Viking Thrall
Joanna Davis
Copyright © 2014 by Joanna Davis
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2014
Pincushion Press
http://pincushionpress.tumblr.com/
For My Viking
Chapters
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Two Years Later
One
Esme stared out through small hole in the thick stones walls of the orphanage. She'd been born and raised here. Now as a young woman she helped to care for the children who came here in need.
It was a safe haven for the lost and alone.
Clean, well built and self sufficient, the orphanage was run by older unmarried and widowed women who wanted to retire from the world. They grew their own crops, raised their own livestock, and made their own cloth.
It was perfect.
And now it was in jeopardy.
Vikings had come to the region.
A thick cloud of smoke coming from the nearby village signaled that the ransacking was underway.
Something tugged at her skirt. She glanced down to see Petra, a four year old who had only been at the orphanage for a fortnight. The girl was uncommonly attached to Esme.
"Petra! Go and hide with the other children!"
The girl's tiny face crumpled as she let out a wail. Esme sighed and lifted the child into her arms. Of course the bairn was frightened. Esme herself was terrified and she had many years advantage over the waif!
She hurried further into the main structure toward the back entrance. There was a store house toward the back of the property. It was unassuming and built of stones, which made it difficult to burn. Underneath it though was the real secret: a root cellar that spanned the length of the building twice over.
"In you go."
Esme hauled open the wooden door and handed Petra off to one of the older children. Then she held her fingers to her lips and shut the door again.
The raiders were close. She was the fastest on her feet and left to keep watch. She knew that it put her life in jeopardy but she had to protect the children as well as the older women who had raised her and all the others.
Besides, it was possible that the Vikings could be reasoned with, right? She had a barrel of wine with which to bribe them. That's if they even came up the hill at all.
Esme resumed her post by the front gate. All was quiet. Too quiet. Something was not right.
There, by the side of the road. A wizened Viking warrior was hacking away at something. The base of a large tree.
What on earth?
She gasped as the other Vikings joined the one with the axe. Actually, they all had axes. Big, sharp, deadly looking axes.
She swallowed and closed her eyes, asking that the old ones protect them all.
That's when she saw him. Taller than the rest, with long golden hair that cascaded over his shoulders. She couldn't tell from here but it looks as though- yes- his eyes were a startling blue color.
He was uncommonly handsome, other than the rough looking leather armor and broadsword he carried. His muscles bulged in every direction, making him appear twice as big as the next largest Viking.
And they were all pretty large.
The blue eyed Viking was leaning against a tree, calmly surveying the high stone wall and thick gate. In fact, it appeared that he was looking straight at the peep hole she peering out of-
He was looking right at her.
Esme gasped and backed away from the gate, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Slowly she stepped forward and looked out again. The blue eyed warrior smiled knowingly.
He had seen her! Or at least, a small portion of her face. An eye and cheek perhaps. But it was enough. He knew she was there. And now he knew that she knew.
She dropped to her knees, her hands flat against the smooth wood of the gate. It didn't appear that they were set to continue their ransacking. They didn't appear to be doing much of anything. She lifted her face to the peep hole again.
Perhaps the stone wall would dissuade them...
Her eyes widened as the tree the old man had been hacking at started to fall with a terrible cracking noise. They lifted the trunk and carried it toward the high wall.
They were going to barge down the door!
"Wait!"
The warriors paused, looking toward the tall blond viking. He pushed away from the trunk and walked toward the door. Clearly, the leader was in no hurry to hear what she had to say.
"Aye?"
His deep voice was nothing that she would have expected. First of all, he spoke perfect Saxon. Second, it was almost… cultured. Intelligent.
Mocking.
All that he conveyed with a single word.
Esme gathered her courage.
"There is nothing inside but children and old women! No wealth, no gold. Have mercy!"
"You aren't an old woman."
That stopped her stream of words. He was right. She alone was neither very young or very old. That's why she was here to represent the others interests.
"Nay- I'm one of the orphans. I- grew up and decided to, um-"
He smirked.
"Stay on?"
"Aye! To help. Please don't harm them. There's nothing in it for you."
She held her breath as he seemed to consider his options. Of course, he had all the options while she had none. But she didn't have to let him know that she knew that now did she?
"What will you give us then? We must have something for our efforts."
"I have some fine wine to give you as a gift- a token of appreciation for leaving us in peace."
He looked startled and nodded curtly.
"Very well. Bring us the wine and we can speak on this further."
Blessings be! The villain was being reasonable after all!
