He raised an eyebrow. ‘I beg your pardon.’
‘I said I will not. If you think I’m going to act as washerwoman for your crew you’re mistaken.’
‘You will do as I bid you. If I have to tan your bare backside first it’s all one to me.’
Outraged, she glared at him. ‘Why, you utter...’
‘If you’re not out of that door by the count of three you won’t sit down for a week.’
‘How I loathe you.’
Without taking his eyes off her Leif began to roll up his sleeves. ‘One...’
‘Brute!’
‘Two...’
Astrid paled and, with frantic haste, grabbed all the shirts, clutching them like a protective talisman. Then she backed towards the door. ‘All right! I’m going.’
‘I still think a good hiding would help focus your mind.’
He took a pace towards her. Astrid fled.
* * *
It took her the entire morning to launder all the shirts and hang them on bushes to dry, by which time her back was aching and her hands reddened and sore from the harsh lye soap and from kneading cloth. Then she began the other tasks still awaiting her attention, knowing full well that she wouldn’t dare leave any of them undone. Leif would not only make good his threat, he’d enjoy it too. The very thought made her hot and cold by turns.
When eventually it was all done she heaved a sigh of relief. Glancing down, she eyed her makeshift costume with distaste, feeling grubby and unkempt as well as tired. There had been no chance to bathe or even comb her hair since she was brought here. She looked longingly at the fjord for a little while and then decided to risk it. Most of the men had gone with the hunting party and wouldn’t be back until later. The three who remained were sitting by the large hov talking and playing tafl. They had barely even glanced in her direction all day. There would never be a better opportunity than this.
Astrid took the linen towel Leif had used earlier, and his comb, and made her way to the far end of the island where the shore was screened by bushes. Then she stripped off and waded into the water. It was cold but wonderfully refreshing. She washed herself all over, and her shift as well, before draping it over a bush in the sun. Having done that, she dried herself and slipped the makeshift gown over her nakedness. The woollen cloth was prickly against her skin but it was worth it just to feel clean again. Afterwards she sat down on a warm rock to let the sun dry her hair. It was peaceful here, a welcome respite from labour and from all company, and she let herself relax a little.
* * *
As the ship glided towards the mooring Leif smiled to himself. The hunt had been successful, with a fine deer to show for their efforts. They would dine well tonight; sleep well too, no doubt. That turned his mind in a different direction, and Astrid’s image filtered out all other thoughts. The memory of their parting that morning raised a quiet smile. Anger suited her. She was smart too, knowing exactly how far to push her luck. In spite of himself he was amused. If she knew how close she’d been sailing to the wind she might have been a lot more worried.
When the ship was tied up he gave orders for the meat to be carried ashore, then vaulted over the gunwale on to the wooden dock and made his way ashore. He had barely gone fifty yards when he checked in surprise: every bush in sight was festooned with drying shirts. As he looked around he experienced a twinge of guilt. Had there really been that many? It hadn’t seemed like it when they were bundled all together. Besides, his attention had been on Astrid rather than the shirts.
He hurried on towards his quarters. The door was open, the room beyond immaculate. It was also empty. Looking around, he saw no sign of Astrid anywhere. His smile faded. Had she somehow managed to give him the slip? Then he told himself not to be stupid: there was no way off the island other than by boat, no possible means of escape. She was here somewhere. Behind him he could hear the voices of his crew as they rejoined their remaining companions. Leaving them to it, he kept on going.
The island narrowed towards its furthest end, reducing the number of places for concealment, but when he still saw no sign of his quarry, Leif’s misgivings returned. I’ll swim if I have to. He frowned. The words had been spoken in anger; the little vixen couldn’t have meant them. Then he recalled his blade at her breast and the trickle of blood as she leaned on the point, and suddenly he wasn’t so sure. His gaze went to the quiet expanse of dark water. It was deep and cold, the far shore a good half-mile distant. If she’d tried that... Disquiet grew. And then, from the corner of his eye, he detected movement behind the screen of bushes nearby. His jaw tightened as he strode towards them. What he saw then took him so completely by surprise that he’d stopped in his tracks.
