Chapter 14 #3
Haakon was relieved when the dancing resumed but Gytha stayed where she was, eating the rest of her stew. He didn’t think he would have survived another of her sensual performances.
Soon, an old man sat down next to him and winked.
“Such activities are no longer for me, alas.” His voice was full of regret. “But I see you are not dancing either, my friend?”
“No.” Haakon didn’t feel like explaining why. What could he say? That dancing would never give him as much pleasure as watching Gytha move to the rhythm of the music? That he was hard as a poker and loath to have everyone see it?
“Fine. Let us drink instead.” The man handed him a rough-hewn cup filled with a liquid of an unusual and rather unappetising murky color.
“I’d rather keep a clear head, if you don’t mind,” Haakon said after one sniff of the suspicious brew. Gytha was dancing again. Amidst these strangers who could not have failed to see her sensual appeal, it would not do to lose the ability to think clearly.
Her safety was his responsibility.
The man chuckled, not having missed the darkening of his brow. “Want to keep an eye on your woman, hey? See that no one tries to entice her into more than a dance? I understand. A rare beauty, that one. Were I young and strapping myself, I would—”
“I’m not thirsty but I am rather hungry if I’m honest,” Haakon interrupted, having no wish to hear what the man would have done had he been younger.
He could all too easily guess. He had been dreaming about it himself all evening.
And the problem was, he was young and strapping, and he knew Gytha might well answer favorably to his advances if he was foolish enough to approach her.
“And your son was generous enough to offer us some food earlier.”
The man with the gold earring had to be related to the one in front of him. In fact, Haakon was starting to suspect that the troop was nothing less than a big family, complete with cousins and uncles, spreading over three or four generations.
“Of course, I should have thought. Here. Have a slice of bread. And try some of the rabbit stew. It’s Gertrude’s special recipe and the best I’ve ever had.”
“My thanks.” Indeed, as suspicious as the drink had been, the stew looked—and smelled—wonderful. And after a whole day of riding, he was hungrier than he’d thought. The cheese and dried meat they’d eaten before leaving the village this morning had long been forgotten.
Eyes glued on Gytha who, once again had joined the line of people weaving their way through the meadow, Haakon devoured the contents of the wooden bowl. At least she was laughing and running now, no longer undulating like the goddess of temptation.
“You don’t want another man to touch your woman, understood,” the old musician said after a while.
“But if you are after some well-earned relaxation yourself, I can send my youngest daughter to you. She has always liked Norsemen and is very talented with her mouth. You won’t have to do a thing to reach the best release of your life. How does that sound?”
This declaration was so unwelcome and inappropriate in so many ways that Haakon just stared, not sure what to answer.
The man had just assumed that, though he didn’t want Gytha to be unfaithful to him, Haakon himself was looking for another woman to bed.
He had then offered to send his own daughter to suck his cock, and this without even checking whether she would be amenable.
How did he even know about her supposed “talent” at pleasuring men?
As if all that were not enough, he had made it clear she would do it, not because of who he was, but because of what he was. A Norseman.
It was offensive, sickening and maddening all at once. Typical of the Saxon women he’d met.
“Thank you,” he said rather stiffly. “But I think I had better get some sleep tonight. We’ll be riding hard tomorrow.”
“Of course. Of course. So are we.”
To his relief, it wasn’t long before the music stopped altogether and the old man declared it was time for everyone to go to sleep as they would have a long day on the morrow. At last.
Haakon headed over to where Gytha was catching her breath and sharing a drink with the other women.
Had she been offered some of the murky brew?
He doubted it, as she seemed to drink whatever was in the cup with relish.
Before he could reach her, a woman planted herself in front of him.
The old man’s youngest daughter, no doubt.
There was a gleam in her dark eyes that could all too easily be lust.
“Good evening. Haakon, is it? I heard your friend call you earlier.”
Friend. Damnation, he and Gytha really should have pretended to be husband and wife, for her and his protection. Next time they met someone, they would. He would have to warn her.
“Yes,” he told the musician curtly.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful man. It is my lucky day, I’d say.” She allowed her gaze to wander over him greedily. Yes. She was reeking of lust. “It’s not every day we have such interesting guests.”
“Thank you, but Gytha is far more interesting than I am, trust me. You should go speak to her.” Now that he thought of it, they had not been asked to share in any interesting stories as payment for the troop’s hospitality.
Well, too late. Right now he intended to go to bed and they would leave at first light. The musicians had missed their chance.
“Mm, perhaps she is interesting, and she is a good dancer, I will admit, but my tastes run more to strapping men than petite females.”
Instead of answering, he smiled blandly then made to walk past her but she moved at the same time, trapping him between the fire and her own burning body.
Short of pushing her out of the way—which was getting increasingly tempting—there was nothing he could do but wait to hear for whatever she intended to tell him.
“We could go spend a moment in the woods together,” she suggested, licking her lips. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
And he was sure of the opposite. He had promised to stay clear of Saxons and he would—at least he would stay clear of this particularly bold one.
“Thank you, but I’m really tired.”
“You won’t have to do a thing.”
Hell, what was a man to do to convince a woman he didn’t want his cock sucked? He could think of only one thing. “Forgive me,” he said, leaning in to speak in her ear. “But I’m not interested. My tastes, too, run more to strapping men than petite females.”
The shock on the woman’s face was ample reward for his effort. Finally, she moved and he was able to join Gytha, who had sat back down on her log. A becoming flush was still coloring her cheeks. She beamed when he stopped in front of her.
“I had such a great time tonight.”
Yes, and after the weeks she’d had, she’d needed it.
“I’m glad. Now, let’s go settle in some corner or other to sleep,” he said, lifting her by the elbow.
“If I don’t give the impression of being tired, I’m afraid that woman over there is going to pounce on me, whether I want her to or not.
” He would not admit he had pretended to prefer men to escape her clutches.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if her name was Edita, you know. ”
Gytha was amused by the jest, as he’d hoped. “Don’t tell me you are using me to protect yourself from an assault from a puny woman?”
“What if I were?” he asked, signaling that she should follow him back to the horses to retrieve their blankets.
He had already spotted the perfect place for them to sleep, away from the crowd of people, on the mossy ground under a mighty oak.
“And puny or not, there is nothing more dangerous than a determined woman. Because I cannot do what I would do with a man to dispose of her.”
“Which is?”
“Send her flying, like I did with Oswald. I will not raise a hand to a woman.”
Gytha cocked her head. “Mm. You do have a point. Muscles are useless in this instance. But…”
“But what?”
“Well, why didn’t you respond to her invitation?”
Good question. It had not crossed his mind for a moment.
Who agreed to ride a temperamental mule when a spirited mare was ready?
Haakon winced at the unflattering image.
What was he doing, comparing women to animals to be ridden?
The desire he was feeling for Gytha must be addling his mind, he decided.
“If you must know, I really am tired and would like to sleep,” he said instead, handing her one of the blankets.
That was not strictly true. With the right woman, he would gladly have spent a sleepless night, watching her do the riding and then he would have taken his turn. With the right woman, he would have agreed to have his cock and everything else she wanted licked.
Gytha flushed as if she had heard his musings. Or… Was it even worse?
Lost to his fantasises, had he spoken out loud? He dearly hoped not.
“Very well,” she mumbled. “Let’s get some sleep then. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”