The Last Viking Queen

by Taylor, Janelle

  Alysa smiled at Einar and went on. “Before we depart, we must release the slaves, as they cannot be trusted to be left here with our defenseless wounded and we cannot take time or men to feed and guard them. Different warriors will be selected to remain here as guards during each quest to tend and protect those who cannot travel. Tonight, we must celebrate the victories of our three champions. Have the slaves prepare food and drink. At dusk, we will feast.”

  Another round of cheers filled the air. The Vikings were eager and ready for a celebratory feast and the upcoming quest. Following the seven hundred and seventy-one contests, one hundred and eighty foes were either dead or wounded. That left close to two hundred men for each band, unless more were slain or injured during the quest. Almost six hundred healthy Norsemen still presented enormous odds and prowess for her countrymen to battle soon.

  Alysa turned and left the area with Trosdan at her side. She entered Eirik’s dwelling and sank wearily to his bed. She closed her blue eyes and inhaled deeply several times to release her tension. She realized she had not given her husband much thought lately and knew why: she believed Eirik was Gavin Crisdean and her love was within close proximity of her. But, she fretted, what if Eirik was not Gavin? Nay, she told herself, it had to be true! Her love was here with her!

  She sat up and looked at Trosdan, who was gathering items from his bundles. “You picked the winners, Wise One. I fear there were times when I doubted your skills and insights, but they have come true. Forgive my weaknesses.”

  The elderly man smiled and responded, “Good fear is not a weakness, my sweet princess. It makes one careful and alert. The Runes never lie or deceive; they revealed such things to me.”

  “If only they would reveal the truth about Gavin to us,” she murmured, then reclined once more.

  “There is a reason why such news is kept from us; perhaps it would harm us during this perilous time. Perhaps it is his destiny. Trust me and our gods, Alysa, and all will be right again.”

  “You are good and kind, Trosdan, and I do trust you and the gods. But it is hard not knowing of Gavin’s fate and whereabouts. Worse is not knowing if Eirik is my lost husband and what has happened to him. If only I could make certain—”

  “Nay, my princess. If you learned that Eirik is your enspelled mate, it could imperil all we have worked for not to mention our lives. Your love for him would be exposed by accident or intention. If this warrior is Gavin, he does not know it. If you rashly enlightened him, he would think us mad, liars, beguilers, dangerous foes. Until the truth is revealed, you must accept him as Eirik and treat him as a Norseman.”

  “I will obey,” she replied in a dejected tone.

  Trosdan warned sternly, “Be on guard at all times, my princess. Ask him no suspicious questions and make no reckless hints. Living as a Viking, Eirik would betray us, even if he is your enchanted Gavin.”

  “It will be as you say, Wise One,” she vowed.

  “I must release the second bird to take a message to Lord Weylin. It will tell him the contests are over and the quest is to begin in a few days. He will send word to the other kings, and all will prepare for the joint attack. Our cunning task will be over in three weeks. Once victory is ours, I will help you find your lost love.”

  Alysa smiled with misty eyes and thanked him.

  The Druid said, “Rest a while, then bathe for the feast. I must go and slip potions into the wine casks to test their strength. It is to our favor if you bewitch them with your beauty tonight. Plagued by a thirst for you, the men will drink heavily and sleep like death all night, if the potion is strong enough and I use the right amount. Do not drink from the casks, only from the wineskin which I will give to you. While they are lost to this world, I must go to the sacred temple of standing stones and offer a sacrifice to our gods. There, I must fast and pray all night for divine guidance and protection during the quest. Bar the door before you sleep, as I will not return until dawn.”

  The feast was noisy with laughter, singing, and talking. Large quantities of food and drink were consumed, by Viking and captive alike. Alysa remained at the wooden table which had been prepared for her, eating and drinking only what Trosdan placed before her. As high-spirited men came by, she chatted genially and pretended to be having a time of great enjoyment.

  Rolf and Ulf both stayed at her side, as if smugly exposing their claims on her. When Eirik made no appearance and she grew weary of entertaining the two bantering champions, she politely excused herself to stroll around to visit the wounded. As she moved about the large settlement, she wondered where Eirik was. His absence was obvious and distressing. Surely others would notice it and be curious.

