Sixteen
Skarth the Godless
I left Emeline sleeping soundly by the fire as I went to hunt. I hate to admit that leaving her was harder than I thought. After last night, I know things between us have changed.
Whether for the good or bad—I still do not know.
I thought my heart was about to burst from my chest when she was about to confess her love for me. I stopped her because those words cannot ever be taken back, and I fear if she said them, I would be lost forever.
But this ache in my chest reveals I already am.
I don’t know what will happen at Carhampton. If I survive, I don’t know if I will return to Northumbria. Or if I will venture on my quest to explore England and beyond.
But what I do know is that I will protect Emeline with my life.
I think of my wife and how I have wronged her, for I cannot return to her as her husband. She will despise me for what I’ve done, which is why I have to set her free.
Life has been thrown into chaos, but the only thing that makes sense in this turmoil has given herself over to me willingly. I have been with many women before, but with Emeline, I was ruined from the very first touch.
The way her body fits with mine—it seems almost as if she were made for me. I like that thought.
With my catch of fish and berries in hand, I make my way toward the cave, wondering how Emeline will feel after last night. I know confusion will plague her because she will want to know what this means for us.
I enter and find her standing by the fire, dressed.
It’s a shame to cover such perfection even though I know she doesn’t see herself that way. The scars on her back have faded with time, but my vengeance has not. Aethelred will pay for what he did to Emeline with his life.
I know he and King Eanred will be at Carhampton, as everyone will be fighting to win Emeline back, and this is why I need to keep her far away from the battle. She will want to fight, but she cannot.
She will hate me for suggesting she needs to be as far away from the battle as possible, but if she is captured, they won’t allow her to escape the next time around. She will forever be imprisoned in Wessex or Northumbria, and I fear I won’t be able to save her.
The moment she meets my eyes, her cheeks flush. The sight stirs my longing, but I need to focus on what’s important, and that’s feeding my princess and then leaving this place. We have already been here for far too long.
“Good morning, Princess.”
She smiles, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. “Good morrow.”
I want to kiss her, but instead, I busy myself preparing the fish I caught. After I skewer them onto a branch, I place them over the fire to cook. Emeline stands across me, watching me with those curious eyes.
“Once we eat, we have to leave,” I inform her, turning the fish over.
“Yes, of course. Will we meet Ulf at Carhampton?”
This would be the logical thing to do, but I have no intention of her stepping foot there.
“Skarth?” she questions when I don’t reply.
“Eat,” I instead say, offering her a fish and some berries over the fire.
“I will eat once you answer me,” she stubbornly rebukes. “Backtracking to Kleifar does not make sense. We should proceed forward, not backward. A larger group is more likely to be seen. But if it’s just us—”
Her voice trails off when she realizes why I have not addressed her.
“Unless, unless you have no intention of me going to Carhampton. Is that so?”
I simply stare at her.
“You arrogant charlatan!” she cries, angered. “You will allow Northman women to fight, but not me? Am I not fitting enough to fight in your army?”
“You cannot be anywhere near Carhampton,” I state, removing the fish from the fire. “It is too dangerous.”
“I am well aware of what it is. I was the one who formulated this plan, remember? I know of the consequences, and I accept them. I will be fighting alongside you, whether you like it or not.”
I’m not surprised she’s reacted this way. Taking this right away from her is wrong, as she deserves her vengeance, but I can’t fight and win if I am constantly looking over my shoulder for her.
This battle is one she has never seen before. It will be larger than any battle I have ever fought in. Of that, I’m sure.
“You cannot stop me, Skarth,” she says, knowing that regardless of her wishes, I will ensure she is far away from Carhampton.
“Yes, Princess,” I calmly refute, “I can.”
Her eyes narrow into slits.
“Now, eat.” I make clear this isn’t optional when I toss a fish at her.
She catches it and angrily picks at the flesh before placing some meat into her mouth. She chews distractedly as I know her shrewd mind is formulating a plan.
She doesn’t speak further, and we eat in silence. The air is so thick, I fear what happened last night is now shadowed by Emeline’s anger. She will come to realize why I’m doing this—eventually.
Once we have eaten, I prepare for our departure.
Emeline isn’t reckless. She won’t run. She will, however, fight me until I concede, which will be never. When we return to Ulf, I will tell him that the only way to keep Emeline safe is to put her on a ship.
King Egbert will never suspect she’s hiding at sea, as I believe he will search the lands high and low for her. If trouble faces her, then at least she has a fighting chance at survival being at sea. She can sail away to uncharted water by the Saxons, but not to my men.
If her life is at risk, then I will command the men to take her to my home country, where she will be safe under my protection. I will then meet her there.
Ulf will agree because as much as it angers me, I know he cares for Emeline more than he should. He will want to keep her safe, but he will also want victory at Carhampton. Which is why we need to devise a plan on how we intend to do that and keep Emeline safe.
