by T S Florence
“We savages” he emphasised “are the ones keeping you safe from the other savages in these woods” do you think you would be safe out here by yourself?” He asked.
“Maybe you are the one I need saving from” tears streamed down Isla’s face.
“Maybe. Or maybe you need time to make a better judgment.” Ivar said, his voice softening.
“You’re a mercenary. You’re not my friend. I’m merely a bargaining chip to make you rich.” Isla said, beginning to calm down.
“I would bet that your life will be more pleasant in the next coming years than it has been in the last few years” Ivar said, looking into her eyes.
“You can’t say that, you cannot see the future” Isla said.
“I would have argued you on that point, before I met you” Ivar said, pausing before continuing, “you told me you would not try to escape,” Ivar said.
“I lied” Isla said.
“That’s what surprised me. I did not think you to be a liar” Ivar said.
“I would only lie to my enemies.” Isla said, breaking away from Ivar’s intense stare, feeling ashamed of her own words, knowing that despite all that had happened, she knew in her heart that Ivar was not her enemy. Intuition is what the ancient healers called it.
Ivar dismounted his horse, walked to Isla, and pulled her down off her horse. She felt herself growing warm under his intense gaze, his hands grasping her shoulders. He leaned his head down, planting his lips on hers, embracing her as a lover would. Isla gasped, jerking her head back, slapping him on his face.
“An enemy would not do that. Now back on your horse, princess” Ivar ignored the slap, lifting Isla back onto her horse effortlessly.
The rest of the day was spent in silence, and the men all wore guilty looks. Instead of having her own horse, Ivar had lifted her onto his own horse, without any words spoken. The next escape would prove more difficult, Isla thought.
5
Ivar
Was it wrong to kiss Isla like that, without her willingness? Ivar had lived his life seeing what he wanted and taking those things as he pleased. But what now that it involved a princess? He could not simply take her without her permission. If anything, she now seemed more furious than before. She sat in front of him, her body pressed against his, yet for how little heed she paid him, she could have been on a boat sailing to London.
This is the weakness that my father warned me of. Ivar held one hand on the reins, another around Isla’s stomach. She did not protest this, which he was glad of. But how could this woman make him weak? She is strong. Surely a woman such as Isla could only strengthen a man such like Ivar. A woman that all people loved. A woman with ferociousness that some of his warriors didn’t have. Ivar was plagued by troubled thoughts, and he had driven himself half mad by the time the sun had set and camp was made for the night. He could not have this woman unless she wanted him to have her. She was not one to be captured. Not one to be taken. Isla chose her man, just as much as he chose her.
If the plan does not work, then I must set her free.
Isla
Isla sat by the fire, Ivar standing by another fire, talking to one of his men, yet his eyes stayed on her. If his hands were not on her, then his eyes were. She was bound to him, whether she wanted it or not. Despite her wish to escape, something about his constant attention to her made her feel… Safe. Despite his savagery, and despite his reputation, she could not help but feel no more trouble could come to her while he was there. Her brain shouted at her that she was his bargaining chip. She was merely a means to an end, to make her rich.
And the kiss? The kiss was merely an attempt to seduce her. To prevent her from making another attempt at escape. Tomlin had proved that Isla was not a desirable woman. Ivar was probably waiting for the moment he could be rid of her.
She tried to take her mind off the warrior, and turned to watch the stew cook. She could hear her own stomach rumbling, and those of the warriors she was surrounded by, too. Magnus’ stomach growled so loud she thought it could scare away a bear. Another warrior, she learned his name was Ragnar, sat close by, grinding his axe.
“What are you preparing for that you would grind your axe?” Isla asked the warrior.
Magnus laughed at the question, but Ragnar ignored him “I sharpen it because you never know when you may need to take a head. Battle could commence at any moment. We are foreigners in a hostile land” he said, looking into the fire.
“He just loves to fight” Magnus said, simply.
“That I do” Ragnar replied, a glint in his eyes.
Skald sat emotionless, the flames flickering in his eyes did not take away the coldness behind them.
“Now, ladies first” Magnus heaped a large spoonful of stew into a bowl, and handed it to Isla.
“Magnus, may I ask you a question?” Isla asked, as he took a seat nearby.
“I cannot guarantee an answer, my lady, but ask away” he wave his hands, as if he were a king receiving questions from his people, causing Isla to laugh.
“Why me? She asked. Surely there were other ways to make money?” Isla kneaded her hands, unsure if she wanted to hear an answer.
Skald answered before Magnus could “Some men would pay a high price for a piece of royal pussy. A far higher price than we would get raiding coward English farmers”.
Isla shuddered at his reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious of her sex, surrounded by these men.
Magnus’ face turned to a glare, eyeing Skald. “That’s no way to speak to a lady, you crude son of a bitch”.
“At least I knew my mother” Skald replied.
