, and the only way to make you officially mine…is to marry you.”
“B…But what if—” she began to say, but Alrik silenced her protest by pressing his lips to hers.
“Say yes,” he pleaded as he increased his pace. “Say yes.”
She had to stop fighting her emotions. She had to stop trying to double think herself. This man, this man who loved her, wanted to marry her. She would be a wife, she would be the mother of his children, and he wouldn’t ever leave her. All this and more she knew. So why did she doubt herself?
Her hands reached up as she tangled them in his long hair. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, yes, yes.”
With those words, Alrik felt his heart almost burst with joy and he began to drive himself deeper and harder into her wonderful body. Those words spurred him forward to plant his seed within her body again. Only this time, he wasn’t going to stop until she was carrying his child when they leave this place.
As he slammed her down on him, his manhood pushed in deep as they both cried out in release. His seed was unleashed, and as they fell back on the bedroll, panting to catch their breaths, his hand caressed her stomach, a silent prayer to the gods on his lips.
✯✯✯✯✯✯✯
The army was sensed by Rashida one early morning. Her eyes snapped open as she felt the thundering of hooves and the stomping of metal boots through the earth. She sat up. Alrik’s heavy arm was around her waist and weighed her down at first, but she was quickly able to get up.
“Alrik,” she whispered as she shook him. “Alrik, wake up. We have to get dressed, they are coming.”
Alrik opened a sleepy eye. “Who is comi
ng?”
“Soldiers,” she answered. “I can sense it. The earth is telling me.”
“How many?” he asked
“More than twice our number,” she answered. “We have to tell your father.”
Quickly, they both dressed and went to Henrik’s tent. After they woke him up and told him what was going on, he ordered that all the warriors be awoken and ready for battle. He looked at Rashida, never happier that they had brought her along, as without her, they most likely would have been slaughtered in their sleep.
The moon was full and high in the sky, so it made visibility quite easy, and since they had strategically placed their camp on the top of a hill, it made it easier to see who was coming. The army was seen in the distance with bobbing lights that were torches and there were so many of them.
“Rashida, I want you to stay far away from the battle,” Alrik told her as they stood on the hill.
“What?” Rashida asked. “Why?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said. “If we had just made a child, I do not wish harm to come to either of you. If you see the battle not in our favor, I want you to promise me that you will flee and return home.”
“I am not leaving your side,” she said firmly. “The gods have brought us together, and they will not separate us. Not now, not ever.”
Alrik frowned. He didn’t want her to be harmed, but he also knew that she was a stubborn woman and wouldn’t listen. In fact, he knew that she’d do the opposite of anything that he told her to do.
“Fine then, but at least stay by my side,” he said.
She nodded. “Alright.”
As the sun rose, the army could be better seen and it was massive. Almost two hundred men, it seemed, were waiting for them. Two men under a white flag rode out, both heavily armed and dressed for war.
Henrik looked to Alrik and Rashida. “You two, come with me.”
Alrik wanted to refuse, but he knew that right now wasn’t the time. So, he got a single horse for both he and Rashida to share and told her to stay silent no matter what happened. The woman nodded, and took his hand as he swung her up. Another warrior rode with them as they trotted down to meet the two soldiers.
“You are trespassers here,” the first man said in a sharp tone. “You have no right to be here.”
“We are simple passersby,” Henrik said back, his tone cool.
“Do not make me laugh,” the man barked. “You are nothing more than savages. Killing our men and violating our women and children.”
“We did no such thing,” Henrik said. “I have a code of honor. Hurting women and children angers the gods, and won’t get you into Valhalla.”
The man scoffed. “Pagans…Of course, I should have known. Only animals like you would do something like this. By order of my brother, King Gruffudd, I order you to leave our land!”
“The only king we listen to is my father, King Henrik,” Alrik said. “And you are not in the position to make threats.”
The man turned to glare at him, but when he saw Rashida’s green eyes looking over his shoulder, he frowned. “What is that?” he asked.
Alrik glanced at Rashida and then moved her shoulder to tell her to hide back behind him. “She does not concern you,” he said. “But know this: we do not take orders from you.”
The man smirked. “I hoped you would say that. You will all be dead by midday.”
“That is for the gods to decide,” Henrik said as he kicked his horse.
He and Alrik swung their horses around to leave, and as they did, the hairs on the back of Rashida’s neck stood on end. She turned her head around just in time to see the archer knock an arrow. He let it go, and quickly, she acted.
Her hand thrust out, and the arrow stopped mere inches from the back of Henrik’s head. Henrik and Alrik turned around in shock while the two Englishmen’s jaws dropped. Rashida pointed the arrow at the man who fired it, and it went flying, burying itself into his head and knocking him off his horse.
“A witch,” the Englishman said as he looked to Rashida. “Kill it!”
He nodded to another man to knock another arrow, but Alrik and Henrik kicked their horses into a gallop. Within minutes, they were back on the hill and in the safety of their warriors, but the English army was marching towards them.