Astrid was perched on the edge of a low rock. She was wearing only the length of homespun cloth he’d given her. Being open at the sides, it afforded an uninterrupted view of a slender and shapely leg that seemed to reach all the way to her waist. Above it he glimpsed the smooth curve of a breast. Her pale gold hair was unbound, flowing over her shoulders and down her back almost to her hips. He watched her re-braid it and tie off the end with a length of ribbon. It must have been there when he carried her off that night, though he didn’t recall seeing it at the time. Having fastened it securely, she rose and went to retrieve her shift. When she removed the length of homespun cloth he almost forgot to breathe, his entire being caught up in the moment as reality outstripped all former imaginings. Unaware of being observed, she dressed unhurriedly, her movements as graceful as the figure beneath the folds of concealing cloth. He watched her fasten the belt that held it together. It was far too big, the spare end reaching halfway to her knees. The whole outlandish costume was an exercise in ugliness, intended to demean and humiliate. It ought to have looked ridiculous, and yet somehow she had managed to invest it with entirely different qualities.
His frown deepened and he cut off that line of thought abruptly. It was foolish and fanciful. More than that, it was dangerous. Astrid might be beautiful but she was also treacherous, something he’d do well to remember. If she sensed weakness she wouldn’t hesitate to exploit it. Whatever notions he might once have entertained about her before were irrelevant now. She was just a slave; one who needed reminding who was master.
He watched her gather up the towel and comb—both his, he noticed. Then she turned towards the camp. Leif stepped out to block her path. Startled, she looked up and he heard a sharp intake of breath.
‘I expected to find you in my quarters,’ he said.
‘I beg your pardon, my lord. It’s just that I...I wanted to bathe.’
‘So I inferred.’ He paused. ‘Who gave you permission?’
‘No one, my lord, but...’
‘But what?’
‘I... It seemed like a good opportunity.’
‘No doubt.’
‘I finished all my work first, I swear it.’
He ignored that. ‘Did I give you permission to use my towel and comb, slave?’
Astrid swallowed hard. ‘No, my lord. Forgive me.’
‘Taking my things without my knowledge could be construed as theft. The penalty for such a crime is severe.’
She paled, her gaze searching his. ‘I never meant it so. You must know that.’
‘I know nothing of the sort. You betrayed me before. Why would you shrink from theft?’
The violet eyes darkened with emotion. ‘I was on my way to return your things, and I didn’t betray you before either.’
‘I may give you the benefit of the doubt on the first point. On the second there is no doubt.’
‘Because you don’t want there to be.’
‘That isn’t so,’ he replied. ‘Even when I was chained in the kennels I hoped against hope that I was wrong. Then you revealed the truth from your own lips.’
‘No. I said what I was told to say, played the part I was commanded to play.’
‘Really? Well, you were most convincing.’
‘I had to be convincing. I had to make the
m believe me or...’
‘Or what?’ When she still said nothing, he took a step closer. ‘Or what, Astrid?’
‘Or they would have slit your nose and cut out your tongue. Even the smallest sign of disobedience in me would mean another beating for you and I couldn’t bear it. So I played their game and did as I was told.’
Leif was completely still, his face as pale as hers. ‘You expect me to believe this?’
‘You don’t want to believe it because then you would have no just grounds for your treatment of me. You don’t want to believe it because you’re enjoying this. Any scapegoat will serve as an excuse to vent your wrath and I am the most convenient.’ Her gaze locked with his. ‘You’re so consumed with thoughts of revenge that you’re deaf and blind to everything else.’
‘And yet on your own admission your acting skills are excellent.’
‘I said what they wanted to hear. I would have said anything to protect you.’
‘How very moving.’
‘You have no heart to move.’
‘You realise it at last. How you must be regretting your efforts on my behalf.’