This was the one idea she'd had all along. Get them drunk, charm them and send them on their way. She smiled happily and tipped the wine barrel onto it side so she could roll it out to them.
All was going according to plan.
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Magnus could not believe his eyes. He'd enjoyed bantering with the maid through the gate, which was surprising, given his temperament so far that day. Things had not gone as planned in the village. The wealth of the settlement was far less than what he'd expected, leaving him a in foul mood. But when she appeared with the wine barrel he was momentarily stunned into silence.
The girl was a beauty- the fairest he'd ever seen. Her silky dark hair framed a face of indescribable prettiness. High cheeks, full lips and large green eyes that dominated a face of heartbreaking purity. But below her slender neck, things were another matter altogether.
Even bent over as she was, he could see that the maid was all woman. Her firm high tits, narrow waist and graceful hips were made for rutting. His eyes flared as he took in her long, elegant legs. What he wouldn't give to wrap those around him as he-
"Well? Isn't anybody going to help me with this?"
He barked out a surprised laugh. The maid was brazenly admonishing them for
not helping her. The other warriors were silent, apparently as astonished as Magnus himself.
She was a spit fire that much was certain.
No one moved to help her so she shrugged and continued rolling the barrel towards them.
"By Odin what a beauty!"
"Aye, look at those tits!"
He glanced sideways at his men. The girl was about to be eaten alive. For some reason this bothered him. He glanced at her and frowned. It's not that he ever stopped his men from having their fun with a girl, but this one was special.
Magnus himself never felt the need to force a woman. But for once, he was thinking about making an exception. With her.
"Mine."
The softly spoken word brought utter silence to the group. They might grumble later, but that would be the last of it. The girl hadn't heard him but that was alright.
She'd find out that she belonged to him soon enough.
Most likely when he tossed her over his horse.
She rolled the barrel closer, nearly bumping into his feet. Then she looked up at him slowly. He saw the fear dawn in her beautiful eyes as she realized her mistake. She was too far from the gate to run.
He almost laughed as he watched her attempt to compose herself. She stood up as tall as she could and managed to look down her nose at him, even though she barely came up to his chest. Such a tiny, fiery little thing she was.
She'd make good sons.
His loins tightened at the thought.
He smiled at her to put her at ease.
"Thank you for your gift. Olric."
He jerked his head and Olric and two other men ran through the gate and inside. The maid's eyes widened in disbelief.
"But you said-"
"I said nothing. They will harm no one. But they will take anything worth the trouble."
He leaned forward and whispered to her.
"We are Vikings after all."
Her sweet little mouth dropped open in surprise. He had the sudden urge to kiss the pink rosebud. And more. But not in front of his men.
"Including you."
"What?!?"
She looked horrified as he smiled down at her benignly.
"No one will hurt you. But you'll make a fine slave."
"A- slave?"
He nodded slowly.
"My slave in fact. Come."
He took her arm and pulled her away from the gate towards their horses, partially hidden in the woods. They had little reprisal to fear from the locals but Magnus always practiced common sense. It's why he was an excellent leader.
And very efficient in a raid.
The girl was fighting him now but he paid her no mind. She was his and would come with him. He scooped her up and over his shoulder.
"Put me down."
He ignored her.
"Please! I'm going to throw up!"
He put her down and stared at her in consternation.
"Please, if you take me away the children will be very upset."
He grunted and grabbed her arm again.
"They will wail and refuse to eat! And- I'd be a terrible slave anyway. I'm an awful cook, I can't grow crops and I can't sing or sew a stitch!"
He glanced at her.
"That's alright. I won't require you to do any of those things."
"What do you need a slave for then?"
He grinned at her as he began winding rope around her hands.
"To warm my bed, of course."
Her jaw dropped open.
"But-"
"Do you always talk this much woman?"
She nodded desperately, trying to pull her hands away and he bound them.
"Yes, incessantly. I can't help it. You'll have to cut out my tongue!"
He smiled at her and tugged the ropes into a knot.
"Perhaps I have other uses for your tongue."
He'd silenced her at last. He lifted her up and plopped her on top of his horse. Olric and the others came through the gate empty handed but for a sack full of fresh bread.
Magnus lifted his hand and gestured to the road. Within minutes they were headed back down the road toward the shore where their ship awaited.
He pulled the stiff girl up against his chest, reveling at the feel of her in his arms. He decided he would wait to have her until he could see to it properly. He assumed the girl was a maid and as such would be treated with gentleness.
The first time anyway.
