Goldhill's Treasure

by Jilly Bowling

  Sophie swallowed, Jorvik, wasn’t that York? She was going to end up miles away from what she hoped was the way home. She may be stuck in the ninth century forever.

  Chapter 16

  When she woke up the next morning she still hadn’t been able to think of a way not to go north with Eirik. Her period had finished and she was looking forward to having a proper wash, but her clothes were decidedly grubby and she wasn’t pleased at the thought of having to put them back on once she was clean. As she sorted through the few items of clothing she had, Eirik was watching her.

  “You seem displeased this morning, is something worrying you?” he asked.

  “My tunic and trousers are still damp from washing and my dresses are dirty.”

  “Ah, a woman’s problem. Nothing to wear.”

  Sophie looked round at him to find him laughing at her “You are fussy about having clean things to wear, but if I am it’s a woman’s problem,” she snapped.

  “Watch your tongue slave” he growled.

  Exasperated she let out a large sigh and turned her back on him, only to let out a squeal as she found herself picked up and taken back to the furs. Dropping her onto them he knelt over her and growled “You haven’t learned your lesson slave!” Then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her until her insides melted and she was kissing him back.

  “That’s better” he grinned, “now are you free of your monthly flow or do I need to show you what your mouth is for?”

  “I’m free of it, my master, and I already know what my mouth is for.”

  “Good, then I’ll hump you now and later you can show me what you know.”

  Wrapping his good arm around her he turned onto his back pulling her on top of him. He was so large that with her face level with his her feet only reached to his knees and her sex was pressed against his upper belly. His iron hard shaft nestled between her sex, throbbing with the beat of his heart.

  He kissed her again, his tongue commanding her mouth and spearing her as his shaft mimicked his tongue’s movement. When he was satisfied that she was wet with need he urged her to kneel and position herself so he could enter her. Fisting his aching erection he seated himself at her entrance as her body trembled against him, sliding into her inch by inch he groaned with the need to drive hard and take her by force, but he controlled himself and allowed her to take him in as she wanted. His good hand reached out and caressed her breast and he watched her face as her lips parted and she panted slightly. Rolling his thumb across her nipple he thrilled at the way she responded to him, never had he had a woman he wanted to pleasure as he did her.

  When finally he was seated deep within her he growled “Open your eyes and look at me, see the pleasure you give me as you ride me.”

  Sophie’s eyes sprang open and she looked at him, noticing how his eyes gleamed like ice blue diamonds, the desire for her blatant and demanding. He was gazing at the point where they were joined, his large shaft disappearing into her soft curls and velvet lips, and despite the blush that rose over her whole body she started to move, instinctively knowing how to give him pleasure. Calum had always had to be in charge and on the rare occasions she had straddled him, it had been in the dark and with him moving not her.

  Experimenting she ground her clit against him and he groaned again, his body wanting to take over but he controlled himself and allowed her to play, to discover how she could move and tease him. Her lips were parted and as her tongue moistened them he thought he was going to burst. Then she felt her orgasm starting deep inside and she moved more firmly doing the dance as old as time. Finally he could control himself no more and he moved with her, his shaft spearing her to her core. As she screamed he sat up, wrapped his arm around her to keep her tight in place and drove into her harder and harder. Her screams turned into a breathless gasp as his lips found hers and as her orgasm took control of her body he kissed her deeply drawing in the essence of her. Orgasm after orgasm rolled through her and he allowed himself to spend his seed deep within her, shouting his triumph as he did so. Sophie collapsed onto his chest and he held her close as he lay back onto the furs, both their hearts hammering and gasping for air. Eirik marvelled at how this strange woman, from the gods knew where, made him feel. It came to him that he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her and that he’d want her as long as he lived.

  Sophie too was coming to terms with how much this barbarian meant to her and that the thought of leaving him was like a dagger in her heart. She loved him and always would. Fate had dealt her a hard choice, life as she had always known it or an all forgiving love. Eirik moved and turned them onto his right shoulder, his large shaft still inside her, and she squirmed to get comfortable.

  “Do that again” he growled, “ and we’ll be missing our turn at the wash house.”

  “I have looked after you too well, you’ve too much energy for a man who was badly wounded a few days ago.”

  “True, but my wound only hurts when I flex my shoulder muscle and that isn’t the part of me you’re causing to flex now,” he grinned.

  She flapped her hand at him “We must move, we both need a good wash or we’ll end up smelling like the Saxons.”

  “Thor’s beard! A fate worse than death,” he said as he withdrew from her, “get up and dress and hand me my breeches.”

  Doing as she was told she pulled on her old short dress she wore around the house and finding his tunic and breeches she asked “What clean clothes do you want?”

  “There are new things in my trunk,” he said offhandedly.

  Going to his trunk and opening the lid she lifted out a new pile of clothes. To her surprise the tunic was blue and neatly embroidered with a gold coloured thread, and the trousers were the softest leather she’d ever felt. Holding them up she realised that they were too small for Eirik and she turned back to him with surprise on her face.

