Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

F or a blissful couple of days the army of bedraggled men took the rest they deserved. They finally had time to sleep, eat, and drink as much as they needed. They also tended to the numerous wounds they had suffered. Moon had been right. As far as Eyja could tell, she was the only one who did not bear any cuts. But no one dared mock her for it. As soon as someone started to question her courage, Moon told them about the felling of the Norse giant, which had all been down to her. They all went silent then, knowing how much they owed her.

To her relief, the cut to Moon’s thigh was healing well. He’d been right about that too. All in all, he’d been lucky. He’d not even required any stitching

They were starting to wonder what they would do next when they received disastrous news.

All the way down south, a new menace was brewing. A fleet of Normans, led by the Duke of Normandy, had landed on the coast. The king, who had been expecting them for weeks, hastily assembled his men again and announced they would march at dawn. Eyja looked at Moon in consternation. She could not face another grueling march and another battle to the death. This was not why she had left her village. Because of her dual heritage she had felt the need to repel the Norse invaders, but she felt no such urge with Normans, much less now that she had seen the reality of war.

“I don’t want to go,” she murmured, not caring if he thought her a coward. However brave she was, she was not suited to the role of a warrior.

The words had barely passed her lips than Farmon came to them, flanked as per usual by his pack of men. Half of them were limping, the other half sported horrific wounds on their faces but they had all survived the attack. This didn’t surprise her. They seemed like a fierce, indomitable lot and she wondered, not for the first time, why they followed Farmon as if they owed their allegiance to him. Perhaps they did, for some reason or other, and they had not truly chosen to be here. It was not impossible.

The man had tyrant written all over his face.

“Listen,” the Saxon said. “I’m not going back south to fight the Normans. It was one thing facing savages from the north, quite another fighting civilized people following a man who has a real claim to the throne.”

Eyja usually did as Moon had ordered her on the first day, and spoke as little as possible when in the presence of Saxons. She therefore ignored the slur against her own people, but nevertheless it grated to be called a savage, when other invaders were called civilized.

“Aye, I heard that Duke William of Normandy had been promised the throne by the late king,” Moon agreed, surprising her. She’d had no idea he kept himself abreast of such developments. Then again, they had never discussed politics together at the village. “He was then betrayed by Harold Godwinson, who had himself crowned in haste at the death of King Edward.”

Well, if that were true, she could hardly blame the Norman for wanting to secure what was rightfully his. Eyja welcomed the news, which only comforted her in her decision to leave the army now. This quarrel had nothing to do with her. She had only meant to appease her conscience by making sure she could hold her head high when Saxons accused her of being one of the invaders.

“This is not our fight,” Farmon agreed, gesturing at his men. For once, they were in full agreement. “We are going back home. I think you feel the same, so I am here to offer that we travel back south together. The larger our group is, the safer it will be for all of us.”

Moon looked at her, as if to ask her opinion. She nodded. He already knew that she had only meant to go fight the Norse menace so he would not be surprised by her decision.

“We do feel the same.” He spoke for both of them, for which she was grateful. “We had our reasons to stop the Norsemen, as I said, but the Normans are quite different. It has nothing to do with the fact that they are supposedly more civilized than Hardrada’s men, though. It is only that we believe they have a valid claim and I will not be dragged into men’s petty squabbles.”

Farmon gave a smile. He had not missed the remonstrance and seemed to like Moon’s pluck.

“It is agreed then. I don’t think they will notice our absence or bother coming after us. We might not even be the only ones leaving but they won’t have the time or the men to try and get us back We’ll leave together tonight.”

The walk back to the village bore little resemblance to the march of the army to York. There was no sense of urgency, time enough to eat and sleep in the evenings, and talk during the day.

For all that, it was not what Moon would have called pleasant. It was safer for them to travel in a group, so he had no choice but to endure it, but really, Farmon and his friends were a crass, unruly lot, something he had already suspected but was now proven in spectacular fashion. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d had to grit his teeth instead of asking them to stop their bawdy jests. Though he could see she was fuming on the inside at the way they talked about people, and women in particular, Eyja bore it all like a... well, like a man. Doing anything else would have drawn attention to her, but her calm took him by surprise. The imp was not exactly renowned for her patience so the way she kept a tight leash on her temper impressed him. Apparently, she had more control over her impulses than he’d suspected.

On the third morning, however, she finally snapped.

They were breaking their fasts before setting off and Farmon was complaining about the length of time he’d had to go without female company, a recurring theme in the men’s discussions, as was to be expected. They had been doing nothing but march and fight for over a week now.

