The Outlaw Viking

by Sandra Hill

  Rain laughed, then pretended to ponder his question with great seriousness. He took advantage of her pause to untie the cord of her tunic and lift the garment up over her head. She wore only the wispy, flesh-colored undergarments, which were no covering at all.

  Displaying none of her usual self-consciousness over her body, she knelt before him, her face suddenly somber. “Selik, I love you. No, don’t get that bullheaded look on your face. I do, I love you, and—and no matter what happens, I want you to remember that.”

  Her words touched him in a cold, long-hidden place deep inside him, and the honey of her love flowed over him. His heart expanded almost to the point of bursting, and his whole being filled with a haze of wanting. Not the blood-churning, wall-banging passion he had felt on occasion when deeply aroused, but a gentle, excruciatingly intense heightening of the senses that threatened to splinter his soul.

  “Touch me,” he whispered. “Please…just touch me.”

  And she did.

  With slow, exquisitely slow care, Rain used her fingertips and palms, her lips and teeth, her warm breath and hot toes, her long legs and lace-cupped breasts to worship every inch of his body. Every time he tried to touch her in return or catch her lips in a kiss, she evaded his efforts. “No, let me.”

  All of Selik’s thoughts centered on his arousal as he felt his defenses slipping closer and closer to the edge. When she started to remove her sheer undergarments, he stopped her, finally gaining some semblance of control.

  “Nay, dearling, we will not be making love.”

  Rain lifted her chin in stubborn rebellion. “What do you call what we’re doing?”

  He smiled at her quick perception. “Playing.”

  “Don’t think you can detract me by flashing one of your devastating smiles.”

  He smiled even wider. “My smiles are devastating? I had not realized. I will have to practice more, I suppose, now that I know their lethal powers.”

  Rain jabbed him in the ribs. “Why did you say we wouldn’t be making love?”

  “I meant that there will be no consummation,” he said, suddenly serious.

  “Why?”

  Oh, Lord! Now what do I say? I cannot tell her the truth. She would no doubt say she did not care if I gave her my seed. And in a moment of weakness, I might relent.

  You could lie.

  What? I thought lying was a sin—one of your ten commandments.

  Well, sometimes I allow for a little flexibility.

  Forcing his face into a bland mask, Selik held Rain’s chin in his grasp, demanding her attention, “There is a good reason why I will not penetrate you, Rain. I may engage in battle on the morrow, and I cannot risk weakening my body with consummation. ’Tis the way of many warriors,” he lied, almost choking on the words.

  Rain nodded hesitantly in understanding.

  “But that is not to say a warrior cannot relish a bit of pleasure,” he said with a laugh. Before she had a chance to react, he lifted her by the waist and set her astraddle his hips. All that separated her sheath from his sword were the thin fabrics of his loin cloth and her lacy woman’s undergarment. Enough, he hoped.

  Then he folded his hands behind his head and demanded, “Now, I want you to create some memories for me to take with me on the morrow.” They may have to last me forever.

  Rain’s eyes filled with tears, as if she understood. Everything took on a clean brightness then. Like a cleansing summer breeze, her essence surrounded and enveloped him. He was dead inside, and Rain radiated a vitality he craved.

  When her lips moved to but a hairsbreadth from his, he urged in a thick whisper, “Say the words again. One more time.”

  She knew, without questioning, what words he referred to.

  “I love you. You damn, sweet, infuriating, loveable Viking, I love you. I love you. I love you….”

  Selik heard the words echoing oddly in his head as his body grew suddenly heavy and lethargic. He could not keep his eyelids open. Apparently, he was more tired than he had realized. But the words felt wonderful as they washed over him like a caress.

  Before he fell asleep, he thought he heard Rain say something else. “Please, forgive me, Selik. I’m doing this for your own good.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rain grabbed Ubbi by the hand first thing in the morning and pulled him into Gyda’s private solar. She hoped to enlist his aid in getting Selik’s dead weight from Gyda’s house to Selik’s barn outside the city.

