Twelve
Skarth the Godless
I was stupid to think this would be simple.
I believed I would ride away with Emeline and finally be free.
But there is no such thing for us.
I am now, once again, tangled in a war I wanted no part in. All I wanted was to save my family, but I never factored Emeline into the equation. She hit me like a thunderstorm, and I’m still drowning in the rain.
I do this for her as I know with or without me, she will see this through. She will happily end her life for retribution, but I cannot let her do that.
Cecily awaits my return. I fear King Eanred may have taken his anger out on her once he discovered I was missing. She can look after herself, but so can Emeline, which is why I don’t understand; why do I keep coming to her aid?
Why do I continually put her first? Above my sister? My wife?
I want to believe it’s because I owe her something for sparing my life. But that would be a lie.
My feelings for her are irrational. They will get me killed, for she is all I see and all I think of. She has always been a part of me, but now, I want her with me always.
I think of Cecily, what a doting, caring wife she is, and I’m ashamed for thinking of another woman the way I do of Emeline. But Emeline has never been another woman to me. She has always been the one.
When a child, I cared for her fondly, but now as a woman, I care for her how a man cares for the woman he…loves. I do not know what this means for us. All I know is that I fight to protect her, even if that means working with Ulf once more.
He made it clear where the power lies, in case I’d forgotten. It’s been so long since I’ve been around my people, but it surprised me how quickly I fell back into the role. It’s here where I belong. I never turned my back on them, regardless of what Ulf believes.
I did what was right by my family. I knew of the sacrifice I made.
I am now skilled in both Saxon and Viking warfare, making me unstoppable. My father taught me to evolve, as it was the only way to survive. Ulf may not see it, but this is the only way to defeat the enemy. The world is so vast, and I want to learn.
But he is so stuck in his ways, and he refuses to accept anything but the way of our people. So much more is out there, and if I learned that by being a traitor, then I accept it.
Stripping out of my clothes, I enter the lake to bathe.
The cool water feels wonderful, and I dip underneath, holding my breath as I allow the water to wash away the world as I know it. The unknown doesn’t scare me, but now that I fight for Emeline’s freedom, I am frightened of failing her.
Breaking the surface, I gulp in air, but it’s not enough as I think of Emeline riding on horseback through battle, killing without pause.
To see her in my people’s clothing, fighting like the warrior queen I knew she was, my cock instantly hardens at the thought. I am always aroused after battle, for there is something erotic about taking another man’s life.
I am alive on the battlefield, and that energy still thrums through my veins. It won’t go away until I find a release.
I am submerged to my chest, so I grip my length and begin to work my shaft firmly. My hand is a poor substitute for who I want, but when I think of Emeline in battle, slathered in the enemy’s blood, I pretend it is she who strokes me firmly.
I think of her full pink lips and the curve of her hips. I think of how she defies me because she knows she can. I think of what it would feel like to punish her for such defiance. I think she would like it. I know I would.
Tossing my head back, I increase the tempo, losing myself to the woman I want with every breath I take.
However, when I hear the snapping of a branch, I instantly spring into attack mode and strain my eyes to see in the dark. Who I see isn’t the enemy, but she’s just as dangerous.
Emeline strips off, leaving her dress near my clothes. Thankfully, she has the good sense to leave on her chemise. She walks into the water, skimming the surface with her palms. I turn my back to her because seeing her wet and willing will not help settle my straining cock.
She continues walking toward me even though I won’t look at her. She stops close behind me. “Are you angry with me, Lord?”
“No, Princess, I am angry with myself.”
“Why?”
“I seem to make things worse even when I try to make them better,” I confess. “Maybe I should stop trying.”
“Never say such a thing, for if you stopped, I would succumb as well. We do this to change the wronging done to us. We cannot be faulted for that.”
She’s right.
“I am sorry for once again involving you in my troubles.”
“There is no need for apologies. I am here because I want to be.”
Silence.
The rippling of water alerts me that she’s coming closer. “Why?”
I can feel her breath on me. That’s how close she is.
“Why what, Princess?”
“Why do you continuously save me? I do not expect it from you. You owe me nothing, so please do not feel obligated in any way.”