  She recalled the last time they had touched, and it warmed her body. The burdens on her were enormous, and she was lonely and intimidated. She longed to be held in his soothing arms and to make love to him. Her body ached for his and her spirits were low. He had bruised her heart deeply with his mysterious departure, and his selfish actions before it. Did Gavin truly love her? Did he miss her? His disappearance was a bitter desertion to her when she needed him most. At times, her tightly leashed anger toward him surfaced anew, but mostly she missed him and yearned for his return. If only they could have a few moments alone to talk, to steal a few kisses and caresses …

  Alysa noticed how the crowd was thinning rapidly and the noise was lessening. Obviously Trosdan’s herbal potion was working by now. The drunken and drugged men were retiring for the night in their dwellings or falling asleep anywhere the potion took effect. She headed for the table to bid her people good night.

  The moon was high overhead, so the hour was late. With all the strong spirits the men had consumed and the time of night, no one should suspect Trosdan’s deceit. Rolf and Ulf had gone their separate ways during her absence, but the Druid was waiting for her.

  As he walked her to her dwelling, he reminded, “Do not forget to bar the door. I will be at the stone temple until the sun rises, praying and seeking the aid of our gods. I have taken a lamb to sacrifice, and I must consult the stars. The gods are on our side, Queen Alysa, so fear nothing and no one. The quest will be victorious.”

  The wizard’s choice of words was fortunate, as neither noticed the figure standing in the darkness near the corner of the longhouse.

  Trosdan fetched his belongings for his rituals and departed. She watched him walk toward the awesome sight of towering stones. She glanced around her. It was quiet and peaceful. Nearly all were asleep.

  Rolf had not consumed enough of the treated ale to be disabled for the night. Yet Enid had laced his last drink liberally with the love potion from Alysa. Intoxicated with lust and his loins enflamed, he hurriedly stripped Enid with insistent hands. The blond Viking tossed his willing captive upon his bed and fell atop her, driving his fiery manhood into her. He labored urgently to appease his savage need. He could not seem to have enough of her, taking her over and over until he was exhausted. Still unsated and aroused, she worked upon his body with skilled hands and lips, giving him blissful pleasure and relief.

  After pacing the floor and downing the remainder, of the wine in the leather skin to relieve her anxiety, Alysa stretched out on her bed garbed in a soft kirtle. Her head was spinning dreamily from fatigue and the heady wine. As visions of Gavin filled her mind, her body flamed with desire and ached for his touch.

  A soft knock came at the door. Drowsy, she glanced that way but did not move. It came again. She thought Trosdan must have overlooked something, as all others should be slumbering deeply. She left the bed and unbarred the door. Opening it, she smiled and asked, “What did you forget, Wise One? I was nearly asleep.”

  It was Eirik, fully alert and looking troubled. He stood there, staring at her, silent, moody, mysterious. Alysa tried to clear her wits and keep her poise. “What is it, Eirik?” she inquired, her voice quavering and her body trembling. “Where have you been?”

  Still he did not move or speak. His intense stare made her unsure of herself, enflamed
. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  Eirik grasped the edge of the door and pushed it aside so he could enter. Alysa stepped backward without protest, intrigued and enchanted. Eirik closed and barred the door. He turned to face her. He seemed to be waiting for something, some word, some sign.

  The candle burning near her bed cast a romantic glow in the room and on his handsome face, on her beloved husband’s image. His searching gaze roamed her features, and consternation was exposed there. He looked as if he had just awakened from a dream. “I had to come,” he murmured softly, his voice sounding like water moving tranquilly through a brook.

  “Why?” she inquired just above a whisper.

  As if dazed, he confessed. “You have bewitched me, my beautiful enchantress. I cannot get you off my mind. I know it is perilous to tempt fate, but I cannot help myself. My heart aches and my body burns for you. I feel as if I cannot breathe or survive if I do not make you mine. I rode swiftly for many miles trying to cool my fiery passions and to clear my muddled head. It did not work. The farther I traveled from you, the more panic I felt. I could not stop myself from rushing back to your side. Forgive my boldness in deed and word, but I am ensnared in a trap which I cannot escape. Nor do I wish to flee. I need you, Alysa, more than air or food or victory.”

