by Jianne Carlo
Nyssa and Grelod exchanged a surreptitious glance.
“You knew of Gudrun’s betrayal?” Nyssa moved to her husband’s side.
He captured her hands in both of his. “Aye. Dermid and his men informed us of their suspicions last eve.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Had he not trusted her with the news?
“We were not cert and I did not want to upset your slumber more than it already was.”
Nyssa repressed a sigh. She had tried to hide her sleeplessness from Konáll, but apparently he was well aware she tossed and turned most of the last three nights.
“Forsooth, Ánáton, Maura, and Monette are rumored to be journeying to Miklagard.” Dráddør unpinned the brooch holding his cloak in place. “We have sent troops ahead of us to that city.”
Nyssa froze. Her mind churned. Why would her uncle, aunt, and cousin be heading to the great Eastern city? She had learned of Miklagard while at Circe Fearn Abbey. ’Twas a place of greatness, both good and evil.
Konáll tugged off his gloves, and he glanced at Nyssa. “We heard tale of a Saracen trader plowing the coast who took Ánáton, Maura, Monette and the rest of their contingent on as passengers. I would have you describe the ship and man who tried to take you when you journeyed to the sirens.”
Nyssa folded her hands and closed her eyes. “’Twas a ship with a strange shape. It sat heavy and low in the water.”
“And the Saracen trader?” Konáll drifted close to her, his gaze so intense she shivered.
“He had a scarred face and wore a ring on each finger, e’en his thumbs.”
Konáll’s nostrils flared. Nyssa studied her husband. Husband for only a few more hours. She would have this night with him. “His men called him Wazir Niketas.”
“Niketas. By Odin.” Konáll slammed one fist into the other.
Dráddør and Thōrfin both uttered foul oaths.
Nyssa and Grelod exchanged puzzled glances.
“You know of this man?” Nyssa stared at Konáll surprised by the fury writ on his face.
“Aye, he tried to kidnap Hjørdis and Skatha.” Konáll’s snarl bared his white teeth.
“He nigh murdered our brother, Brökk.” Dráddør stretched his ungloved hands to the fire. “’Twould seem there is some nefarious plot afoot.”
The men, women, and children milling about the hall seemed to shrink into the tables. A silence laced with dread filled the large chamber.
Nyssa held her breath. She gazed at each man in turn searching for answers. Another remarkable coincidence? She and Konáll’s beloved sister and his brother’s wife had been kidnapped by the same villain? Nay. ’Twas too much to believe.
“Aye. I cannot believe Niketas is here by some remarkable coincidence. Thōrfin, I know you plan to leave on the evening tide on the morrow, but I would ask you to delay the trip one more day. I would have us all combine our efforts and drive Niketas to the ground. Nyssa, you are not to leave the castle until we have him captive.”
Thōrfin curled an arm around Grelod’s waist. “Agreed. I like not this news. The women and the keep will not be safe until this trader is in your dungeons.”
“Mayhap ’twould be a good notion to have one of us remain with the women on the morrow.” Dráddør rocked on his heels. “I will stay behind.”
“Nay. We will need all our ships to circumnavigate the entire isle. Pálli and Bryce will stay with the women.” Konáll dragged a hand through his hair. “Nyssa, will you arrange for a tray of food in our chamber? I am wont to wash the stench of the day from my flesh. I will join you there anon.”
Nyssa hurried to make the arrangements.
She placed an order with the kitchens, dashed to their tower, heated water in a cauldron, and washed hastily. She had unpacked Konáll’s chest earlier and discovered a velvet sack, a carved penis, and the clay pot with the spicy aphrodisiac oil. Grelod had walked in on her staring at the streaks of blood on the ivory.
They had spoken, and Nyssa had explained the curse. To her surprise, Grelod knew of all three items and how they were used. The two women had spent much time discussing harems, dildos, and the ways to ease a virgin’s pain and increase a woman’s pleasure.
She dabbed the oil behind her ears, o’er the serpent and ’along her folds. Where’er she smudged the thick liquid her flesh tingled and heated. This eve she wanted to taste her husband, to feel him, to explore the ring and its mysteries. ’Twas to be a night to last a lifetime for she would ne’er know the sweet intimacy ’tween man and woman again.