“I don’t,” I reply, unable to stop myself. We are treading dangerous waters, for my self-control is slipping.
“Then answer me plainly; why are you here? You could have ridden back to Northumbria once you were well. But you did not. You came here.”
“Emeline,” I warn as she slowly rounds my body so we’re face-to-face.
Under the full moon, she appears like a goddess, and in some ways, I believe that she is, for I am under her spell.
The water is deep so all I can see are her shoulders, but when she removes her chemise, regardless of the fact that the water shields her nakedness, my cock hardens further being this close to her when she is bare.
“My skin prickles all over,” she confesses, biting her pouty bottom lip.
She reaches out and toys with the relic around my neck. It’s Thor’s Mjolnir , one which I wear with pride.
“It’s because of the battle,” I explain softly, gently withdrawing from her touch. “The thrill of it…the blood still pumps intensely in your veins.”
“Does it in yours?”
“Yes.”
She wades the water, watching me closely. “What do you usually do to make this flutter in your belly go away?”
Her innocence will be the death of me.
“I usually go for a swim.”
“And?” she coaxes, knowing there is more.
“And have some ale.”
“What else? Tell me,” she presses lightly when I hesitate.
“And fuck.”
Her cheeks instantly redden as she averts her eyes.
“Have I offended you?”
With her chin downcast, she shakes her head. “What happens when you cannot?”
“Cannot what?” I ask, confused.
“Fuck,” she says with a pause, and that word slipping past her virtuous lips doesn’t help my predicament.
“I usually do not have that problem.”
She lifts her chin, her surprise clear as she understands what this means.
“It’s just physical. It does not mean anything. Cecily understands what being away from her for months at a time means. We do not speak about it, but she knows I seek out the comfort of others when I am away from home.
“A kind touch helps appease the wickedness inside me.”
“What about now? Will you seek out someone to appease you?”
“I will not.”
She paddles closer toward me. “Why not? I am sure many women here would offer themselves to you.”
“Because I do not want any of them,” I snap, instantly regretting the sharpness of my tone.
She purses her lips, moving them from side to side in contemplation. I know what she’s about to say, condemning us both to what she calls hell.
“What about me? Do you feel that way about me?”
“Emeline—”
But she doesn’t let me finish. Instead, she boldly slips her hand under the water and gently takes hold of my cock. Instantly, a pleasured hiss escapes me, and I am powerless to move away.
“Because I want to appease you, Skarth,” she confesses, moving her hand up and down my length. “For it will appease me as well.”
“Please stop,” I plead, for I will not be able to help myself, and if I do this with her, unlike the countless women I’ve been with before, this will mean something. That is why I do not seek anyone out, because Emeline will never just be a warm body to fill the void.
“You do not mean that. I can feel it by the hardness in my hand. You are so well-endowed. The feel of you…it only strengthens my burn,” she breathlessly acknowledges. “Touch me…please, Lord. Help me smother this ache, for I fear I will die if you do not.”
“Emeline, please do not ask this of me.”
“Why?” she asks, increasing the tempo of her strokes as her small hand attempts to cover me from base to tip.
“I do not satisfy you? Tell me what you like.”
“You satisfy me,” I correct, wishing to soothe her worries. “You satisfy me in ways you cannot imagine.”
“Then touch me. I know it will mean nothing, and I accept that.” She lowers her chin.
But she does not understand the effect she has on me.
Lifting her chin with my pointer finger, I confess, “That is where you are wrong. This will mean everything, which is why I need to stop.”
I try to pull away, but she reaches for my hand and places it on her soft breast. Her nipple is erect, and my mouth waters for a taste.
“Do not stop,” she demands, “for if you do not touch me…then I will touch myself.”
My cock twitches at the thought.
“That pleases you? To watch?” she asks, always curious.
“Very much so,” I huskily respond.
This is where we can meet in the middle to help us put out the fire without crossing a line. I want Emeline more than I need air to breathe, but I am afraid if I do this with her, I will lose myself completely to her.
I am not ready for that. And neither is she. She is animated from the fight, and I fear come morning, she will regret her rash decision. I don’t want her to hate me for taking advantage of her in her vulnerable state.
