Falling to the Viking Read online

  He turned her swiftly, bringing her hands above her head all with one movement. The next thing she knew her naked body was up against the cold wooden pole with her arms tied above her head to a ring set in the pole. She looked over her shoulder, and checked one more time to see if someone might help her. No, it there seemed to be just a few interested eyes and a couple of men who were smiling. Damn perverts.

  She felt him tape fasten her other arm. She turned her head to look up at him. He said something, then held up a thin leather strap. He held up his hand showing all five fingers twice. That meant ten. He said something again. Wait, ten, oh no, he was going to lash her. This barbarian was going to do the barbaric act and actually beat her. This was a nightmare. She would wake up to find herself buried under a pile of rubble at the museum.

  The first strike hit her and she almost cried out. She was not into pain. As a child, she cried when they took off the bandages of her healed wounds. The second strike was also across her butt, just a little higher on her cheeks. Oh, she couldn’t take this. What did had he indicated? Ten? That meant ten strikes of the leather against her back. Still, she hadn’t cried out, and if she had to bite clean through her tongue, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out loud.

  She counted each strike so she knew how many tears came with the seventh and eighth. Somewhere in there, she felt him throw her braid over her shoulder, out of the way, as he brought a welt across her upper shoulders. By the ninth, her knees gave out. She was grateful for the pole to lean against it. She wondered after the tenth if he would really stop or maybe treat her to some more, but then felt his large body push against her as he cut her down. She held onto the pole so she wouldn’t fall to the sand.

  Dimly, she was aware that he seemed to be giving what sounded like orders to someone. A woman in one of the plain long garments was suddenly at her side, helping her, pulling Kathryn’s arm over her shoulder to help Kathryn her move.

  Kathryn, even with the tears drying on her face, couldn’t help but look at the man who had whipped her. She was surprised not to see anger any longer. Instead, there seemed to be some strange look that was almost an acknowledgement of pride. He said something to her as he reached out to lift her heavy braid, but of course, she had no idea what the words meant. Besides, right now, she hated him. She could only hope it showed on her face.

  She struggled not to throw up as she leaned on the woman. Thank goodness the woman was strong. The woman led her carefully across the sand behind a couple of buildings to an area that held a small water hole. The woman sat her on a rock bench. Kathryn was grateful for the cool feel of the rock against her sore ass. Still, she felt the stripes on her back were what hurt the most, as they had cut into muscles.

  The woman was speaking as she slowly took off Kathryn’s boots. Finally, Kathryn had gotten control enough to speak. “I am sorry. I don’t speak Danish.”

  The woman looked at her in confusion.

  “I am Kathryn.” Kathryn pointed at her naked chest. “Kathryn.” She pointed at the woman with a questioning look on her face.

  The woman nodded. “Kadlin.” The woman said a few more words, then repeated, “Kadlin,” and added, “Asta.” The woman pointed at her own chest.

  Well, I guess Kadlin is as close as I am going to get to Kathryn in your language.

  Asta indicated she wanted Kathryn to get into the spring. Kathryn was a little leery at first, but she found stones formed into steps as Asta helped her step down. The water was very warm, but she soon got used to it. The smell indicated there must be some type of natural salts in the water. She felt the whole bath begin to heal her back and relax her muscles.

  Asta gave her a rough cloth. She indicated that Kathryn should rub it all over her body. Asta also gave her some leaves tied in a knot. In the warm water, they gave off a mint smell as she rubbed them on her arms and legs.

  At one point, as she was relaxing, she saw Asta leave, but the woman returned shortly with one of the rough woven garments like what the one Asta wore.

  Asta said something as she pulled on Kathryn’s arm to get her out of the pool. There were no towels, so Kathryn let Asta help her put the long shirt on, grunting as it hit one or more of the stripes on her back. Asta did help her put her boots back on. She felt a little strange, since Asta was still without shoes. At this point, there was no way to understand what was said or make her self understood to anyone else.

  She was led into a large building that already had a lot of people in it. It had numerous carved decorations on the outside, including the horns from deer and other animals she could not identify. There were some tattered clothes waving in the breeze at the top of the building, but that was all she had time to see as they entered. It didn’t take a lot to guess its purpose. Mostly men filled the long tables. Males and females carried food or drinks to sit by the men as they came in or when someone required more. The smell was good, but it was unreal, like something out of the History Channel. One thing she noticed was that not all the serving people wore the long garments. Some of the women wore long skirts with fur decorations. These women had gold bands on their wrists with fur tops adorned with gold and precious stones.

  A fire pit was in the center with only a small fire in it. She guessed because it was warm outside, they didn’t build it up. At one side of the room was a table by itself with several men who looked like they might be the big honchos. She couldn’t remember what you called the guy who was the leader of the Vikings, but she had no doubt that the room was definitely filled with large blond Norse men.

  Asta led her to a dark corner. She was grateful to be out of the way in a place where she could watch and learn. Her back all the way down to her butt hurt like hell. To tell the truth, she was scared. It was hard to believe that this bunch of barbarians could exist in modern day Denmark, yet, there was a slight possibility that she was no longer in modern day Denmark. That didn’t make sense either.

