Viking

by Fabio

  Like Viktor, Reyna felt consumed by uncertainty and tumultuous feelings. Her bridegroom looked altogether too beautiful and tempting kneeling beside her, with the light dancing in his thick blond hair. His jade-green silk tunic and tight leather Leggings showed off his broad shoulders and muscular thighs to perfection. Remembering the intense emotion in his eyes when he had taken the chalice and placed his mouth where hers had been, she felt desire wash over her in devastating waves. Viktor's gesture had proved more provocative, more intimate than the most fervent kiss. With their hands clasped, she could feel the heat and strength of his fingers flowing into hers, as if there would be no escaping the bond between them.

  It badly chafed her pride to be forced into wedlock with him. But more than that, Reyna was truly frightened, fearing that the strange tenderness, the vulnerability that Viktor the Valiant inspired in her would make her his for the taking. Viktor's concessions today in letting her have a dagger and helping her fetch Pelagius had touched a heart Reyna had always assumed was impervious to emotion. Again she reflected on how his very gentleness could defeat her. Indeed, seeing the vague bruise along his handsome jaw, where her fists had savagely pounded him yesterday, she was awed by the power of that gentleness. Any other warrior would have killed her for such an insult; instead, Viktor had only smacked her bottom once, then had stopped immediately when she had broken down and sobbed. Afterward, they had kissed and caressed with such sweet, desperate passion— verily, they had all but mated! New, potent need swept her as she remembered Viktor's hard member pushing into her tight womanhood, hurting her ... And yet she had welcomed the invasion. When Viktor had abruptly withdrawn from her flesh, vowing he would not take her until they were wed, she had burned with frustration and unassuaged longing.

  Now he was making her his bride; later, when they lay together, he would not stop until he had buried that delicious hot shaft against her virgin womb. Emotionally, she feared the intimacy just as much as physically her body craved it. And she sensed that following the consummation, she would never be quite the same.

  At last Pelagius ceased his mumblings. Although no further action was required to seal the troth, Viktor stayed Reyna with a hand on her shoulder when she tried to rise. As she glanced at him in bemusement, he removed from his wrist the copper bracelet he had previously stolen from her, leaned over, and replaced the circlet on her ankle. She stared at him, feeling even more perturbed. Then he rose and pulled her to her feet. From his garment he removed an amber ring, took her left hand, and slipped the ring on her third finger.

  As she lifted her questioning visage toward his, he murmured, "I take you as my wife, Reyna, and swear to you my heart, my loyalty, and my protection."

  He kissed her lips, quickly enough so as not to mar the solemnity of the occasion, fervently enough to stamp her with the heat of his possession.

  Reyna felt slightly dazed by Viktor's unexpectedly tender, touching ritual. There was a moment of reverent silence as the others waited for her to respond. At last she whispered, "I take you as husband, Viktor the Valiant."

  Amid cheers from the assemblage, they turned. Viktor flashed Reyna a smile and felt heartened when she half smiled back at him. One by one, his kinsmen came forward to offer their blessings—Rollo, Orm, and Canute pounded Viktor across the shoulders, and Ottar and Svein wished the couple lifelong happiness.

  Viktor noted that Ragar and Harald hung back, both frowning grimly along the sidelines. At the first lull, he moved off to speak with Reyna's brother. "Do not worry about your sister," he assured Ragar. "I will take good care of her."

  When Ragar did not immediately reply, Harald spoke in his stead. "See that you stand by your word, Viktor the Valiant, or you will have both of us to reckon with,"

  "Fair enough," acknowledged Viktor. He smiled at both men. "And tomorrow III assign an escort to take you back to your village."

  Ragar shook his head. "Nay, Viktor the Valiant. I prefer to stay for a time, to ensure that my sister is well treated."

  "As you wish," Viktor readily conceded. He gestured toward the long table, on which a lavish meal had been laid out. "For now, please, both of you must remain as our guests at the feast."

  Viktor and Reyna played host and hostess from opposite ends of the table, which was laden with loaves of bread, baskets of berries and nuts, bowls of stew, and planers of mutton and pork. As the guests ate and drank heartily, Nevin refilled chalices and oxhorns with mead. In one corner Quigley recited a series a verses to honor the occasion, while another Irish thrall played a haunting ballad on a lyre. A couple of the serving women danced, and one of the village youths amused the gathering by juggling spoons.