His shaft was hard as a rock just from the feel of her soft bottom against his loins. He leaned down to inhale the beguiling scent of her hair. He focused on the road while his body urged him to explore her with his hands.
He was about to when he heard the soft sniffling sound.
His new thrall was crying.
Two
Esme stared blindly at the road in front of them. She could not believe this had happened to her. The worst part was, it was all her fault.
Foolish, impulsive Esme just had to roll out the barrel of wine for the Viking marauders. True, they had been remarkably polite for Vikings. But she was to blame for this debacle.
She shifted in the saddle, trying to move away from the sharp object pressing into her lower back. Immediately the arm around her waist tightened, pulling her back into contact with his hard chest and his sword.
"Be still."
"You sword is poking me!"
He laughed. He was abducting her, poking her and now mocking her.
It was the final insult.
"Tis not my sword, thrall."
Without thinking Esme threw her weight to the side, rolling off the horse to land painfully on her side.
"Oof!"
She rolled to her knees and pushed against her wrapped fists to stand. Then she ran. Of course, his horse easily kept pace with her. In essence they were running down the road together, gaining her no hope of freedom. She stopped abruptly and darted into the woods, heading back the way they had came.
That would show him!
In another instant the neck of her tunic was yanked backwards. She was ready to scream in frustration when she saw the look on the Viking leader's face.
He looked amused.
This was her life and he was amused.
As if she were a kitten and he was enjoying her antics.
"Odin's blood woman! What do you think you are doing?"
She glared up at him angrily.
"Escaping you! And your foul plans!"
The giant looming over her sighed deeply as if she were dim witted. She scowled at him and stamped her foot onto his, hard.
He roared.
Esme had the good sense to step backwards with alarm. Mayhap she still had a chance to escape! She turned to run with every ounce of strength she had. Except she hadn't counted on the tree root growing just behind her. She fell backwards toward who knows what, fully expecting to injure herself grievously.
But she never hit the ground.
Esme blinked, staring up at harsh lines of the Viking's face. His blue eyes blazed with contempt and something else...
Lust.
By the old ones, he lusted for her in truth!
Esme had little experience with people from outside the walls of the orphanage and even less so with men. But she knew that the heated look in his gaze was a danger to her. She shook her head frantically.
"No, don't!"
He was holding her body against his where he still bent to catch her. His eyes were on her lips. His lids were heavy. He looked as if he might go to sleep at any moment.
"Don't what?"
"Whatever it is you are thinking of doing!"
He smiled suddenly and straightened up, bringing her with him.
And then he put his mouth on to hers.
Esme felt herself go limp at the intimacy of the act.
His lips were soft for such a large, hard man. She gasped at the strange sensation. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, truth be told…
He lifted his head and frowned at her.
"Haven'
t you ever been kissed before girl?"
"Esme."
"What?"
She had a strong suspicion that she was going to cry again. She lifted her chin, refusing to give into her tears.
"My name is Esme."
"Well Esme, you are a terrible kisser."
"How dare you! I am a virgin! How am I supposed to be good at-"
He grinned at her suddenly.
"A virgin eh?"
Now it was her turn to frown.
"You might tell me your name. Now that you've accosted me!"
He smiled at her in amusement. Then he threw her over his shoulder.
"My name is Magnus. But you can call me Master."
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Magnus loaded his woman onto the longship, well pleased with this days effort. His men were carrying all the other spoils of their raid onto the ship. But Magnus merely found a convenient spot and plopped the woman down in it.
He leaned down and offered her a sip from his wineskin.
"Here, drink."
She glowered at him, turning her face away.
"I want nothing from you, you brute."
He took a long swig from the skin.
"'Tis good. You need sustenance for the long journey ahead."
The girl glanced at him, meeting his eyes for a second. The fear he saw there was nothing new, everyone who met him was afraid. But for some reason it bothered him.
"Here, drink. I will find you some bread. And Esme, I won't hurt you."
She narrowed her eyes at him, allowing him to tip the wine skin against her lips. He watched hungrily as she suckled the teat. He could think of a hundred things to do with that mouth.
And by Odin, he would try them all before long.
Once she wasn't afraid of him anymore.
He stood and turned to find some of the fresh bread they had taken from the orphanage.
"Why won't you?"
"What?"
"Why won't you hurt me?"
He squatted again, running his hand over her silky hair.
"You have much value to me. I would never waste beauty such as yours."
Her eyes widened. She looked shocked. The girl had no idea of her beauty he realized. Somehow that made her all the more enticing.
VIKING THRALL (Historical Romance, Medieval, Viking) Page 1