King Egbert needs to believe we want no war, and for that to happen, he will need to see Emeline on the battlefield. But she will be far away from him.
Emeline continues to ignore me as she mounts the horse and grips my waist. There is no tenderness to her touch. She merely holds on so she doesn’t fall off.
Clucking my tongue, we ride toward where Ulf and the kinsfolk will be. They’re on the move, but I know Ulf and this landscape. We will reach him in a day’s time. Until then, all that surrounds us is the galloping of my horse’s hooves and the uncomfortable silence.
We keep to the secret tracks, shrouded by the thick foliage and towering trees. Wessex Guard can be anywhere, and after last night’s encounter with two of them, it’s evident they are out for blood.
Emeline can look after herself—her chewing off a man’s cock proves this—but what happens if her luck runs out? I’m having these thoughts because I do feel guilty for denying her this fight. Only with her. If this were anyone else, I wouldn’t be questioning my decision.
But Emeline has me questioning my very existence.
“Over there,” she whispers, disturbing my thoughts with her panicked voice.
I follow her finger as she points above the hill. In the distance, Wessex Guard awaits.
Tugging the reins on my horse, I coax him to stop and silence our presence. There’s nowhere to hide on horseback. Quickly jumping down, I offer her my hand, which she accepts, and we crouch low, using the horse as a shield.
“What are they doing this far away from the palace? King Egbert’s men never venture this way,” she whispers as we peer around the horse and at the men.
“Nowhere is too far while you are still out here,” I reply, examining how many men lie in wait. “He is sending out smaller groups of men instead of a large army.”
“Why?”
“To cover more ground this way,” I disclose, frustrated. “Every corner we turn, there will be men waiting. It makes it harder for us to remain hidden this way.”
She senses my annoyance. “So, we are doomed?”
Turning to look at her, I give in to instinct and gently skim my thumb across the apple of her cheek. A small whimper escapes her.
“This is merely a challenge, Princess. One we will overcome.”
“How?”
“We give them what they want.”
Her breaths are measured when she asks, “And what is that?”
Thumbing over her bottom lip, I whisper, “You.”
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t have time to speak as I call out, “I have Princess Emeline!”
The guards instantly spring into action, searching where the voice has come from.
I grip Emeline by the back of the neck. “Down here!”
“What are you doing?” she cries, slapping my hand and attempting to break free. “Skarth! Let me go!”
Her yelps draw the guards’ attention, who instantly rush down the hill, swords raised, prepared for battle. But when they see a terrified Emeline, their hostility simmers. They come to a stop a few feet away. There are six of them.
They watch me with untrustworthy eyes while I raise my free hand in surrender. “I just want a trade. Fifty pieces of silver for the princess.”
“You insufferable bastard!” Emeline exclaims, squirming madly.
The guards laugh, their fight dwindling as they no longer sense a threat.
“Is this all of you? No other men fight with you up on that hill?”
One guard shakes his head with a snicker. “It is just us, and we don’t have any silver to trade.”
“Well, I will settle for your sword instead.”
They look back and forth at each other, unsure if this is a trick or not.
“A sword?” Emeline scoffs. “Is that all I’m worth to you? Filthy heathen!”
“At least the sword does what it is told,” I quip, chuckling as she stomps her foot in anger.
“All right. Give me the princess, and I will give you my sword,” the guard says.
But I shake my head.
“We exchange together. I hand over the princess, and you toss over the sword.”
“I cannot believe you are doing this. I will find you and kill you myself. I swear it,” Emeline snarls while I raise my eyes to the heavens.
Even in the face of danger, she wishes for my death. How her spirit rouses me.
With sword in hand, the guard nods and waits for my command, but I know he has no intention of letting me leave here with his sword or my life. Once the exchange is made, they will attack, as they believe they have the numbers.
But they have no idea who they’re fighting against. And I don’t merely mean me.
With a sharp nod, I release Emeline, who turns around, ready to slap my cheek, but when the guard tosses his sword, and it lands by her feet, I duck low and reach for it.
“I’d at least ask for one hundred pieces of silver, Princess,” I quickly quip, pressing the handle of the sword into her hand to stop her from striking me.
“You cunning bastard,” she exclaims, but thankfully her scorn can wait until after we kill these fífls .
Withdrawing my sword from its sheath, I advance, catching the guard unawares as I slice off his head in one swift stroke. It rolls along the ground, coming to a stop as it crashes into the boot of one of his friends.
They realize they’ve been tricked and spring into action, but what they don’t expect is Emeline’s wrath. With an animalistic roar, she charges for them, stabbing one right through the stomach. She withdraws her bloody sword, the body of the man she just killed not even dropping to the ground before attacking the next.
Watching her fight is a carnal sight, stirring lewd cravings which I cannot control. I’ll welcome her fury once these guards are dead, as I know she will be one wrathful princess with a lot of pent-up anger she’ll need to expel.
