Viking Warrior

by Connie Mason

  “Aye,” Reyna muttered. “How do you feel about him?”

  Helga shrugged. “I have known Rannulf for years and I am of an age to wed. I could do worse.”

  “Do you like him enough to spend the rest of your life with him?”

  “If it does not work out, ’tis simple enough to divorce him. Is it not the same in your land?”

  “Aye, a woman has but to walk out the door of her husband’s hall, declare herself divorced and return to her father’s home. Any children born from the union go with her.”

  “It is the same here.” Helga cocked her head. “Will you tell me why you go out of your way to avoid Rannulf?”

  “I prefer to keep my own counsel. It is you who must decide if Rannulf is worthy of you.”

  Both women turned contemplative as they performed their tasks. At length, Helga said, “Rannulf is not the only male you are avoiding. What has Wulf done to you? He asked me to see to your welfare while he and my brothers prepare the farmstead for the coming winter.”

  Reyna felt herself flush. “Wulf is inordinately possessive of his property.”

  “I think it is more than that.”

  “I am Wulf’s enemy.”

  “I do not think so.”

  “He is my enemy.”

  Helga sent her a look of utter disbelief. “I do not believe that either.”

  Reyna dropped the subject. It was beginning to make her uncomfortable. “I have a favor to ask of you, Helga.”

  “Ask away. I will do what ever I can to help you.”

  “Will you arrange to have furs brought to me so that I can sleep here in the stillroom? The bench is wide and will serve me well, and there is a hearth to keep me warm if I am supplied with wood.”

  “Why do you wish to sleep in the stillroom when Wulf’s hall is where you belong?”

  “I feel at ease here with my herbs. Besides, Uma hates me. I prefer to keep out of her way.”

  “Out of my brother’s way too, I assume,” Helga stated sagely.

  Reyna ignored her comment, no matter how astute. “What say you, Helga. Will you help me?”

  “Aye,” Helga agreed. “I will bring sleeping furs myself and ask Eric to provide you with firewood and fresh water for as long as you remain in the stillroom. And I will continue to bring your meals.”

  “Thank you; I appreciate your kindness.” She hesitated. “About Rannulf, if I were you, I would think long and hard about wedding him.”

  True to her word, Helga brought a stack of furs later that day and Eric carried in firewood and built a fire in the hearth. Now all Reyna had to do was avoid a confrontation with Wulf when he learned about her new sleeping arrangements.

  Later that day, after she finished the evening meal Helga had brought, Reyna prepared her bed on the bench, stripped to her shift and sat down to brush her hair. Both Helga and Inga had kindly provided her with items that made life easier for her, including a brush, comb and scented soap. She was also allowed to use the volcanic pool and did so often.

  Reyna was still brushing her hair when the door burst open and Wulf stormed through the opening.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he roared.

  Reyna knew precisely what he meant but pretended otherwise. She was shaking inside, so she remained sitting lest her legs fail to hold her upright. “To what are you referring?”

  Wulf’s gaze strayed to the bench, already laid out with sleeping furs. “You did not ask my permission to camp out in the stillroom. Taking your meals and spending your days and nights in the stillroom tries my patience. Gather your clothing; I am taking you home, where you have a perfectly good bed.”

  “I prefer to stay here,” Reyna defied.

  Wulf prowled toward her. Reyna flinched; she didn’t know what he intended. Would he strike her? Most masters would not hesitate to punish a disobedient slave. But Wulf was not most masters.

  He snagged her about the waist, scooped her into his arms and carried her out the door.

  She pounded his chest. “Put me down!”

  “Cease!” Wulf roared. “Have you forgotten that you belong to me? You will do as I say whether you like it or not.”

  Wulf kicked open the door and carried her across the yard to his hall, not stopping until he reached her sleeping alcove. He shoved the curtain aside and set her down on her feet.

  He bared his teeth at her. “This is where you belong. Never pull a stunt like that again.”

  Reyna took a step backward. He was too close, too aggressively male; too feral with his teeth bared as if he wanted to devour her. The alcove was too small. All he had to do was reach for her, and he did, bringing her against his aroused body.

