Viking Love Beyond Time (Time Travel Romance) (24 page)

             
“May I come in Captain, I have something of an official nature I need to discuss with you and it’s too noisy out here”

             
Without waiting for an answer he pushed past her and shutting the door behind him he turned the key and removed it from the keyhole.

             
“OK Owen, hand it over” she snapped, her voice dripping icicles.  Luke smiled and dropped the key down the front of his braeis.

             
“I’m tired of taking orders from you
Captain
Austen” he said quietly “from now on I’m going to give them.  As Oswy so rightly puts it, you’re only a woman.  If God had wanted you to be equal he wouldn’t have made you weaker” with that he grabbed her hair and forcing her head up kissed her savagely, her teeth meeting on his lip a second later made him pull away with a shriek.

             
Alodie backed up and climbed over the bed. “And if He had wanted us to be obedient and unquestioning He would not have given us better brains Lieutenant Commander!” she snapped “now get out and go sleep with your fat Welsh slut”

             
Luke vaulted over the bed with a speed which surprised her and pinned her against the wall. “Or what?” he snarled “or what?  Will you put me on a charge?” he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her onto the bed then, taking her night-dress in his hands he attempted to rip it from neck to hem.  The material, however, was strong linen and it defeated him.  Frustrated, he jerked it up over her head, effectively pinioning her arms and leaving her naked to his gaze. “Oh God, Alodie, I’ve dreamed about this for so long” he muttered.

             
She shuddered as she felt his moist tongue begin to nuzzle her nipple and then move between her breasts and over her stomach.

             
Alodie lay like a limp doll, her face lost in the folds of her night-dress.  She could fight, she knew she could.  She could knee him in the balls and kick and scream but to what end?  She had wanted this for months, ever since she left her green pills on the ship. 
But not with Luke Owen!
screamed a voice in her brain.

             
Luke pulled her up into a sitting position and dragging her night-dress over her head he threw it to the floor.  Alodie fell back, naked, and watched him.  He removed his shirt and flexed his biceps.  “You could do worse than me, you know Alodie” he said.

             
“Really?” she asked “how?”  Luke stiffened, ever since he had known her this bitch had made him feel inferior, she beat him on all counts, she was even his superior officer goddammit!  All the years of frustration and jealousy suddenly erupted.  With a snarl he turned and hit her with the back of his hand, the force of it sent her tumbling off the bed and she lay, stunned and winded, on the hard stone floor.  Grabbing a handful of her hair he dragged her up and punching her in the stomach threw her back onto the bed.

             
“You’ve needed this for years, Alodie Austen!” he hissed “and by God you’re going to get it!” With that he removed his boots, tore at the thongs securing his braeis and dropping them stood naked in front of her, his manhood rearing huge and menacing between his thighs.  Putting his hand round it he rubbed it, lovingly.

Alodie’s mouth was bleeding, she felt sick, this was not how it should be the first time.  It should be with a man you loved, who cared for you.  Unbidden, an image of Rorik leaped into her mind.  She backed up the bed until she reached the wall and could go no further then, curling into a ball like a small snail going into its shell she began to whimper, she was scared, terrified.

             
Luke smiled, and grabbing her ankles he dragged her inexorably back down the bed then, forcing her legs apart, he knelt between them and rubbing her innermost core with his index finger he whispered in her ear “It’s a positive crime that this has been kept from mankind for so long” then he grasped her wrists and pinned her arms above her head.

             
Alodie panicked.  She could feel his member pulsing, pushing against the entrance it so eagerly sought, she wriggled in an attempt to escape but that only seemed to inflame him more.  “Give it up, Alodie, don’t make it any worse for yourself than you need to baby, it’s gonna happen, accept it”

             
Suddenly, as had happened before in situations where she was afraid, anger  began to overwhelm her.  This immature son of a bitch was using  her body, against her will, to satisfy his own filthy lusts.  It was worse, far worse than anything the Vikings did, this man was supposed to be civilised.  Give up?  Not without a struggle she wouldn’t!

             
Taking a deep breath and using all her remaining strength she pulled her hands free then grabbing his hair and dragging his head up she raked his face with her nails.  “You bitch!” he screamed and knelt up, putting his hand to his face, it came away bloody.  With a snarl Luke punched her at the side of the head and grabbing her shoulders began to shake her like a rag doll.  She felt her teeth chattering and the back of her head hitting the wall, she began to slip into unconsciousness.