  Alysa engulfed him with her loving gaze. She was weakened and enthralled by his physical changes. With shorter hair and a cleanly shaven jawline, he was Gavin Crisdean to her…. It had been many weeks since she had lain with Gavin, and it seemed to be her husband—her lost love— whom she was seeing tonight, hearing this very moment, reaching out to her. A fierce and irresistible hunger gnawed at her. Her loneliness and misery faded, and her wits deserted her. She lifted her hands and cupped his face, bringing it downward to fuse their lips in answer to his unspoken question.

  Eirik’s arms banded her body and held her possessively as his mouth ravenously assailed hers. His lips eagerly traveled her face and neck, then returned to hers. One enticing kiss dissolved into another until they were both breathless and quivering. He lifted her and carried her to the bed, lowering her at its side and fusing their gazes. Their eyes exposed their urgent desires, their willingness to challenge fate, their search for love.

  Without hesitation or inhibition, Alysa removed her gown and stood before him naked, her golden body revealed in the candlelight. Boldly she removed his tunic as she had done to Gavin in the past, the missing tattoo never entering her mind to warn her to halt her rash deed; nor did the scar upon his shadowed cheekbone stay her hands. Her hands and lips roved his chest and neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses and stirring caresses behind.

  Eirik moaned in rising desire. Never had he imagined she would respond so eagerly, so freely, so ardently, as if she, too, were uncontrollably drawn to him. He removed his clothing and pressed their naked bodies together. The contact staggered their senses. They sank to his bed, locked in a lover’s embrace.

  He smiled into her softened gaze and drove any remaining hesitation from her mind. He pulled her tightly and protectively against his hard body, and she heard the thundering of his heart. “You have captured my heart and thoughts, my beautiful enchantress. Even if the gods slay me for this offense, I must have you this night.”

  Alysa looked into his smoldering green eyes and read the truth of his words written there. “As I must have you tonight,” she replied.

  His lips fused with hers as they explored her sweet surrender. At that moment, he desired her more than any treasure, more than any honor, more than his life. He felt her very soul cry out for his possession. She wanted him to conquer her, to make their bodies one.

  Alysa’s arms encircled his torso and her fingers drifted up and down his back, a back which was so familiar to her. It was wondrous to have him in her arms again. It was stimulating to make love to him, to have him make love to her. Her mind whirled with pleasure as he stormed her senses. His touch, his nearness, were all consuming.

  Her body tingled with blissful sensations, as did his. She was alive again. She was happy again. She was where she belonged again. His hot breath teased over her face and body, causing her to tremble with anticipation. Her starving body was sensitive to his caresses, susceptible, aroused. As if discovering his virile body in her dreamy mind, her fingers roved it leisurely, enticingly, skillfully. She knew what pleased her husband, and she touched him in those ways. There seemed no inch of him which she did not caress or kiss. His bronzed body was enchanting to her. She could not get him close enough, taste him enough, touch him enough.

  His mouth feasted at her breasts and made her writhe upon his bed. Rapturous feelings assailed her and dazed her. His wild, sweet caresses drove her mad with pleasure, creating a greater hunger by the minute.

  His deft fingers trailed over her fiery flesh, halting here and there to labor lovingly in special areas. Yet her flames were not extingished, only brightened. Moans escaped her parted lips. Her fingers buried themselves in his dark-blond hair. Her mouth placed kisses everywhere they could reach. She shuddered when his experienced and gentle fingers stimulated her woman’s domain. She sensed his arousal. Closing her hand around his manhood, she brought forth a deep groan from his lips. She wanted to prolong this tantalizing stage of lovemaking, but her body would soon be consumed by the fires which were blazing out of control within her. She urged him to take her, to reclaim his lost treasure.

