Viking Tribute

Chapter 13: Surrender

I didn’t take me long to figure out a new course of action: I would become the perfect slave, so perfectly obedient that he would believe I had embraced my fate. And when he would expect it less, I would run away. I had come to acknowledge that I was trapped, and that he would have his way with me no matter what. Struggling would only make my life more difficult, which he seemed to find entertaining. Maybe if I acted meek he would grow bored of me and lose interest.

I just had to keep my temper under control. Knowing little of men, aside to my kin, I thought it would be easy. Time would prove me wrong.

That afternoon, I did my best to help Aidan, baking pastries under his supervision and peeling vegetables. My hands and forearms stiff and sore from the unusual work, I went to the bath house to prepare for the night. I needed to make myself clean and pretty to suit my purpose.

The servants were busy preparing the banquet and I drew the bath myself, using the underfloor stream to fill the bucket and heating it with hot stones from the steam room’s hearth. The water was warm in no time and I immersed in the sweet scented liquid, playing with the lavender flowers I had thrown in.

I used perfumed oils on my body, then on my hair to discipline my curls, and combed it thoroughly. My dress and smock had dried and I put them on, leaving the collar off; I had finally managed to figure out the clasp.  He had put it aside last night; surely he wouldn’t expect me to wear it in bed?

When I joined Aidan in the longhouse he frowned:

“You look like a free woman in this dress, and you don’t wear your collar. Lord Einarr won’t be pleased.”

I shrugged:

“He won’t see any of it, I’ll be in my smock and in the dark by the time he comes to bed. With a bit of a chance he will be too drunk to do anything but sleep.”

Aidan shook his head:

“Don’t count on it, I have never seen him intoxicated. His resistance to liquor is impressive.”

That was bad news.

“Mine is very low. Could you give me some mead? It might help me later.”

Aidan stared at me, considering.

“Just one cup then, they won’t notice it missing. Here, have it before you eat and brush your teeth carefully after, so that he won’t smell it in your breath.”

What I didn’t say was that mead made me sleep. Perhaps if he found me in a deep slumber, he might leave me alone? It was worth a try. At worst, it would dampen my feelings.

I took my sweet time savoring my dinner; Aidan was indeed an excellent cook. The roast pork was melting in the mouth, seasoned with exotic spices I struggled to identify. The vegetables were done to perfection. I could easily understand his value for his master. A literate slave who could take care of a house and land, as well as provide exquisite food for the lord and his guests was a rare gem.

“What did you put in the sauce? I can’t quite figure it out.”

“It’s a spice from the Southern countries, they call it kardemomme. They use it a lot here. Do you like it?”

“Aye, I do.”

He got up and fetched a thin stick.

“Cut a piece of it and chew the end, then rub your teeth with it, it’s very efficient. The trader gave us a bunch for free. It’s named miswak where he got it from.”

“Will you not be punished for giving precious goods to a slave?”

He smiled:

“Hospitality is a sacred duty. These are for guests and I consider you one, since Jarl Einarr instructed me to give you whatever you needed, within reason.”

I thanked him and retreated into the bedroom. The night had fallen a while ago, but the banquet would last for a few more hours. Having used the stick, which I found very efficient, I undressed down to my smock and lay down. I was grateful to Aidan for changing the bottom sheet, some memories were best forgotten.

The mead, combined with the warm comfort of the bed, soon took effect and I was fast asleep.

The dream was very pleasant: I was kneeling in a bathtub, and warm water poured on me, slowly running down my body in sensuous rivulets, making me shiver in delight. I arched my back, lifting my face towards the source, and it stopped.

As I was opening my eyes it started again, but it was too late. I woke up curled on my side in a candle lit room, my worst nightmare sitting on the edge of the mattress, watching me with a grin. One of his hands was gliding down my spine, caressing it softly.

I reddened, remembering the dream. This was what I had found so pleasant, and it still was, no matter how much I wished to detest it. And he knew it.

“You seem to like me better in your sleep. A pity I had to wake you up, but I’d rather have you aware in my arms.”

I bit my lip not to talk back, I had to hold on to my resolve. Sweet, pliable, willing, I repeated in my mind as a litany. Make him believe I had changed. I twisted my mouth in a shy smile and forced an answer out of my lips.

“I am at your service my Lord.”

My stomach lurched at my words, yet I managed to keep my countenance.

He stared at me in disbelief, clearly expecting more resistance. Eventually he smirked:

“Are you now? Let’s see how dedicated you are. Take off this smock and lie on your front.”

It took all the strength I could muster not to hit him and run. I complied and waited while he undressed, aware of the chilliness of the air on my bare skin.

He pushed my legs apart and I tensed, fearing the worst. I was helpless, indecently exposed, unable to anticipate his actions, and I hated it. It was degrading.

His hands ran in my hair, playing with it, before pushing it away, uncovering my nape and shoulders. He kissed them, nibbled lightly, lingering on the spots he found the most sensitive. Soon I was shaking uncontrollably under him. Progressively, he extended his playground to my whole back, and then to my arms and legs.

I was overwhelmed by the sensations forced on me, my treacherous body fully under his control. Tears of frustration escaped my eyes, immediately wiped by him.

Lying down beside me, he pulled me over him, closed his arms on me, and kissed me. For unfathomable reasons, I found it comforting. His skin was warm and smelled good, clean. Having grown surrounded by the stink of sweat and unwashed bodies, it was a welcome change.

I shuddered when his fingers followed his mouth’s path, but the effect was duller, more bearable.

“You are new to this game, my little dreki, I must go easy on you. You will learn to enjoy it.”

Slowly, he pushed me up until I was kneeling on him, straddling his hips. I paled, understanding what he expected from me. I was frozen on the spot, unable to do what he wanted.

“You must still be sore from last night Sunngifu. This will be more comfortable for you. I’ll allow you to choose how fast or slow you want me to go. It is your reward for your obedience,” he said quietly, “however, if you prefer it as before, I will oblige…”

I shook my head. Although I dreaded this, I didn’t wish for pain. If I could avoid it…

Very cautiously, I lowered myself on him, gasping at the end. He gave me an encouraging smile and pulled me down against him, seeing that I dared not move.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he whispered.

He didn’t. This time was far more pleasant than the first, the same fire consuming me in the end. My hatred for him, which had waivered for a few moments, came back as soon as it was finished.

I blew the candle and turned my back to him, seething in the darkness.