“They never had a horse? Ever?” To Tykir, that appeared to be the ultimate loss in the world.
“Never, but they had pet dogs. Let me think. Over the years, there were Rover, Morris, Nellie and Elvis.”
“Elvis,” Tykir whispered in awe. “’Tis a wondrously fine name, think you not?”
Oh, no! This was one place Elvis followers would never expect a sighting, Ruby thought, stifling a laugh. Tykir’s emotions were so open and vulnerable. The little stinker looked as if he hadn’t bathed in days. His blond hair, so like his father’s, stuck out in greasy spikes as he gazed hopefully up at her. Ruby felt her heart expand and fill with warmth. How could Thork and Dar and Aud bear to neglect such a dear little soul?
“I think Elvis would be a wonderful name,” she declared, and was rewarded with a grateful smile.
“Why is your hair wet?” Tykir asked.
“I was swimming in the pond. Have you been there?”
He nodded. “But I cannot swim. Father…I mean, Thork…is gonna teach me someday, but he mus’ go Jomsviking soon.” He raised his chin defiantly, his voice quivering with unshed tears “Someday I will be a Jomsviking, too. Then I kin be with my…with Thork…as much as I want.”
One more bone Ruby had to pick with Thork, she thought. “Does Eirik want to be a Jomsviking also?”
“Nay, he dreams of being a fosterling at the Saxon court, like Uncle Haakon, who is of the same age,” Tykir said with distaste, scrunching up his nose. “He sez we Vikings mus’ learn the Saxon way to survive in their lands.” Tykir blushed and looked down sheepishly then, as if he knew he’d said too much.
“Does his father know of this wish?”
“Nay, Eirik could ne’er tell him that.”
This whole situation of separating parent and child was ridiculous, in Ruby’s opinion. No, more than that, it was destructive, and she vowed to do something about it. Ruby knew she would have to employ tact in persuading Thork to act the true father to his sons—even if it meant giving up his precious Jomsviking oath, even if it meant moving to a new land. Even if it meant Thork’s taking her with him—if that’s what it would take to escape this dangerous nightmare, Ruby vowed.
But Ruby became increasingly alarmed the next few days as the Althing approached and Thork accelerated his activities related to his departure for Jomsborg. What would happen to her at the Viking-style court? If the venomous looks she got from Dar’s knights and workers were any indication, her fate loomed bleak. All free males in Northumbria, including these very men, could vote at the open-air assembly.
Well, if no one else was going to help her, she would have to take matters in hand herself, but first she needed a plan. Not just any plan. It had to be the ultimate, sure-fire master plan—the mother of all plans.
Thork will have to marry me.
It was the only way. If he married her, none of the Vikings would dare harm her, and she could make a home for Eirik and Tykir. She had no other choice. So, finally, she settled on a three-part strategy: persuasion, seduction and/or force, in that order. She hoped the last would not be necessary. Actually, she hadn’t even thought that far.
Ruby decided to enlist Ella in her plot.
“’Tis barmy ya are! I told ya that the first day I saw ya at the docks,” Ella exclaimed, trying to slink away. “Mebbe ya got worms in yer head. That be it, I wager! Most folks has worms in their guts from eating maggoty food, but they unleashes them from their nether ends in the garderobe. The barmy ones, like you, well, the worms crawl up inta their heads and make ’em go mad. Onct I even heard ’bout a man whose worms crawled out his ears and—”
“No, no, no! I’m not crazy. Can’t you see that marriage with Thork would protect me from these vicious Vikings who’d just as soon have my head on a pike?”
Ella shook her head dubiously.
“Eirik and Tykir need a family. Maybe we could all move to another country where there would be no danger. Perhaps you could even come with us.”
A spark of interest showed in Ella’s eyes. “Where? What country?”
Ruby hesitated. “Well, how about Iceland? I’ve heard some of the Vikings talk about emigrating to that new land.”
“Iceland!” Ella exclaimed, preparing to walk off in a huff. “You are barmy! Freeze my arse off in some land of rebels and outlaws! When frogs fly, mebbe!”
Ruby shrugged hopelessly. “Actually, I was hoping such a drastic move might jolt me back to the future.”