Emeline and I work together, two guards each. I don’t dare steal her revenge. We focus on the men who fight for their lives. But they’re no match for us.
I stab one through the heart. Emeline cuts off one man’s head. The remaining two decide to attack Emeline, but I spin and slice one of them across the back. He falls to his knees where I swing, and with my razor-sharp sword, I slice him in two.
The last man attacks Emeline, who fends him off with ease, and I stand back, watching the princess play with him. She dodges his attacks with laughter, her loose hair catching the wind. She is simply beautiful.
When we lock eyes, I know what is about to transpire, and I will happily accept my punishment. The guard charges at her with a snarl, but she spins, her sword raised, and delivers a fatal blow across his back.
The gurgling of blood catches the wind, followed by his pained oof as he collapses onto his front. The bloody corpses of the men we slaughtered surround us, but it doesn’t make a difference to Emeline as she tramples over their bodies.
I stand motionless, slathered in the enemy’s blood as she rushes for me and slams her mouth over mine. Her body is trembling, but it has nothing to do with fear. The battle has aroused her, and she wants to unwind by using me in the most carnal of ways.
I allow her to dominate me.
She stands on her toes, wrapping a hand around my nape to hold me prisoner as she devours me wildly. She uses her anger to punish me with her brutal kisses, and when she threads her fingers through my hair, she yanks my head back.
Her dominance has my cock instantly hardening, and when she rubs herself against me, I know kissing is not enough. She severs our union and then slaps my cheek with a snarl.
“That is for tricking me.”
A feral grin is my response, which infuriates Emeline further.
She shoves me onto my back before diving on top of me and straddling me. She frantically works at my trousers, her impatience only making me harder. When my cock springs free and she grips my length, a moan slips past my lips because she isn’t gentle.
Her small hand grasps me tightly as she moves up and down.
I am her prisoner and watch with hunger as she lifts her hips and raises the hem of her dress. She positions her cunt over me and doesn’t need any encouragement as she lowers herself onto my length. She takes me whole while I arch my neck, watching her use me in the most wicked of ways.
When I’m buried to the hilt, she begins to move wildly.
She uses my chest as reins as she holds on tight, milking her pleasure from me as she rides me hard. She finds her rhythm, bouncing, rocking, never apologizing for taking what she wants. I grip her thighs, coaxing her to move faster.
She bows her back, fucking me hard, and when she lifts her hips, only to slam back down so I hit her deeply, I realize she’s eager for a quick release.
I tear at the laces on the front of her dress, causing her heavy breasts to spill free. They bounce with her untamed movements, and I run my thumb over her erect nipple before cupping her breast in my palm. I know she likes it when I touch her breasts, so I fondle them with passion.
Her milky flesh is perfect, and it kills me to simply lie here when I want her on all fours as I fuck her from behind. But this is Emeline’s chance to display dominance. Her chance for retribution for not being privy to my plans.
“You will not,” she pants, rocking on me roguishly. “You will not do that to me ever again.”
Before I can reply, she rummages for a dead guard’s knife and presses it to my throat as she continues to fuck me hungrily.
“Say it,” she commands, digging the blade in deeper, so deep, I feel a trickle of blood spill from the wound.
“I will not trick you ever again, Princess,” I state slowly, allowing her to abuse me brutally, because I like it.
“You will never lie to me again.” Her body is quivering around me.
“I will never lie to you again.”
“And I will be fighting at Carhampton. Say it.”
Her words are as heavy with craving as her movements as she increases the tempo.
“Say it!”
Arching my neck, she gasps, eyes wide because her blade digs deeper into my neck, cutting me.
“Skarth!”
But I don’t stop, and when I feel the blade sink in farther, I grip her hand, holding her prisoner as she tries to yank free in fear that she’s hurting me.
“I promised not to lie to you, Princess. Therefore, I will not say it.”
Her skin turns a sweet pink, and I know she is close to chasing her release. “You stubborn h-heathen,” she pants as I thrust my hips, meeting her strokes brutally.
She bounces on my lap, and when her body grows lax, I pry the blade from her hand and toss it aside. “I will protect you with my life, Emeline. I protect what is mine.”
“I am yours?” she questions, her body writhing.
“Yes, you always have been. Even when we were stupid to believe otherwise. We are joined as one—in all the ways that there are.”
She rocks against me, a sated cry leaving her as she releases long and hard. She is so beautiful when she lets go, for her vulnerability reveals her true strength.
The moment her trembles cease, I lift her and position her onto all fours. With her plump arse in my face, I reenter her viciously and chase my release, condemning us both to the place she calls hell.
It’s nightfall, which gives me some sense of peace.
We made it through another day.
