Read VIKING THRALL (Historical Romance, Medieval, Viking) Online
Authors: Joanna Davis
Twelve
Esme cringed as Magnus draped the necklace over her head. It was yet another gift. She already have five new gowns, slippers in many colors, warn boots, a cloak, a lute, a carved wooden chest of her own, and now pearls from the sea.
"I thank you."
"You look most fair Esme. I would that I did not have to leave you today. You tempt me with your beauty."
She smoothed down the embroidered wool of yet another new gown. This one a spring green that he said matched her eyes. She didn't object to the gowns exactly. It was the manner with which he treated her.
She was restricted to the Viking's chamber unless in his presence for meals. Other wise she was left alone and told to rest and make herself ready.
Ready for his pleasure.
Esme knew the hulking giant had come to care for her. The truth was, she was coming to care for him too.
Nay, more than care.
Love.
That didn't change the fact that she felt like a cow or a goat, kept only for milking!
Only she was the one who was milking him!
She could only imagine what things would become like when she was with child. At the rate things were going, even an innocent such as she knew that it was inevitable.
Four or five times a night he took her. That didn't include the times he snuck into see her during the day. Truth be told, all she did was sleep, eat, bath, and rut!
It was very disconcerting.
Magnus was looking at her in that way that signified he wished to lay with her again. That would make a record six times since dining the night before. She was tired and sore. But she dared not tell him that.
He sighed deeply.
"Would that I could stay and have my way with you again. You bring me much pleasure woman."
She nodded. That much was obvious. More than that though, he never said aught of his feelings. He certainly never used the word 'love.'
Perhaps Vikings didn't believe in such things.
He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his manhood pressing into her belly insistently. He seemed to be ready to rut at all times. With a groan he pulled away.
"Rest well this day Esme. I would have you ready for me on my return."
"Aye Magnus. Fare thee well."
He raised his hand and was gone.
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Magnus searched the shoreline from the edge of the cliff where he stood with his men. There was no sign of Arne and his group. But that did not mean they were not there.
He jerked his head, sending half his men to the left and half to the right. He and Olric would stand watch until the scouts were back. If neither group found any signs of trouble, they would return.
He was thinking very seriously about what to do with Esme when the scouts reappeared on the horizon. Other than obvious task of continuing to enjoy her body, he was now considering what to do when she inevitably quickened with his child. The thought of her carrying his bairn filled him with pride. She would give him gloriously beautiful and clever girl children and boys whose prowess and bravery would be spoken of for a thousand years.
He wasn't sure which he wanted first...
Suddenly he understood how Varid had felt upon the birth of his daughter.
Girl children could be equally delightful, if not more so.
And yet, if they were born to a thrall, would his children not be slaves too? 'Twas law. He could free them of course. But he'd rather they be born free, without the stain of slavery.
And he wanted to reward his slave for the past weeks of bliss she'd given him.
He nodded his head, deciding. 'Twas settled. He would wed her. Then their bairns would be born free people.
Varid was out of breath as he arrived.
"Signs of a large gathering heading toward home!"
"What?"
Of course! What fools they had been! While they were out searching for him, Arne had approached their unprotected settlement on the coast. One thought was racing through his mind, filling him with dread.
His woman was alone, with no one to protect her. If Arne saw her, he would want her for himself. Magnus uttered a silent prayer to Odin that she be safe from harm until he could reach her.
Esme.
He bellowed and took off at a gallop. Behind him, the sound of horses echoed over the rocky field. It normally took an hour to reach the longhouse. Magnus did it in half that.
When he got there, he swung off his horse and ran for the entranceway, broadsword held high.
Inside it was eerily silent.
There were signs of a struggle everywhere he turned. Magnus's heart beat wildly in his chest as he ran for his chamber. It was in ruins with no sign of his thrall, nor anyone for that matter.
He stormed through the longhouse to the kitchen, his blood ringing loudly in his ears.
An elderly slave huddled behind an overturned table.
Magnus lifted the old woman to her feet.
"WHERE IS MY THRALL?"
The woman looked scared witless but he had not time to calm her. He took hold of her shoulders and shook her, waking her from her trance. She stared up at him, shaking her head wildly.
"They took her! The big one with the white hair. He said he would claim her as his own!"
Magnus closed his eyes. It was as he feared. Arne had stolen his woman.
But at the very least, he knew she was still alive. Her beauty had saved her from certain death. Now it was up to him to save her from the foul hands of Arne.
Thirteen
Esme accepted the goblet of wine from the handsome Viking. She was seated at a place of honor, facing the leader of this other band of Vikings.
"Again please my lady. I am most interested in how you came to be in Magnus's bedchamber."
She blushed prettily.
"As I told you, I am being held for ransom."
She sipped her wine.
"A very
large
ransom. Until my kin folk can pay, I am being treated as a guest in Magnus's home. He gave me use of his chamber for myself for the duration of my stay."