“Oh, that be just wunnerful! You get us all to that Godforsaken country and then you just skip off to yer own pleasures. What do I do then? Chip icicles off the boys’ noses fer fun? Or play hidey-hole with the whales and seals?”
“Ella, this really isn’t a bad plan,” Ruby asserted, trying hard not to laugh.
“Seems ta me yer fergettin sumpin important here,” Ella offered sagely. “Thork avoids ya like the bloody flux these three days past, eber since that day you two rolled aroun’ in the straw in yer tower room.”
“We were not…oh, what’s the use. Can’t you see that he’s afraid of commitment to me? And he fears—”
“Hah!” Ella interrupted with a snort. “He does not seem too concerned ’bout committin’ wid Linette. She be all over him like honey on a hot rock, and the thrall Eda what cleans his chamber sez they go at it all night long. Linette’s moanin’ and groanin’ kin be heard all the way down to the hall.”
“Really, Ella, must you always repeat gossip? I don’t want to hear this.” No, she really did not want to know intimate details about Thork, Ruby thought jealously.
“Mebbe ya better hear it. Mebbe ya better realize that ta make yer plan work ya gotta step over Linette first.” Ella looked Ruby over critically, obviously doubting her ability to entice Thork away from the Viking widow. Turning to leave, Ella offered a tantalizing teaser over her shoulder, “Ya do know ’bout the ‘sickness’ Linette has, dontja?”
“What sickness?” Ruby had never seen a healthier-looking woman in her life.
“She cannot get enough of…you know.”
“What?”
“You know, the man’s parts betwixt her legs.”
“Oh, Ella! How can you say such things?” Despite herself, Ruby giggled.
“’Tis the truth, I swear. Everyone in the keep knows of it, most from having been there, I wager. Many’s the time the master and mistress speak on it of late and how they best hurry and marry her off afore no respectable-like Viking will have her.”
A nymphomaniac! Could it be true? No way! Ruby shook her head in doubt on the way back to the keep as the ditzy servant sashayed in front of her, self-satisfied with her latest imparting of rumors.
Ruby soon found her master plan easier to formulate than to enact. The only time she got to see Thork was at the evening meal, where Linette wrapped herself around him like cotton candy. And just as sickeningly sweet! Thork must be back in his “Avoid Ruby” mode. Hadn’t he said earlier that she put stumbling blocks in his Jomsviking activities.
Hah! Hold on, Thork, I’ve got a few boulders coming your way.
It rankled Ruby, however, to think she’d have to deliberately seduce Thork into marriage, especially when his arrogance and cold-blooded killings repelled her. She refused to think about that other side of him that drew her enticingly, that reminded her of Jack and all the good things they’d shared. Worst of all, Ruby wasn’t exactly sure how to seduce a man. Jack was the only man she’d ever been with—literally—and he’d always been the pursuer.
Late the next afternoon, she enlisted Ella’s aid. “Try to lure Vigi away from me for a little while so I can slip into Thork’s room. Do you think you could do that?”
“’Twill never work,” Ella grumbled as she went off to do as Ruby bid. “Bloody flux! I must be as barmy as she is. Prob’ly get my head chopped off, too.”
Ruby stealthily opened Thork’s door, first looking right and left to make sure no one saw her. Luckily, Thork was alone.
He stood with knees bent to bring his f
ace level with a sheet of metal on the wall above a small table. Barefoot and bare-chested, he was shaving the lather off his face with a sharp knife. Ruby took one look at his pants riding low on his slim hips, and her mouth suddenly went dry.
“Thork, I have to talk to you,” she croaked out.
Caught off guard, Thork jumped and the knife cut his face. Blood immediately oozed out against the white lather. “Holy Valhalla! What do you here, jumping out of corners?” His eyes narrowed. “And where the hell’s Vigi?”
“Now, Thork, don’t get mad at Vigi. I needed to talk to you, and you keep avoiding me.” Ruby wrung her hands nervously, not certain how to launch her mission.
Thork turned his back on her to resume his shaving. “Go away, wench,” he growled through lips pressed together to accommodate his shaving. “We have naught to discuss.”
Ruby moved to the side so she could see him better. Entranced, she watched as he puffed out his cheek and slid the razor in a smooth furrow through the lather. Lord! The urge to touch his skin was overpowering. “Do you want me to do that for you?” she offered weakly.