Today confirmed we will be hunted until the battle at Carhampton. King Egbert will do anything to find Emeline, which means he wishes to avoid a war. He hopes that Emeline will be found beforehand so innocent men won’t be slain over a war which I’m certain hasn’t pleased the Witan.
They would rather let Northumbria deal with her.
But King Egbert’s obsession with Emeline won’t allow it. He wants her back, lost to the notion that she is in love with him. As for Prince Aethelwulf, he merely seeks revenge. If Emeline is captured, no matter that she will have the king’s protection, she won’t live to see her nineteenth year.
Emeline is in danger in Wessex and Northumbria. She has nowhere to go, which is why I must protect her.
We’ve both been silent, lost to our thoughts. No doubt, Emeline is conspiring ways to change my mind. But I will not be swayed. The more thought I give to it, the more it makes sense that Emeline is to leave this country and make a life for herself in Scandinavia until we can figure out a plan where it’s safe for her to return.
She is still the Princess of Northumbria, and I’m certain she will want to claim that birthright. She will happily fight her brother for governance. But a woman challenging a man…I don’t know if it can be done.
What I do know is that nowhere is safe for her at the moment.
“How do you know where Ulf will be?” Emeline asks, breaking the silence.
She wraps her arms tighter around my waist, nestling into my back.
Peering overhead, I look at the bright star which has guided my people over turbulent seas and when lost in a foreign land.
“North of the stars,” she softly says. “Just like us.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been called many names by the Saxons: heathens, Danes, The Ungodly, Sea Wolves, and Northmen. Your home is north of here, I assume?” she wisely says. “Seems we’re both connected to the north then.
“Both of our homes are north of the stars.”
“My home…it’s with you, Emeline,” I confess, needing her to understand why I wish for her to go to Scandinavia.
“But what about Cecily?”
“That is something I am yet to figure out.”
“We were fated from the moment we met,” she whispers.
“Yes, Princess, we were, and that is why I cannot allow anything to happen to you. I know you want to fight at Carhampton, but I ask that you do as you are told. Please.”
A small sigh leaves her. “And what am I to be told?”
“It’s safer for you at sea than it is for you on land. I ask that you sail to my motherland, Scandinavia, until we can work out a plan where you can return here safely.
“Northumbria is your home, but you cannot go back there, not now. Your brother will have you killed. Or your father will just send you back here. You are a fugitive wherever you stay.”
“What of the other kingdoms? The realm is rich. I could start anew in East Anglia or Mercia.”
“What do you think will happen when word spreads that a princess inhabits their land?” I pose. “You are valuable to so many.”
“That is all I seem to be,” she sadly replies, pressing her cheek between my shoulder blades. “Just someone’s collateral to better their life, not caring that they are ruining mine.”
Rubbing over her hand tucked around my waist, I confess, “You are so much more to me than that.”
She doesn’t speak, and I hope that’s because I’ve given her something to think about.
We ride in silence until I hear faint voices in the distance. Ulf is here.
I’m not sure how I’m going to contain myself from cutting out his eyeballs if he looks at Emeline the wrong way. I already want to rip out his tongue for kissing her.
It does bother me that she returned his kisses.
But I can’t be mad at her. I am married, after all.
We ride toward the temporary camp and are welcomed with a riotous cheer. The men and women are only happy because as Emeline said, they see her as their collateral. She huddles closer to me as she too understands the risks of her being back here.
“How did the guards find me?” she asks, as all she remembers is being knocked out cold.
“Dova, the wife of the husband you killed,” I plainly reply. “She told the guards where to find you. It was her retribution for what you did to Bo.”
“What did you do to her?”
Emeline knows what, but she wishes for me to say it aloud.
“I killed her.”
“And Erik?”
“He lives for now.”
She doesn’t ask any more questions.
I make eye contact with Inga, who smiles. Not the response I was anticipating. Something is wrong. I jump down from the horse and offer Emeline my hand.
Until I find Ulf, I’m not letting her out of my sight.
She places her hand in mine, and the moment her feet hit the ground, she gasps, eyes wide as she stares behind me.
On instinct, I spin around and protect her with my body as I gauge what the threat is. But this isn’t a threat. This is my karma.
“Skarth,” Ulf says with a smirk, arms out wide, walking toward us. “I am so happy you are back. We were worried.”
But I can’t look at him because if I do, I will kill him.
“What are you doing here?”
She flinches, and I realize my tone is sharp.
“She missed you,” Ulf replies for her. “And she also wanted to tell you the good news.”
“What good news?”
Emeline grips the back of my vest, sensing everything is about to change once again.
She steps forward and pulls back her long black cloak, exposing her swollen stomach—swollen with my child.
“You are going to be a father,” Cecily says, her half smile revealing she senses this reunion is far from a happy one. “I am with child.”
Emeline loosens her grip and takes a step back while I stare at my wife and unborn child, speechless.
How things have now changed…