16. Cherine

Chapter 16

Cherine

A faint knock at my door woke me from my dreams. I blinked in the darkness, seeing only a shadow on the other side of the door and the faint stream of torchlight. Sleeping underground made it hard to know the time, and I was so exhausted from yesterday’s activities, I didn’t know if it was morning or night.

“Are you decent, Cherine?” came Rolf’s baritone voice.

Though I thought it cute that he cared about decency after we had performed some very indecent acts together, I was still a bit afraid. I pulled the blanket up to cover my chest and called out softly, “Come in.”

The door opened, and Rolf’s silhouette appeared, torch in hand.

“Good morning, my beauty,” he said. His eyes burned into me like black, shining stones. “I would let you sleep more, but it’s nearly noon.”

Oh goodness! I sat up straighter, but my temples throbbed from the movement. Too much wine—and too much sex—had caught up to me. I felt lazy and foolish.

“I was hoping you’d accompany me on a ride today,” he continued, still not moving.

“Where?” I asked guardedly.

“Oh, nowhere in particular. Some men brought in some peasant women from a nearby farm. We’ve decided to keep them as cooks. They’re currently in the kitchen making us a feast to take with us on our journey.”

The thought of other Frenchwomen brought a wave of shame. Here I was, trying to like the men I was with while they still remained detached and unmerciful barbarians. At least Erik wasn’t like that.

But I didn’t think I’d get to see Erik ever again, not in the way I really wanted.

“I’d like some alone time with you, Cherine,” he added. I couldn't miss the sincerity in his voice. “I want us to get to know each other…outside of the bedroom.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding. Though it didn’t quite get along with the Rolf I’d seen and heard about, he had been admirably gentle with me—when he wasn’t ramming me dry, that was.

“All right,” I said. “Can you please leave the torch with me? I’ll get ready now.”

“I’ll wait outside the door,” he conceded. “I don’t trust the men with my women, and I already sent Knut off to have lunch.”

I nodded and didn’t get out of bed until the door was shut behind him. I got dressed quickly, not wanting to press Rolf’s good mood by making him impatient. Soon, I was easing the door open and peering up at him with big eyes.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes taking in my chest pushed up by the front of my embroidered dress.

As do you , I thought to myself. He reminded me of a majestic bear, beautiful and unpredictable, an animal that ruled the forest with his brutality and impressive bulk. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to turn myself on all over again.

He took my hand, making me feel small yet warm and safe, and together, we walked out of the manor to our rides. With him on his black steed and me on a calm chestnut mare, we set out toward the road, a basket of food hanging from the ends of my saddle.

It was a gruesome sight. The Vikings had only just cleared the dead bodies from in front of our village’s walls and had piled them into two: one for our fallen dead, the other for the Frenchmen.

I put my sleeve to my nose and mouth, my eyes watering, trying to look anywhere else but the bloodied ground.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized as we rode side-by-side. “They were meant to clear the bodies away much sooner.”

“What will happen to them?” I asked when we were further down the road and the stench of death couldn’t reach.

“We’ll burn them,” he said matter-of-factly. “Usually, we just leave them there.”

“For the crows to feed on,” I remarked caustically.

“Of course,” Rolf said without a hint of shame in his voice. “That’s the price of doing battle. Normally, we don’t stay around after we’ve seized the land…”

“So why are you now?”

He twisted in his saddle to look at me. “Why, aren’t you an inquisitive little creature?”

I met his eyes. “If I am to be a part of you now, I think I have the right to know.”

He chuckled good-naturedly, and I exhaled in relief. Though I had no problem being bold when the situation called for it, it was like walking on eggshells whenever Rolf was involved.

“You’re very right, my beauty.”

And so, Rolf went on to tell me of his plans for the future, plans that included holding out in the manor until the King of France requested a meeting with him.

“That way, they come to me,” he said. “I am no fool—I know I would lose more men, men I can’t afford to lose, if I went on to the next village. I know their armies are growing. If I stay here, they’ll grow weary and suspicious, and eventually, they’ll step foot in my new territory.”

“And then what happens?”

He waved his hand in the air. “And then, the king offers me a position, preferably the Duke of Normandy.”

I let out a small laugh. I couldn’t help it. “After everything Arvid told us, you think they’d let you hold on to your pagan beliefs?”

“Oh, of course not,” he said, his teeth shining. “I’ll pay lip service to their god, but I won’t forsake my own. It’s no better than I’m sure you’d do in church.”

My eyes narrowed. “You don’t know what I do in church.”