“All right then,” she says, droplets of water sticking to her lips. How I wish to chase them with my tongue. “All I ask is you never look away. I want to look into your eyes.”
“Whatever you wish.”
She removes her hand from me and I from her, and I can’t smother my sigh of disappointment. But when she places the hand which was on my cock between her legs, that disappointment turns to appeal. She locks eyes with me, stroking herself slowly.
Her cheeks redden, but she doesn’t stop.
“I wish it was your fingers inside me,” she professes softly.
“I wish that too. Describe what you feel.”
“I am wet,” she reveals huskily. “That has nothing to do with the water. My—”
She pauses, struggling for the right word.
“ Kunta ,” I offer, and she moans, appearing to approve.
“My… kunta is hot. It feels to be on fire in my hand. It burns me deeply. And I like it.”
“What else?” I encourage, for hearing Emeline speak such filth has me almost losing control.
“My fingers are touching something swollen. It feels…oh.” She gasps, her mouth popping open. “It feels rather delightful.”
“That is your sweetness,” I reveal deeply, “where, if you touch it in just the right way…it will shatter your world.”
“I do not know how.”
“You have never experienced it before?”
She shyly shakes her head. “Is there something wrong with me?”
“No, Princess,” I assure her, angered she’s never been brought to pleasure before. “There is nothing wrong with you. You are perfect.”
“Will you teach me how?”
“Yes.”
Her breaths become quicker as she maintains eye contact.
“Keep touching yourself. How many fingers do you have inside you?”
“One,” she replies, her lower lip quivering.
“I want you to add another,” I instruct, watching for the moment when she does.
“Gramercy!” she cries, her mouth forming an O shape.
“Feel good?”
“Yes. What else?”
Emeline enjoys taking some orders, it seems, and that only makes my cock grow even harder.
“Move your hips.”
She does as the water splashes around her.
“Now, I want you to touch your breasts. I want you to feel what I did.”
She continues working her fingers into her and moves the other hand to cup her full breasts. I’m envious of those fingers touching those soft mounds of perfection.
“Faster,” I order, unable to look away from Emeline pleasuring herself.
Not being able to see entirely is what gets me even harder because it’s so wicked. My mind fills in the blanks, and a throaty groan escapes me.
“Do you…do you like what you see, Lord?” she breathlessly asks, arching that beautiful body.
“Yes, very much.”
“I like what I see too,” she bashfully confesses. “The moonlight reflects the water clinging to your bronzed skin, and it really is enchanting. I also like your hair when you wear it down.”
“It satisfies me to know I please you, Princess.”
“Oh, God have mercy on my soul,” she pants, her rhythm increasing. “Something is happening. I do not understand it.”
“Tell me what.”
“I-I…my body is a bundle of nerves, spinning out of control. I am afraid.”
“Don’t be,” I assure her, never breaking eye contact. “Let it overtake you. I promise…just let go.”
“Please continue to s-speak,” she begs, her body writhing, her mouth parted.
“You are a vision,” I confess, wading closer to her so I can catch her when she falls. “Your body is utter sin. But so is your heart. I want…I ache for you. I munuth you.”
“Please speak to me in your native tongue. I love it when you do.”
She is moments away from experiencing her first la petite mort . And I will do anything she wishes to make it an experience she never forgets.
“ Du er vakker , hjartae mitt .”
“What does it mean?”
Usually, I would not confess what I said, but I cannot deny her. “You are beautiful…my heart.”
Her eyes flutter, but she doesn’t look away. She works herself hungrily, and when I swim closer, closing the space between us and placing my mouth over hers, she does as I commanded and lets go.
I swallow her pleasured screams, kissing her deeply as I want to consume her—every part of her.
Her small body writhes violently, allowing me to dominate her as she surrenders to my touch. Her cries are long, guttural, and I like that she was able to experience this because of me. She tastes sweet, and I am addicted to the taste—to her.
Her raspy breaths tangle with mine, and for this moment in time, we are one.
With a gasp, she collapses against my chest, attempting to catch her breath. I wrap an arm around her, running my fingers up and down her back.
