Page 33 of Viking Warriors: Vol. 1-3
Despite these gestures of affection, his gaze strayed towards me as I joined them. He lay back on the goatskins about the firepit, taking up his horn of ale, and I felt him linger over the curve of my breast. I paid no heed, but Faline caught his look, her face drawn bitter. I hoped only that Asta did not notice such things.
We’d eaten well and the flames blazed. It was easier to bear the incessant moaning of the wind when we were comfortable inside. I closed my eyes and lay back my head upon Eirik’s chest. We were a small gathering that night, only Helka and Olaf being with us.
I’d thought Asta would choose a love ballad. Instead, her voice filled the great space of the longhouse with an ominous tale, of the long winter coming, when all would freeze and wither. Her haunting melody unwound the threads of the doom of the gods and the horror which would overwhelm the world. The great wolf Fenrir would break its bonds and its jaws would ravage, until even the sun was dragged into the beast’s belly. With the beast’s last howl, the land would sink beneath the sea, into perfect silence.
We neither moved nor spoke as Asta’s melancholy song rang out those dark prophecies ofRagnarök, but it seemed a shadow moved through the room, touching each one of us.
The last notes of the lute left us with the moan of the night wind beyond the safety of our walls, and we took our forebodings to our beds.
11
For so long, I’d slept against the warmth of Eirik’s body and woken to his heated passion. My need was as great as his and not just by night. Eirik sought me out in whatever task I was engaged. Wrapping his arms about my waist, he melted me with his bearded kisses, his mouth hot upon my neck, before carrying me to his bed.
I watched and waited for my belly to grow, desiring motherhood as I never had with the husband I did not love, the husband Eirik’s men had slaughtered. I remembered creeping from my bed as he snored, washing him from me to avoid a baby coming.
Eirik seemed blind to Faline’s seductive glances, given as much to spite me as to gain him for herself. In this, and in his constant yearning for the comfort of my body, I saw love.
Helka ate with us most days, though she preferred her own company more often than not. She often retreated to the home she’d shared with her husband, Vigrid. Asta was sleeping a great deal and I’d just tucked the covers about her shoulders. Walking through the great hall, I passed Eirik, sharpening the steel of his double-bladed axe, sitting by the fire with Olaf and Gunnolf and several of the other men. I didn’t need to glance behind to know that his eyes followed, that he was already thinking of the ways in which he would take me.
Later that evening, as I undressed for bed, I listened to their voices: raised in laughter, fists thumping upon backs in brotherhood—these Northmen who fought at one another’s side. They were recalling some battle and their various braveries. It was the sort of talk Eirik loved, but he would soon come to me, I knew.
Lying naked upon the furs, my bare skin tantalized by their softness, I stroked between my legs. Dipping into the growing wet, I thought of Eirik’s battle-born vigour, the hardness of his body and his warrior strength.
Blood-hungry weapons filled the chamber: his iron-headed spear, a light crossbow, feathered arrows as long as my arm, the helmet of leather and steel that fitted smooth to Eirik’s head, and his chainmail tunic. His sword, wrought from twisted steel and iron, hammered into an unyielding edge, stood unsheathed. Even in the dim light it gleamed as if with its own vitality, remembering the many limbs it had severed and the crimson libations it had claimed. Heart of the Slain he called it, for its power over life and death.
When Eirik pulled back the curtain, he smiled to see me ready, my fingers starting what I wished him to continue.
“I shan’t take you quietly.” He unbuckled the belt upon which his dagger hung.
“My Lord,” I answered, teasing him with a view of what lay inside me.
Grasping my waist, he pulled me to the edge of the bed. “Full of sweetness,” he murmured, lowering his head to taste me, rubbing the flat of his tongue through my slit.
I shivered as he delved deeper, moaning at his upward caresses.
“I want them to hear you.” He pressed the soft point of his tongue where I most desired it, sucking me between his teeth, letting his beard rub rough against the tender skin of my inner thigh.
I cried out as he pulled me more firmly onto his mouth, devouring my softness, penetrating me with the full length of his tongue.
“Louder, my love,” he warned, “Or I’ll invite them in, to hear you properly.”
I squirmed beneath him, upon the very edge of my ecstasy. It was not the first time that others had been close during our lovemaking. There was little privacy, despite the wooden enclosure of our boxed chamber, and I was not ashamed of the noises I made. It excited me, even, to think of them listening, hearing the satisfaction of our bedding.
Dropping his woollen trousers, Eirik swiftly guided his shaft and I gave a wail of want as I took the glistening head.
“Yes, my sweet one.” My body took the full length of his desire, delivered hard into my yielding flesh. I panted with the force of his thrusts, lifting my hips to meet him until my voice gave its final rising. Eirik groaned loudly and clenched, holding himself deep, pulsing his seed.
There was a cheer and laughter from the adjoining room, at which Eirik grinned, collapsing beside me.
“You wouldn’t bring them in here, would you?” I asked, though the idea did not horrify me as perhaps it should have done.
“Nay, I would not.” Eirik’s hand found my breast, squeezing the nipple. “For they would not wish to stop at looking. Any man watching you writhe beneath me would want his share, and I’ve no wish to do battle in my own bedchamber. You are my woman, Elswyth. No other shall have you.”
His answer pleased me and we made love again—slowly this time, rocking languorously until the end, and with Eirik’s kisses gentle on my lips.
We dozed, and it was fully dark when I woke. All was quiet, but something had stirred me, and Eirik, too.
“Did you hear it?” I asked. “Someone crying out?”