  Soon bellies were soothed by food, tongues loosened by liquor. One by one, Viktor's kinsmen rose to propose toasts to their jail's nuptials. Unfortunately, all of the salutes insulted Reyna in one manner or another.

  'To King Viktor, who has now tamed the Ravisher," announced a jocund Canute, and several warriors cheered and joined the toast.

  "And who will reduce the spitting cat to a purring kitten ere the night is out," added Orm, to a new round of gulps and hurrahs.

  "May he get a son started on her before Haymaking month," proposed Rollo, his words seconded by an earsplitting roar and more swilling of mead.

  "Yea, may her belly soon be thick, her stepfather disgraced," put in a sardonic Eurich.

  " 'Tis the only way to keep our new queen at heel," finished a sneering Canute.

  Glancing worriedly at his bride, Viktor noted her flaming face and blazing eyes, while nearby, her brother and his kinsman sat in outraged silence. He surged to his feet.

  'That is enough," he said firmly to his kinsmen. "Reyna is my bride and I will not hear her insulted in this manner!"

  "But, jarl, we are but savoring our victory," protested Orm.

  "Not at the expense of my wife's feelings!" Viktor snapped. "You will cease."

  At their jarl's dictate, the men grumbled and only partly obliged. They leered at Viktor's bride and mumbled slurs behind their hands. Viktor overheard enough to realize that his men were still mocking Reyna, as well as making wagers on how soon she would be "breeding. " From the violently mutinous expression on her face, he knew she could hear the insults, too, and he could have cheerfully throttled a few of his kinsmen. But he could not think of a way to intervene again without making matters worse. If he chastised his men too much, they might revolt and try to harm Reyna, Ragar, or Harald. The freely flowing liquor only made the warriors all the more dangerous and belligerent.

  To Viktor's dismay, his unwed warriors, notably Rollo and Canute, soon began to pinch and fondle the serving wenches. The married warriors, noting the mortified expressions of their mates, quickly gathered them and left, which made Viktor's bachelor kinsmen grow bolder. Watching Canute heave a buxom female into his arms and carry her to a bench, Viktor surged to his feet.

  "Not in front of my wife," he ground out furiously.

  With the wench straddling him and his hands reaching for the hem of her skirts, Canute howled with scornful laughter. "She is not your wife yet, jarl. Mayhap the Ravisher could use a demonstration of what pleasures a man."

  "Yea," added on insolent Orm, tossing a sneer at Reyna. "Why not take the little Valkyrie now for our amusement? The bench is plenty wide enough for both you and Canute to fondle your women!"

  Viktor was ready to charge over and punch out both men when Sibeal rushed up to him, tugging on his tunic and whispering frantically, "Master, 'tis time for milady to take her leave to prepare herself for you."

  Viktor heaved a grateful sigh and nodded to the woman.

  He offered Reyna a conciliatory glance, but she only glared in return.

  To Sibeal, he said, "Yes, please get my bride away from these obnoxious boors before I string up the lot of them/'

  Sibeal drew Reyna from the room a mere second before Canute hiked up the skirts of the serving wench and copulated with her brazenly while the others hooted cheers.

/>   .In Viktor's chamber, Reyna was pacing in a fury. She could still hear the bawdy yells, and the serving wench's wanton cries, corning from the dining hall.

  "They are pigs, all of them! Pigs!" she exclaimed.

  "Yea, my lady," said Sibeal.

  "I overheard them making wagers on how soon I would be breeding—the filthy whoresons!"

  "I understand your outrage, milady," Sibeal soothed. "But you must forget their taunts and prepare yourself for your husband."

  "To Hel with him as well!"

  "Milady, he is not like the others—"

  Reyna turned on the woman. "He is! Forcing me into this union!

  "And saving the lives of your brother and Harald," Sibeal reminded her in an admonishing tone.

  Reyna released an exasperated breath and continued pacing.

  "Milady, Viktor's kinsmen will soon bring him in to you—"

  Over my slain body, they will!"