  The men, mostly decked out in leathers plus furs, had their long hair decorated in different ways—braids and ties with some areas cut short, some even shaved to the scalp. Nevertheless, all had some of the hair very long. To her surprise, there was a clean look to all of them, even as they ate with their hands or drinking drank from big tankards.

  She might expect to see big chunks of meat on the tables, but she was surprised to also see bowls of cooked along with fresh vegetables, including roots and greens. There were big mounds of cheese in various colors passed around as they used individual large knives to carve out chunks. She actually saw milk being poured into low bowls that bread was dipped into as they ate.

  She saw some bowls of small apples and plums that hands were reaching for as all the talk grew louder. As a joke, someone threw an apple, and a small food fight broke out, which wouldn’t have been a problem if a couple of knives hadn’t been added. They threw the knives with a great deal of precise control, landing point first near a comrade or embedded into the back of a large wooden chair. One flew into the wall near where Kathryn was carefully leaning.

  Kathryn flinched, but refused to move or slide to the floor as those near her did. There was a lot of laughter with more words that she didn’t understand. One of the large men jumped up over a table with the intent to retrieve his knife out of the wall near her.

  He reached for the blade, turning with a large grin. He caught sight of Kathryn. He had been one of the men who had found her in the forest. He seemed to recognize her. He stopped to reach for the long braid that was lying over her shoulder.

  “Hah.” That was the only word she understood as he pulled her by her braid out to the table. She grabbed her braid just above his hand to save the pain to her head, but had no choice but to be thrown on the table with all the food. As soon as he let go of her, she came up with a small knife on the table and closed her hand over the handle, but before she could do any damage, another large hand was immediately around her wrist.

  The man pulled dow
n on her back as she looked up into the eyes of the man who had used the strap on her back—her back that was screaming with additional pain as he pushed her down against the wooden table. Suddenly, there was a shout from a man at the front of the large smoky room and it was instantly quiet in the room, silencing even the two men leaning over her.

  She started to turn on her side as an older robust man stepped up on the end of the table walking towards her. Quickly, the man holding her wrist reached out to seize her other hand to hold her firmly against the rough wood. He said something in a deep voice and the man who had been holding her braid sat down to hold her ankles, actually taking one each under his armpits.

  Oh, she understood. The man approaching on the table was important and her nemesis wasn’t taking a chance that her temper would let her strike the big guy. No one struck the big guy, especially a mere female who had just been stripped naked and whipped.

  The big guy stopped above her. She saw the fur boots laced with leather straps to his rough knees he exposed as he squatted down on his heels by her side. His furs were held in place by metal studded leather. There was a cape draped over one shoulder held in place by several gold chains. He had a long beard, mostly grey among the blond that had been braided with small beads twisted in the ends.

  He had the sides of his head shaved, but covered it with dark tattoos. The top was a long grey and blond mix going down the back with bits of colored leather twisted in to hold it in back. His eyes were a pale blue and looked a little bit too wise as he stared down at her.

  “Rodmar?” He looked over at the man holding her hands.

  Now, Kathryn knew the name of the man she hated. He said a few more words. Suddenly, both Rodmar and the man holding her feet yelled something together. It sounded to her like they were in an argument. He raised his hand and that shut them both up immediately.

  He took her braid in his big rough hands and began to unwrap it. Kathryn watched his face with her wide green eyes as he spread her red hair out over her shoulder, even over the hand that Rodmar held with the knife still in it. He said something in a quiet voice, but what really surprised her was that he reached out and touched her cheek with one finger.

  There was a second surprise—she actually heard Rodmar growl. The big guy removed his finger looking and looked up at Rodmar with a smile. Here, though, was where her embarrassment really began, as this group took away what little dignity she had left. The big guy looked the other way, then lifted up the bottom of her garment to her waist, exposing her for all eyes to see. He reached down to push a finger through her red bush.

  She couldn’t help it. She let out a yelp as she began to fight against the hands that held her. Rodmar leaned down to knock his forehead against hers. It hurt, so she froze as she looked into his deep blue eyes surrounded by heavy blond lashes. It seemed that they were interested in the color of her hair. It was different from their blond or light browns. It was different from the washed out dark browns of the men who were working in the fields. But she was left with very little self-respect in front of this entire group. Shit.

  Suddenly, Rodmar was yelling again at the man holding her feet. The guy at her feet stood to out-yell Rodmar. This time, Kathryn did flinch as two large swords and two slightly smaller but big knives hit the table on each side of her, held in the hands of the two men. The room was full of shouts of some type of what sounded to her like war cries. Large male chants just grew in volume.

  The big honcho was still on his heels beside her, looking down at her. He pressed his hand on her chest and she got the message. She lay still, aware of the sharp blades on each side of her. She was surprised when he lowered her skirt.

  When he stood, the room got quiet. Boy, he wielded a lot of power. Now, while two angry large barbarians stood over her, muscles expanded, vessels showing the anger in their necks as they gripped their weapons, the main guy stood, running the show. He seemed to be asking questions that both tried to outshout the other with answers.