Thork arched his eyebrows at her, feigning horror. “You with a knife at my throat? Hah! The image makes my skin crawl.” He slanted an amused glance her way and shook his head despairingly. “Do I look like a lackwit?” Then quickly, without waiting for a reply, “Do not answer that!”
He didn’t look like a lackwit at all, Ruby thought, mesmerized by the motions of his long fingers as they wielded neat furrows through the foam. His knee-bent stance outlined the corded muscles in his thighs and tight buttocks. Ruby was acutely aware of golden hairs that dusted the planes of his rock-hard chest, trailed down the ridges of his washboard-firm abdomen and disappeared invitingly below his exposed navel. Her eyes shot back upward from that forbidden territory to land on the flat brown nipples. She had to restrain herself from reaching out and touching them, to feel their texture in her fingertips, to test their sensitivity.
Almost done shaving, Thork winked at her devilishly, aware of her too-obvious scrutiny. With a warm chuckle, he said, “Spit it out. What did you want to say to me?”
Ruby dropped her eyes before his perceptive gaze, but then blurted out the first thought that came into her head, “You have a marvelous chest.”
Laughter gurgled up out of Thork’s throat at her spontaneous remark. He couldn’t help but see the flush of embarrassment on her flaming cheeks. How could she have said something so stupid?
“Yours is also…marvelous,” he offered graciously, his blue eyes twinkling. Then he scrutinized her chest in mock seriousness. “Leastways, I think it is. Of course, I have only seen it totally uncovered once. Would you care to remove your tunic and show me?”
“No!” Ruby retorted, irritated by his apparent humor at her expense. But then she immediately questioned her overly quick response. Why had she answered negatively when her purpose was supposed to be persuading him to marry her? Some seductress she was turning out to be!
“Oh, all right,” she muttered, hot-faced with self-consciousness, as she reached for the hem of her loose tunic and pulled it up over her head.
Thork had just finished wiping his face with a square of linen when he realized what she was doing. “Odin’s eyeballs! What are you about now?” he sputtered, then ordered, “Put your garment back on.”
“You told me to take it off. You said you wanted to look at my chest,” Ruby argued, then finally gave in to her innate modesty and covered her breasts girlishly with her hands.
“I was not serious,” he choked out, unable to pull his eyes away from the sight of her standing in her black lace bra and panties. His smoldering eyes took in every inch of her exposed body.
Ruby shifted nervously from foot to foot, uncomfortable with his silent scrutiny, but before he had a chance to kick her out, she forced herself to follow through on her plan of persuasion. Reaching behind, she unsnapped her wispy bra, letting it drop to the floor.
“What do you think?” she squeaked.
Well, that certainly wiped the smile off his face!
Thork dropped his towel and gazed at her in amazement. “I cannot be sure,” he said huskily. “Come closer.”
The fire in his glittering eyes awakened slumbering embers deep inside Ruby that had been banked for such a long time. One part of Ruby wanted to rebel, to run like crazy from the room and the humiliation of her wanton behavior. The other part, the stronger one, pushed her feet—step by reluctant step—closer to Thork. The odor of his skin intoxicated her—sun, soap and man. Oh, yes, man! When she stopped a mere foot away, he took both breasts in his hands, weighing them, reshaping them. Cupping the undersides, he ran the pads of his thumbs over the already erect tips, and Ruby’s knees turned to Jell—o. Trembling, she reached up to his shoulders for balance.
Thork’s eyes collided with hers, questioning. His lips parted and he ran his tongue over their dryness.
“Truly, they are a…marvel,” he rasped out, “but then one cannot know for sure till the tasting.” Lifting her off the floor so her breasts were level with his face, he prolonged the moment agonizingly as his breath fluttered warmly against first one and then the other of the firm mounds. Finally he took a good portion of her breast in his wide mouth, drawing deeply, pulling slowly outward until his lips closed on the nipple.
“’Tis sweet as honey,” Thork whispered against her skin.
Ruby moaned and arched her back, begging softly, “That…feels…so…good! Oh, please, don’t stop.”