Dermid had arranged passage for her on the ferry to the mainland. She had written to Lady Gráinne and sent enough coin to ensure a long stay at Circe Fearn Abbey. Her one regret would be not saying her goodbyes to Ciárrán. But the decision to leave had banished the turmoil of the last few days. Her people would be safe, the castle in the best of hands, and Konáll would find a new wife who could bear him a gaggle of sons and daughters.
She bit her lips to still the threatening tears. ’Twas no time for such a womanly weakness. This night she would be the siren for Konáll.
A quick scan of the room dispelled her nerves somewhat. She had lit a dozen tallow candles and all the oil lamps on the walls burned brightly. Two jugs stood on a low table, one filled with wine, the other water. The hot food she would fetch later, but she had prepared a tray with a fat loaf, a round of cheese, and a couple of pears.
Nyssa extracted her new chemise from the chest. ’Twas of a transparent fabric and along the neckline Grelod’s ladies had embroidered a series of miniatures of Dauði Dkellr, Konáll’s famous axe, e’en down to the three rubies in the hilt. She traced the fine work and decided to take the night rail with her on the morrow. Nyssa donned the garment and tucked a shawl around her shoulders. She hoped to surprise and delight her husband with the erotic garment.
The door opened, and Konáll entered bringing with him the smell of the sea and soap. His hair hung in wet waves to his shoulders. She drank him in, admiring the wide swath of his shoulders, but the grim set of his mouth took her aback. “Is aught amiss, husband?”
His mouth curved. “Nay, wife. All is well now that we are alone and I can hold you in my arms.”
She went to him on winged feet and closed her eyes to savor the heat of his chest, the solidness of him. Nyssa could scarce wrap her arms around his back, but she relished the feel of him in her embrace. “I missed you this day.”
He tangled his fingers in her hair. “I wouldst hope you miss me every day, mìlseachd. As I do you.”
Tilting her head back, she smiled, and met his direct stare. “We have almost set the castle back to rights. I must admit to being very grateful for Grelod’s advice and assistance.”
“I am happy you two are fast becoming friends.”
She smoothed his damp tunic and blurted, “I sorted through Ánáton’s chamber today and found my Da’s signet ring hidden in his trunk.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “I am sorry to hear that, mit hiärta.”
She cleared her throat and fought the misting of her vision. “’Tis better to know for once and all. They are gone. My Da would ne’er take off the ring of his title, not while he still drew breath.”
“Your uncle most cert took your Da and Mama’s life.” He framed her face and his look of concern had her heart turning o’er in her chest.
Nodding and working around the lump in her throat, she croaked, “I wish I had a grave site to visit, but ’tis not to be.”
“Mayhap we can erect a headstone near one of your parents’ favorite spots on the estate?”
“My thanks, husband. But ’tis not necessary.” She took a deep breath. ’Twas not the time to be bereft, she had planned a night of pleasure not sorrow. “I have made peace with the all of it and am grateful for our small mercies.”
He fingered her ear, the caress so delicious she nigh purred.
“This day, I used the coin from the sirens to replenish our food stores. I also unpacked your chests today.”
She held her wrist to his nose. “Smell. ’Tis the aphrodisiac oil.”
A shadow crossed his face. He glanced at the open trunks on the far side of the chamber. “You opened the velvet sack?”
“Aye. Grelod found me puzzling o’er the dildo, and she explained it all to me.” Warmth gushed up from her toes to her scalp, and she knew from the heat chasing her cheeks that she had turned pink.
He drew back. “I am afraid to ask what else the two of you discussed.”
“She thinks you clever indeed to figure out how to break the curse without having your pecker green and wither.” Nyssa grinned at him. “And I agreed with her.”
“Are you cert, Nyssa? ’Twas not the way I wanted to take your maidenhood and it fair broke my heart when you sobbed yourself to sleep in my arms after.” He feathered kisses along the line of her jaw.
“I recall little of that night and would prefer to forget the all of it and remember our wedding night and morn. I would ask a boon of you this eve, Konáll.”