“We should find women to see to our needs in the next town we reach,” he declared, ripping a piece of rabbit flesh with as much finesse as a starving dog. “After what we did, you’ll agree that we’ve earned a little reward. I would like nothing more than to lie back and watch a woman suck my cock. She can do all the work, I’ve done my share against the savages, I should think.”

“Aye, so would I. A woman... or three.” The men laughed and agreed, adding their own lewd propositions to the discussion, which quickly became a veritable list of debauched acts.

Moon stole a glance at Eyja, suspecting she would have gone bright red. She probably had no idea men and women could do all this together.

“What about you, young Eirik?” Farmon asked, turning to her. “Fancy a good poke? Or are you still a virgin? Tell you what, if you don’t know how it’s done, you can watch me plough one of the whores. That should get you in the mood for some action.”

“Why would I want to do that?” she replied in a calm voice that did nothing to minimize the spark in her eyes. Moon tensed up. He knew that look all too well. She was about to explode. “Watching a pig roll in mud will be as likely to get me aroused as watching you rut. And I doubt you know what you’re doing if you prefer to let the women do all the work. So I think I’ll figure out what to do on my own, thank you.”

Whistles welcomed this sally. The men had liked the spirited answer. Farmon, however, had not. He threw the rabbit bone into the fire and bared his teeth in a grimace. “You impudent little?—”

Moon stood up before the Saxon could launch himself at Eyja and took her by the arm.

“Come with me,” he instructed tersely. “Now.”

“Why?” she asked in Norse, ignoring the fact that he had pointedly spoken in a language the men would understand.

He glared at her. He’d wanted to make it look as if he was about to explain to his disrespectful little cousin that he owed his elders some respect. That way she might be allowed to get out of this unscathed, because he feared that in the absence of whores to offer him relief, Farmon would decide that pounding a frail Norseman to the ground was another, efficient way to alleviate his frustration.

“We are going to have a little discussion, you and I.”

Eyja didn’t see how she could refuse. Moon was furious. She knew she had gone too far so she followed without comment while the Saxons kept on laughing. No doubt the idiots thought he was about to remonstrate with her—him—for mocking their self-appointed leader’s ability to pleasure women.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked as meekly as she could, which was probably not very. At least Moon did not appear impressed by her efforts at appeasement. Anger was radiating through his every pore.

“What the hell were you thinking, provoking the fool thus? He’s a crude, dangerous bastard.”

Though it was the last thing she should do, Eyja couldn’t help it. She smiled. Moon really was his father’s son when he wanted to be. Sigurd had a foul mouth and she’d had ample opportunity over the last week to see that the son had inherited it. Thus far in the village he’d seemed able to control his tongue in her presence. Now, possibly because she was posing as a man, he did not even try to stop himself. She liked it. It showed he was not afraid to be himself in front of her and trusted her to know he was no dumb brute for all that.

Well, she would return the favor and not try to spare him from her thoughts. She was not sorry she had put the awful man in his place.

“I could not bear his comments a moment longer. Did you not hear what he said just now? What he’s been saying for days? How he sees women? How he mocked me for being a virgin and boasted about his supposed?—”

“Yes, I did hear all that, thank you.” He made a cutting gesture. “But you’re not really my cousin, but a woman, in case you’d forgotten, and the last thing you should do is?—”

“Stop using that as an excuse when we both know you don’t see me as a woman!”

“I don’t?”

He looked as bewildered as if she had just admitted to being a winged horse. But Eyja was not so easily silenced because she knew she was right. Moon had never seen her as a woman and they both knew it.

It had never been a problem, but suddenly, and without knowing quite why, she was incensed that he only allowed himself to see her as Eirik, a young lad he could go to war with, and not Eyja, a woman he could feel desire for. Twice now, the evening she had tickled him and the night they had bathed in the river, she had seen the proof that he could be aroused in her presence but twice she’d been forced to accept that it bothered him, as if it were unnatural that he should find her desirable. He was angry at his body’s reaction because it didn’t match what he thought of her.

“Of course, you don’t. Admit it. Our whole lives you’ve seen me as my parents’ fourth son, to be treated the way you treated my other brothers. If you saw me as a girl, you wouldn’t have thrown me in the lake that day I went swimming with you and Steinar, would you? You wouldn’t have sparred with me in the mud like you did with Torsten and you most certainly would have waited until I was out of hearing range before you told Sven all about the first girl you’d bedded.” Sobs started to swell inside her chest. “I was always one of the lads for you. Not a girl then, and not a woman now.”