  “Ubbi, I have a confession to make. I really am a guardian angel sent from God.” Rain crossed her fingers behind her back at her blatant deception, then crossed her legs too, just in case.

  Ubbi’s cloudy eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Well, I jist knew it, mistress. I told the master, over and over, I did, but he would ne’er believe me. Sez ye come from sum lackwit country with lackwit people and lackwit ways, but I knew. I have a sense ’bout such things, I do.”

  “Well, Ubbi…by the way, are you a Christian?”

  He appeared hesitant. “I was baptized, jist as the master was, but I still worship the Norse gods, too.” He ducked his head sheepishly with the admission.

  “That’s okay,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “God understands.”

  “He does?” Ubbi asked hopefully.

  “Yes—and, Ubbi, God gave me a message for you.” Am I going to burn in hell for this one, God?

  Nah.

  Rain rolled her eyes and looked at Ubbi, whose jaw had dropped practically to his chest.

  “God sent me a message?” he asked, gulping with awe.

  “Yes, he said you should help me establish an orphanage for all the poor, homeless children in Jorvik.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “At Selik’s old homestead.”

  Ubbi gasped and braced himself against the arm of a nearby chair, as if suspecting he was about to be asked to do something he would not like. “The master will ne’er allow anyone on that land. Besides, the house burned down.”

  “We’re going to use the barn. I had a new roof put on yesterday, and Gyda and Ella are going to send some furniture and supplies there today.”

  “And my lord Selik agreed to all this?” he asked, blinking incredulously.

  “Well, not exactly.”

  Ubbi craned his neck upwards to get a better look at her face, then groaned and put a widespread palm to his heart. “Oh, Lord, oh, Lord, oh, Lord. The master does not know, does he?”

  Rain shook her head. “Will you help me?”

  “The master will kill me, fer certain,” he cried, pulling desperately at his unruly hair with both hands. “Are ye sure God asked that I help you? Mayhap ’twas some other Ubbi.”

  Rain smiled. “No, he specifically mentioned you. Unless you refuse, of course.”

  “How can I refuse one of God’s own angels? ’Tis an unfair position ye put me in, mistress.”

  If you only knew! “There is one other thing, Ubbi, but you have to promise me that even if you decide not to help me, you won’t try to destroy my plans.”

  “Des…destroy yer plans,” Ubbi sputtered. “How can ye even think I would do such?”

  “Well, Ubbi, I have a large—a very large—item I need to have moved out to the farm. Will you help me get it onto a wagon and then up to the loft of the barn?”

  “A large…What is it?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Come with me,” she said, motioning him up the stairs. When they reached the bedchamber, she stepped back and let the little man enter first, putting her hands over her ears to shut out Ubbi’s shouts of alarm.

  “Oh, my God! Oh, holy Thor! The master is dead,” Ubbi wailed, throwing himself across Selik’s body, which lay perfectly still on the pallet, stone-cold unconscious.

  “He’s not dead, Ubbi,” Rain assured him quickly. “He’s just sleeping.”

  Unbelieving, Ubbi shook Selik’s shoulders, to no avail. “The master is dead, the master is dead. What did ye do to him? Did it happen during the co
upling?”

  “Ubbi! Shame on you,” she said, wagging a finger in his face. “And Selik is only sleeping, I tell you. I—well, I gave him some herbs to make him sleep.”

  “Why?” he asked, squaring his shoulders.

  “To save him.”

  Ubbi plopped down on the edge of the bed next to Selik. “Methinks I do not want to hear this.”

  “Now, Ubbi, remember when we first met. You were thankful then that God sent me to save Selik.”

  “Yea, but—”

  “And you know how unsafe it is for him to travel into Saxon territory, especially since that despicable Gravely character is there.”

  “Yea, but—”

  “His rage against Steven blinds him to the dangers.”

  “Yea, but—”

  “The bottom line here, Ubbi, is that I truly, truly believe that Selik will be killed if he goes after Steven of Gravely right now. When I talked to Selik last night, I think he had the same foreboding. And that’s the God-honest truth.”

