“Have you finished sparring, Aesir?” he asked Astrid.
“Yes, we are done for the day Eirik. Do you want to steal my shield maiden away?”
“I would ask a word with her if her commander has no objections.”
“A word? I see. Then make sure that word is not too exhausting.” Astrid said, raising her eyebrows at him.
Eirik held out his hand to Sophie who took it gladly and led her out of the city towards the village.
“I have moved out of the city back to my old house, away from Ivar’s gaze,” he said.
“You’ve stayed away from me for a long time. I thought you didn’t want me anymore now I’m not your slave.”
Eirik frowned “I have been away chastising the Myrce and Astrid told me to leave you alone to get used to your new life.”
By this time they’d reached his house where Geri, on seeing Sophie bounded out to greet her enthusiastically. After patting him and giving him a hard hug, she looked up to see Eirik looking at he quizzically.
“The dog gets a better greeting than me,” he complained.
“The dog didn’t beat me with a belt then abandon me for weeks!”
Eirik pulled her into his arms, hugging her to him “You cannot hate me more than I hate myself for what happened that night.”
Laying her cheek against his hard chest Sophie said “I don’t hate you. I know you did what you did to save my life, since then I’ve seen re-captured slaves flayed almost to death and know that if you hadn’t had the strength to punish me yourself, I would probably have been dead or crippled. I panicked and killed Hilde when I should have just knocked her out. I know better now and can fight coolly and calmly.”
Lowering his head Eirik kissed her then still holding her mouth captive he kicked open the door and carried her inside to the furs. Slowly as he kissed and licked his way over her entire body he undressed her, revelling in the new hardness of the muscles in her arms and legs, as he admired the soft roundness of her breasts and belly. He kissed each scar on her throat and the bruises that dotted her creamy skin as he set about driving her wild with want.
Sophie, the feelings passing through her making her forget her aches and pains, pulled at his tunic and breeches, trying to lay her hands on his hard muscular body and thick throbbing shaft. They both felt as if it had been years since they last made love, not just weeks, and were as desperate as each other. Finally Eirik’s clothes were gone and her hands roamed over his firm chest, causing him to gasp as she tweaked a nipple, then down over his flat stomach following the narrow line of hair down to the root of his rampant shaft, which was throbbing with the heavy beat of his heart. Before she could take him in her hand his fingers parted her curls and slid inside her, causing her to arch her back and beg “Please Eirik, I need you inside me.”
Removing his fingers he positioned himself over her and guided his shaft to her soaking wet cleft. Rubbing his velvet soft head over her nub he caught her as she arched against him opening herself wider. A he sank into her creamy depths he groaned with pleasure and with one strong thrust buried himself to her core his heavy sacks hitting her bottom and causing her to scream his name.
As he rode her to an almost painful orgasm he reclaimed her mouth and his tongue mirrored his thrusts. Pulse after pulse surged through her body and he couldn’t resist her as she milked him dry. Collapsing to his side he held her to him and murmured endearments into her ear, telling her how it had almost killed him to hurt her, and that he’d stayed away because he dreaded to see the hurt and condemnation he thought he was bound to see in her eyes.
Sophie lay there weightless and drifting, thanking god he hadn’t been able to stay away any longer. The physical pain he’d inflicted was nothing to the pain of thinking she’d lost him for ever, and would have to live her life here in his world, never feeling his body one with her’s again.
Finally Eirik freed himself from her embrace and left the furs to pour them both a tankard of ale. Handing one to her as she leant on an elbow he ran his gaze over her body and lay down beside her.
“In only a few weeks your body has strengthened and your muscles have grown hard. Astrid must have inflicted a punishing training regime on you.”
“Yes, the first couple of weeks I didn’t think that I was going to make it. I went to bed every night praying to wake up without any pain. But slowly as I grew to understand what Astrid was trying to do for me, I embraced the training and strove to get faster and harder every day.”
“You’ve succeeded” he said stroking her cheek, “Astrid is not easy to put down and you did it without too much effort.”
“I know I can fight, but whether I’d be able to kill someone I’d disarmed and knocked to the ground is another matter.”
“In the heat of battle things are different, your blood is wild and it’s kill or be killed. You will do what you have to do.”
“Mmm,” she murmured hoping that she’d never have to find out.
Eirik’s fingers had strayed to her neck and traced the line of scars that ran right around it. “If you hadn’t killed Hilde. I would have, she has marked you for life.”
“Yes they’re awful aren’t they? I try to cover them with a piece of cloth but Astrid won’t let me when we practice.”
“Not awful, nothing about your body could look bad,” he said leaning in to kiss her neck.
“I’m self conscious about them, but I don’t suppose I’ll ever be able to hide them so...” she shrugged.
He thought for a while examining her neck, then he said “You know they run in a fairly straight line, you could have a very fine tattoo put over them.”
“A tattoo?” Then remembering Leif’s tattoos and the ones she’d seen on the shield maidens, she said “Oh yes of course, some of the shield maidens have their arms and legs tattooed. Do you think I could have one? How much would it cost? I’ve been selling lotions and things and have saved some gilt.”