  “Do you like them?” he asked.

  “They’re for me?”

  “Yes, I knew that your clothes got spoilt when you doctored me, so I ordered those for you.”

  “They’re beautiful, thank you.”

  “Is that all the thanks I get for spending my hard earned gilt on you?” he growled.

  Running to him she kissed him, gasping as he pulled her to him. “You are not only my bed slave but also an important healer. You must dress as befits your position and mine. There is also a dress and overdress in there for you, for more formal occasions, and a new tunic and breeches for me. My heavy leather tunic is being repaired, but there is a lighter one in there for everyday use.”

  As she put hers and Eirik’s clothing into a bundle along with the washing things she was happy for the first time since she’d fallen through time and realised that she was making a place for herself in her new world. She decided that she’d take one day at a time and not worry about the future, she’d do what the Danes did and let the three Norns at the foot of Yggdrasil decide her fate.

  The wash house was, as usual, hot and steamy and this time they washed each other, delighting in the touch of each others hands on their bodies. They used all the buckets of water until their bodies glowed and she showed him that she knew what to do with her mouth revelling in the way he reacted to her touch and how much he desired her. They were in the wash house so long that when they left there was a queue of impatient warriors waiting their turn and there was a lot of banter and jibes as they walked past them. But they all knew Eirik’s rank and reputation so there was no real anger towards them. By the time they’d passed them Sophie was bright red and he couldn’t stop laughing at her. He teased her all the way home and she finally relaxed and cooled down. In this world sex was natural as breathing and there was no right or wrong way to behave.

  As they ate their porridge Sophie brought up the subject of Ceolwen’s kiln saying that although she wanted to get it made she didn’t relish the idea of
getting dirty again.

  “No I’d rather you didn’t ruin more clothes,” Eirik said “ but you can have a couple of Saxons to do the dirty work. I’ll organise them and you can tell them what to do.”

  “That would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

  “After all what you and Ceolwen make belongs to me.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. I know you let Ceolwen keep half of what she earns, would you do that with me?”

  Eirik frowned “Ceolwen is saving to pay me her auction price. When she does I’ve offered to free her and her son. That will never happen with you, you are mine forever.”

  Sophie looked into his frowning eyes “I know that master, it’s just that it would be nice to have my own money. I could buy you something occasionally instead of you spending your hard earned gilt.”

  Eirik’s frown turned to a grin “Come here.”

  She stood in front of him and he put his arms around her pressing his face between her breasts. “Sophie, Sophie, you never cease to surprise me” he sighed “You want to work to buy things for me, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Where I come from men and women buy each other things to show how much they care for each other.”

  “You care for me?”

  “Don’t you know I do? I know I should hate you but I can’t.”

  “I have noticed how your body enjoys mine, does this mean that your mind is enjoying it too?”

  “It does. If that means that I’m a weakling” she shrugged “then so be it.”

  They stayed pressed together for a while then Eirik straightened “My stitches are itching, will you see if you can get rid of them?”

  “Of course.”

  As he took off his tunic she got a small sharp knife and took it to the brazier to sterilise it. Once it was red hot she lay it on a clean part of the table and collected clean linen rags and the antiseptic lotion the Danes used. The wound was pink and healthy looking and she could see it was healing together well. The stitches were tight to the skin and were pulling at the flesh. She wiped over the skin with the lotion then when the knife was cool enough she held each knot between finger and thumb and cut the stitch. They came out reasonably well apart from two or three which she had really to pull, a little clear pus came with them and she made sure to really clean them well with the lotion. The wound had knitted together amazingly well in such a short time, a testament to Eirik’s robust health. As soon as the last stitch was out Eirik gently flexed his shoulder, smiling at not having any pain other than a throbbing ache.

  “Gentle exercise for a few days then you can do whatever you want. “ Sophie said surprised at how well the stitched wound looked.

  “It is a wonder. Usually with a wound such as that I would be recovering from a weakening fever. If it had been burned it would be painful and stiff for weeks.”

  “I’m pleased that what I know was useful.” Sophie thanked god as she thought how badly wrong she could have got it.

  “Let’s hope the others heal as well.”

  “Yes, but you know Rolf’s arm muscles may always be weaker than the other arm.”

  “Perhaps but he is alive and still has the arm.” As he put his tunic back on he pulled her into his arms and said “Now we will get this kiln built and you can make us some money while I am training or on patrol.”

  “You mean you’ll allow me to make pots and sell them?”

  “Yes, why not? Ceolwen makes plenty of money for me so why not you.”

  ***

  While Sophie went off to Ceolwen’s Eirik went to find two male slaves who could help her build her kiln. As they separated, Geri stood looking from one to the other undecided who to go with. Eirik ordered him to go with Sophie and he trotted after her happily.

  Caena was in the garden clearing an area near the pigstys and when he saw them he smiled, waved, then ran over, greeting Geri with a pat on the head and then, as the dog squirmed around him licking his face, a cuddle.