  Ubbi rested his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands for a long time. When he finally looked up, he held her eyes and asked, “How long dost thou think he will sleep?”

  “A full day. I gave him enough opium—poppy juice—to sedate an elephant.”

  “Best we get started then,” he said, shaking his head with disgust at the part he was going to play in her plan.

  Selik awakened groggily to a splitting headache, a dry mouth, and an uncomfortable feeling in his arms and legs. And he had to piss so bad his cock hurt.

  As he slowly opened his eyes, he realized that it was daylight already. God’s blood! He should have been long gone, halfway to Wessex by now. How could he have dawdled so long in bed?

  Rain! His eyes shot wide open at his remembrance of the wily wench who had seduced him with her sweet ministrations the night before. No doubt she hoped to delay his departure by allowing him to oversleep.

  He started to stretch and arise when he realized that he could not move. He looked down and saw that he was tied to a bed, hand and foot. And worse, a gag across his mouth prevented him from speaking. He sniffed deeply, trying to place the odor that surrounded him. Hay. He was in a barn, not Gyda’s house, as he had originally thought.

  Oh, bloody, bloody hell! Selik gritted his teeth on a silent scream of agony. That bastard Gravely must have entered Gyda’s house and captured him during the night. And knowing his inclination to cruelty, he no doubt killed everyone else in the house. Or tortured them.

  Rain! Selik suddenly remembered that Rain was in the house with him. Oh, dear God, if you exist, please do not let her be in Steven’s hands. She would be better off dead.

  Desperate, he squirmed and bucked against his restraints, to no avail. He could not break free from the ropes. He closed his eyes then against the agonizing images that crossed his mind, knowing only too well the sadistic pleasure that Gravely would get from torturing a woman like Rain.

  “Well, finally you’re awake. It’s about time. You’ve been sleeping for two days.”

  Selik’s eyes flew open when he recognized Rain’s voice. Was she restrained somewhere nearby? But when he looked sideways, he saw her walking freely toward his bed. What the bloody hell was going on? He struggled once again but could not loosen the ropes. Jerking his chin upward several times, he tried to signal Rain to remove his gag.

  She approached his cot warily and untied the cloth across his mouth.

  “Hurry and untie me afore Gravely or his hellish cohorts return.”

  “I can’t do that, Selik,” Rain said softly, stepping back from his bed.

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because it wasn’t Steven of Gravely who drugged you and tied you up.”

  “Drugged…?” Selik’s eyes narrowed as his groggy mind began to understand. “Who, pray tell, do I thank for my captivity then?”

  “Me,” she whispered.

  “Argh!” Selik bucked repeatedly up and down on the bed, causing the frame to shake, while straw from the mattress flew about him. But whoever had tied his ropes knew knots well. His eyes knifed Rain’s frightened ones then, and he declared in a steely voice, “You realize, of course, that I will have to kill you for this.”

  “Now, Selik, once you’ve had a chance to calm down, I’m sure that you’ll understand that this was for the best.” Her shaky voice betrayed her uncertainty.

  “Where are my men?”

  “Still in Jorvik.”

  “Where do they think I am?”

  “Gyda told them you went to Ravenshire, that you’ll be back in a few weeks.”

  “And just how long were you planning to hold me here? And, by the way, where are we?”

  “About two weeks, I suppose. Until I know for sure that Gravely has left Wessex,” she said, sitting on the edge of his small bed, near his feet. “And you’re in the loft of the barn at—now, Selik, don’t get mad when I tell you this—we’re in that barn at your old farmstead.”

  Selik could feel his eyes bulge with disbelief.

  “You just popped a vein in your forehead. I told you before you should be careful about that.”

  Intense fury clogged his throat so he could not speak, even if he could find the words to voice his raging fury. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and counted over and over and over until he got his temper under control.

  “What are those words you’re muttering under your breath?” Rain asked casually as she picked pieces of straw off his braies.

  “I am counting the ways in which I will torture you once I am free. And I want you to know, wench, that I intend to enjoy the sport immensely.”