  The big honcho looked down at her and pushed his boot into her hair. He said something while looking at her. She heard Rodmar firmly say, “Naj.” She thought that probably meant No. Again, there were more questions from the head honcho. The guy at her feet did not reply but Rodmar said, “Hej.” He looked down at her in anger.

  That might mean Yes, but Rodmar looked down at her as if she was going to get another beating. The big honcho started laughing, a deep from the stomach belly laugh. He said a couple of words to Rodmar and clapped him on the shoulder. Everyone in the room cheered.

  The guy at her feet grabbed his sword and knife as he stalked away through the crowd. As she sat up to watch his back, relieved to have one of her tormentors move away, the other one reached a heavy arm around her waist. He was strong enough to pull her across the table. She had no way to fight his strength as he held her to him and started out of the building. He was so tall that her feet were off the ground. The arm was tight, causing her to fight for air, getting grabbing little gasps as he stomped across the area between buildings in the twilight.

  His hipbone dug into her side, causing the raw stripes on her back to wake up. He ducked to enter a building, or what she thought might call a lodge. There were a couple of people in the low ceilinged room, but as Rodmar entered, they bowed. He yelled and they ran out of the same door he had entered. He walked across the room and threw her down against a pile of furs piled in one corner.

  She lay still, glad that the furs were thick enough to break her fall. She watched him as he paced the room. It wasn’t long before one of the men returned with a bucket. There was steam coming from it and she thought the man must have dipped water from the hot spring.

  Rodmar stooped to begin to unwrap his boots. As he kicked them off, he undid all the leather straps crossing his chest and waist and dropped his weapons, along with any of the other items attached to his muscular body. Finally, he went to the bucket that was sitting on a wide table. He removed his furs. He had a type of dark diaper, that was the last item he took from his body. Now he stood up and began to wash.

  Kathryn couldn’t help but look. She was frightened and angry, but inside, she was confused. She had no idea where she was or who he was. Still, he was a prime specimen of the male body. She had looked at photos on the magazines at the checkout counters, showing athletes for the male work out ads. He would put some of them to shame. He turned as he washed between his legs. Damn, she lowered her eyes immediately.

  Kathryn had seen the male body fully nude before, but this one was a little intimidating. Her boy friend didn’t look like this. She had broken up with Jim months ago. Why was she thinking of him now?

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rodmar throw his washcloth down as he turned towards her. She started clutching her long shirt as she pushed back against the wall with the furs bunching up behind her.

  “Rodmar, that’s your name, right? I would like to talk this over, but of course, you don’t understand me. My name is, ah, Kadlin.” She pointed at her chest. “Kadlin.” Finally letting go of her shirt with one hand, she pointed at him. “Rodmar.”

  He knelt down on his heels on the furs and nodded. “Rodmar.” Of course, he rattled off more words that she didn’t understand as he reached for the neck of her shirt.

  “Hey, no. Ah Naj. I think that means no.” She pushed his hand away.

  He took her wrist in an iron grip. “Naj.” He shook his head and pulled her. “Hej.”

  Kathryn saw him pull on the bottom of her long garment as he raised her to lift her so he could remove the rough shift.

  She thought for a moment as she felt cool air hit her body. She had never felt pain before, except for a couple of scraped knees as a kid, but within days, these welts overloaded her with pain.

  Enough. Wake up, Kathryn, cooperate and get past the pain. You are not a virgin. This big barbarian wants sex with you. Think about it for a moment.

  She lay back and quit fighting, just remainin
g passive as she waited. What he did next surprised her. He lifted a leg to remove her boot. She watched him through half-closed eyes as he undid one boot, tossed it aside, and repeated the process with the other.

  She stayed as still as a scared rabbit, green eyes half closed, watching his muscles move under the tanned skin. But wait, what the hell was he doing? He had moved up, sitting on his heels between her legs, pulling her closer, which opened her privates up to his view. She fought her own demon not to resist. Okay he just needed to look first before he entered, right?

  He reached and rubbed his rough fingers over her red bush, obviously fascinated by the thickness and color. He was exploring, and her damn body was reacting. She felt heat and moisture in reaction to the large hand.

  Rodmar looked up at her face and she knew he was aware of her body’s response. She could swear she almost saw a smile, a little one at least. No, come on, barbarian. I think I might want this as bad as you do.

  He moved his fingers down into her moisture. Her natural response was to jerk, but she wondered why she had tried to move away. She didn’t find his touch undesirable. Was this a natural survival response? She didn’t really care.

  He placed both large hands on her hips, almost spanning the width of her waist to haul her back against his knees. That spread her against him.

  “Hej.” He said only the one word in a deep voice. He had that same hand at her core with a finger deep in her. It hit with some type of intense feeling. Instead of yelling, Naj at him, she threw her head back against the furs, hoping to get enough air to keep her alive. She let her body push up against that hand as a second finger joined the first.

  She rode the orgasm he brought her, but before she was done, Rodmar was over her with his wide body, sliding something besides fingers into her, and she was saying one word.

  “Hej.” She was saying it repeatedly. She wanted this man inside her. This primal male could bring her release of a type she suddenly realized she had been looking for a very long time.