“Save your gilt, I will pay as it was my sigil that marked you.”
Sophie considered and decided not to argue, he was right it was his collar that had done the damage. “Is there a tattooist in the city?” she asked.
“Yes, I’ll arrange for him to come here and let you know when.”
“I suppose I’d better go, as I think Astrid wants me to show her how well I ride this afternoon.”
“You haven’t ridden for a while, be careful.”
“Oh it’s like riding a bi--, I mean falling off a log, you never forget how.” Sophie got up flustered at her lapse into the twenty first century.
Of course he hadn’t known what she was going to say so didn’t notice and he rolled over and watched appreciatively as she walked to her clothes and started to dress.
“I’ll send you a message about the tattoo,” he said “ I don’t suppose you can get back here tonight?”
“I’ll try but I can’t promise. I haven’t been going to Ubbe’s hall for the nattmal. Astrid thought it best to keep a low profile, so I’ve been eating with the shield maidens who prefer to eat at our hall. I might be able to leave later but I don’t know.”
“Don’t get into trouble” Eirik warned her “I have a few days off from patrol, it’s Torstein’s turn, and can see you in the daytime.”
Dropping a quick kiss on his head Sophie made her escape before he decided to persuade her to return to the furs, and made her way back to the shield maidens hall, feeling relaxed and content for the first time since she killed Hilde.
***
Astrid was satisfied with the way Sophie rode and told her that as far as she was concerned Sophie was ready for her first patrol. It would be good for her to be ‘blooded’ against the Myrce before they marched on Anglia. However Eirik or Torstein would have to accept her into one of their patrols, as it was up to the Merkismathrs who they took out wit
h them.
She managed to escape from the shield maidens hall after the natmal without anyone noticing and made it to Eirik’s house in the village. He hadn’t got back from Ubbe’s hall yet so she sat by the meal fire talking to Alta who wasn’t looking forward to the march on Anglia. She appeared old and frail and Sophie was worried about a harsh cough she had developed. She decided that she’d ask Eirik to free the old slave and give her some gilt so she could live out her life in some comfort.
When Eirik finally arrived it transpired that he’d been delayed by Astrid telling him that Sophie would be one of the shield maidens he could choose to take out on patrol with him. After he’d kissed her, delighted to have her back in the privacy of their house, he asked her how she felt about going out on patrol.
“I don’t know to be honest. I killed Hilde by accident but whether I am brave enough to stand in a shield wall while the enemy hack at me, I honestly don’t know.”
Eirik looked at her pensively for a while then said “Normally the shield wall is used in a pitched battle. When we patrol we are on horseback and only come across small bands of Myrce who are no match for us and easily dispatched.”
“That’s one thing I’ve noticed, why aren’t there any Myrce slaves?”
Eirik laughed “They make bad slaves, can’t follow orders, their language is impossible and every one of them, including the women would slit your throat and die laughing.”
“Oh, they are fierce then?”
“Yes they are a worthy enemy, but we diverse, if I don’t take you on patrol then Torstein will, if only to anger me, and at least I would keep you at the rear. So, my patrols start the day after tomorrow, and it is decided, you’ll ride with me.”
Sophie’s heart was hammering in her chest at the thought of going into battle, but she simply nodded her agreement.
“There is an Arab in the city, skilled in tattooing and he has agreed to come here tomorrow. I described what was needed and he said it depends how badly the skin has been damaged and whether he could tattoo around the actual scars.”
Sophie’s hand went to her throat and she asked “Do you think it will be very painful?”
Taking her in his arms Eirik said “Tattooing is painful but remember you don’t have to have it done, it is absolutely your choice.”
“I know” she shrugged “but if he can disguise the scars on my neck it would be worth it.”
Eirik’s hands had started to undo her belt and ease her tunic up “Come, my love, I need to be inside you, what we enjoyed earlier has only wetted my appetite.”
Giving herself over to his love making, Sophie revelled in the fact that this highly thought of warrior and man couldn’t get enough of her and joined him in every kind of sexual play he desired until she could think no more and her body thrummed like a well tuned instrument.
When he finally sank into her she felt that strange frisson that she’d experienced at Goldhill and she found herself crying and clinging to him in desperation, not knowing why but unable to get enough of the feeling of being one.
He was patient with her, kissed away her tears and moved gently inside her, as if, he too needed to make their bodies, one. Silently he spoke to Vror and Veroandi to weave their threads strong and reminded them how Sophie’s tears were filling the Well of Urer which fed the tree that supported this world.
They passed the whole night lost in the deep desire each felt for the other and as the cock crowed finally fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 21
Sophie woke to find Eirik’s arms wrapped around her. Spooned into him, with his groin pressed into her bottom and his shaft nestled between her legs. She lay there savouring the warmth and feeling of comfort and protection his hard body gave her, not daring to move in case this feeling was lost forever.
For some reason she couldn’t get the story of the three Norns, who the Danes believed wove the threads of their lives, out of her head and once again she felt that ‘frisson’, a cold shiver up her spine, that she had often felt at Goldhill.