“Well,” he began, and his attention drifted to the dirt road in front of us. “I’ve seen what you can do in the bedroom. No God-fearing woman would ever attempt that.”

“You gave me no choice,” I said for the second time, but my argument was starting to sound weak, even to my own ears.

“You always have a choice, my beauty. You could have fought. You could have tried to flee. You could have screamed or cried and, believe me, my heart has been so soft around you that your tears would have called the whole thing off.”

I looked down at my hands, the stiff leather of the reins wrapped around them. Rolf was right. I could have done all those things, and though I knew any resistance probably would have been futile, I didn’t try. I didn’t try because I was curious. Because although Rolf scared me, I was intrigued by my fear.

We rode for a while longer before we pulled into a sun-dappled meadow framed by golden-leaved alder trees. The leaves fell to the ground, glowing like sunshine with each breeze that passed through the white branches. It was a peaceful place, even romantic, and I felt immediately at ease.

We dismounted and let our horses drink from the nearby stream, sitting on a dry log while Rolf fished out the contents of the food basket. There were berry preserves and boiled quail eggs, roast beef and chunks of hard cheese. A small pigskin canteen of merlot was also included, as well as a few squares of homemade caramel for dessert.

I still couldn’t get used to the quality of the food I was eating, and the appetite I had lost the night before was back with a vengeance. After a life of eating moldy root vegetables, stale bread, and the occasional chicken, I felt like I was dining like a queen. It was unfortunate I still felt a stab of guilt with each bite I took, a reminder my family had to die for me to experience something better.

And was this better? I eyed Rolf as we ate, wondering about his true nature. He was a powerful and frightening man at times, but then, he was so sweet to me at others. Erik had made him seem like both a monster and a friend, and I wasn’t sure which one he was. I decided to bring him up.

“Tell me about your relationship with Erik,” I said as I picked up a caramel square and placed it in my mouth. My tongue buzzed with the sugar.

“Erik is a good warrior,” Rolf said. “He’s my oldest friend. We used to play together as children in M?re, you know. He was a strange little thing but loyal. Loyalty is hard to find these days, believe me.”

“Has he always been so…cold?”

Rolf smiled and tore into a bite of roast beef. “Yes, that’s Erik. You know, he’s a rather brutal man. A killer through and through.”

I nearly choked on my caramel. This wasn’t the Erik I knew.

He licked his lips at my worry. “Don’t look so shocked. You can see it, can’t you? He is still Erik the Axe. He would jump into battle, chopping off heads like they’re dying trees.”

“You called him civilized,” I began.

“He’s much more civilized now, but don’t be fooled. There’s a killer in his heart, and that killer will always be dying to come free. That’s why you’re with me now.”

My heart thudded against my chest as I paused. “What?”

“Of course, I couldn’t leave you in his charge for much longer. I only asked Erik to take care of you because I didn’t have the time. Too busy strategizing, you know. But I didn’t want to push my luck. I was afraid that the longer you were with him, the more harm he would do to you.”

It was a blow to my chest, shattering my reality. Could he really be right about Erik? He had always been kind and gentle towards me—most of the time, anyway. I thought I had seen the real man hidden beneath his icy exterior.

“He’s insanely jealous too, and even though the agreement was that he was saving you from death, saving you purely for me, I couldn’t trust him to do anything else. Some days, I feared for your life, my beauty. But none of that matters now. Erik won’t be touching you anymore. You’ll be with me and with me alone. That does interest you, doesn’t it?”

I gave him a weak smile, unsure of what to think anymore. “It does.”

“I understand, though, that you need some time to warm up to me. Pure sexual pleasure isn’t enough for some women. So, ask away. Ask me anything. Get to know me.”

I bit my lip and tried to ignore the betrayal coursing through my veins. I had to forget about Erik, fast. I took a deep breath and sat up straight on the log.

“Alright, Rolf. Tell me...were you ever married?”

A shadow fell across his brow, and he looked down at the ground. “Yes,” he said thickly. “I was. I had a wife and a little boy, Bjorn. They’re both dead now.”

Heat flared across my cheeks. How could I have been so stupid to ask him something like that?

“I am so sorry, milord. I-”

He raised his hand and fixed his coal-colored eyes to the distance. “You couldn’t have known. And please don’t call me something that stuffy. I am but Rolf to you. And maybe a future duke, if you could be my duchess.”