             
Suddenly Luke Owen was on the floor, the room was slowing down and the Viking was standing over her.

             
Ignoring the pain in her head she scrambled under the covers and pulled them up to her neck.  Rorik leaned over and taking her chin in his hand inspected the damage to her face. “Tcha” he said “your lip is cut and you’re going to have a huge bruise on your temple, is the back of your head alright?” Without waiting for an answer he gently pulled her forward and down.  She felt his fingers probing the back of her head.  “Just badly bruised, do you have any water in here?” Alodie nodded and gestured to the ewer and bowl on the dresser. “Cloth?” he asked.  She shook her head, wincing with the pain.

             
Noticing her night-dress on the floor and picking it up Rorik ripped it straight across as if it were gossamer, then pouring water into the bowl he brought it to her and, wetting the cloth, began to dab her lip.

             
Groaning, Luke began to climb painfully to his feet. “Do you really wish to wed this animal Alodie?” Rorik asked, conversationally. Alodie shook her head.

             
“No - oh, look out!”

             
Luke had managed to get to his feet and grabbing the knife he kept on his  belt raised it above his head and began to bring it down in a deadly arc, aiming between the Viking’s shoulder blades.  Turning nonchalantly Rorik grabbed Luke’s arm in one huge hand and taking the knife from him with the ease of removing a dangerous toy from a child hurled it, with deadly accuracy, into the table at the other end of the room, then grabbing Luke by the hair, he dragged him to the window.  “I will kill you Luke Edmundson” he hissed “but now is not the time, go sleep with your relations - the swine!” With ridiculous ease he picked Luke up and threw him bodily out of the window, then walking over to his clothes picked them up and threw them after him.

             
Alodie was astounded “Rorik!” she gasped “you’ll kill him!”

             
“Would you care,
min helt
?” he asked, coming back to sit on the bed.  “Fear not, the straw broke his fall and no one ever died of falling into a pig sty before. The pigs might be slightly annoyed though!”

             
Wincing in pain Alodie wrapped the sheet round herself and holding the damp cloth to her lip, walked to the window.  Looking down she saw Luke pulling on his clothes, surrounded by the sty’s grunting residents.  He turned and shook his fist at the window.  She drew back, trying not to smile “Rorik, you Danish bastard!” he shrieked “keep your stinking hands off my woman or I’ll cut your balls off!  I’m going to - get off you filthy lump of bacon - I’m going to kill you!”

             
Rorik came up behind her and gently pulled the shutters closed, stemming the sound of Luke’s wrath, then taking her hand he led her back to the bed.  He lit the candle and placed it on the bedside table, it was a thick one and it filled the room with a pearly golden glow.

             
Strangely enough, Alodie was not at all afraid, she felt more at ease, more at one, with Rorik than she had ever done with anyone in her life.  He looked into her eyes and smiled, then picking her up in his huge arms as if she were a child, he laid her on the bed, covered her with the wolf’s pelt and kissed her head. “I came to help you” he whispered “I saw that
nithing”
he jerked his thumb towards the window “going up the stairs to your room, egged on by his uncle”

             
“Why should you be concerned about that?” asked Alodie “you and I had only just met and when the king introduced me it was as Luke’s betrothed, we may have had an assignation, and anyway how did you get in?  The door was locked, he made sure of that”

             
“My love” he said, rubbing a huge forearm “in answer to your first question, a woman of your exceptional qualities could not possibly love a bragging coxcomb like him, he has no - no mettle, and in answer to your second question I climbed on the pigsty wall then jumped and grabbing your windowsill, pulled myself up”

             
Alodie was impressed, she was also rather at a loss what to do next. “You seem very sure of yourself, master Viking” she said at last.  He smiled, flashing white, strong, teeth.

             
“Will you come riding with me tomorrow Alodie?” he asked.

             
She shook her head “No, I cannot, I have to attend the queen in the sewing room and anyway I am an unmarried woman, it would not be seemly for me to ride alone with.............”

             
“A bloodthirsty savage” cut in Rorik.

             
“If you like” said Alodie, archly, suddenly remembering her prejudices, although it was getting more and more difficult.

             
“It is as well then my sweet that they do not know you are naked in your bed chamber with one” he chuckled.

             
Alodie blushed to the roots of her hair. “Look, please, you had better go”.

