Claimed By A Viking

by T S Florence

  “I know that,” Rose laughed again.

  Despite Ragnar sending Torsten to protect-spy on Rose and her business, she couldn’t help but let her excitement bubble over, at the prospect of buying her first round of wool from the local sheep farmers.

  “I could teach you to colour the wool and make clothing. I would pay you, ” Rose said to Brenna, as they approached the first farm.

  “I don’t want your money. Torsten will provide everything once we are married,” Brenna smiled as she looked ahead at the farm.

  “You would be happy to simply be married to Torsten, with no control over any money or freedom?” Rose asked.

  “Marrying Torsten is my freedom. I do not want to live my life any other way,” Brenna said, quietly. “We are just waiting for the spring, when his family will arrive on the boat, so they can witness our marriage,” Brenna said.

  Well, Torsten wasn’t like Ragnar, Rose thought to herself. Torsten wasn’t Brenna’s slaver, Torsten didn’t want all of the power in the relationship. They were different. Ragnar and Rose. It sounded right in her head. They would never be accepted.

  Ragnar

  Ragnar beat down on his training partner’s shield, causing him to step back.

  “What’s gotten into you today?” Ivar said, as he backed off from Ragnar.

  “What?” Ragnar growled.

  “Did you come here to spar with me just because you knew you could use more anger?” Ivar snapped.

  “All the other men are weak as chicken piss,” Ragnar said.

  “So you come and try to kill your king in some friendly training?” Ivar said.

  “You would know if I was trying to kill you,” Ragnar said, turning away.

  “What’s the matter with you man, is that girl sending you Crazy?

  “That girl has a name,” Ragnar growled.

  “Which one, Hilda or Rose?” Ivar said, provoking him.

  “You know damn well,” Ragnar said.

  “Why don’t you just marry her,” Ivar said.

  “I tried. She is refusing,” Ragnar said.

  “What? Why?” Ivar asked.

  “She sees me as her owner. She does not want me as her husband,” Ragnar said.

  “You’re wrong, you just don’t know how to act like a normal person with her,” Ivar said.

  “What does that mean?” Ragnar said, his temper cooled as he gained interest in some possible advice.

  “The men love you. Isla loves you. They love you because you’re a good man. You make people happy. Do that with Rose,” Ivar said.

  “It is more complicated than that,” Ragnar said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Ivar said.

  “You had to kidnap your damned wife before you told her you loved her,” Ragnar said.

  “That was a little different, and you know it,” Ivar said, growing serious.

  “Your wife tried ran all the way into Scotland to try and escape you,” Ragnar continued.

  “And she came back,” Ivar said.

  “She didn’t come back. You made us capture her, and we lost Magnus in the fight,” Ragnar said, low and slow. “So don’t give me your sage advice on how to woo a woman,” He said.

  “Go home and cool off, viking,” Ivar said, as he sheathed his sword and took a deathly serious tone.

  “Can’t find any good training partners today anyway,” Ragnar said, as he stormed through the gates and took the reigns of his war horse.

  Ragnar was riding at a break neck speed on the way home, but slowed his horse as he approached the smithy’s shelter.

  “Jack,” Ragnar boomed, as he tied his horse to the front post.

  “Jack,” Ragnar shouted again.

  The Englishman’s pale face and straw-like blond hair emerged from the smoky shelter.

  “What is with the shouting? Jack asked.

  “What are you doing?” Ragnar asked.

  “Hitting metal,” Jack replied.

  “Of course. It’s your job,” Ragnar said.

  “That’s right,” Jack said.

  “Very well,” Ragnar said.

  “Ragnar? What is it? You don’t normally do something or go somewhere unless there is a reason,” Jack said.

  “I can’t come and see a friend on a fine day?” Ragnar became defensive, not wanting to admit that he was speaking to the one person who was closest to Rose.

  “Of course you can, but that doesn’t mean you normally do,” Jack said.

  “Well today I am,” Ragnar said.

  “And where is my sister?” Jack asked.

  “She is out with Brenna, buying wool,” Ragnar said.

  Jack’s expression turned to one of surprise at this information. “Buying wool?” He asked.

  “She wishes to become a wool merchant,” Ragnar said.

  “Like father,” Jack said, almost to himself. “She always did have a mind for commerce,” He said.

  “I know that,” Ragnar said.

  “She was always more like father. And me, well me not so much. I was more interested in swords,” Jack said.

  “What about your mother?” Ragnar asked.

  Jack’s face changed again. “Well I don’t think either of us turned out so much like her,” Jack said. “But she hasn’t had it easy,” he finished.

  “Why hasn’t your mother come to see Rose?” Ragnar asked, intrigued.