“Thank you,” she pants, snuggling close, and although we’re both naked, there is something more to this moment than just a physical connection…and I know that will be our downfall.
But for now, I enjoy the feel of my woman in my arms. Because come tomorrow, I know things won’t be as simple as this.
I’ve stayed away from Ulf because I can’t control my temper around him. We may be forced to work together, but that doesn’t mean I have to talk to him.
We have gathered everything and are on the move, leaving Ulf’s kingdom, Skalavik, behind. I know it pains him, for the soil was rich and his kinsmen had built a home for themselves there.
But knowing Carhampton will be his new home softens the loss.
We are on the move to another village where our people have settled. I expect my arrival won’t be welcomed, but I’m not here to rekindle what once was as I have bigger plans.
While Ulf and others have their sights set on Carhampton, I’m thinking somewhere bigger.
Being in service to King Eanred has taught me many things. It’s taught me that Eoforwic in Northumbria has far greater value than most lands combined. And beyond England, Frankia.
These are two places I wish to conquer, but all in good time. For I know to invade Eoforwic, I will have to overthrow Emeline’s father and brother.
We’ve not discussed what happened last night.
She timidly unfurled herself from my arms and walked to the bank, dressing in my shirt as her chemise was lost. I didn’t go back to Skalavik . Instead, I slept outside under the stars.
She has kept her distance since then, which I assumed she would.
What we did last night changes things, and I think she needs time to process. For me, it only strengthened my desire for her. I hunger for her, and it’s only getting worse.
But I cannot act on impulse. I need to be smart. The best thing for Emeline is for me to fight with a clear head, for her life depends on it.
And that is why I do not acknowledge her, for what can I offer her? I’m married and have a life with Cecily in Northumbria. I would not do that to Emeline or Cecily.
But when I look at Emeline, all I can see is her bountiful body twisting in pleasure, and all I hear are her breathless cries.
“Straggling behind everyone else? The battle got the better of you, vinr ?” Ulf says, his voice ruining whatever happiness I felt.
“I am not your friend,” I state, refusing to look at him as we trudge through the mud. “And I think you are the one who was beaten and by Wessex Guard, no less. What would the gods think?”
I don’t mask my ridicule, which infuriates him.
He’s lucky the stab wound he received wasn’t fatal. I’m surprised he got injured in the first place because even though I would never admit this to anyone, especially Ulf, he is as good a warrior as I am. Which is why we were unstoppable when we fought side by side.
I wonder where his father, Sten, is. His father and mine were good friends, as Ulf and I once were.
“And what would the gods think that you chose a Saxon over your sister?”
Ulf and Sigrith were once in love. This is what she tells me, for Ulf never admitted his feelings. But his bitter response to her being left at the palace is all the answer I need.
With a menacing growl, I turn toward him.
He smirks in response. “I understand the interest, however. She tastes as sweet as she looks.”
Time suddenly stands still.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me,” he replies smugly, supporting his wounded arm, which is bandaged. “It was my bed she lay in before you came to rescue what is yours .”
“You lie.”
“I do not. Ask her if you doubt me.”
I suddenly feel like I cannot breathe for the thought of Emeline and Ulf together…it makes me beyond murderous.
“Ah, we are here,” Ulf says, knowing what his revelation has done to me.
I clench my fists, for now is not the time as we have arrived at Kleifar , a village settled by my people. It was plundered from Saxon folk, which means the king’s men can attack at any moment, especially once word reaches the palace about Emeline’s capture.
We cannot stay here for long.
“Ulf!” Gorm happily says, running toward him.
Gorm is Ulf’s uncle. He was also a friend of my father’s, so when he sees me, he doesn’t hide his distaste that I’m here.
“Why is the traitor here?” he asks Ulf, refusing to acknowledge me.
“He has finally decided to do the right thing.”
Gorm curls his lip. “It is too late, for he has already pissed on his father’s, Gunder Bloodaxe’s, memory by becoming King Eanred’s dog.”
“I am no one’s dog, Gorm,” I grimly state.