             
He smiled again and leaning forward kissed her forehead, his lips were cool.  The salute, chaste though it was, brought her up in goose bumps and she wriggled uncomfortably.  Getting off the bed he picked up the key from where it had fallen and placed it on the table.  “The feast is in full swing down there” he said “if I was seen leaving your room in front of the whole hall it would be even more unseemly, don’t you think?”  Alodie nodded then smiled, relieved that he had pointed it out.

             
Rorik crossed the room and opening the shutters climbed onto the ledge and turning, blew her a kiss.  “Until tomorrow my lady.  I will be waiting by the stables two hours before
noon
” with that he jumped.

             
Alodie was at first amazed, then fearful.  She clambered out of bed and ran naked to the window, Rorik was standing in the courtyard brushing straw from his braeis, the full moon shone upon him making him look like some Olympian god at the dawn of history “Rorik” she hissed.  He looked up and saw her in the window, framed by the candlelight, and ran his tongue over his lips.  “I will not be there, I told you I cannot go riding with you”

             
“Do not be too sure” he called back “and milady.............”

             
“What?”

             
“Wear the same outfit you have on now”

             
Blushing furiously Alodie realised that he could see almost all her breasts as she stood there, naked, with the light behind her and she moved back, quickly.  “Alodie” he called, louder this time,
oh no
she thought,
at this rate he’ll alert the whole hall
.  She grabbed the sheet again and went back to the window.

             
“For heaven’s sake keep quiet Rorik, you’ll alert the guard! What do you want?”

             
“Bar your shutters.  There are no Saxons man enough to try storming your window but there may be an odd Viking or two in the area!”

             
“Good night” she said, trying to suppress a giggle, and after taking his advice and barring the shutters, she climbed into bed.  She lay staring at the ceiling, with the candlelight dancing on it, for almost an hour.  That someone very important had come into her life she was aware but as to her feelings for him she was entering unknown territory.  She was in a quandary.  One thing was certain, he was an arrogant son of a bitch - he had, however, the maturity and strength of character to carry it off.

             
Her last thought before she drifted off to sleep, however, was that she was at no man’s beck and call and she was certainly not going riding with him tomorrow.

Alodie was up and about earlier than the rest of the court the next morning but she saw no sign of either Luke or Rorik – not, she reminded herself,  that she wished to.  However, in the sewing room the huge Viking was the sole topic of conversation.  Alodie’s cut lip and bruising had been diminished to almost nothing with the help of autodoc, and apart from a concerned query from Aehlswith, (Alodie told her that she had fallen out of bed in the night), no one seemed to notice anything amiss.

             
“Well, I’ll tell you ladies, he can come and rape and pillage me any time he likes” announced Gwen of Saltop, in her sing song voice, biting off the thread with her teeth.

             
“What a good idea” said Elfwin of Warchester, a thin embittered widow in her early thirties who looked at least fifteen years older “let us send the Great Viking Army to Saltop.  Gwen would have them all surrendering within three days, worn out!”

             
“Scoff away” snapped Gwen, tossing her head and looking pointedly at Alodie, “but I’ll wager that he’s like all the other men in this court - spend their time mooning over insipid wenches with golden hair but when it comes down to it they like the real thing with a more earthy dark type of woman!” the sewing room fell silent, one or two of the women looking pityingly at Alodie.

             
“Gwen!” snapped Aehlswith “You will apologise for that remark immediately!”

             
“Surely, your Grace!” said Gwen, a look of malice on her broad face “er, who to?” several sniggers were quickly suppressed.

             
Aehlswith was in a dilemma, if she asked Gwen to apologise to Alodie it would bring out into the open what Alodie, and the rest of the court, already knew, and drive a further wedge between Luke and her friend.

             
Suddenly Alodie stood up, smoothing her skirts “’t’is as well you all know, my ladies” she announced “my wedding to Luke Edmundson is not going to take place, ever, so you can chatter about him bedding Gwen here to your gossipy hearts’ delight, please do not let my presence here spoil anything because - to coin a phrase - frankly my dears, I don’t give a damn, Elfwin, please be good enough to pass me the red silk” with that she sat down.  The quote from ‘Gone with the Wind’ was slightly over the top perhaps but all in all she thought, not a bad speech.

             
There was a collective gasp followed by frantic whispering, her bluntness had astounded everyone.