  “Rose didn’t tell you?” Jack said, before he could stop himself.

  “Tell me what?” Ragnar’s voice became a growl.

  “I’ll say no more,” Jack said, his voice firm.

  “Say no more of what?” Ragnar barked.

  “It is none of my business what my sister and you discuss,” Jack said.

  “Jack,” Ragnar took a threatening step forwards.

  Jack laughed. “It is clear you are in love with Rose. I doubt you would hurt her brother. Besides, we’re old friends,” Jack said, slapping Ragnar’s boulder-like shoulder.

  “Little bastard,” Ragnar said, even though Jack was not little.

  “Speak to my sister, if you want to find out our family history so badly,” Jack shouted. He had already walked back into his sweltering shop.

  What did everyone know that he did not, what was going on in Rose’s family that Ragnar did not know about. Was her mother dead as well? Was everyone refusing to tell her, or him, or both of them?

  Ragnar walked his horse into his stables, handing the reigns to the boy. The cart was unavoidable. It was full, almost overflowing, with wool.

  Ragnar walked into the palace courtyard, where he saw Brenna and Rose talking excitedly.

  “Hello Ragnar,” Rose said, turning to him with a sly smirk on her face. “I should be able to pay a full year’s payment for Lucy after I’ve sold this load of wool at the markets tomorrow,” he said.

  “Lucy?” Ragnar asked.

  “The gorgeous mare that you are so kindly allowing me to use,” Rose said.

  “Don’t name your horses,” Ragnar said, before he turned on his heel.

  He could hear footsteps sounding behind him. “Why should I not name her? What does it matter to you? I know everything to you is about ownership and power, but if I care for something, I like to treat it with love,” Rose said.

  “It will hurt more when she dies,” Ragnar said, simply.

  Rose’s face changed to an expression he could not decipher. After a pause, she spoke quietly, “I will love her until then.”

  “What is going on with your mother?” Ragnar asked.

  “I don’t know if I want to tell you,” Rose clipped.

  “Tell me,” Ragnar grumbled.

  “Are you ordering me, as an owner?” Rose replied.

  “Yes,” Ragnar said, immediately angry that he resorted to using such cheap tactics.

  “She doesn’t love me any longer,” Rose said simply.

  Ragnar was at a loss for words. He simply stood, watching, as Rose turned and walked back to her friend, much more quietly than she had approached hi
m, just moments before.

  10

  Rose

  Depending on whether or not the other merchants had wised up since the last several markets, Rose was betting that she’d make more on her sale that morning, than she would have made at all of her previous sales combined. It had been almost three months since her first sale, and since then, things had grown exponentially.

  She was making far more than she could have ever expected, and she only wondered at the wealth that her father must have made over all the years that he had worked as a merchant. Of course, it showed, in the sheer amount of sheep and land that he had owned, up until his death.

  After today, Rose would be buying her own land. She had spent the morning daydreaming of her own sheep. Of being able to cut out the process of having to negotiate with farmers for their sheep’s wool. Her profits would be even greater in her first season of selling her own wool and clothing made from that wool.

  Her first customer was the same as usual. A god-fearing man named Egbert. Even more god fearing than the average Englishman. He was always at the markets just before dawn, ensuring that he could get the pick of the bunch of all the things he intended to buy. He was not an overly clever man, simply cleverer than most - which wasn’t hard, Rose thought.

  “You’ve been buying this wool yourself,” Egbert said, as if he had discovered some great secret.

  “I have,” Rose smiled.

  “And you’re a woman,” Egbert continued.

  “And you’re a man,” Rose clipped.

  “Women ain’t supposed to be doin’ business like this. It’s ungodly,” Egbert said.

  “Do you want the wool or not,” Rose said to Egbert.

  “Why should I pay such prices for wool, to a woman?” Egbert shot back.

  “Then go find someone who can provide you this quality of wool, in this quantity, for this price,” Rose said.

  “Where’s your father? Or are you married? Where’s your husband then?” Egbert’s demeanour slowly transitioned to a sly creepiness.

  “Not here. He should be here once he’s finished his sword training,” Rose said, becoming self-conscious.

  “Father or husband?” The man asked.

  “Husband,” Rose said. And when she said the word, Ragnar was who came to her mind. They were not married, but he was the only man who she could possibly fathom being married to. Yet, she did not expect him to come to the markets. He had never come to the markets. He had no interest. Trading things for money was not interesting to Ragnar, as he simply took what he wanted. Money was not necessary for men like him.

  “Maybe I will wait for him to come by and see his sweet little wife,” Egbert said.

  “Do what you wish, but do not crowd the front of my stall. I don’t want you interrupting my business,” Rose said.

