by Fabio
"Listen to me, men," Viktor began earnestly. "You will not be harmed if you simply answer a few questions."
The guards observed him warily.
"Where are the other sentries in the village?" Viktor asked.
Neither answered.
Rollo emitted a low growl of rage and tightened the pressure of his dagger. "Answer our jarl, or I will carve out your entrails."
Before Viktor could raise a hand in protest, the guard stammered, "Th-there are n-no other sentries!"
"Why is this? " demanded Orm.
The man shrugged. "Our jarl has grown careless— confident there would be no attack from Viktor the Valiant."
"You are certain of this? " Viktor asked.
"Yea, we are the only guards."
Viktor turned to the other man. "Where does the Ravisher sleep in Wolfgard's longhouse?"
This man resisted, too, until Orm brandished his dagger in the man's face and growled, "Spill it out, man, or I will make a eunuch out of you!"
Already sounding much like a eunuch, the man shrilled, "She sleeps in the northernmost part of the house, not far from the outdoor cattle byres."
"Good," said Viktor. To Rollo and Orm, he added, "Tie and gag them. "
"But are you not forgetting something?" said Orm.
"Yes?"
Rollo leaned toward his jarl, jerked his head at the captives, and asked in a low, tense whisper, "What if they are lying?"
Staring at the two frightened enemies, Viktor ground his jaw. It was a logical question, and one that must be addressed. "Are either of you lying?"
Two heads shook vigorously.
"I believe them," Viktor told his warriors.
"Jarl!" protested Rollo, "We must be certain, or we could all risk death. Verily, these fools could be leading us straight into a trap. Pray let us torture them a little, to ensure they are not playing us falsely."
Viktor gazed from his men's eager faces to the sentries, who blinked in abject terror. "If either of you is lying, I give my men leave to come back and slaughter you—in whatever manner they choose. Be advised, as well, that they still haven't completed the roster of entertainment for the Shieling feast."
The two captives exchanged frantic glances.
"Well? Do either of you care to amend your stories?" Viktor demanded.
Again two heads were shaken.
“They are telling the truth," Viktor informed the others.
After the guards were bound and gagged, their bodies hidden behind a nearby haystack, the small raiding party crept on to Wolfgard's longhouse. They entered with surprising ease, for there was no sentry posted, no bar on the door. Leaving Svein posted at the portal, the other tour tiptoed into a smoky foyer lit by a steatite lamp. With Viktor leading the way, they proceeded through several more deserted chambers—a looming room, a kitchen, a storage closet—and then past an alcove in which the woman thrall whom Viktor recognized as Sibeal lay asleep on a pallet They stole toward the northernmost comer of the house, where, as the sentries had informed them, they found Reyna's room.
Just outside the chamber, Viktor assigned Ottar to guard, then he, Orm, and Rollo crept inside. Although the room lay in deep shadow, a small lamp had been left lit near the cot, and Viktor could clearly see Reyna on the bed. Asleep, she appeared as innocent as an angel, her lovely countenance peaceful, her golden hair spread out a polar bear pelt tucked up to her chin. She looked as beautiful and untouched as Sleeping Beauty, and he felt tempted to awaken her with a kiss.
But, given her prior, ruthless behavior, he was not about to act in such a naive, even stupid, fashion. Still, she was asleep, and there was no need to frighten her out of her wits. Gesturing to his men to hold their places, he tiptoed across the room, knelt beside her, and gently placed his hand over her mouth.
"Reyna. You must awaken and come with us," he said quietly but firmly.
He might as well have jus! roused a badger from its burrow. Reyna's brown eyes flashed open, brilliant with rage, and then her teeth sank viciously into Viktor's hand. He instinctively lurched to his feet, waving his hand helplessly and struggling against an instinct to shout out in agony and thus awaken the entire household.
In the meantime, the Valkyrie had popped to her feet and aimed a lethal kick straight at his groin! He tried to feint, but she still managed to deliver a painful blow to his mid-thigh that left him doubling over.
Then the demon sprinted straight for the door, past the two mighty warriors, Orm and Rollo, who at the moment appeared utterly mystified, while Ottar stepped inside and froze at the sight of the advancing Fury.