             
At last silence descended broken only by the plop of needles.  Alodie felt the occasional surreptitious glance in her direction.  The tension was almost palpable.  “Well, really, if no one else is going to protest I feel I must” said a voice after a few moments.  Everyone looked up.  Eartha of Dawsgrove was the one who had spoken, a matron of some fifty years, godmother to Queen Aehlswith and the self appointed guardian of the court’s morals. “such talk may be tolerated in
Bohemia
young woman, but here in
Wessex
, especially in the presence of her Grace the queen, it is not!”

             
Alodie glanced round pityingly at the faces, old and young, fat and thin, seated on stools in front of tapestry frames, spending their lives and wasting their brains making pretty pictures from wool, dying in their forties from bad sanitation and infections (if childbirth had not killed them off before that), and getting their excitement when they could.  She felt amazingly sorry for them. “I apologise for any offence, your Grace” she said “and to you also Lady Eartha, I was wrong in speaking out as I did, I was under the erroneous impression that talking about fornication was not as reprehensible as actually doing it, please forgive my mistake. 
Wessex
is obviously one of those places where one can do what one likes as long as no one mentions it out loud”

             
With a snort Eartha got to her feet and, like a ship in full sail, swept out of the room, followed by a gaggle of her cronies, muttering something under her breath about the court “being taken over by vulgar and ill bred foreigners”

             
There was silence for a few moments, then Aehlswith put her hand on Alodie’s arm.  “I am so sorry my dear” she whispered “we are not all like Eartha nor, thank God, Gwen, they’re both jealous of you, you know” Alodie looked up and smiled.

             
“You least of all have no reason to apologise, Aehlswith, I was brought up to speak my mind, I must put a curb on my tongue”

             
“Some of us think your honesty refreshing” said Aehlswith “I pray you’ll stay here”

             
“As long as you can put up with me” replied Alodie with a smile, returning to her stitching.  They were adding embroidery to a huge woven tapestry of the Battle of Ashdown for the north wall to ward off the draughts in winter and sewing was the one thing Alodie could not seem to master, try as she might.

             
The part she was supposed to be depicting was an especially gory segment portraying King Alfred’s impaling a Norseman with his sword but the Viking she was supposed to be embroidering looked more like a hunchbacked monkey than the human it was supposed to represent, it was hopeless.  Aehlswith was very patient with her and usually corrected her mistakes, she knew embroidery was not Alodie’s forte and did not press her to it.

             
That her friend was exceptionally intelligent Aehlswith had known since the day they met, she knew she was fluent in at least three languages, Saxon, Bohemian and Norse, and  the queen had been thrilled to meet another woman who could read, but unfortunately there were only nine books in the whole of Winchester, eight of those being Bibles in Latin which, surprisingly enough, Alodie had professed she had never even heard spoken, which shocked Aehlswith somewhat.  Why, even if they did not understand it, all good Christian folk had been brought up hearing spoken Latin, intoned by the priest.  She was, however, learning the language at a speed which astounded the young monk who was teaching her, one of the chaplains to the bishop.

             
Alodie was an enigma, a stunningly beautiful, amazingly intelligent, incredibly kind enigma, inherently feminine but as well versed in the arts and strategies of war as a man, able to read and write Saxon far better than the king and yet unable to embroider the simplest pieces or bake a loaf of bread, it was as if, Aehlswith thought, she came from another world altogether.

             
They were interrupted by a soft tapping at the door which opened cautiously to admit the same serving maid who had discovered Gwen’s comb in Luke’s bed, she walked over to Alodie and curtsied “If ee plaise ma’am” she said, glancing round self consciously, “Beahtric the stable lad wants to know ‘ow long will you be?  Your ‘orse ‘as been saddled now for almost ‘alf an hour”

             
The queen looked up.  “Did you say you were going riding Alodie?” she asked.

             
Alodie bit her lower lip. “No, ma’am, I did not, there must be some misunderstanding” she turned to the maid “you may tell Beahtric to unsaddle Shadow and please apologise on my behalf for any trouble he may have gone to” the maid bobbed and left the room.

             
Silence reigned once again, broken only be the soft pop and crackle of the logs in the fireplace.  It was always chilly in these stone halls, even in August, and in winter the tapestries were invaluable in insulating walls which sometimes had  a thin crust of ice inside even with two fires burning.

             
There was another knock at the door and the same maid entered, this time looking very confused.  “Plaise ma’am” she said to Alodie “the Viking - er milord Rorik ma’am - is in the ‘all and sez you was engaged to go riding with him this mornin’, he seems most definite ma’am”

             
Alodie glanced up, and looked straight into the eyes of Gwen of Saltop, the look she flashed Alodie was one of pure ice.  Alodie coughed and looked back at her embroidery, that red silk was wrong, it should not be on the end of the Norseman’s nose, he looked as though he had a heavy cold.

