The Bride of a Viking

Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

Tove gripped her arm, his lips curling into a smile. It looked genuine, but Aila could tell it wasn't. He was putting on a show for the people seated in the mess hall. Women around the room watched him with googling eyes. And men watched with curiosity. Aila wished someone would help her. Why had Colden left her?

"You should be sitting with me," Tove said as he pulled her along behind him. She walked slowly, nervousness creeping into her belly.

     Ingrid watched with scolding eyes. Her dislike of Aila was obvious, and made Aila feel very unwelcome. Not that she wanted to be welcomed. She wished she could go home, even if her family hadn't survived, it was better than here. But maybe Brenna or Brandt had made it. She hoped they had.

     Aila was forced to sit beside Tove, a firm hand placed on her back to ensure she would listen. She did, sitting silently and unmoving in place beside him.

"How good of you 'twas to bring a commoner as such," a woman said, her head motioning toward Aila, "into your home and provide for her."

     "My betrothed is most kind," Aila said bitterly. She felt Tove shift beside her as his fingers dug painfully into her skin. Her hatred of him was only growing. She couldn't wait for this meal to be over so she could leave these intolerable people and return to her room. But it wasn't really her room. It belonged to her captor.

     "You know," the woman began, "my daughter Nadine," she motioned toward the beautiful brunette girl seated next to her. "Is approaching her eighteenth name day. And she's looking quite lovely." The young woman blushed a deep red and turned her shy eyes downward.

"Lovely indeed," Tove replied. He didn't pay the girl much attention, which clearly frustrated the girl's mother. "Congratulations to you, I'm sure your mother will have only the best festivities planned."

"O'course," The woman said sharply. "Such a beautiful lass deserves nothin' less."

Aila sensed this was an uncomfortable subject of conversation for the jarl. He seemed to want to avoid this nasty woman, yet he was putting up with her. She wondered why he wasn't interested in the beautiful Nadine, and why he had chosen her.

     "Yes, well I'm sure it will be fun," it was dismissive enough for the woman to drop the subject.

Nadine sat silently, her deep blue eyes rooted on Aila. Her expression was kind and seemingly friendly. Aila felt a sliver of hope at friendship while in captivity. Maybe this girl could help her escape somehow.

     The room silenced as an older female crossed the threshold, dressed in a gown fit for a ballroom. It was a grand big dress the color of blood. The shape of it left little to the imagination. Her breasts were held up firmly, half spilling out of the top. She was just as seductive as she was regal.

     The woman approached the table, her eyes on Tove. She was expressionless as she sat directly across from him. He didn't move either, only stared.

     "Tove," she said in greeting. Aila wondered if the woman was his mother, for she regarded him as someone beneath her station.

     "Yrsa," he said. His voice was strained. It would seem there was another person here who disliked Tove. The thought made Aila only slightly happier. That was, until Yrsa turned her cold eyes on Aila and glared at her for the remainder of breakfast, not bothering to say anything.

When breakfast ended, Aila wandered away from the mess hall, while Tove aimed for his study. Aila was glad he didn't bring her along. Her feet walked without purpose as she wandered down the hall without destination. She was surprised Tove hadn't placed someone to follow her, but she was glad of it.

She found her way outside in an overgrown garden covered in thick foliage. The few flowers there was, seemed to all be withering from the cold. Aila wrapped her fingers around the stem of one of the dead plants and ripped it from the ground. The flower seemed to symbolize exactly how she felt.

Aila continued through the garden, picking at weeds and dead plants. She wondered how long Tove would allow her to wander before searching for her. Maybe she could escape. The thought was very tempting. But she had no boat and even if she did, she had no idea how to get home. There was nowhere for her to go.

"Hello pretty lady," a deep voice said. Aila spun around, her eyes connecting with the man's large body. His girth was twice the size of hers, filling almost the entire path.

     "Hello," Aila said skeptically. She watched the man as he moved a couple steps closer. Her legs ached to carry her away, back toward the manor.

"Shouldn't you be inside where it's warm?" A cool smile swept across his face.

"Yes," she mumbled while moving back toward the manor. "I think you are quite right." She placed a fake smile on her lips as she brushed past his wide build. "It was nice meeting you."

"Wait just a second," he said, his calloused hand wrapping around her bicep. Aila's head turned toward the man nervously. A feeling of unease pooled in her lower stomach. "You're the Jarl's new whore, aren't you?"

Her whole face went red with fury. "Excuse me?" She removed herself from his grip roughly. "I am nobodies whore!"

     He only looked taken aback by her statement. "I am sorry for offending you lass, sometimes I speak before thinking. I did not mean to disrespect you." He seemed truly genuine, which greatly surprised Aila. She thought all vikings were brutes, but so far only Tove had proven to be one.

     "Does everyone else think I'm his whore?"

     The man hesitated for a moment. "Yes."

Aila stomped away bitterly, heading back into the manor. She felt tears brimming her eyes. She wandered through the hallways, finding her way back to the bedroom. She closed the door behind herself and slid to the ground.

***

That night when Tove appeared in the room, Aila was crouched by the fire, her hands blistered and red. Tove lurched forward, his face contorted in anger. He grabbed Aila's shoulder painfully and pulled her back. "What are you doing?" He demanded.

She tried to shove him away, but Tove held on to her firmly. "Don't touch me!" Aila screamed. Her hands swiped out at him viciously, leaving two trails of blood on his left cheek.

"Stop," Tove remained calm as his large hand wrapped around both of her wrists. He carefully turned them over, examining the burn marks. "What did you do?"

"The fire was going out," Aila mumbled. Growing up with money and having servants had meant never learning how to build or tend a fire. So when the fire had started to die, she gripped one of the logs, not realizing it would be so hot. She had never felt so stupid before.

"Next time, ask for help," Tove said. He helped her stand and led her to the bed. Aila sat down and let Tove bundle her in furs. He then grabbed a small jar out of a drawer and rubbed the contents on Aila's hands. She winced from the contact. It hurt almost as much as receiving the burn.

     Aila let her captor wrap her hands up in cloth, before rolling over in bed and pulling the furs up over her head. She listened as Tove undressed himself and slid in bed beside her.

     "Everyone thinks I'm your whore," she mumbled.

     "It does not matter what everyone else thinks," he said. His arm wrapped around her small frame, pulling her against his bare chest.

     Aila squealed as she lurched forward. She threw the fur off of her and gave Tove the deadliest look she could muster. "Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but it does to me. I am not your whore."

     Tove sat up straight. "You are whatever I want you to be." His tone frightened Aila.