"Stop her!" Viktor forced out.
Orm and Rollo sprang into motion, grabbing the female, who was as wild as an unbroken horse—kicking, biting, gouging both warriors until they released her with bellows of pain—
Shoving past Ottar, she made a nosedive for the door—and for the broadsword that rested near it!
Viktor leaped into action, vaulting across the chamber. In the nick of time, he managed to grab Reyna around the waist. His entire body exploded with torment as she kicked and screamed and pelted him with her fists.
"Valkyrie from Heir he roared.
Staggering beneath her blows as he recrossed the room, Viktor flung her down on the bed and hurled his body on top of hers. Even as her pained gasp informed him that the wind had been knocked from her lungs, he felt remorseless. Rage at her vicious attack gave him a strength he had never known before. His hard frame pinned hers to the bed and his strong thigh muscles held her legs immobile. He grabbed both her arms and restrained her wrists high overhead with one of his determined hands. As she at last caught a sharp breath, he forced his other hand over her mouth so she could not scream out. But this time he was wise enough to grip and lock her entire jaw so she would not savage him once more with her lethal teeth.
At last she was restrained beneath him, and ah, it was a splendid sight. Her body trembled with frustrated anger; her eyes shot venom at him.
And then a curious thing happened. Viktor realized that during their struggles Reyna's nightdress had become hiked up almost to her waist. Her generous breasts heaved against his chest; her soft, supple thighs were bared. And he was aroused—more aroused than he had ever felt in his entire life, as if a log were suddenly lodged in his leggings. Had there not been others present, he would have felt sore pressed not to take her, right here and now. At that moment, Viktor was appalled and fascinated to find himself feeling every emotion a true Viking warrior felt—the rage and the passion, the obsession to plunder and possess. He was left struggling between the enlightened, sensitive man he had left behind in the twentieth century and the Viking fighter who had arrived here in die Dark Ages to confront this warrior woman from Hel.
Ultimately, the caring man won, for Viktor knew he must not take Reyna in the heat of anger, however badly she had provoked him. Yet his she would become—this glorious little spitfire—and he savored the thought of that eventual, sweet triumph. Considering the level of Ms outrage, he couldn't resist taunting her a bit. He arched against her slightly so she could feel his victory, and he smiled at her look of wide-eyed horror.
He winked down at her enraged countenance, "You're not on the pill, are you, love?" he teased.
SIXTEEN
In the next instant, Viktor's body was hurled off Reyna's. Her strength astounded him, and he grunted in pain as his huge body crashed to the floor.
Struggling to his rise, he paused, jerking his head upward at the sound of her outraged voice.
"What is this pill you speak of, Viking? Do you seek to charm me with your poisons? Whatever this potion is, may you gag on it and diet
Dio, where did this little demon get her spunk and fortitude? Viktor wondered dazedly from the floor. He had to be close to double her weight, and the little tigress had flipped his body off hers as if he were a flapjack!
Heaving a mighty groan, he was up—
But the Valkyrie was up, too, her gown torn to reveal one
creamy shoulder, her hair streaming in wraithlike disarray around her face. She looked like an enraged ogress as she faced him down with fists clenched and fire blazing in her eyes.
"Come give me your worst, Viking!" she screamed at him. "I will kill you with my bare hands, filthy whoreson!"
Viktor heard his men catch sharp breaths behind him, and he knew he needn't turn around to see that their expressions were appalled. For a moment he considered asking for their help to tackle her, then immediately vetoed the impulse. If he was to make this Valkyrie his bride, he would have to learn how to handle her himself. Perhaps in time the two of them could become equal partners living together in mutual love and respect. But for now, he had to communicate to her on a level she would understand—he had to show her who was master. So far, she was claiming that place for herself, and it was high time to stage an overthrow—
Without any warning, Viktor hurled himself at Reyna, grabbed her around her slim waist, swung her high, then flung her down to the bed again. He landed on top of her, pinning her down.
For a moment she stared at him, evidently too caught off guard to spout another blasphemy. Viktor felt shockingly unrepentant, given the pounding he had just endured.