‘No, I cannot regret that,’ she replied. ‘My only regret is that I ever trusted you.’
The blue-grey eyes burned. ‘I came for you that night. I kept faith with you.’
‘And I with you.’
‘We must agree to differ on that point.’
‘It doesn’t change the truth.’
‘This conversation is over.’ He jerked his head towards the camp. ‘Go.’
Astrid went without a word. For a little while he watched but made no move to follow. She didn’t look back and presently was lost to view among the trees. The knot tightened in his gut and he turned away, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. She was lying, no question. Deception was her stock-in-trade. She excelled at it. He hadn’t been able to detect so much as a flicker in those violet eyes or a note of insincerity in her voice. Her anger at least was genuine. The vixen had nerve, he’d give her that. Nor had her accusations entirely failed in their effect. For all he pretended otherwise, they had stung. You’re so consumed with thoughts of revenge that you’re deaf and blind to everything else. She had intended them to sting, of course. Words were weapons and sharper than swords. To vent his feelings he picked up a flat stone and flung it, watching it skim away across the fjord. It was followed by several more in quick succession. Astrid was skilled with words, and her words were lies.
Gradually, as some of the tension went out of him, he ceased throwing stones and sat down on a rock by the water’s edge. To an observer he might have been admiring the view. In reality he saw only a pair of violet eyes, unwavering violet eyes reflecting anger and pain. He frowned and pushed the image aside. She was lying. She had to be.
* * *
Astrid marched back to Leif’s quarters and returned the towel and comb to their rightful place. Unwilling to remain there, she went and retrieved all the shirts, collecting them up with indignant briskness until she had a great armful. Then she dumped the lot on a convenient boulder and set about folding them. The mechanical task at least gave her something to do other than sit around waiting to be the object of displeasure when Leif returned. His words, delivered with such cold sarcasm, had cut deep. Along with that was a burning sense of injustice, and she wondered how she could ever have thought of going away with him. She must have been mad.
Nearby, a haunch of venison was roasting over a large fire. The smell of the meat mingled with wood smoke, and a tantalising aroma drifted into the late afternoon air. Her stomach growled in response, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. However, roast meat was too much to hope for. Nor did she intend to ask for any, no matter how hungry she felt. That would only make his enjoyment complete.
As the pile of folded shirts grew, her mind went back a little further to the scene just before their conversation. She had just finished dressing when he arrived... Her hands paused in their task as another possibility suggested itself. How long had he been standing there before she became aware of his presence? Had he seen her dressing? Had he seen her undressed? The thought brought a flush of warmth to her face. Leif had given nothing away, but the implication was disquieting all the same.
She finished the task and, having gathered up the clean laundry, took it indoors and laid it on the bed. It could be returned to the rightful owners later. Then she turned her attention to the fire and added more wood. The sun was going down and evening coming on. Soon enough she would be shut in the lion’s cage again, a prospect that was doubly unwelcome now.
* * *
It was dusk before Leif returned. Astrid was sitting by the hearth staring into the flames. She glanced up briefly as he entered, then turned back to the fire again. For a little while the only sound was of crackling logs. His gaze moved beyond her to the pile of linen on the bed.
‘What in Hel’s name is that doing there?’
‘You gave no instruction for what I was to do with it after it was washed, my lord.’
‘It should be returned to its owners, of course.’
‘I do not know who they are, my lord, and I should hate to get it wrong. If one of your men were to lack his shirt I might be accused of stealing.’
He frowned. ‘Take care, slave, lest you test my patience too far.’
She looked away again but made no reply. The silence grew around them. Leif crossed to the bed.
‘Come here.’ As she joined him he jerked his head towards the pile of linen. ‘Pick it up.’
Wordlessly she obeyed.
‘Now you will take it to the big house.’
Astrid’s chin came up but still she made no reply and headed for the door. Leif followed after, his baleful gaze burning into her back.