Arne grinned at her, his dimples distracting her for a moment. The man really was as pretty as a girl. But there was a devilish light in those soft gray eyes of his.
"A guest? I find that hard to believe."
"And yet, it is so."
He laughed charmingly.
"Perhaps he seeks to keep you for himself. To wife."
Now it was Esme's turn to laugh.
"He despises Saxons as well you know. He would never take an enemy woman to wife."
Arne leaned forward, refilling her cup with his excellent wine.
"To bed then."
Esme coughed to cover up her dismay. She must convince Arne that she was a high born woman. Otherwise she knew she's be made into his personal plaything. The way he looked at her was already overly warm.
Did Vikings ever think of anything but rutting?
Arne's eyes slid down over her body, lingering at the top of her gown where her breasts threatened to spill free.
Apparently not.
"Magnus knows well that he must return me in my original state. Untouched. Besides, I do not think he finds me to his liking."
Arne smiled at her cunningly. He was very clever. Esme knew she must tread lightly.
"I doubt that."
"Nay, tis true! Magnus is fond of large women. Heavy set with large, um, feminine characteristics."
Now all the men were laughing, Arne most of all.
"Oh come now, you expect us to believe that?"
"Aye! He also prefers that they-" Esme scrambled, improvising valiantly for her life. "-not bathe for long stretches!"
"Go on, tell us more about the great Magnus and his preferences in the fairer sex. But while you do, I'd prefer it if you did it from here."
Esme blinked at him.
"Where here?"
Arne leaned back in the throne like seat that he was currently sitting in and patted his heavily muscled thigh. Did all Viking warriors have such remarkable builds? True he was slight next to Magnus, but so was a might oak.
Arne was still twice the size of the average man back home.
And he wanted her to sit on his lap. She knew that once she did, he would take advantage of the situation. Of her lack of strength and power.
In short, he would bed her.
"But I cannot! T'would be improper my lord!"
"My lord?"
Arne laughed and leaned forward, the boyish sparkle disappearing from his eyes.
"I think you are naught but a treasured pet, Magnus's personal whore. Now I would have you for myself. You will serve me now and well, or pay with your head."
Esme's hand fluttered to her throat. 'Twas as she feared. Cruel fate had just passed her from one man to another. And truth be told, she preferred Magnus to this man or any other.
If only she were married. A wife would be protected from this sort of boorish behavior. She thought madly, straining to think of a way out of this.
"But I am an innocent! No ransom will be paid if I am molested in any way!"
Arne grinned cruelly, coming around the table to lean over her menacingly.
"What care I for ransom? I just want to sink my cock into-"
"Riders!"
"Tis Magnus and his men! They come in large numbers!"
Arne cursed and stood, reaching for his broadsword. Fear filled her, at the thought of these two men doing battle over her. Esme grabbed for Arne's weapon without thinking and earned a backhand across her cheek for her trouble.
Her last thought as the blackness claimed her was of Magnus.
That he not be hurt…
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Magnus slammed his sword against the axe of one of Arne's warriors. He'd bested three already, leaving them injured but not dead. He had plans for them.
Especially if any harm had come to her.
Esme.
"Where is she???"
Arne laughed from behind a line of warriors.
"Who? The whore? I've had her many times this day. I tire of her already. Mayhap if you ask nicely I will return her to you with my child in her belly!"
Magnus roared and brought the handle of his sword down on the hapless warriors head, sending him to the ground. He stepped toward Arne but another warrior blocked his path. He cursed and began to battle this new opponent.
Would but it was Arne!
"What have you done to her? If you have harmed her Arne I will have your head for it!"
He cut the man's arm deeply, causing muscle and sinew to burst forth. He stepped forward again, only to be faced with yet another warrior. He spared Arne another glance before beginning anew.
"But not until I've cut off your prick!"
"Your whore is dead! She displeased me so I cut her head off and threw it into the sea!"
Magnus bellowed and speared the man's chest with his sword. The dead man hung in the air for a moment, spraying Magnus with his blood. Magnus used his boot to remove the dead man from his blade. Then he turned to face Arne.
"You lie!"
Arne blanched as his remaining warriors ran away. At last, Magnus could have what he really wanted.
Revenge.
It took bare minutes before he had the Arne's white blond hair under his boot. The young warrior had fought valiantly but was no match for Magnus. No one was. Olric and the men had taken care of what was left of the others.
"Check the building then set it afire. We will take these men as prisoners. See if- see if you can find her body. I would give her a proper burial."
"Aye Magnus."
He pushed down with his heel, making Arne whimper in pain. The sound should have filled him with glee. At any other time, it would have.
But today Magnus felt only sorrow. Sorrow and loss. Arne had stolen the thing he treasured above all else.
Esme was dead.
"You will suffer greatly for what you have done of this day!"