"You were saying, Valkyrie?" he asked mildly.
She would have screamed out her rage once more, except that his hand again descended on her mouth. She bucked wildly, trying to throw his body off her, but this time Viktor was prepared and not about to become an easy victim. Feeling as comfortable as a cowboy riding a mechanical bull, he hurled out orders to his kinsmen.
"Rollo! Orm! Quit gaping like a couple of simpletons and come help me tie up this dragon lady!"
The men leaped into action, and with the strenuous efforts of all three, the Valkyrie was subdued. First, with Viktor still holding her down, she was gagged, and her flailing feet were bound. Only then were they ready to flip her writhing body over and secure her hands behind her. Viktor couldn't repress a grin as he watched Reyna's shapely buttocks thrash against her nightdress as she struggled helplessly against her bonds. He would live for the day when that beautiful behind would squirm in his hands—but in pleasure as he filled her with his passion.
Now the men began wrapping Reyna in the blankets—until she looked about as appealing as a mummy, totally bound up, save for her red face and her eyes, which still burned brightly with malice.
Viktor scratched his jaw and stared at the defiant captive on the bed. " 'Tis done, then. Let us get her back to the village."
All three men froze at the sound of a female voice behind them. "A moment, my lord."
Simultaneously, Viktor, Rollo, and Orm whirled to see the slave woman Sibeal standing in the archway. Appearing deadly calm, the woman held a dagger at Ottar's throat. Viktor groaned at the sight of the lad, who stood there in horror with a knife poised to end his life in a split second.
Rollo and Orm looked to Viktor for guidance.
"What do you want, woman?" he asked.
Her green eyes gleamed with lethal determination. "For you to release my mistress," she said quietly.
"Jarl, do not listen to her!" pleaded Ottar bravely. “I have disgraced you by deserting my post and allowing a female to best me. I will give up my life now, but you must not release your captive."
Viktor felt caught between a rock and a hard place. He decided to try reasoning with the slave. "Woman, we have no desire to harm your mistress. Indeed, we are bearing her off to a better life—"
'Trussed up like a swine?" she demanded.
"The wench is obstinate, as you well know," Viktor replied- "But the truth is, I intend to make Reyna my bride and the queen of my people. Once she becomes biddable, I promise you I will treat her with the greatest respect."
Hesitation mingled with lingering suspicion flitted across the slave's face. "How can I believe you, Viktor the Valiant?"
"I will make this woman my queen and protect her with my life," Viktor assured her earnestly. "I vow it, before God."
Even as Orm and Rollo exchanged astounded glances, me thrall demanded, "You are Christian now?"
"Yea, I am Christian."
She studied his face for a moment, then cried, (Oh» I do not know what to believe! Swear it before Odin as well."
Viktor did not hesitate. "I swear before Odin that Reyna will become my wife."
"And may a curse take you if you tie!" the slave added fiercely.
"May a curse take me if I lie," Viktor repeated solemnly.
Still the woman held her knife at Ottar's throat.
"Will you release the lad now?" Viktor beseeched.
"On one condition. I accompany my lady, to care for her and to ensure that you honor your word, Viktor the Valiant."
"I agree."
"And I shall keep my dagger, to kill you in your sleep if you harm milady."
Viktor hesitated, and Orm said warningly, "Jarl, do not be fooled. This woman is an Irish sorceress, and can summon druids to slay you."
Viktor smiled. "Should I forsake my word, I will doubtless deserve such a fate." He nodded to Sibeal. "You may keep your dagger and come with us, woman."
The slave released Ottar, who staggered away from her heaving a huge breath of relief. Sibeal replaced her dagger in the sheath at her waist and nodded to the men. "Follow me, and bring my mistress. I will help you leave without detection."
"What of Wolfgard?" Viktor asked. "Why hasn't all of this clamor awakened him? "
Sibeal snorted. "He sleeps the sleep of the dead. Still, we must hasten. Wolfgard's thralls are up before first light to prepare his repast. We must not risk detection, as I will not raise a hand against my own."