He lifted a brow. “Ask and I will grant your every wish.”
“I should like to taste you this eve.”
His hold on her tightened and his blue eyes darkened. “You will have me spilling my seed with such hot talk.”
“Do you recall when you told me to hold the tent pole and not release it until so instructed?”
A muscle under his eye twitched. “Aye.”
“I would have you like that now, husband.”
He scanned the room. “We have no tent pole, wife.”
“Aye, but we have a bed with four posts.” She jiggled her brows and tugged him to the mattress. She pressed him to the bed and grinned when the straw hissed under his weight. Nyssa untied the shawl and let the fabric fall to the floor.
He stared at her and ran his tongue o’er his lips.
“’Tis an enticing chemise.” He fingered the neckline of the soft material and ran his thumb over a nipple.
She grasped his hand and shook her head. “Nay. ’Tis my turn to lead. Hold up your arms, husband.”
“Your wish is my command.” He raised his hands.
It took considerable effort, but she finally managed to tug off his tight fitting tunic and bare his chest. Nyssa eyed his sculpted muscles and ran her hand along the ridges of his breastbone.
He sucked in a breath.
“Lie down.” She touched a fingertip to one nipple.
He flopped back onto the mattress.
“Why have you no scars?” She worked on the rope tying his hose together.
“The caliph who captured me had in his harem an enchantress. She had a notion to have my son. She tried to arouse me, but my cock refused to rise, and she persuaded him that he could control me through the ring.”
Her eyes widened with each word he uttered. ’Twas a tale beyond belief. “How so?”
“She added weights to the ring. The pressure caused my arousal and the bitch mounted me night after night.”
“You did not want to mount her?” She wanted to howl with the unfairness of it all.
“Nay. Though I willed my cock flaccid, the moment they added the weights to the ring, my shaft engorged. ’Tis torture to have your body do one thing when your mind wants the opposite. The weights put me on the edge, and I could do naught but swive her and spill my seed in her sheath. There was another enchantress in the harem who hated the other, and she tried to help me with a spell, but it went awry.”
Nyssa could scarce believe her ears. “How so?”
“The spell worked but not in the manner she had anticipated. My seed held no potency for which I was grateful beyond relief. But since that time I no longer scar.” He captured her hand and ran her fingers around the base of his skull. “See, e’en the blow from the beach where you first found me is gone.”
“So it is.” She sat back on her heels. “’Twould seem you are doomed to have enchantresses fighting o’er you, husband.”
“You are the only woman I want casting spells o’er me, wife.” He outlined her mouth with his thumb.
Nyssa’s breath caught in her throat, and she had to bite her tongue to stop the onslaught of tears. She took a deep breath and pasted a bright smile on her face. “Agreed, husband. I will be your only witch.”
“Witch, enchantress, wife, you are mine in all forms. Albeit I seem to remember a promise of ravishment?” He winked at her.
She grinned and worked the hose down his hips. He cooperated by lifting off the straw and his cock sprang free and jutted to the ceiling. She couldn’t take her eyes off the beauty of his erection and grasped the base with one hand.
“’Tis hard and hot and fair throbs in my hold. And I have wanted to discover the texture of this since the cave.” She rubbed a finger o’er the slit in the crown and slicked the moisture there onto the tip. “Why ’tis like honey. Thick and viscous.”
She sniffed. “And smells like a cockle or an oyster.”
He groaned. “You will drive me to the brink, Nyssa. Taste the demmed drop.”
She sucked entire length of her finger. “And it much tastes like an oyster.”
“I am not cert I like my seed being compared to a mollusk.” He clutched her wrist and drew her hand to his crown. “Touch me.”
Nyssa curled her fingers around the satiny head and trailed the underside. “’Tis smooth and fiery, yet rough and twitches as if possessed.”
“’Twould be Valhalla if you spoke less and tasted more,” he growled.
She leaned over and sucked him into her mouth.
He moaned and rolled from side to side.
