CHAPTER TWO #2
Without the usual candles and bowls of sacrificial blood, the prayers to the gods and other offerings, Katrin's unease grew.
She had less control over the visions without the proper tools to guide her.
Still, she obeyed, not wanting Gunilla to suspect anything other than what she'd said.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then forced her gaze to lock onto the other woman.
Almost instantly, a vision arose. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the scream from erupting.
She could not share this vision. Not now, maybe not ever.
Not until she knew if there was a chance it would be realized, though she admitted almost all of her premonitions had come to pass.
In the last two years, less than a handful had been proven false, or had differed from the original interpretation.
She forced her breathing to remain steady until the gruesome images faded.
Swallowing past the jagged lump in her throat, she said, "I see that you will be feted during our stay."
"Can you see how long we will be here?" Gunilla's eyes gleamed with malicious delight.
Katrin shook her head. "I cannot. But with the cold weather soon moving in, it is possible we may be here through the winter."
Gunilla gave a devilish smile. "Then we will be quite successful in this village."
"Yes, but only if I am successful in ensuring no one here suspects us of ill intentions. The only way to do that…"
Gunilla appeared to contemplate Katrin's words, both unspoken and otherwise. Finally, she nodded. "You may be right. It's clear he is quite attracted to you. You can bewitch him and he will convince the jarl we mean only to bring them luck and prosperity."
Katrin didn't respond. Instead she turned toward the dock, eager to get the rest of her belongings from the boat before she faced Hradi once more.
***
Folding his arms, Hradi watched the girl walk away, his gaze drawn to the soft sway of her hips, visible even under the heavy cloak she wore.
His fingers itched, anxious to shove it away and undo her brooches, letting her smokkr fall from her body.
In the year since his former slave, Dota, had been killed, he had lain with women a handful of times, oddly finding his normal appetites muted.
Not even the village thralls, normally subjected to whatever whims may take him, had tempted.
But this girl, part of what might be a group of thieves, intrigued him, roused desires, urgent and powerful, that he'd not felt in some time.
He would give her the one night alone in his bed, but no more.
Of course, by day's end tomorrow, he planned to have her begging him to join her.
"She has desire for you, brother. Use it." Kori's reminder drew a nod.
"Maybe I will keep her after that. She will make a fine slave." The very idea gave him a ferocious thrill.
Kori grinned. "Just make sure you don't give this one to Muli."
Hradi scowled at the thought of the wiry man who constantly made trouble for Kori and everyone else in the village.
If it weren't for Thorfinn's life-debt owed to Muli's father, the man would have been cast out long ago, despite being a skilled and valuable warrior.
Hradi scanned the hall, noting the traitorous cur sat near the back, away from most of the prying eyes, content to paw at the slave girl unlucky enough to serve him.
She didn't resist, knowing Muli would likely beat her, even to death, like he had done to Dota.
Hradi frowned, as he did every time his former slave crept into his memories.
He had no feelings for her. She had shown herself to be a treacherous whore, but a twinge of guilt always poked him whenever he recalled her mutilated body, her face unrecognizable.
Bah! He was as glum as one of the bards' tales of lost battles. Why should he care anymore? Dota had been no more than a slave. Possibly, he was about to gain a new one. One who possessed a much more desirable demeanor, as well as being far more beautiful.
At the thought of Katrin in his bed, the weight of regret that had hovered over him these past months lifted.
Imagining kissing her, touching her, making her writhe beneath him in passion soon had his cock rising, desperate for attention.
He tried to think of anything to ease the sudden ache but knew only one thing would appease him.
He couldn't have that, at least, not yet.
How would he survive the coming night and day?
His gaze repeatedly returned to the door, waiting for Katrin's return. It seemed as if she'd been gone for hours, instead of only a few minutes. An elbow in his side drew his attention to his grinning brother.
"I think you are smitten," Kori said.
Hradi chuckled, his tense anticipation ebbing. A little. "Maybe. It's been a long time since…"
Kori rolled his eyes. "I noticed."
"Noticed what?"
"Your sour mood these past months."
Hradi narrowed his eyes. "Worry no more, brother. I bear no guilt over that traitorous slave's death."
"I didn't think you carried that with you. That scheming, dangerous shrew got exactly what she deserved. In this, I take Muli's side."