His words hit me as softly as the falling leaves. I wasn't sure how to comprehend any of the things he said to me. First, Erik being painted as a barbarian, then the loss of his poor wife and kid, and now he was talking about making me his duchess. I looked to him, bewildered. He placed his hand on top of mine and squeezed it.

“As long as you don’t find me repulsive. You don’t, do you?” he asked, his eyes roaming over every delicate plane on my face.

“Of course not,” I whispered, tempted to look away from his gaze. He was looking too deep, and I didn't even know how I was feeling. He was asking me to be his duchess when he would no doubt be crowned duke. Me. A duchess. A peasant with no money, no skills, no family. How could I ever become anything more than just a beautiful woman trapped in never-ending labor and poverty?

But it had been several weeks since my old life ended. It was time for me to stop thinking about the past, time for me to look forward and embrace my new life as much as I could.

I sniffed delicately and squeezed his hand back. “I’d be honored to be your duchess, Rolf.”

He wasted no time in showing me how happy that made him. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me passionately. I fell into an easy rhythm, lips against lips, enjoying the intimate connection.

After a few minutes of fiery kisses, he stood and grabbed the rope that had tied the basket to my saddle. My eyes widened at the sight of it between his tanned hands, the taut way he pulled at both ends.

“Don’t fear, my beauty,” he told me. “I will not harm you. I just wonder if you’d oblige a fantasy of mine.”

I feared, regardless. “What is it?”

“Strip naked, and I will show you. Just remember, it is unwise for a duchess to refuse the commands of the duke. If you still wish to have that role, that is.”

He was testing me. Though that sly smile was twitching on his mouth, his eyes were hard, as if daring me to disobey. A sick part of me was tempted, just to see what he’d do, but I quickly buried that feeling. As loving and sincere as Rolf was in this moment, I could never be truly fooled by his nature. I saw the signs of the beast lurking deep within his bulk.

“As you wish,” I said as easily as I could muster. I fumbled with my dress until it loosened and stepped out of it. I was Rolf’s now, and while I’d expected us both to be unclothed at some point, it didn’t mean it wasn’t scaring me to death.

He let his eyes soak me up. His grin stretched.

“I will be a lucky duke,” he commented lustily, “won’t I?”

“You will,” I said with a shaking voice, twitching from the early winter chill.

“Prove it to me,” he said. He pointed to the ground. “Down you go, on all fours. This time, you are not a cat in heat, but a horse I will ride.”

Mindful of his nickname, the Walker, because he broke so many horses’ backs, I froze, unable to move.

Rolf chuckled. “Not literally. You'll see. Now, down you go.”

Before he could come over and push me down, I quickly dropped my naked body to the ground, balancing on hands and knees. I waited in trepidation as the cold seeped in from the dirt.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. He slipped the rope over my head, in front of my face, and placed his fingers at my mouth, teasing my lips. “Open up.”

I gingerly opened my mouth, and the rope was passed through it, tasting like earth and wood.

“You can bite down,” he said. “You may want to.”

Before I had a chance to react, he shoved a wet finger inside me, the cold and shock causing me to jump. He yanked the rope back, now acting as reins. My head came up, and I panted, the rope pulling at the tender sides of my mouth.

“Still yourself,” he warned. I heard him remove his clothes and saw his tunic fly to the side. He inserted two more fingers, stretching me from the inside out. I bit down through the pain, trying to will my body to relax and accept him. But he was rough and insistent, and it took a while of him sliding his fingers in and out of me before I was lubricated enough. My heart rate slowed, and I accepted my somewhat degrading position.

“Now comes the real ride,” he whispered. With one hand at the small of my back, pulling me into him, he plowed his iron-hard cock into me, filling me immediately. I groaned, more from pain than anything else, my body still raw from his pounding the night before. But Rolf didn’t seem to mind. He kept thrusting forward, his grunts growing louder and louder until they filled the forest.

All the while, he kept tugging hard at the reins, yanking my head back like I was a wild and unruly filly that needed to be tamed. The occasional smack of his giant palm hit my cold and bare ass, and I knew it was beet red and tender like the rest of me.

After several minutes—too long, in my opinion—Rolf finished with a hearty cry, and I could practically feel him spilling out from inside me.

He almost collapsed on top of me, and I fell to the ground from his weight, the cold dirt rubbing uncomfortably against my nipples.

“Well done,” he said between breaths. His voice was hoarse. “You passed the test. A duchess you can ride like a stubborn mare is the duchess who belongs to a Viking.”

He pulled out of me and then walked off to the trees to urinate. I was left with a face full of dirt, wondering if I had agreed to the right life after all.