Ragnar sighed, and walked over to stand between the two men. Magnus stood, taking a step toward him, causing Ragnar to put his hand against the huge man’s chest. Skald stayed seated, yet said something else in his mother tongue to Magnus. Magnus reached to pick up his huge axe, before a booming voice came from the other fire. Ivar.
Isla could not understand the words, but whatever was said caused Magnus to turn around and tend the stew, and Skald to go and sit at another fire. Ragnar chuckled to himself, as he walked back to his spot, continuing to grind his axe.
“Back to your question, my lady. You were chosen because of the price you are worth. The sum we will receive from your uncle will pay for the winters, for all of us, for the rest of our lives, and then our son’s lives. Ivar is doing this because it will shelter and feed every one of his men and their sons. He will no longer need to raid farmers and kill innocents. Ivar does not like to kill needlessly, and with the gold he will get for you, he will not have to.”
“This is quite contrary to the stories I hear of Vikings, raiding villages, killing priests and taking unwilling nuns” Isla said back, cautious not to offend the gigantic man.
This time, Ragnar answered instead of Magnus. “This is true. Some Viking clans are like this. Some Vikings, such as myself, love battle, and I suspect we always will. Of course, Ivar does not fight as much as I would like, but he also does not allow the taking of unwilling women or killing of children. This is why I stay with him.”
So Ivar wasn’t Ivar the cruel after all. Isla could see why his own men called him Ivar the Clever. It was a good plan he had. But the good plan rested on Isla’s freedom. First, she gave up her freedom to leave with the Vikings. This saved her people of Chester. Now, she will have her freedom given to the highest bidder in Newcastle. This will keep Ivar’s men fed. How could such huge consequences lie on one girl’s freedom? A girl that Tomlin had not even wished to share a bed with?
Ivar
“Your men told me why you are taking me back to Newcastle.” Isla said to Ivar, as she lay with her back against his body, her behind pressed into his groin.
“What do you mean?” Ivar said, caution in his voice.
“I didn’t know the gold was to prevent the needless killing of innocent people” Isla put her hand on his forearm.
“I fight for necessity. If I have enough money to retire from fighting,
then that is what I shall do.” Ivar said.
“Do your gods not reward those men who die in battle?” Isla asked.
“Of course, if you believe in such things. It is a nice way to encourage men to fight for your causes, don’t you think?” Ivar asked Isla.
“I hadn’t thought of it like that. Our god isn’t like that” Isla said.
“Yes he is, your god is just more clever about how he gets men to fight for him” Ivar said.
“I’m beginning to think sacrificing my own freedom might be worth that of the innocent people who will be saved should I not attempt to escape” Isla sorrow in her voice.
“You have tried this trick already, I will not fall for the same trick twice” Ivar replied, frowning at Isla, doubt in his mind as to what this girl’s true intentions actually were.
Isla giggled lightly. “What went through your mind when you saw me escaping?” Isla asked.
“Well, I took my anger out on my men, and I saw that you were clever enough to put the wagon in your path, but I also saw that you chose the slowest horse to try and escape on. It made me think you wanted to be caught,” Ivar said.
Ivar held Isla close against his chest. He knew if she escaped his hopes for a war-free future would be slim. He also knew if she escaped that he might grow to enjoy the war, to dull the pain of his unrequited longing.
“I should not have kissed you today” Ivar turned Isla over, so she was facing him. “It was wrong of me to take something that was not mine.”
“You did not take anything” Isla said, her eyes widening she looked into his eyes.
“I did. Your body was not mine to take. That is something for you to decide.” Ivar said.
“I was not in a very clear state of mind when you decided to kiss me, Ivar. You could have chosen a better time” Isla said, her face reddening at her admission.
“You mean, it was just a matter of time? Usually my timing is impeccable in battle” Ivar laughed lightly.
“Maybe that should call you Ivar the Awkward” Isla said, smiling at him.
“It doesn’t exactly strike fear or inspiration in the hearts of men, though.” Ivar had not been teased by a female before in his life, and to be teased gave him a funny feeling in his stomach. Something he had not felt before.
“I would have thought you’d have good experience with women” Isla said.
“I do not have time for women. Women are a weakness to men” Ivar said, sounding more like his father than he wanted.
“Some women, yes. But not all women” Isla said, her eyes showing him a need for love, a need for affection.
Ivar cupped his hands around the back of Isla’s head. “Would you call me Ivar the Awkward if I were to kiss you now?” Ivar asked, his heart thundering like it did before battle.
“I’m not sure” Isla said.
“Would you slap me again?” Ivar asked.
“Maybe,” Isla said, her breath short and sharp.
For the second time that day, Ivar placed his lips on hers. This time, she did not pull back. Her lips parted, just slightly. Ivar kissed her harder, a hunger erupting in him that he had not felt before. So many new feelings that this girl was making him feel. The girl from the blacksmith’s shelter. He moved his hand down to her behind, pulling her against his body.