  “I think people will be more concerned whether you’re a godly woman or not. Seeing as you are new here,” Egbert replied.

  “Frankly, I am not concerned with your god-fearing nonsense. Either buy my wool or I will send for my husband’s men to come and deal with you,” Rose said, not out of anger, but of fear.

  “And who is this important husband that you are hiding behind,” Egbert smirked.

  “Maybe you’ve heard of him. Ragnar Ragnarsson. Ragnar the Destroyer. Earl Ragnar of Fyrkat,” Rose said each word slowly. Watching the recognition, and then, followed by that recognition, fear, take hold on his face. “I see you have heard of him,” Rose clipped.

  “So it was ten bags of wool I was after today,” Egbert said quietly, his demeanour changed.

  Part of Rose did not want to deal with Egbert any longer. Part of her was fearful of him. But her father’s words sounded in her mind. Emotion is for family, not for business. Emotion and business have not place together.

  “Add another ten percent onto our normal price,” Rose said.

  “What?” Egbert said.

  “For your treatment of me, as Ragnar’s wife,” Rose said mildly.

  “Not a fair price at all,” Egbert skulked, as he fished through his fat purse of coins, most likely annoyed that his own attempt to drive down Rose’s prices resulted in him paying even more than he would have otherwise paid.

  Rose’s day went much more smoothly than her first sale. She sold her entire stock before the sun was past the middle of the sky, and was home, with her earnings, shortly after lunch.

  “I’m buying a farm,” Rose said to Ragnar, as they passed each other in the hall.

  She heard Ragnar’s footsteps stop behind her.

  “Why?” He asked.

  “To improve my profits,” Rose said, without looking.

  “Farms are not safe to live on. They are targets for raiders,” Ragnar said over his shoulder.

  “I will hire men to guard the farm. I will be earning enough,” She said.

  “You will not live on that farm,” Ragnar said to her, his voice low.

  “I will. Because I have the money to purchase back my life,” Rose said, eyeing him.

  “Since when?” Ragnar asked.

  “Since this morning,” Rose said. She had already separated a bag full of coins. An amount that would be equal to a slave’s life.

  “Here,” She said, handing him the bag.

  “It’s not enough,” Ragnar growled.

  “You wouldn’t know what’s enough,” Rose clipped.

  “There will never be an amount that’s enough,” Ragnar said, his voice so coarse that it sent a shiver down her spine.

  “You are the one that should be begging for forgiveness. You abandoned me for four years, Ragnar. Stop with your anger. Stop with your skulking. You did this,” Rose snapped at him.

  “Why should I ask for forgiveness? I have never apologised to any man I have faced in battle. I have never given back anything I have rightly won in battle,” Ragnar growled.

  “You did not defeat me in battle, and you did not win me in battle either,” Rose said, her voice shaking with anger. “You purchased me on a beach on a cold morning, when I was still a child. I was cold and fearful and did not understand a word you said. And now I am home and I am buying back my freedom,” Rose gripped the sides of her skirt, bunching her hands into fists, so that Ragnar could not see her hands shake.

  “That’s not fair,” Ragnar said.

  “This? This is entirely fair. Slavery is not fair. Marriage is not fair. Women should not need to rely on men simply to be free in this world,” Rose said.

  “And now I am free,” Rose said.

  She turned and walked to her room.

  Ragnar

  “She already had a place lined up,” Torsten said, his voice low and formal.

  “She’s already packing her damn things,” Ragnar said. “How did it change so quickly. Things were going well, and now she’s turned half-mad,” He sighed, knowing that his anger was only making things worse. He hadn’t been his normal joyful self for nearly a year.

  “She’s asked Brenna to move out there,” Torsten said, cautiously.

  “Of course. And you will go with her,” Ragnar said.

  “I wouldn’t let her live out there alone,” Torsten said.

  “You will make sure Rose is safe, as well,” Ragnar said.

  “Of course, I will continue in your service, if you would allow it,” Torsten said.

  “I want you to report any news of Rose to me, as well,” Ragnar said.

  “Yes Ragnar,” Torsten said.

  He knew that he needed to calm his anger, or Rose would not speak to him at all. But he needed to speak to her.

  “You have a place for purchase already?” Ragnar asked Rose.

  “How do you know?” Rose asked, pausing before continuing, “Torsten,” she said.

  “He is still my man,” Ragnar said.

  “I know,” Rose accepted.

  “When will you make the transaction?” Ragnar asked.

  “I am leaving now,” Rose said.

  “I will come,” Ragnar said.

  “I d
on’t need you to come,” Rose said. But a hint of desperation in her voice made Ragnar curious, and so he decided he would go.