As they approached the men broke off their conversation to watch. Uncomfortably aware of their attention, Astrid hugged her burden closer and kept walking. When they reached the hov she paused just inside the door. The silence followed them and the group of men nearby looked on with interest. Leif nodded towards a nearby bench.
‘Put the shirts down there.’
She deposited the bundle carefully and then straightened, waiting. He surveyed her in silence for a moment then nodded.
‘Now go back to my quarters and stay there.’
‘I’ll wager he won’t be long,’ said a voice nearby.
A second wag piped up. ‘She can warm my bed any time.’
As the men chuckled Astrid’s cheeks bloomed rosy pink. Leif smiled faintly and then glanced over his shoulder.
‘The only bed she’ll be warming is mine, Harek.’
A burst of laughter greeted this. Astrid glared at Leif and muttered, ‘That’ll be the day.’
He took hold of her arm and led her from the room. As the conversation resumed behind them he paused, pulling her round to face him.
‘Do you imagine that because I haven’t bedded you yet it means I’m not going to?’ His gaze locked with hers. ‘The original arrangement still stands.’
The colour deepened in her face. ‘How I loathe you.’
‘That will add a certain spice to the relationship.’
‘Ah, yes, I’m sure you’re already visualising the fun you’ll have before you send me back.’
‘I’ve been visualising that for quite a while,’ he replied. ‘As to the rest, perhaps I won’t send you back after all. Perhaps I’ll keep you for myself.’
Astrid stared at him, speechless. However, her expression was more eloquent. His eyes glinted.
‘You don’t seem very pleased.’
‘Did you expect me to be?’
‘Perhaps not.’ He paused. ‘I, on the other hand, find it most pleasing.’
‘You would.’
He surveyed her appreciatively. ‘In any event it will not be dull.’
Astrid thought that was quite certain, though she vouchsafed no reply. His words had left her mind in turmoil. Did he really mean what he said or was he just play
ing with her? Either way the ramifications were dire.
He released his hold on her arm. ‘You may go. I’ll bring you some food presently.’
She blinked, taken aback for the second time in as many minutes. Leif was confoundedly good at keeping her guessing. However, on this occasion she wasn’t about to argue. It was a relief to be gone, and she was famished to boot.
* * *
Leif drew a deep breath to steady himself. How was it that she always managed to provoke him so successfully? Why was it that, every time they argued, he heard himself saying things he’d never intended to say? Astrid was courageous and quite prepared to use the same weapons as he: her wit and her tongue could be deadly, but her rebelliousness pleased him more than submission could ever have done. The truth was that, no matter what he pretended, he’d never been able to see her as a slave. He found himself looking forward to these encounters because he knew they would be stimulating for all sorts of reasons. Unfortunately they also had unintended consequences. He ought not to have implied that he would bed her without her consent. Knowing what he did, that had been a truly outrageous lie, just part of the escalating banter. Yet he did want her. He had always wanted her. That part of it had never changed. If anything, his desire for her had increased, all of which made it much harder to keep the upper hand.
* * *
The venison was delicious and he’d provided a decent portion, along with a piece of bread and a bowl of root vegetables cooked with wild garlic. Astrid ate it all and wiped the platter clean. After the earlier argument she had wondered if he would punish her by withholding the meal. She was in no doubt that her uncle would have, and Hakke too. Just why the comparison had popped into her head was impossible to say, but it was a pointed contrast. Leif’s power over her was total but thus far he had exercised the kind of restraint that was foreign to them. Thus far. Was this also about keeping her guessing? He never did anything without a reason.
She wondered how it might have been between them if events had fallen out as they had planned. They would have made good their escape and he would have taken her to his bed. She would have been afraid but would not have reneged on the agreement. The Leif she had known then would likely have been gentle, even patient, and perhaps she could have grown accustomed to intimacy with him. Now his possession of her would be an act of revenge; by the sound of things a protracted revenge.
Defiant in the Viking's Bed Page 11