As Eirik moved against her, his hands automatically finding her breasts and his shaft thickening against her labia, she put such thoughts out of her head and allowed her body to respond to him. This morning his love making was gentle and lazy as he took her from behind and quickly had her pressing back into him to give him deeper access. Their release was easy and mutual as they delighted in their love and knowledge of each others bodies.
They washed and dressed in a comfortable silence, Sophie collected their porridge from Alta and they were just emptying their bowls when there was a knock on the door. At Eirik’s ‘Enter’, the door opened and a dark complexioned man, dressed in flowing robes walked in, followed by a young boy.
Eirik stood up and bowed “Welcome Abd Al Samad, can I offer you some ale?”
“Thank you, but no, Thegn Eirik, I do not indulge in alcohol.”
Sophie stood up and said to Eirik “Perhaps out guest would like some chamomile and honey?”
Eirik nodded and said to the Arab “I apologise, I’d forgotten that you don’t take alcohol. As Sophie says perhaps some chamomile and honey while you lay out your tools?”
“That would be most welcome, thank you.” Abd Al Samad said then turning to the boy he ordered “Lay out my needles and dyes.”
Sophie hurried out to the meal fire and made two bowls of chamomile and honey tea, one for her to help sooth her nerves at the thought of being tattooed and one for the Arab. Carrying them into the house she pulled up sharply at the sight of the long metal tools laid out on a cloth on the table. The dyes were a dirty looking midnight blue and an orangey red.
As she handed Samad the bowl he looked at her neck and asked “Do you mind if I examine you?”
“No, not at all.”
He put his bowl, and her’s, on the table and took her chin in his long fingers, turning her head this way and that and clicking his tongue at the scars marring her soft skin.
“Nasty, you were lucky to survive that. None of the tines cut into your main artery or you would be dead.”
“Do you think you can disguise the scars?” Sophie asked.
He considered then nodded his head “I could tattoo a fine chain, incorporating the scars into the middle of each link, without putting any dye onto them. It would look as if the centre of the chain were coloured a pale cream.”
Sophie smiled “Then let’s do it. I wondered if the chain could be made up of little S’s like this,” and she drew a chain of S’s on the table with a finger dipped in her tea.
Samad looked at her drawing then glanced at her quickly “You know letters?”
“No, no, only the one to start my name. A, um, monk showed it to me,” she explained.
The Arab narrowed his eyes but said no more, drinking his tea and fiddling with his instruments.
“Well, let’s get this done, I have things I must do today.” Eirik told them.
“What colour do you want? I have the blue or the red.”
“Blue,” both Eirik and Sophie said in unison.
The tattooing was slow and quite painful, each pinprick tapped in to allow the dye to penetrate the skin, but she gritted her teeth and didn’t make a sound. She was a shield maiden, pain was nothing!
When it was finished to both Eirik’s and Samad’s satisfaction, Samad held up a mirror made of polished metal and she was able to see the finished effect. A fine chain of closed S’s, with what appeared to be a lighter colour in the centre, but which were actually her scars, trailed around her neck. It looked like a filigree necklace and Sophie was delighted with it.
“It brings out the blue of your eyes” Eirik said.
Turning the mirror this way and that she expressed her delight and thanked Samad profusely. Eirik was watching her with pleasure and when she said that he should have one too, he did
n’t say no immediately.
“You could have a chain around the top of your arm.”
“Yes, I’ll think about it, but not today, I must go and organise my patrol for tomorrow and you must rejoin the shieldmaidens and prepare for your first sortie.”
He paid the Arab and told him to think up a design for a thick chain around his bicep, then after Abd Al Samad had left them he took her into his arms, kissed her and hugged her to him tightly.
“I won’t be able to be with you tonight. I must stay with my men and when I see you tomorrow I will be Merkismathr and you a shieldmaiden.”
“I understand, I don’t expect any special treatment and will do my best not to let you or Astrid down,” she said lifting her mouth for another kiss. Then he was gone and she collected her things, said goodbye to Alta and made her way back to the shieldmaidens hall.
***
Sophie didn’t sleep that night, her mind going over the last few weeks. She couldn’t rid herself of that feeling of dread that had crept over her in Eirik’s arms and was afraid; she didn’t know of what, whether it was the fear of being killed or killing another human being.
The afternoon before had been spent sorting out her clothing and weapons, she now had thick leather arm protectors, a thick tunic like Eirik’s and long boots up to her knees. Her sword was polished and sharpened to shining lethality and her short sword and war axe were the same. She had a shield that she would wear across her back while riding, and wondered how she could ever fight carrying such weight.
Astrid and two others were to go out on patrol with her and they breakfasted before dawn broke, on porridge, dried fruit, and barley bread smothered in honey. They drank strong ale flavoured with bog myrtle and it went straight to her head, making her feel strong and invincible. She now understood why the Danes drank so heavily, as this feeling was better than the fear she had felt before.
The horse she had been allotted was rough coated and small compared to the modern horses she was used to, but it was strong and willing and moved well. The Danes only used horses for patrols and scouting, preferring to march into battle and fight on foot, but these native horses that had been seized in raids on the local farms, were useful to take patrols out further and faster when chasing the Myrce.
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