  "My lady, you know that, according to the tradition, your husband must be brought to you by witnesses—"

  "I will cast the lot of them from the room!' she declared, gesturing furiously. "I will dispatch all of them to Hel."

  "And then Viktor the Valiant's kinsmen will go directly to slay Ragar and Harald," Sibeal pointed out with forbearance. "Is that what you want, milady?

  Reyna made a sound of exquisite frustration.

  Sibeal moved cautiously toward her. "Here, milady, let me unbind your hair."

  Reyna whirled. "Nay."

  Sibeal smiled. "Your husband will not want your hair bound."

  Reyna's chin came up. "How know you that?"

  "I know." Deep sadness shone in Sibeal's eyes. "I was wed once, milady. Do you not remember?"

  At once the girl became contrite. "Yea—and I am sorry to remind you of your loss."

  " It was not intended," Sibeal said generously, releasing the bindings on Reyna's thick tresses, sending wildflowers tumbling to the floor as her locks spilled free. "Now you must take off your leggings and gown and get into bed, to await your husband."

  Reyna's eyes went wide. "Naked?"

  "Yea."

  "Nay!" she gasped.

  "But, milady—"

  "I will wear a shift," the girl insisted. "Fetch it now. "

  "Nay, milady," Sibeal replied. "Verily, I have never questioned your wearing a garment to bed, for I knew you never felt safe with Wolfgard's kinsmen harassing you. But you are a married lady now—'tis not done that way."

  "Tell me no more of what married people do!" Reyna raved, anger and fear making her heedless of Sibeal's feelings.

  "Milady, you will know yourself ere morning," Sibeal informed her gently. "Your husband will see to the task."

  Reyna's reply was unintelligible.

  Sibeal quelled a smile as she watched the girl pull off her leggings, men go to the bed, flouncing down while still defiantly wearing her wedding dress.

  "Think you that will last long?" Sibeal scolded.

  Reyna pulled the covers up to her chin. "Leave me now, pray."

  Sibeal stared at her with compassion, started to say something, then sighed. "Good night, my lady,"

  After Sibeal left, Reyna sat tensely on the bed and struggled with her own roiling emotions. She could still hear the sounds of revelry coming from the dining hall, and she knew that before long, Viktor's kinsmen would bring him to her. Indeed, the bed smelled of his own special male scent, reminding her that he would soon come to seek his due. And as Sibeal had pointed out, she had no choice but to submit, or else see Ragar and Harald slain.

  Still, she would not ease the way for Viktor, not after his kinsmen had so insulted her! Not even as much as she secretly, traitorously, wanted him, illogically yearning for him to comfort the hurt for which he was at least partly responsible ...

  All too soon she heard the loud sounds of the men approaching, including her husband's voice as the group passed through the next chamber,

  "Is this parade really necessary?" Viktor muttered in exasperation as Canute and Rollo escorted him toward his chamber. Both men were staggering, quite drunk, and kept banging Viktor into walls—which did not improve his own temper in the least.

  "Yea, jarl," Orm slurred. "You must be brought to your bride by witnesses/

  "What next?" Viktor demanded, fully aware of how his recalcitrant bride would receive this latest assault on her dignity.

  A second later, the three crashed into Viktor's chamber. Rollo straightened first, and glowered at the girl on the bed, spotting a bit of white silk protruding from above the fur pelt.

  "Your bride is still clothed, jarl!" he cried. "She insults you on your wedding night!"

  Viktor hastily glanced at the horrified Reyna. "It is none of your affair. Now, if you will both please leave—"

  "Let us strip her, jarl, and beat her as well," offered an equally belligerent Canute. " Tis time the little hellion learns respect for her jarl and husband!"

  Had Viktor not been assured of a drunken brawl erupting in his wedding chamber, he would have slammed his fist into Canute's arrogant jaw. Instead, he ordered murderously, "Get out of here, both of you, and do not dare come back or insult my bride again."

  While Canute glared back at his jarl, Rollo seemed to find humor in the situation. "Verily, we do not need to strip her," he informed Canute, then nudged Viktor with his elbow. "Ye need only to raise the bride's skirts, eh, jar]?" he taunted, and rocked with laughter.