Hradi's struggle to conceal his surprise failed, especially when he recalled the way Muli had treated Kori's wife. "That mangy liar? You side with him?"
Kori shrugged and took a bite from a hunk of roasted boar. "He has his uses." He raised his head and pierced Hradi with a fierce stare. "Dota claimed to be my wife's friend. Her betrayal hurt Geira worse than anything Muli has done."
His brother returned his attention to his meal.
Despite the easy opportunity, Hradi did not mock his brother for his loyalty and devotion to his wife.
Instead, his gaze returned to the entry.
It remained shut. Another nudge and laugh from his brother cut into his anticipation and lightened the tense mood.
He shoved Kori back, bracing himself for his brother to continue the jostling.
"Impatient?" Kori gave him a leering grin. "I understand why you are anxious for her. She is lovely." He nodded toward the door.
Katrin had returned. At her side stood the witch, who looked angry.
At who? The young woman beside her or someone, something, else?
The urge to shove the woman aside and lead Katrin to his bed nearly overcame him.
Instead, he forced himself to calmly stand, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
His gaze ran over her, pleased she had removed her cloak.
He could more easily admire the curves the deep red smokkr barely concealed.
When his gaze returned to her face, he noted the uneasiness in her wide blue eyes.
He walked over to her, taking note of the satchel she carried.
She clutched the ties tightly, winding them around her clenched fingers, the long slender sack wrapped within her arms.
"Come, I will see you are made comfortable." He motioned with his head for her to follow.
Wait!" Gunilla stepped between him and Katrin. "At dawn, we will make a sacrifice to the gods to ask for their blessings for your village and thank them for the successful harvest Jarl Thorfinn has told me about. She will be needed to assist."
"I will see she is brought to you before Sól begins her journey across the sky."
The witch's eyes narrowed. "You will not touch her."
Hradi managed to subdue his annoyance. "I have already given my word that she may have my bed tonight. And that I will not be in it. Is that not enough for you?"
The older woman's lips pressed into a tight line but she said nothing more. With a nod of acquiescence, she stepped back, allowing Katrin to join Hradi.
He couldn't take his gaze from her. Her fiery hair was styled in a mix of braids and long loose curls, and he found himself wanting to gather it in his fist and drag her mouth to his.
Instead, he gritted his teeth and turned to the back of the hall.
He ignored the ribald shouts and bawdy language, but dared a glance at Katrin.
Though not as tiny as he'd first thought when he'd carried her limp body from the docks, she still stood at least a full head shorter than him.
A head that bowed over the satchel she still clutched closely to her chest. Suddenly the whistles and shouts annoyed him and he swept an angry glare about the room.
Raucous laughter followed them to the doorway that led to the private chambers where the jarl and his family slept.
The large room lined with bunks seemed to close in on Hradi.
He had her alone now. Could take her if he so chose.
But he had given his word, much as it pained him to resist the urge to haul her against him and claim her mouth.
Instead, he touched her arm and pointed toward the far end of the room, reminding her where his bed-closet lay.
He shoved back the curtains, revealing the large straw and down-filled mattress covered with furs. "I hope you find this comfortable. I will be back before dawn to take you to your mistress."
She finally lifted her head, meeting his gaze.
Her wide blue eyes were filled with a wary curiosity but he also detected a hint of interest. The sight sent a jolt to his cock.
Despite his intentions, he found himself reaching for her, grabbing her arm and pulling her close.
She opened her mouth to protest, but he swooped in and covered her lips with his, swallowing her gasp.
She tasted of ambrosia, his earlier fanciful imaginings coming true.
He slid his tongue into the warm velvet of her mouth, the tiny mewling sound escaping her making him still harder.
He should stop, now, before he went further than he planned, but he didn't want to release her, savoring her sweet scent and the soft trembling of her body.
Finally, with a groan, he gathered his wits and pulled away, studying her.
Her lips, now swollen from his fierce kiss, were parted and the struggle to resist kissing her once more seemed the fiercest he'd ever faced.
She sucked in little gasps of breath, her eyes dewy with a surprised passion.
He silently called to the gods to give him the strength to walk away.
Releasing his grip on her arm, he stepped back.
"I will see you in the morning,"
The way her eyes flared told him she had noticed the thickness in his voice. Somehow, he found the ability to turn and head back to the hall.