  “You know why I cannot stay with you, Wulf. We cannot be together. There is too much enmity between us.”

  He caressed her breast through her shift. “Enmity is not what I am feeling right now.”

  “I know you are angry with me but it will pass. We do not belong together.”

  “Why not? I have not harmed you, nor have I forced you.”

  “No, you have not, but you still do not understand. I do not trust myself with you. You have but to look at me and I am lost. You know we have no future together as long as I remain a slave. Our situation as it stands is unbearable for me.”

  “How does living in the stillroom help?”

  She looked away.

  He grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Answer me, Reyna.”

  “I do not have to contend with temptation if you are not around to tempt me.”

  A grin stretched Wulf’s lips. “I tempt you?”

  She changed the subject. “Uma hates me. Moving into the stillroom keeps peace in your household.”

  Wulf knew she was trying to avoid the issue she had just raised. “You did not answer my question. Do I tempt you?”

  “You know you do. But as long as I am your thrall, naught will come of it. I am too proud to play the slave for any man, especially Wulf the Ruthless.”

  “This is no game, Reyna. You are in truth my slave. Until I give you leave to do otherwise, you will sleep in my hall.”

  When Reyna tried to push him away, Wulf tightened his hold. She felt too good in his arms with naught covering her charms but a thin shift. He ground his hips against the soft place between her thighs, his randy cock wanting more than she was willing to offer. He stared at her lush lips. Could he tempt her beyond control? A wary light glowed in her green eyes as he slowly lowered his head to her. He claimed her lips just as she opened her mouth in protest. He ignored the tiny squeak that escaped her throat as his tongue swept past her teeth into her mouth. He kissed her thoroughly, savagely, determined to break down her barriers.

  He nearly crowed when he felt her mouth soften, felt her body melt against his. Reyna was his! Despite her protests, she all but admitted she couldn’t resist him. One hand found her breast while the other began to slowly raise the hem of her shift.

  He was wrong. Reyna could resist him. She proved it by scrambling away and putting the narrow bed between them.

  “I will not become your bed slave, Wulf. You can force me but I guarantee you will not like it.”

  Frustration colored Wulf’s words. “I do not know why I bother when there are countless women willing to accommodate me. I can have any thrall I wish in my bed, with little effort on my part.”

  Reyna had no idea why Wulf’s words should hurt but they did. Though she knew denying him was denying herself, she refused to think of herself as a slave to her master’s whims. If Wulf admitted she was a woman with a choice, she might be tempted to lie with him, for she knew he was capable of giving her great pleasure.

  Wulf had shown her that not all men were brutes like Rannulf, who selfishly used women, disregarding their unwillingness or pain. And Reyna was grateful to Wulf for that much. She could easily learn to care for him if he treated her as a woman and not a possession.

  Reyna cast a wary glance at Wulf. Why hadn’t he left to find a willing wo
man? Why was he staring at her, devouring her thinly clad body through hooded eyes? Crossing her arms over her breasts, Reyna tried to shield herself from his probing gaze.

  “Why are you still here?”

  “Thor’s hammer, woman, I do not want just any woman. To my everlasting regret, I want you.”

  Without warning, Wulf reached out a long arm, snagged Reyna about the waist and dragged her across the bed. Then he fell on top of her, effectively pinning her beneath him. For Reyna, Wulf’s unexpected attack was far too reminiscent of Rannulf’s assault. She began to struggle in earnest, to strike out, recalling the raid with vivid clarity.

  “No!” she cried, thrashing her head from side to side. “Do not hurt me, I beg of you.”

  Wulf gathered her flailing wrists in his hands and held them above her head as he rose to his knees and stared down at her as she continued to struggle.

  “Rayna, I am not going to hurt you. Look at me. I am Wulf, not Rannulf.”

  He released her wrists and slid off her.

  Slowly Reyna’s wits returned. Disoriented, she glanced around, suddenly aware that she was lying on a bed of furs and not on the hard, blood-soaked ground.

  “I…I thought…”

  “I know what you thought and it pains me that you consider me a ravishing beast. I won’t bother you again.”