  “Can I throw a stick for him?” he asked.

  “I don’t know if he’s been trained to fetch sticks but you can try. Only in the garden though. Don’t take him near the sheep or cattle.” Sophie warned him.

  “I won’t.” Caena said as he urged the dog to go with him. Of course Geri looked at Sophie to see if that was alright and she indicated that he should go with the boy.

  Ceolwen had heard Caena’s excited voice and came out of the shack to see who was there. “Oh, it’s you. I wondered if you’d manage to get away.”

  “Eirik’s given me permission to make and sell pots. He’s actually bringing two men to help make a kiln. I’m under orders not to get dirty again.” Sophie said smiling.

  “I’m not surprised. We got filthy yesterday, my dress is still soaking, that clay stains badly. I see you have smart new clothes, Eirik must think highly of you.”

  Sophie felt embarrassed at having new clothes when Ceolwen was wearing a worn and darned old dress so she didn’t say anything for a moment, then she said “Where do you want the kiln to be built?”

  “Caena was clearing some ground over by the pig stys, but I see he’s busy playing with that dog.”

  “Yes, I saw what he was doing, it’s an ideal place to put it.”

  They walked over to look at the cleared ground. It was a perfect spot, not too near to anything that might catch fire, and flat. For his size Caena had made a good job of clearing the ground and Sophie said so.

  “Yes he’s a good boy,” Ceolwen said, “perhaps if I can buy our freedom he’ll have a chance of a good life.”

  “I’m sure he will” Sophie said, deciding that she’d do what she could to help Ceolwen buy her freedom. She knew better than to try to persuade Eirik to just free them, slavery was so normal in the Dane’s world that he’d never understand the concept of it being wrong. If you lost a battle and allowed yourself to become enslaved then that was the way it was. A decent master would allow you to buy your freedom but very rarely would they just free someone. Although the Danes were fierce fighters they mostly prefered to trade and farm, not something Sophie had known until now.

  As they were looking at the cleared ground Eirik arrived with two Saxon men and Leif.

  “I’ve got these two for the rest of the day,” Eirik said, “and Leif was at a loose end so he came to watch.”

  “The Saxons were a sorry looking pair, their skin ingrained with dirt and their hair greasy rat’s tails. They nodded at Ceolwen and looked askance at Sophie, taking in her smart tunic, warm trousers and boots. She ignored their sneers and told Eirik what needed to be done, describing how the two pits should be joined and drawing an outline of them in the compacted soil. He quickly understood the idea and set the slaves to work then he asked “Do I understand that you’ll need stones for the sides of the kiln?”

  “Yes that would be ideal, we could manage one or two firings with turf clods but a stone kiln would last for some years,” Sophie told him, “do you know where we can get some stones?”

  “There are many abandoned buildings around, many built of stone by the Saxons, we’ll use them.”

  Leaving one slave digging the pits Eirik and Leif went off with the other to get a cart and the stones they needed. By the time the pits were dug to Sophie’s satisfaction they were back with a handcart on which were piled enough stones to build a two story kiln. It didn’t take long to make an igloo shaped oven with a small hole in the top, a middle shelf and a flattened earth floor. The edge of the fire pit was lined with the stone as was the tunnel leading from it to the oven. Any gaps were filled in with the coarse clay that Sophie and Ceolwen hadn’t worked smooth the day before and the hole in the top would be sealed with either the coarse clay or a turf sod at each firing.

  Eirik gave the two Saxons a jug of ale and a round of cheese before sending them bac
k to their master and they left looking happier than they had when they arrived.

  “What did you do that for? They’re slaves, we don’t pay them for their work.” Leif said as he lounged on a log with a tankard of ale in his hand.

  “Yes they’re slaves, but they worked well this afternoon. They didn’t slack and did a good job. I have a reputation as a fair master and mean to keep it. I don’t want to have to sleep with one eye open.”

  “Hmm, this close to the border with Wales we should all sleep with one eye open!” Leif said dryly.

  Eirik nodded “The Myrce are becoming more troublesome when we leave Weorgoranceastre, but I don’t think they have the number to strike here.”

  “Not yet, but they didn’t have a good harvest this year and men get desperate when hunger stalks their families.”

  “True, Ubbe has given me leave to visit my farm, when my arm is healed, but he may change his mind if any more of our patrols are attacked.” Eirik frowned.

  Sophie however felt a slither of hope, she just didn’t want to go to Jorvik. Eirik’s Danish wife was there, his farm had started from the small acreage that had been her dowry. Even if his wife didn’t love him she wouldn’t be happy to share him with Sophie. At the thought of him with another woman her heart ached, even though that woman had more right to him than she did.

  “Sophie” Eirik growled.

  Realising that he had asked her a question while she’d been far away in her head, she gave a start and said “Yes master?”

  “I asked if you were satisfied with what has been made.” Eirik said angrily.

  “I’m sorry, I was miles away” she answered, “and yes what you’ve done is perfect, thank you.”