Page 1 of Claimed By the Viking

CHAPTER 1

The fourth day of the men’s sojourn on the island

“Still asleep!”With her hands upon her hips, Ulva loomed over the man who lay sprawled upon the makeshift bed. ‘Twas near noon, and warmth flooded through the open door of their shared home. “One small knock on the head is no excuse to laze about for who knows how long!”

Though Signy lacked some hearing, her mother spoke loudly enough for the comment to carry to her daughter’s good ear. Signy didn’t bother answering. Instead, kneeling beside the poor soul, she continued pressing water to his lips, sending up a prayer with each tip of the spoon.

Please, Freyja, let him open his eyes and see me. Let me hear his voice.

Since his arrival, ‘twas a ritual she’d performed numerous times each day—sometimes with broth, but mostly with water, gently caressing his throat with each attempt, encouraging him to swallow. She’d done so untiringly, having faith he’d eventually awake. It seemed wrong to be impatient, but she was eager toknow what sort of man he was, who was to live with her these coming cycles of the moon.

Not merely living but giving me a child.

The thought was both frightening and exciting.

Her mother had explained what the getting of the child would involve, and it seemed straightforward. Then, her belly would grow until the child was ready to join the world.

That was something Signy could not quite picture, and her mother had been scant on the details, but perhaps it was for the best. She knew it would be painful, and who wanted to spend time imagining something unpleasant? Better to keep in mind the gift she’d have afterward—her own little girl or boy to sing to and rock and keep safe.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering!” Ulva made an exasperated sound. “The purpose we require him for doesn’t necessitate him being conscious. Better if he isn’t, in fact! I’ve told you enough times! Your hand would be put to better use down hisbraies, pumping his staff to a state you might climb upon. ‘Twill take only a few strokes to do the job.”

“Móðir!” Signy glared at her. “He’ll wake soon enough. I know he will, and then you must trust me to behave as I should.”

“Pfft!” Her mother folded her arms. “See that you do, and remember what I told you. ‘Tis only his seed you’re after, so don’t go getting ideas about being in love or any such nonsense simply because you think him handsome.”

Signy gave an inward groan.

As if I’ll fall in love!

From what she knew, it was a fleeting emotion without true substance. Hadn’t Cousin Grethe thought herself in love with Signy’s brother, and look how that had ended?

Sven had abandoned Grethe, just as Signy’s father had cast aside her and her mother. Those supposed ties of love had meant nothing when the men of the island had succumbed to illness,then taken it into their heads that the women were the cause of their woes.

There had hardly been a backward glance from Sven—not for Grethe nor his mother and sister.

As for thinking the stranger handsome, there was no denying that he was pleasing to look at, with strong features, curving, full lips, and a beard cut neatly to his jaw. His hair was a few shades darker than her own, falling in thick waves, and he’d a sturdy body, too, as she’d seen while helping her mother remove his sea-soaked garments.

His chest was dusted with soft hair. Meanwhile, the lower half, leading down toward his manhood, was ridged hard. Her mother had seemed quite impressed by that, gazing there far longer than was seemly, as well as upon what lay between the stranger’s legs.

The muscles of his arms and back were of a size that her father’s old tunic barely fitted—and he’d been of no small stature. Not that her mother had wanted to put clothes on the stranger at all. She’d said it was better to keep him naked, given the reason for him being there.

Signy had insisted upon the clothes.

‘Twas only decent!

She’d put her foot down about restraining him, too, at least for the moment—for what purpose could it serve when the man was too weak even to look about him? ‘Twas not like Signy to speak so forcefully, but in this, she was adamant.

Her mother had appeared taken aback, for only once had Signy steadfastly denied a command. Her father had tried to persuade her into Jarl Einar’s bed, telling her it was the way to make him cast off his wife and take her instead. Her mother had done naught to speak on Signy’s behalf, though she knew her revulsion for the plan.

Her father had beaten her for it, and Signy wondered if she’d have given in, eventually. In more ways than she wished to admit, it had been a relief when the sickness came, and both Einar and her father had fled the island with the other surviving men.

But I’m no more a child. I have a voice, and I must use it. For what sort of mother will I be when I’ve a babe of my own if I don’t stand up for what I think is right?

“Worry not,Móðir.” Signy rose to her feet. “However fair of face he is, I shan’t be losing my head. I’ll do what I must, then Bothild may allocate him to another. I expect nothing more.”

“There’s some sense in you then.” Ulva nodded. “Only take care to keep the rope nearby. As soon as the fellow shows signs of stirring, he must be tied, or who knows what may befall us.”

Signy sighed. ‘Twas not as she’d wish it, but there would be little choice in that matter once the stranger woke. Elin was certain he bore no injury other than the swelling above his temple and a few small grazes. To leave him unbound would be far too dangerous. They’d no knowledge, as yet, of the stranger’s temperament, and who could say how he’d react to his new circumstances?

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