“Archers!” Henrik yelled. “Get ready!”
Alrik helped Rashida down from the horse, and he was not happy. “What did I say?”
“You said not to speak,” she said. “You said nothing about saving your father from those men who clearly have no honor.”
“They know of you now,” Alrik snapped. “They’ll try and kill you!”
“I’m not afraid of them,” Rashida said firmly.
“And neither am I,” Alrik said. “But you needed to think!”
She sighed, bowing her head. “I’m sorry.”
Alrik cupped her chin and lifted her face to look into her eyes. “I just don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said softly, stroking her cheek. “So please…think before you act.”
“I will,” she said.
He smiled and kissed her. The moment their lips touched, he felt an ache in his groin that told him to press her against the nearest tree, or pull her on top of him, but he knew now was not the time. Now was the time for battle.
They got their weapons, and Rashida took her place alongside the other archers as they waited for Henrik’s signal. The Englishmen got closer and closer, slowly working themselves up the hill and then Henrik nodded. All the archers released their bowstrings as a flood of arrows shot forth. The Englishmen all screamed as several caught arrows in the chest, head or heart. Those who had shields quickly raised them, but those who didn’t, all died instantly.
“Now!” Henrik yelled.
The warriors all unleashed their battle cries as they all ran forward. They always fought as if they weren’t afraid of death because they weren’t. To die fighting, to die as a warrior put you at Odin’s table. It sent you to Valhalla where eternal life awaited you until Odin called for you again. Unlike the Englishmen, the Norse looked forward to death and welcomed it with open arms.
Rashida did as Alrik said and stayed by his side, though she kept her eye on him almost as much as he did her. She watched as he fought with two axes, and she was secretly proud to have both a fierce warrior as well as a loving man in her bed and who wished to marry her. While she nearly wasn’t as good as a fighter as he was, she was a good enough archer and it helped whenever anyone tried to come close. Bastet was at her side too, using her speed and agility to take down many soldiers who dared come their way.
Suddenly, a man rushed forward and tackled Rashida to the ground. “Damn witch,” he spat.
“Get off me!” she yelled.
Green fire ignited behind her eyes as a thick vine burst from the ground and flew at the man. He grunted as it went through his chest and heart, pinning him to the ground as he coughed up blood.
“Rashida!” Alrik yelled.
“I’m fine,” she said as she stood to her feet. “But I think…I can turn this into our favor.”
She raised her hands and the ground gently began to tremble as she summoned her power. “Mor natur, levende…!”
Thick vines exploded from the ground and flew at the Englishmen. Controlled by Rashida, they attacked all whom she considered to be an enemy. There was no escape for anyone. All the Norsemen had to do was sit back and watch with amazement as the vines did their work. Before long, all the Englishmen, save the commander and one other.
Henrik walked to him slowly, his face covered in blood and smirked. “Well then, it looks like we are in the position to negotiate.”
“I don’t negotiate with heathens,” the man spat. “The only reason you won is because you harbor an unholy witch. She deserves to be burned.”
Alrik took a step forward, but Henrik held out his hand and then smirked at the proud man. “You shouldn’t be worrying about her…you should be worrying about us.”
Chapter Twenty-One: Forced Tribute
Alrik smiled softly as he looked at Rashida’s sleeping form beside him. Her chest slowly rose and fell, her nose wrinkled as she softly snorted and then smiled in her sleep, all which Alrik loved about her.
Quietly, he got up from their bedroll, pulled on a pair of trousers and left the tent. As he stretched his back and heard the satisfying crunch of his joints, he walked to a large basin that held water and splashed some on his face. His blond hair flopped over his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the camp. Almost everyone was asleep, except for the watchers, and he decided to get up and take a quick walk before Rashida woke.
It was quiet, except for an occasional soft grunt or moan that came from a tent shared by a couple who wanted to partake in the game of love. That made him smile, and he wondered if any children would be conceived on this raiding party. A couple most likely if the gods smiled down upon them.
As he walked to the top of the hill to look down, movement in the distance caught his attention. It was a single rider who held a white flag that flapped in the gentle breeze.
“My lord, shall I wake the king?” a watcher asked Alrik.
“Yes, do it,” Alrik said with a nod. “I’ll hold your post until you return.”
The man nodded and rushed off to do as he was told, while Alrik turned back to the approaching rider. Within moments, Henrik was at his side with two horses.
“You’re coming with me,” Henrik said in a voice that broke no argument.
Alrik frowned slightly and glanced back to his tent where a sleeping Rashida lay. She was naked under their cover, and he wanted to hurry back to wake her up the same way he’d done almost every morning: with his face between her legs. But he knew that his father needed him right now, so he swung himself upon the horse and they both galloped down the hill.
This messenger looked different than the men who attacked them before. He was wearing completely different clothes and he bowed his head when he saw Henrik and his son.