  Viktor felt intense sympathy for his humiliated bride, and even greater fury toward his two drunken kinsmen. He forced his words through gritted teeth. "You have done your duty— you have brought me to my bride. Now get out of here, you besotted fools, or I will kill you both—now!"

  At this, Canute and Rollo exchanged cocky grins, and the two left amid much staggering and new howls of mirth.

  Viktor turned contritely to his wife. Studying Reyna's tempestuous expression, he felt even more helpless rage toward his kinsmen. His bride had not deserved such mistreatment, and the freeswilling oafs had certainly not eased the way for him tonight with their relentless taunts.

  He spoke gently. "Reyna, I am sorry about my men's obnoxious behavior. I'm sure they will settle down in time—and I do plan to call all of them aside once they are sober and insist they treat you with greater respect."

  She flounced up from the bed to face him with eyes blazing, "You think their respect is something I crave?" she spit out. X>r yours, Viktor the Valiant?"

  Despite her defiance, the sight of her barefoot, in the virginal white gown, stoked Viktor's passions. He moved closer and offered a smile. "Reyna, I know you have endured inexcusable insults tonight I know this marriage is not of your choosing. But can't we make the best of things? Can't you see that there's much more at stake than simply you or me?" He reached out to stroke her flushed cheek and spoke soul-fully. "Tonight, we unite our bodies and hearts. Tomorrow, our union will bring all our peoples together/'

  She shoved his fingers away. "You only want to use me to bring your craved peace!"

  He continued to speak with patience and vehemence. "Reyna, have you ever considered that every time a warrior dies, a sister or wife must cry, just as you cried yesterday when you thought you would lose Ragar?"

  She turned away, blinking rapidly. "Now you shame me with that?"

  He caught her chin with his ringers, forcing her to meet his searching gaze. 'There is no shame in loving another, or in standing up to save him."

  She blinked away tears. "Do not hope I will ever feel that love for you, Viktor the Valiant," she. said, her voice trembling. "You have forced me to become your bride, but you will never win my loyalty, my trust, or my heart. I tell you, I will not be your vessel to stop this war."

  He dropped his hand, and his voice was very low and ominous. "Just what are you saying, Reyna?"

  Although her eyes were suspiciously bright, she faced him with pride. "I have fulfilled my end of our bargain. I have wed you. But I will not lie with you tonight unless you force
me."

  Fury welled in Viktor at her callous betrayal of their pact. His words were just as ruthless. "Reyna, you have not fulfilled your end of our bargain, and you damn well know it!"

  She held her ground, although her chin quivered.

  "Do you realize that if my warriors knew of your refusal to grant me my husbandly rights, they would kill you—and likely Ragar and Harald as well?"

  She hesitated for a moment, then whispered, "You would bring me to that just to bed me?"

  "No," he stated with contempt. "I will not reduce myself to your level."

  "And I will not submit," she hissed back.

  A murderous passion burned in Viktor's eyes. He shook a fist at the infuriating Valkyrie. "A true marriage is not about submission. In a true marriage, a husband and wife give themselves to each other in love. We will both of us be dead from this feud before I rape you, Reyna."

  He stormed from the room.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Heyna sobbed in Viktor's bed. She held the fur cover to her face and tried to smother the wrenching sounds. She felt hellishly guilty for sending him away from their wedding chamber. Yea, his men had insulted her terribly, battering her pride, but that had not been Viktor's fault. Indeed, the blame had been largely hers, for goading his warriors so remorselessly in the first place.

  In truth, her husband had lived up to his end of their agreement, saving the lives of Ragar and Harald, and she had tried to weasel out of her own responsibilities in a most cowardly fashion. Yet she felt deeply shaken by her desire for Viktor—a near-desperate need to possess her enemy, to be possessed by him. Her new husband had an uncanny ability to connect with her emotionally, to perceive her feelings, to make her feel vulnerable, and Reyna recognized this awesome power as an even more compelling reason to deny him. She feared that the consummation between them would strip her, not just physically but also spiritually, that she would become his pawn, a vessel of his will. Still, no matter what her motives, her refusal had been wrong, just as Sibeal had scolded; by all rights she should be lying with her husband now ...