             
She heard Elfwin sniff pointedly and Gwen’s indrawn breath.  The maid was waiting. Alodie smiled at the discomfited girl “Tell milord Rorik” she said “that, as I informed him, I am engaged to sew with the queen this morning and am riding nowhere”

             
“Yes’m” said the girl and left the room.  Silence descended once more.

             
“Tell me my lady” drawled Gwen after a few moments  “as Lord Rorik only arrived last evening and you rushed up to your room within a minute of being introduced, closely followed, I might add, by your - er - former betrothed,
how
did the Viking know you were sewing and
when
did he ask you to ride with him?”

             
Alodie began to redden, madly.  “I - er, I.......”

             
“Rorik asked Alodie to ride with him at breakfast if you must know Gwen - she refused” interjected Aehlswith.  Alodie shot her a look of gratitude and received in return a questioning look accompanied by raised eyebrows.

             
There was yet another knock at the door and this time Rorik himself entered.  He was shirtless, and  dressed in brown trousers with soft shoes cross gartered to the knees and a cream linen sleeveless jerkin fastened only at the waist in the Viking fashion.  It was the first time Alodie, or anyone else in
Winchester
for that matter, had seen him in the daytime and he looked even more impossibly handsome.  His bare arms were corded with muscle and his chest and stomach were covered with a mat of dark brown hair.  He was also deeply tanned.   He fixed Alodie with a glance from his flashing green eyes.  “I was given to understand, my lady, that we had an arrangement to go riding” he said, his deep voice filling the small chamber.

             
She quickly looked down at her embroidery and began to pick at the red silk on the end of the Norseman’s nose.  “You understood incorrectly my Lord Rorik” she replied, quietly.

             
“I was looking forward to viewing the countryside in your delightful company” he answered evenly.

             
She glanced up at him - his deep green eyes burned into hers.  She licked her lips, they had suddenly gone dry, dry as leaves in autumn.  “I - I am sorry if I gave you that impression sir” she said “I am engaged to sew with the queen -  perhaps one of the other ladies.......”

             
Alodie glanced round, sure enough, Gwen of Saltop was climbing to her feet and patting her hair.

             
Suddenly Aehlswith stood up.  “Lady Alodie is a woman of many gifts” she announced, smiling, “unfortunately, embroidery is not one of them, you have my leave to go my lady.  I am sure you will be of better service showing my lord here the surrounding countryside than struggling with this, er.....” Aehlswith glanced at her embroidery “offering” she finished lamely.

             
Alodie flashed her a look of horror “But is this seemly your Grace?” she protested.

             
“You will, of course, have an escort” she looked up at Rorik “Lady Alodie will be ready shortly”

             
  Smiling, he bowed and left the room, leaving behind him a lingering odour of mint and sandalwood.

             
Alodie looked aghast at Aehlswith who, linking her arm, walked with her to the opposite side of the room, away from the gaggle of amazed women “Listen, Alodie” she whispered urgently “this is a heaven sent opportunity.  He is obviously besotted with you, as is every other male here under the age of ninety I might add.  Alfred does not trust the Vikings an inch, he thinks they mean to betray us, and master handsome here is the brother of Guthrum, the leader of the Viking army, if anyone knows what they intend to do it is he.  Bewitch him with those blue eyes of yours and see if you can uncover any plans - for the sake of
Wessex
.  By the by you need have no fear for your virtue out there in the forest” she continued primly “I am arranging for your escort to consist of Martin of Elsworth, the biggest and strongest of Alfred’s housecarles and Edward of Markhampton, the best swordsman”

             
Alodie curtsied and smiled, wanly “That, ma’am, gives me great comfort, I should imagine that it will take Rorik all of two minutes to best them both instead of the one minute it would have taken if you had sent me with just run of the mill warriors”

             
“Go, you saucy wench before I have you clapped in irons!” laughed the queen and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.  Alodie walked back toward the door.

             
“Oh Alodie” came Gwen’s spiteful voice as she reached for the latch.  “Make sure you stay on your horse, I would hate for you to end up on your back!”

             
Alodie turned “Why Gwen, how kind of you to worry so about me.  I think, however, that is a position you are far more likely to find yourself in before the day is out than I - good morning!”