  “You mean, like you punished me by kissing me endlessly?”

  He shot her a look that he hoped told her what an utter fool she was to tease him at a time like this. “The only kiss you will feel is that of my knife. First, I think, I will skin you alive—oh, not totally. I would not want you to die afore the other tortures. Perchance, I will pull out your eyelashes next—”

  Selik stopped suddenly, cocking his head. “What is that noise?”

  A number of shrill, laughing voices rose from below.

  Rain looked away guiltily, and Selik wondered what other surprises she had in store for him. “Tell me,” he demanded.

  “It’s the children.”

  “What…bloody…children?” he asked, spacing his words evenly, trying to control his splintering patience.

  “The orphans,” Rain barely squeaked out. When he said nothing, just stared incredulously with his fingernails digging into his palms, she went on. “I decided I would need a cover in case the Saxon soldiers came here looking for you; so, I opened an orphanage.”

  “Let me see if I understand, Rain. You decided I did not know what was best for my own future, so you drugged me, carted me out to the homestead that I have ordered closed to one and all, tied me up, and welcomed children onto my property when you know full well I detest the sight of the misbegotten, wet-nosed curs.”

  “That’s about it,” she admitted with a weak smile.

  “And who, pray tell, helped you carry me here, or did you carry me on your back like a horse?”

  “There’s no need to get nasty. Ubbi helped me—”

  “Ubbi! Now, you turn my loyal friend against me, too.”

  “It wasn’t like that, Selik.”

  “I have to piss,” he said with sudden bluntness. “Untie me so that I can relieve myself.”

  “Oh, I should have thought…” Rain rushed quickly to the other side of the loft and brought a pottery urn to his side and was about to untie the cord of his braies.

  “Do not even think it,” he warned icily.

  “Now, Selik, I’m a doctor. I do these things all the time for my patients—”

  “I would rather soak my braies like a babe than have you minister to my needs. Truly, you pass the bounds of all that is seemly in a woman. And what were you planning for my other…needs?”

  “A bed pan,” Rain
said matter-of-factly. “I fashioned it from one of Gyda’s old baking pans.”

  “A bed…a bed pan,” Selik sputtered out. “If you ever dare to approach me with such, I swear—do you hear me, you halfwitted bitch—I will make you sorry you were ever born.”

  She had the good sense, at least, to back away from him then, sensing rightly that she’d pushed him beyond his limits of tolerance for one day.

  “Ubbi!” he shouted then and heard the laughter and shrill voices below come to an abrupt halt. “Ubbi! Get your bloody hide up here! Now! I have to piss!”

  To Rain he said in a voice thick with loathing, “Best you get out of my sight, wench, for I find the sight of you makes me retch.”

  She recoiled at his harsh words, and hurt flashed across her face, turning her golden eyes misty and her lips trembling, but she followed his orders and left. He did not care. The woman unmanned him, then expected him to be thankful.

  He turned his eyes upward, suddenly suspicious. Is this your idea of a jest, God? If so, please note, I am not laughing.

  You will.

  Selik sensed someone standing at the foot of his bed, but he kept his eyes closed. Lord, he was tired of arguing for the past five days with Rain about releasing him. If he heard her say one more time that she did it because she loved him, he thought he would vomit. And Ubbi—the dimwit—believed God had sent him a personal message calling for an orphanage.

  The barn was surprisingly quiet, even though it was not yet noon. Rain had, no doubt, gone off to the hospitium in Jorvik, where she performed her good deeds among the culdees. Hah! He would show her a few good deeds when his hands were free—ones he would wager she never read in her bloody medical manuals. And Ubbi, who had been caring for his bodily needs, much to Selik’s humiliation, would have a few more kinks in his gnarled muscles when he finished with him.

  Finally, still sensing a presence in the room, Selik’s curiosity got the best of him and he slitted one eye just enough to see who dared to disturb his peace, meager though it was. Christ’s bones! It was one of the orphans Rain had welcomed onto his property—the little girl they had seen outside the hospitium days ago.