And today, it hurt.

She pushed at his chest in her anguish. He was so unprepared for it, and she so fueled by disillusion that she actually managed to topple him over. They tumbled down to the floor together when they both lost their balance, Moon ending up on top of her. The provocative position and the fact that he barely seemed to notice it, did nothing to calm her frustration. Couldn’t he see that it was not normal for a man to be between a woman’s legs and not even think of taking advantage of the fact? Wasn’t he supposed to want to make the most of the opportunity?

“See, you don’t see me as a woman, you never have! A companion, a sister at best, a nuisance at worst, but not a woman.” Never someone he could take to bed. She let out the sob that had been building in her throat. Why did it matter so much how he saw her all of a sudden? She had no idea, but it did.

“I do see you as a woman, how could I not?” Moon growled. “I’ve known you all my life, I’m not fooled by your disguise. I know who you are.”

Yes, he knew but he didn’t care, which was even worse. Would he be talking calmly while she was under him if he saw her as someone he could seduce? Would he ignore the way their two bodies were pressed against each other? No. He’d known her all his life. And that was the problem. She was part of the landscape, nothing more.

She’d known Bj?rn’s son Rorik all her life as well, and yet he had not hesitated in kissing her when she’d asked him to. And Thorfinn had done much more than that, he had definitely treated her as a woman, taking her hand to place it on his throbbing member, demanding that she pleasured him. Moon would never even think of stealing as much a kiss, never mind take liberties with her.

“Tell me this then. What would you do if you found yourself on top of a woman thus? Wouldn’t you want more? Wouldn’t you think of fucking her?”

He stilled. “By the gods, Eyja, where have you learned such words? And what do you know about f— about that anyway?”

She stared at him, incredulous. For three days it was all she’d heard Farmon and his friends talk about. Did he really think she would not have picked up on the words they used? Besides, and though she did not want to talk about it now, thanks to Thorfinn, she was not as inexperienced as he seemed to think.

“I am not quite the innocent you take me for. I have been kissed, you know,” she replied, piqued in her self-esteem. Some men desired her, even if he didn’t. “And I have ears.”

“You certainly do. We wouldn’t be here if you had not overheard my conversation with Torsten about joining the army, now would we?”

Irritation washed over her. Here he was again, talking to her as he would to a childhood companion. She didn’t want to discuss the reasons for her presence here, not while they were talking about the normal way for a man and a woman to behave when they found themselves one on top of the other.

“Never mind that! I was asking you a question. Answer me. If you saw me as a woman, wouldn’t you be trying to f?—”

“No, I wouldn’t!” he exploded before she could repeat the crude word. “Because I know you’re untouched.”

This did nothing to placate her. Once again that was not what she was talking about. Virgins could still be kissed and desired. They could still be touched and caressed, they could touch and caress in return. He was only holding on to miserable excuses.

“So what if I am? Are you telling me you have a conscience? Or are you not enough of a man to?—”

“Enough!”

From the roar with which the word was uttered, Eyja knew that she had pushed Moon over the edge. There would be no coming back from this. At last! Excitement filled her. What would he do now? There was such power, such heat radiating from his body that hers seemed to catch fire.

“I’ll show you what I do to infuriating minxes who provoke me!” he muttered between his teeth, raising himself above her so as to slip a hand between their two bodies.

Without another word he reached down to the waistband of her hose and yanked them down roughly. She yelped, never having seen this fiery, savage side of him before. She was suddenly reminded that his father had been called ‘Beast’ in his youth. Only a moment ago she’d thought Moon was his true son because he liked to swear. She’d had no idea how deep the resemblance ran. In that moment he did put her in mind of a beast.

A beast who was about to devour her.

Excitement became trepidation. Had she gone too far? They were not so far away from the group of Saxons who were getting ready to depart. Was it really wise to get intimate now, here?

“Wait, Moon…”

But he didn’t seem to hear her, which did not surprise her. She might not have had enough air in her lungs to say the words out loud. Or perhaps she had only thought them, she didn’t know. With his hands on her bare skin, her mind was all in disarray.

“Well, this I haven’t done before, that’s for sure,” he grumbled while he tugged at her braies. No, she imagined he hadn’t undressed many men in his days. His tastes didn’t run that way. “Where are skirts when you need them?”

Was he really going to do this? Get her naked and take her, like the woman she was? Finally, he freed one of her legs from the hose and stared at the curls he had just revealed with fierce intent. She thought she heard him groan but she could barely hear anything over the beating in her chest.