A moan escaped her lips, as she sunk her fingers into his chest. He felt he could not get any closer, unless he entered her body. He pushed his hips against hers, feeling warmth between her legs. She pushed back, rubbing her body against hers. His breath, hot and heavy, covered her in warmth.
He pulled back, attempting to take control of his emotion. This is what makes a man weak. She will trick you. Without another word, he let go of her and turned his back to her. He felt her go still, before pulling herself close to him. Her hand wrapped around his body, landing on his stomach. He felt her lips on the back of his neck.
“A man cannot win a war without warriors, and he cannot succeed in life without a strong woman” Isla whispered into his ear.
* * *
Isla
Isla enjoyed the feeling of Ivar’s hand on her stomach, as they rode through the spring fields. His men laughing and joking behind them, Ivar had not said a word apart from orders in his mother tongue, for the whole day. Isla could feel Ivar’s confusion, He was a man who had gotten through his life without the help of a woman. He was just another person who needed the love she had so willingly given to her people her entire life.
When they stopped for lunch, Ivar ordered his warrior, Skald, to watch her. Not caring to have the man’s cold gaze on her, she moved to follow Ivar. “I would spend lunch with you,” she walked behind him, speaking to his back.
“What would you wish to gain from that, princess?” Ivar asked, not looking back, his huge figure tense as he walked.
“Just good company,” she replied.
Ivar barked an order at Skald, who turned and walked away. Isla followed Skald to the outskirts of their camp, watching him chop bread and cheese.
“I can see goodness in you, Ivar Bjornson” Isla put her hand on his shoulder.
His hard gaze lifted, taking her breath for just a second.
“Where did you learn that name?” He asked.
“One of your men mentioned it earlier” Isla said.
Ivar laughed, without giving a reply. Isla could sense he was putting back up the walls he had used his whole life. “It’s true” she continued.
Ivar stood, his huge figure standing over her. He dropped the knife and food to the grassy forest floor, and shoved her against a tree, the bark digging into her back.
“You don’t know me, princess, and you don’t know what I’ve done. I’m not a good person, so don’t give me your fake English manners.” He let go of her shoulders, turning back to the food.
Isla didn’t use the opportunity to tell him he had not used the word manners correctly, instead, turning to go back to the main group. Her whole life had been devoted to making the lives around her better, easier. And her whole life she had been treated badly by those closest to her. Now, Ivar the Cruel was the only person in the world who was close to her, and he hated her. She could not rely on him, her brain screamed. Ignore your heart, it will only betray you.
“If you think you can win Ivar over with your kind words, you’ll end up hurt, princess” skald drawled, his face and eyes emotionless.
“Leave her alone, Skald” Magnus handed Isla a plate of cheese, bread and apples.
She had never been more closely watched in her life, yet she had never felt more alone as she did in this moment. Kidnapped by strange men from a foreign land, taken for ransom. Magnus’ kindness was a candlelight, keeping Isla’s heart from descending into darkness.
“You know why Skald is so angry all the time?” Magnus asked Isla.
“I don’t” Isla said, not wanting to take her eyes off her plate.
“I put goat turds in his milk every morning” Magnus said, with a roar of laughter.
To Isla’s surprise, Skald laughed. This caused the rest of the men to laugh, which turned the candlelight into a small flame. Magnus cared, even if Ivar didn’t.
6
Ivar
What could they possible have to laugh about over there. Ivar watched Isla laughing with all of the men. Even Skald had a smile on his face. She saw Isla spitting out a cup of milk, which made all of the men laugh harder, especially Skald. She has them all fooled. As soon as they grow to like her, she will abandon them. Women make men weak, and weak men die. He felt his heart beat in his chest, fighting his resolution to build a stone wall around it, blocking out the passion he was feeling.
After Ivar had finished eating, he grabbed one of the ropes he had used on Isla when she had her own horse. He grabbed her by her shoulder and lifted her off her seat, tying the rope around her waist, tighter than he had before. Her eyes glistened with fury, as she stared at him defiantly.
“Maybe I was wrong about you, Ivar the Cruel” Isla said,
to laughs and murmurs around the camp. He threw the rope to Ragnar, who had been talking to Isla the least of his closest blood warriors.
“You will guard her with your life” Ivar commanded, in their mother tongue, so Isla would not understand. “We leave now.” He walked to his horse, and kicked hard into its stomach.
They rode hard the rest of that afternoon, not stopping for any more breaks.
Isla
His face looked hard when he tied her again, and Isla wondered what she had done wrong. She was tired of being treated like a slave, and tied up at every change of whim Ivar had. His broad back looked tense, his horse slick with sweat, as he rode hard under the spring sun, Ragnar staying close behind.