  For Alysa, this union was too long awaited, too long denied, too long anticipated since finding her love again. She murmured, “Take me now, Eirik, or I shall die of need for you. For this night, I am yours.”

  For Eirik, this was their first union of bodies. He had craved this woman since first sighting her. She had bewitched him, enticed him, tormented him. Hunger for her had been driving him wild. She was his queen. She was his enchantress. She was his life, his fate, his dreams. Surely he would cease to exist if he could not have her. He wanted to give her great pleasure this first time, and he was amazed by how enflamed she was by him.

  Eirik entered her, and never had he experienced anything so wonderful, so special. His hands imprisoned her beautiful face. He stared into her enslaving eyes as he set the rhythm which would bring both of them blissful release. He had not bedded a woman in a long time and his loins ached for sweet relief. But his heart ached for something more than mere physical pleasure. The need to win this woman as his own was overwhelming. She was a rare creature who could fill all his needs. He had enjoyed and sought no woman’s company more than he longed for hers. No other woman had captured his eye and heart, not since meeting this one. Only Alysa could arouse and sate him.

  His body moved with skill. He brushed his lips over her face, then fused their gazes once more. This was the only woman he needed and wanted, now and forever. Even if it was because she had cast a magical spell over him which caused him to respond only to her, he did not care. He watched passion’s glow brighten her cheeks and daze her blue eyes. Happiness filled him in knowing she enjoyed his actions, ached for more of them.

  Alysa relented to his powerful spell. She was mesmerized by his enticing gaze and intoxicated by his lovemaking. Her body moved in unison with his, and he smiled disarmingly. She clasped his face and lowered it so their mouths could labor with their bodies. Ravenously, she kissed him as her stunning release came forth.

  Eirik’s mouth muffled the cry of bliss which would have escaped her lips and possibly been overheard. The intensity of her release overjoyed him. He cast aside his weakened self-control and plundered her lips and body as he had plundered many countrysides. He guided them over crest after crest until passion’s flood subsided, then held her in his embrace, unwilling to release her even for a moment. His fingers tenderly roamed her damp flesh and his lips pressed to her hair. She was perfection; she was his. Nothing and no one would ever change that fact, he vowed.

  Alysa snuggled against him and smiled tranquilly. Soon, she was slumbering quietly in his arms.

  Eirik gazed into her radiant fac
e, still flushed from their union. His green eyes traced the curves of her naked body. She was cuddled against him where she belonged! Was it possible, he wondered, that she had truly bewitched him? If not, why had he been unable to sate his needs with other women? If he was not to be the quest victor and she knew that fact as a volva, why had she yielded to him tonight? He had overheard her words to Ulf and Rolf: “I vow, only my husband will touch me and claim me.” Was it a sign, or a weakness for him? If he was not to be the winner, would she give up her rank and destiny to escape with an adventurous warrior? Was that too much to ask of a High Queen? Too great a sacrifice to expect? What if she only desired him as a man, but did not love him? Or love him enough to choose him over her crown? She seemed totally committed to her destiny, to obeying Odin. If he abducted her, could he flee with her without getting caught and slain by his people? The days ahead would supply his answers.

  There was soft knocking at the door. Alysa and Eirik came to instant wakefulness, their gazes locked on each other. With a look of panic and disbelief on her face, she stared at him. She did not know what to do. Had she actually slept, made love, with Eirik? What if he was not Gavin Crisdean? At this moment, he was nothing like her husband. He was only a tempting stranger, a beguiling Norseman. Where and why had her wits deserted her? This was both foolish and perilous!

  Eirik knew he could not stain her honor by being found naked like this with her. He had not meant to fall asleep beside her, but it had seemed so natural and easy to do so. If discovered, Odin’s wrath would not even compare to that of any outraged Vikings! He rapidly reasoned on their problem, then pulled her close and whispered, “I will hide in the woodbox in the eldhus until I can slip out later. Come, help me.”

  He rose quickly, donned his garments, and rushed into the kitchen area. He climbed inside a large woodbox which fortunately was empty, as Alysa had dropped the logs into the privy pit to conceal the runaway slave’s visit. He told her to throw a fur covering over him.