“As if I could!” Thork murmured in a raw voice, using his tongue expertly to lave the aureole, then circle the nipple wetly before flicking the tip in rapid vibrating motions.
Ruby cried out.
He moved to the other breast and repeated all the same motions, growling with satisfaction when she mewled softly. “Oh, yes, little cat, purr for me just so,” he coaxed.
By the time he lowered her to her tiptoes, brushing her nipples against the silky hairs on his chest in the process, Ruby’s mouth was level with his, and she could feel his steely erection pressing against her stomach. When his lips closed in on hers, Thork murmured in a thick, unsteady voice, “Is this what you came to talk to me about, little witch? Didst change your mind about bedding with me?”
His lips were already sealed with hers, devouring, pressing, when Ruby’s bemuddled mind registered his words. No, that wasn’t what she wanted to talk about, she reminded herself dazedly. What was it? Oh, yes! Now she remembered fuzzily.
“Thork,” she whispered. She pulled away from his lips, but he followed her and kissed her once again. This time she spoke louder when she broke the kiss with a gasp, “Thork, this isn’t what I wanted to talk about,” she said and drew in her breath sharply as his tongue assaulted the sensitive recesses of her ear. “At least, not exactly.”
Laughing, he backed up and took her with him, then sat down on the bed. He turned her so she sat on his lap. Ruby could feel the force of his arousal under her legs.
“What is it that’s so important?” he whispered in a distracted fashion, obviously as affected by this love play as she was. He kissed the nape of her neck and ran his fingers feather lightly over the inside of her thighs.
“Oh!” she gasped, and something wonderful twisted deep within her body.
“Oh, indeed,” Thork chuckled.
“Stop it, Thork. I can’t think when you do that.”
“’Tis the idea.” Then he pulled his hand away teasingly and nuzzled her neck again. “I’m listening.”
“Thork, I’ve decided…,” Ruby started, finding it hard to speak after his sensual attack, “…I’ve decided we should…we should…get…married.”
“You’ve decided,” Thork hooted derisively, dropping backward to the bed and shifting so that she lay at his side in the crook of his arm. He put his mouth to her breast again, and she could feel his smile. When his infolded lips and grazing teeth brought her to a mindless pitch once again, he looked up with passion-glazed
eyes and told her, “I’ve decided we should make love, without the marriage.”
Obviously, he didn’t think she was serious.
“No,” Ruby protested, trying to pull away, but he held her firmly in his arms. When she stopped struggling, Ruby implored him, “You have to marry me, Thork.”
“I do?” he asked seductively, rolling on his back and pulling her up on top of him, chest to breast, straining manhood to throbbing womanhood. He was not making this easy, at all.
“Sweetling, how many times do I have to tell you. I will not marry—ever.” Then he laughed and gave her a quick hug. “Leastways, in my country, the woman waits for the man to ask.”
“It’s pretty much the same in my country, even with women’s lib,” Ruby confessed, “but I don’t have time to wait for you to do the asking.”
“Let’s talk about this later,” he cajoled smoothly and pulled her knees apart and forward so that she straddled him. They both gasped simultaneously at the shock of swirling pleasure, almost too intense to be borne.
Trying to slow down the careening pace of their sexual game, Thork asked, “What is this urgent need to talk of marriage?”
Inhaling deeply to stabilize her heightened senses, Ruby said, bracing her straightened arms on his chest, “I now realize I need your protection when I go before the Althing.”
“A wise conclusion.”
“Thork, let me move. I can’t concentrate.”
“Nay,” he laughed. “You are just where I have wanted you for a long time.”
She laid her right hand gently on his cheek. “Thork, I’m very concerned about Eirik and Tykir. They need a family unit—a mother and father, living together.”
Only the flickering muscle near his mouth betrayed his reaction to her mentioning his sons. “Do you try to cool my ardor by bringing up those subjects I forbade you to address?”
“Oh, Thork! I came to your room to try to make you see…oh, what’s the use!” She lay her face on his chest for a moment, then looked up, determined to try once more. “Did you know that Tykir plans to become a Jomsviking like you just so he can spend some time in your company? And Eirik wants to be fostered at King Athelstan’s court with his Uncle Haakon. The atmosphere there couldn’t be any colder than the one he lives in now.”
Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 01] Page 19