"We understand, woman," said Viktor. "It is not our desire to harm anyone here, only to fetch my future bride"—he paused to slant a rueful glance at the still-writhing, mutinous Reyna—"so that, in time, this feud may end."
"That is a day we all shall welcome," said Sibeal feelingly. "And for the sake of your own soul, Viktor the Valiant, you had best not be playing us falsely."
"I am not. Let us be about our escape."
Viktor and Rollo hoisted Reyna over their shoulders like a rolled carpet, and, with Sibeal in the lead and Svein rejoining them, the small party exited the longhouse and crept back down the path to the fjord. A steady rain had begun to fall, impeding their progress and soaking the blankets binding Reyna. Canute, upon spotting them coming down the wharf, hopped out of the longship and rushed over to cut the lines on Wolfgard's drakan setting it adrift in the stormy waters. Viktor noted this with an admiring grin.
The party boarded and pushed off. Viktor stood near the mast, while the bound Reyna lay on the deck, with Sibeal sitting nearby to attend her.
Viktor clapped Canute on the shoulder and nodded toward the drifting ship, which was already well down the fjord, being battered by rain and gusts, carried by the swift current toward the open sea. "Good thinking, my friend."
Shaking moisture from his beard, the one-eyed giant grinned. "Yea, Wolfgard will have a bit of shipbuilding to do ere he can pursue us." He gestured toward the trussed-up woman. "So the Valkyrie is yours now?"
"Yes, and we brought along her lady-in-waiting to attend her," answered Viktor proudly.
Canute chuckled, then leaned closer to confide behind his hand, "Just ride the wench vigorously a few times, and she will gentle to your dominance."
Viktor glowered back. "I will not rape her, Canute. I will persuade her to become my bride willingly."
Canute threw up his hands. "Then we have come on a fool's errand. The Valkyrie will never consent to become your bride. "
On the deck, Reyna—cold, drenched, and miserable—had overheard the exchange and was thinking she totally agreed with the warrior named Canute, much as it rankled to be in accord with an enemy. Rage churned within her at the helplessness of her plight—to be captured, trussed up like a war trophy, and borne off into the night.
Reyna felt furious at herself as well for having allowed this to happen, aft
er she had known Viktor would come for her. To add insult to injury, her servant, Sibeal, had betrayed her, giving her allegiance to Viktor and believing his lies.
A blight on Sibeal and her visions, which were no excuse for her perfidy. Twisting about in her uncomfortable bonds, Reyna tried to direct a righteous glare at the woman, but found that Sibeal was staring ahead, serene even amid thunder and rain, her hands folded in her lap as the oarsmen propelled them down the turbulent fjord. As for the hated Viking himself, he stood proudly at the helm with his back to her, lightning emblazoning his tail figure. His drenched garments clung to his broad back, hard buttocks, and long legs, and his wet hair whipped about his head. Staring at his muscled thighs, she remembered the strength of them, like iron, pressing into her body—as well as another part of him that had felt harder still.
Even though Reyna could not see Viktor's despised face, his stance clearly bespoke arrogance and triumph. Cursed Viking! How foolish she had been to hope Viktor the Valiant was different. He was clearly a typical Viking—all he really cared about was conquest, subjugation, and winning.
Why her enemy still audaciously assumed he could wed her, Reyna did not know. She suspected his claim was bravado, and that he would in truth torture and kill her back at his own village. Verily, she preferred that plight to the thought of becoming Viktor the Valiant's bride. She would burn in Hel before she wed him willingly—
In a sense, she already was in Hel, forsaken by her own traitorous female instincts. When Viktor's massive body had crushed hers, pinning her to the bed, when she had felt the heat of his vast maleness crushing into her pelvis, the raw lust and unbridled passion streaming through her had shocked and horrified Reyna to her very core. Only her outrage at her body's betrayal had given her the strength to thrust Viktor's body off her. And then the Viking had taken her down again, proving that physically, he could master her—
Humiliation burned in Reyna at that defeat. Mayhap he could overwhelm her body, but her spirit he would never violate. She vowed this fiercely, even as a traitorous tear welled up to prove how vulnerable she truly felt.