“No?” he questions, his orange eyebrows rising in contempt. “Have you avenged your family like you said you would? Are your mother and sister no longer slaves to the Saxon eldhúsfífls ? And what of your brother, Knud? Does he see through his eyes because of your sacrifice ?”
I do not know where Knud is as he left on a ship one night and has never been heard from since. I was told he returned to our homeland, but I cannot know for certain. He wanted to forget this place and those who remained here.
“A man who waits will eat the ripened fruit,” I say because I knew this quest would take patience and resilience.
I don’t expect Gorm or Ulf to understand it because it wasn’t their family who was destroyed. It wasn’t their lives or names they ruined all in the name of revenge.
“I can see what ripened fruit you bring,” Gorm says, peering at Emeline, who helps a child down from a horse.
It surprises me when Ulf responds before I can. “She is not to be harmed.”
His stance is quite firm but soon relaxes when he notices me looking at him inquisitively. Why does he feel the need to jump to her defense? Could it be true? Did Emeline share his bed, after all?
The rage I feel intensifies, and I leave Gorm and Ulf alone before I go back on my word.
Gorm’s village is vast, and the faces are ones I recognize. They were ones who once belonged to my father’s clan. With his death, our people separated and formed smaller colonies, it seems. But they remember, regardless of the new families established.
As I walk past them, they spit at my feet or mutter under their breaths how I am not welcome here. If it weren’t for Emeline, I would not have come. But I fear I’ve misread her feelings.
When we lock eyes, she smiles timidly. The first sign of acknowledgment all day.
In response, I turn my back and commence unpacking the weapons from the cart.
Ulf now beds Inga, which is why she has taken a dislike toward Emeline. This is further confirmation of Ulf’s claims.
I need to hit something and hit it hard.
“Look, it’s Skarth the Cowardly,” says Orm, Gorm’s son, to his friend.
He was just a boy when I left. Although grown, he’s still a pup as he has no idea what he just started.
It appears the gods smile down on me.
“And it’s Orm the Smelly,” I counter as I remember quite well when he shit himself when he came face-to-face with a bear.
His cheeks redden as his friend, whose name I cannot recall, snickers under his breath. But this has merely shown me his weakness as well, for what friend wouldn’t defend his friend’s honor?
With shield and sword in hand, I toss one to Orm and his friend. They fumble but catch them. They look on, confused, while an amused chuckle leaves me.
“Are these your bravest warriors, Gorm?” I question, thumbing my bottom lip in scrutiny. “I fear we are doomed if this is true.”
Gorm storms forward, angered. Ulf smirks at my boldness.
Orm doesn’t appreciate me laughing at his expense and charges for me with a roar. I stand solid, and when he swings his sword, I punch him square in the nose. The sword drops from his hand as he cups his broken nose, where I then punch him in the stomach.
His friend now finds his bellir and comes rushing toward me, shield raised, but I strike out and kick him in the knee. He topples over, howling in pain, while I yawn, bored by this spectacle.
“Get up!” Gorm orders, standing close by and watching in disgust as his son squirms on his back like a bug.
“It may be better if he stays down there,” I tease. “I would not want him to fall over his feet trying to get back up.”
The village erupts into laughter, but that soon dies when I address the issue of why I’m here.
“No matter what you think of me, I am your best hope at getting what you want,” I state, eyeing everyone closely. “We left our homelands to better our lives, but is this enough?”
I spread my arms out wide.
“We plunder these lands, but we are always at risk of an attack from the Saxons, wanting to claim back what is theirs. I wish for that to change, and we have the opportunity to do that.”
No one dares speak.
“We will take Carhampton in three weeks’ time, which will show the Saxons who we really are. We are not going anywhere. We are here to stay! They can either come to an agreement with us, or…we kill them.”
The kinsfolk erupt into loud clapping and howls of approval.
“The gods tell us to be brave, to fight for what we want, and what I want is to make Wessex suffer! To see her bleed!
“Northumbria is weak, as are the other kingdoms. Wessex is who we fight against. But to win, we need men and women who are willing to fight for our future. Warriors who are willing to die for our cause. I cannot do this alone. But I am willing to teach you how to defeat a Saxon army, for I am a traitor, after all,” I say, wanting everyone to know that if they do this, they’ll be obeying an absconder, something which will displease them every single day.