  Whirling on his heel, he stormed from the alcove. Tears blurred Reyna’s vision. The flashback to that terrible day of the raid had undone her. Though she knew in her heart Wulf wouldn’t hurt her, she couldn’t prevent the fear and panic that had gripped her.

  Reyna swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks as she came to a decision. She had to leave Wulf and return to her own country. She desperately needed to know if her parents still lived. Had her brothers returned safely from their travels to find their parents dead, their sister gone and everything they held dear destroyed? Remaining here as Wulf’s slave would bring her nothing but heartbreak.

  Chapter Eight

  Reyna had no idea why she couldn’t stop crying after Wulf had departed, assuring her he wouldn’t bother her again. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Wulf was a Norse savage. A plunderer. A killer of innocent people.

  Yet she could not deny there was something between them. Something irresistible and compelling. Then reality cut into her thoughts. There was too much painful history between them to ignore, too many obstacles, too much distrust. And their situation as master and slave was intolerable to her.

  A tentative smile chased away the tears as Reyna’s imagination ran amok. What if she were the master and Wulf the slave? Oh, how she would enjoy that, even though she knew it would never come to pass. Wulf was a dangerous man. He would make a terrible thrall. However, the pleasant image of Wulf doing her bidding soothed her rattled nerves and she drifted off to sleep.

  Wulf attempted to ignore Reyna during the following days. He and his brothers worked tirelessly to prepare the farmstead for winter, when snow would likely reach the roof and the wind would howl through the trees. Unfortunately, the image of Reyna lying beneath him on the bed, her pale gold hair spread over the pillow, haunted his mind and kept him in a constant state of arousal. He should take her as his body demanded. The only thing stopping him was the paralyzing fear he had seen in her green eyes. He couldn’t abuse her as Rannulf had done, but his willpower was ebbing by the day…no, by the hour.

  Wulf entered the main hall and looked around for Hagar. Today he intended to help his brother and the male thralls stack firewood they had gathered. Wulf suspected Hagar wanted to remain close to home during the next few days. Olga’s time was near and Hagar didn’t want to wander far from the hall.

  The hall was in an uproar when Wulf entered. Thralls were running hither and yon; his mother and Hagar were nowhere in sight. Helga spotted Wulf and hurried over to him.

  “What is going on?” Wulf asked.

  “ ’tis Olga,” Helga replied, wringing her hands. “She went into labor last evening and is suffering terribly. Mama doesn’t know how to help her. The babe does not want to be born.”

  Thora stepped out of Olga’s sleeping alcove, a frown worrying her brow. She spotted Wulf and visibly relaxed. “Thank the gods you are here, son,” she said. “The birth is more than I can handle. We need Reyna. Would you please fetch her? Tell her to bring her medicinal chest.”

  “Why did you not send for Reyna immediately when you knew Olga was in trouble?”

  “Olga did not want Reyna touching her. I will explain later; just fetch Reyna. You will probably find her in the stillroom. Tell her that her skills are desperately needed.”

  Nodding, Wulf ran from the main hall and raced across the yard to the stillroom. He opened the door and charged inside. Stunned by his abrupt entrance, Reyna assumed a defensive stance.

  “What are you doing here? Can you not see I am busy?”

  “Olga went into labor last night and it is not progressing well. Mother fears Olga and the child will die. She asked me to fetch you. Bring your medicinal chest.”

  “Why did Thora wait so long to send for me?”

  “Olga did not want you touching her. That does not matter now. You may be the only one who can save Hagar’s heir.”

  Reyna added a small vial to the chest, slammed down the lid and handed it to Wulf. Then she sped out the door with Wulf following close behind. When they reached the hall, Thora was waiting for her, pacing before the hearth and wringing her hands.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Reyna asked in a hushed voice.

  “The babe won’t come. Olga is too exhausted to push and there is too much blood.”

  “I will go to her. Please send in a basin of hot water so I can cleanse my hands. Have you assembled clean cloths and the usual things necessary for birthing a babe?”