Nyssa glimpsed his death grip on the sheets and smiled around the crown of his erection. She liked the feel of his foreskin sliding up and down the slick length of him. Nyssa released her suction and sat back on her haunches. Drops leaked from the opening on the top of his cock. Her mouth watered. She slurped up every bit of moisture and smacked her lips.
“’Tis incredible husband. So carnal that my puss is drenched and my breasts are heavier than anchors.”
Nyssa scooted down to her elbows, hefted his testicles in her hands and weighed the hard balls ’tween her palms. She nudged his thighs farther apart and went eye-to-eye with the steel ring. She tugged on the metal.
He yanked his hips off the mattress.
She firmed her hold on the ring.
His cock thickened e’en more.
Nyssa could scarce draw breath. Her chest burned, her sex spasmed, and she yearned to have him fill her.
“I cannot wait any longer, mit hiärta.” He hauled her up to him and rolled o’er.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed her eyes shut when he drove into her. Naught sent her o’er the edge like that first plunge, the way his pecker stretched her sheath, and the pressure of his thickness caused her inner walls to contract and release in quick fits and starts.
He adjusted his hold, set her legs o’er his shoulders, and impaled her with his cock. Nyssa forced her eyes open wanting to memorize his face when he found his pleasure. He looked like her image of a berserker, lips snarled, eyes half-hooded, and features contorted.
She clutched his shoulders, her nails dug into his flesh, and he pounded into her spasming sheath. Nyssa hugged him close and savored his violent, jerky shudders when he spilled his seed.
* * *
After he had cleansed them both, Konáll gathered Nyssa to him, and lifted her leg over his groin. She laid her cheek to his heart, her pert nipples scraping his chest hair on each ragged inhale. If it weren’t for the specter of Wazir Niketas surfing the coast of his new kingdom, he would be completely content.
“Konáll?” She traced the brown circle fronting his nipple.
“Nyssa?” He stroked her spine and cupped a hand around her bottom cheek. “Is aught amiss?”
“Nay. I but wish to know. Did the enchantress bear you a son?”
He wondered at the sudden hitch in her breathing. “Nay. To my relief, I have fathered no sons. Yet. I am cert we will h
ave many children. Though I must admit I hope to Odin none of our daughters will inherit your wicked birthmark. I cannot bear the notion of a warrior such as me lusting after the serpent and becoming hard and aching with a mere glimpse of the mark.”
She brushed her lips to his rib. “Are you ready for bread and cheese and mayhap a goblet of wine? I will run to the kitchens in a bit to get the hot tray.”
“Nay. I am in no rush and well content to hold you a wee bit longer. Nyssa, I have asked Dráddør to return to my brother’s holding once we have set all these mysteries to rest. I am concerned for my sister’s safety. Mús has disappeared and I know naught of the state of the coming war ’tween Vanir and Æsir. I would have both Hjørdis and you, safe, Nyssa.”
“’Tis a wise decision. I am fraught with worry about Mús. ’Tis not like him to vanish with ne’er a word.” She pushed onto her forearms and met his gaze. “I fear he has gone for good and I will ne’er set sights on him again.”
He smoothed the worry lines on her forehead, but could not tell her of Mús’s craving for mortal blood. He, too, believed Mús had taken a decision to erase himself from Nyssa’s life.
“Nyssa, will you give me your word, you will not tempt fate on the morrow? I need you safe here in the castle.” He cradled her chin in his palm and noticed when her gaze flickered to the side afore meeting his.
“I will not take chances on the morrow, Konáll. I vow, I am famished.” She stretched her arms above her head and sent him a sultry lopsided smile.
He hugged her closer. “Stay. I will see to the platter from the kitchen.”
“Nay husband. ’Tis my night to be in charge and to provide for you.” She hopped off the straw and reached for her discarded gown.
Konáll admired her slender waist afore the cyrtel hid her sweet curves. He enjoyed her easy grace when she swayed to the door, paused, and blew him a kiss. A grin chased his mouth.
“I will be but a moment, Konáll.”
He sighed when she vanished from view. Balanced his head on his hands and considered the chamber’s ceiling. On the morrow, he would hunt down Niketas and cut the man’s heart out of his chest. Then and only then could he be cert his wife was safe.