“But being a traitor has allowed me to gain knowledge and power, and it’s because of this…we will win. King Egbert does not know of our fighting style, but King Eanred does. King Egbert will combine forces with Northumbria, for we have something both kings want.”
I meet Emeline’s eyes.
She stands alone, the fear etched on her beautiful face, the face which will haunt me to the end of days, for she knows what this means. She will not only have Wessex fighting for her return but Northumbria as well.
“We have Princess Emeline, who is King Eanred’s daughter. But…she is also in favor with King Egbert. She was once the future Queen of Wessex. Both kings will do anything for her return.”
I don’t want to put her in harm’s way, but the men and women need to know what they’re fighting for.
This was the reason I wanted no part in this war because whichever way we approach this, Emeline loses. My people will look at her as payment, as will the kings of this realm. She is wanted by all, which puts her life at risk.
She can be used as collateral by everyone as she holds value to all. Therefore, I have no other choice but to guard her with my life. There may be no freedom for her, which means the only mercy I can grant her would be death by my sword.
My heart shatters at the thought, but the decision was made before she was born when her father struck a deal for his own selfish gain.
Her price is far greater than any riches this nation has ever seen, and men and women will exploit that. I can’t trust anyone with her safety, which means I need to protect the woman who torments me in ways I cannot explain.
It aches to be near her, for she is a temptation I cannot have, but I cannot leave her side. I am forced to smother these feelings I have for her because her safety is all that matters. I cannot ensure that if my feelings are involved. I will not fight with a clear head if I do.
Emotions make a man weak, they cloud one’s mind, and I will not endanger Emeline in that way. I am the only person who will fight for her because of…love. And it’s because of that that I must push her away. I cannot allow another incident like last night to occur as this will give Emeline mixed signals. I am here to ensure no harm comes to her and nothing more.
I need to remind her I am nothing more than a depraved heathen and not the man who loves her with every beat of his heart.
“The princess is willing to help us as she has offered herself as a trade,” I reveal, breaking eye contact with her because I fear I will go back on my word otherwise. “Which means…she is not to be harmed. We need her to succeed.”
I hate referring to her as nothing but an object, but this is the only way to make them understand.
“Without her, King Egbert will win. Without me, he will win. So, here, now, I ask that you pledge your loyalty to me, Skarth Gundersen…son of Gunder Bloodaxe. I know you do not like me, and that is all right…for I do not like you either.
“But we need one another. The choice is yours, for once you make it, it will be sworn before the gods and will be punished if you disobey them. Make the right choice as our gods are not forgiving…and neither am I.”
It’s a warning—their first and only one.
If they betray me, if they hurt Emeline, I will kill them and kill them brutally.
Ulf is the first man to step forward and clasp my lower arm—our custom that he agrees to my terms. Of course, he does, as once this deal is done, he will be a very powerful man.
As for me, I merely wish to be left alone.
The men and women soon follow Ulf’s lead, clasping my forearm as a sign of respect and promise. Although they pledge alliance with reluctance, they know I am their best hope at winning.
Emeline is last in line, and although she is not a Viking, she wants to show her respect. All eyes are on us as she stands before me. I expect her to extend the same acceptance as others, but instead, she curtseys.
“I am your humble servant, Lord.”
Hearing her submission just adds to the longing inside my chest, but I nod firmly. “Good because, for once, you are going to do what you’re told.”
Her emerald eyes snap up, livid that I would speak to her this way. But this is how every exchange will occur from now on. In order to survive, she has to fear me and the consequences she faces if she doesn’t obey me. I see now that I must rule with cruelness to curb her rebellion.
If she thinks I have a weakness for her, she’ll believe I will be lenient and that she can do whatever she pleases. But I cannot allow it. She will hate me come the battle of Carhampton. It’s the only way to keep her alive.
Ulf smirks as he knows how it pains me to treat her this way. I have no doubt he’ll offer her comfort—again. Just the thought has me dismissing her with a wave of my hand.
It’s time for the princess to see why they call me Skarth the Godless.