  “All is in readiness,” Thora replied. She glanced at Wulf. “Take your brother outside and keep him occupied. The sleeping alcove is small; he will be in the way.”

  Suddenly Hagar burst from the alcove, his face creased with worry. “Where is Reyna?”

  “Right here, son,” Thora replied.

  “Go to her, Reyna. Her life and that of our babe depends on your skill. Ignore her ranting, for she knows not what she says. She needs you, even if she does not want you.”

  Reyna hurried toward the sleeping alcove. When Hagar started to follow, Wulf grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

  “Let Reyna handle the birthing, brother. You are not needed. In truth, you can best serve your wife by coming outside with me and stacking wood, just as we planned.”

  Hagar looked longingly at the alcove before allowing Wulf to lead him out the door.

  Reyna pushed through the curtain and assessed the situation with a single glance. A naked Olga, her belly heaving, her face a mask of pain, was covered with perspiration and moaning softly. Reyna approached the bed and placed a hand on Olga’s belly. Reyna wasn’t new at this. Her mother was a midwife and Reyna had assisted at several births, some of them difficult. Now, her innate sense of healing kicked in, and she knew immediately that Olga was in trouble. The next contraction made Olga arch violently, her scream a piercing cry for help.

  Reyna whispered soothingly in Olga’s ear. “Relax, Olga, try taking deep breaths. I’m going to help you bring your babe into the world.”

  The sound of Reyna’s voice seemed to increase Olga’s agitation. Opening her eyes wide, she spat, “Get her away from me! I don’t want that witch touching me.”

  Thora hurried to Olga’s side in an effort to placate her. “Calm yourself, Olga. Reyna is here to help.”

  “Can you not see Hagar wants her in his bed? I do not trust her.”

  “You are wrong, Olga,” Reyna insisted. “Hagar wants only you. He anxiously awaits his heir. Please calm yourself lest you harm your child.”

  Olga was in no mood to listen to reason as she began to struggle against Reyna’s ministrations. Reyna moved away to the medicinal chest, searching for and finding the vi
al she had placed there earlier.

  “Is this laudanum?” Reyna asked Thora. “I found it in the stillroom.”

  Thora frowned at the vial filled with dark liquid. Then her face cleared with sudden comprehension. “Aye, ’tis laudanum, a concoction made from the poppy plant to relieve pain. Hagar brought it back from Byzantium on one of his voyages. My sister used it sparingly to ease pain.”

  Reyna nodded and set it aside. “I thought so. Though my mother had no such concoction, we knew of it. I am going to examine Olga and need your help to calm her.”

  Thora followed Reyna to the bed, her face a mask of anxiety. “Will she live?” she whispered.

  “She will if I have anything to do with it. Something is keeping the babe from being born and I need to find out what it is before I can help her.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Olga cried. “I am going to die—I know it.”

  “No, you are going to live, and so is your babe,” Reyna said fiercely. “Unless you continue to fight me.”

  Olga looked desperately at Thora. “Do not let her touch me. I do not like her. Have you forgotten that her people killed Astrid?”

  Reyna realized helping Olga wasn’t going to be easy. Her hostility was making her unreasonably fearful. If Olga and her child were to be saved, Reyna would have to take extraordinary measures.

  “You will find some dried raspberry leaves in the medicinal chest,” Reyna said to Thora. “Place them in a mug and brew them into a strong tea for me, please. Add no more than two drops of laudanum to the tea and steep it until the liquid is the color of tree bark. The raspberry leaves will aid Olga’s labor and the laudanum will calm her enough for me to conduct my examination.”

  While Thora rushed off to brew the tea, Reyna did her best to calm Olga, softly talking her through her contractions, which had coalesced into one unending pain. When Thora arrived with the tea, a thirsty Olga sipped the entire cup. A short time later, laudanum took effect and Olga’s body relaxed, though she still moaned and cried out with each contraction.

  Reyna washed her hands thoroughly, then proceeded with her examination. A few minutes later, her expression grave, she glanced at Thora and said, “The babe is stuck in the birth canal. He needs to be turned before he can be born. If the babe is not turned into position, both Olga and her child will die.”