“Moon…” she started again, not sure what to say, because she was unsure she was ready to take such a momentous step as to be fully possessed by a man right here, right now.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.

Everything went liquid inside Eyja. She should never have provoked him so. He looked half demented with desire. Oh, what had she done? Of course she knew he was man enough for anything she could think of and more!

He was the image of the formidable lover, tall and strong.

Confident.

“Spread your legs for me,” he repeated when she remained frozen in uncertainty.

To make sure she obeyed this time, he placed both hands on her thighs. He did not force her to open them, but he made sure she did not close them again when she finally allowed her knees to fall to the sides. His nostrils flared and his eyes caught fire when he saw her exposed to him. Eyja whimpered. The position was so lewd, she was so confused and aroused, she wasn’t sure how long she would bear the scrutiny. This was beyond intimate.

“What are you going to do?” she croaked.

“Oh now you’re wondering? After all your talk of fucking, after all the teasing, now you’re afraid of what I might do?”

“I’m not afraid.”

Not of him, never that. She knew him too well to know he would never hurt her. But she could not deny being out of her depth. As a virgin with very little experience of men, she wasn’t sure what to expect. All she knew was that he was still fully dressed. Her heart tripped in her chest. Inexperienced as she was, she knew that he at least needed to bare his shaft to take her. So perhaps that was not what he had in mind? Perhaps he would simply use his fingers to pleasure her, like Thorfinn had done? She instantly dissolved in anticipation, knowing it would feel even better with him.

“I’m not afraid,” she repeated, her voice husky with need.

“Good. You need not be afraid.” He lowered himself and rested his weight on his elbows. “I’m not going to hurt you or even take you, only show you what I do to virgins.”

She’d been right then, he was going to plunge his fingers inside her.

He did not.

His hands remained firmly on her thighs, keeping them wide open, and his tongue darted out instead. Eyja’s fevered brain struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. Was he about to... lick her? His tongue, was that what he meant to use to pleasure her? It could not be. Her body, not so easily shocked, manifested its approval in every way it could. Before she could stop herself, she arched her back in search for more. Moon bent his head. A heartbeat later, she felt his tongue, hot and velvety, slide along the part of herself that proved without doubt she was the woman she had claimed to be.

Eyja cried out. “Are you mad?” Fingers were one thing, but this ? She had not expected this! Even Farmon and his friends, with all their crude talk, had never alluded to such scandalous dealings. If you listened to them, only women used their mouths and tongues to pleasure their lovers, not the other way around.

“No, I’m not mad,” was Moon’s answer. “But I promise to send you mad with need. And to make you explode in pleasure.”

She was now trembling. “But... why?”

Shut up ! Her mind instantly rebelled. Who cares why he wants to do this, as long as he does!

“It will be your punishment for saying I didn’t see you as a woman, for thinking I was not man enough to take you. After that, you will never be able to doubt either of those things again. Now hush, and let me proceed.”

Moon had no idea what had gotten hold of him.

He’d meant to put an end to Eyja’s teasing, to silence the wretched woman and show her it was a dangerous thing to play with a man’s pride and stoke his desire when he was already aroused. But now…

Now he was overcome with lust.

Eyja was right. All his life he’d seen her as a friend, at the best of times, a nuisance at worst. The younger sister who’d constantly been in the way when he wanted to play with her brothers, a companion he’d had no choice but to accept in the band, a reckless imp who’d launched herself headlong into an enterprise that was not her own.

Over the last week she’d caused him endless worry, forced him to sleep with one eye open when he needed rest, turned his life into a living hell with the bewildering desire she provoked inside him. He’d twisted his mind into knots doing what was needed to provide her with the protection she needed, thought of nothing else than her. Her, with her disturbing cropped hair, and ridiculous men’s clothes, her with her brazenness and utter inability to hold her tongue when it was needed. All those things should have ensured he could remain detached in his dealings with her.

It had not. What in another would have been seen as faults seemed like qualities in her. Because he could not think of anyone else combining these with courage and honesty and mischief. There was no one quite like her. For days he had done his best to consider her no different from the men around them, marching toward battle—and failed.

And now…

Now it was all over, they were headed back home and there was time to think. Now she had seen him bathe and not averted her eyes, he had felt her writhe atop him, he had gone hard imagining her naked body.

Now everything was changed.

There was nothing ridiculous about her. She wasn’t an imp playing at being a man anymore, or a nuisance, or someone who’d been forced on him. Now she was in his arms and she was all woman, feminine and sweet-smelling. Her body, half bared to him, was beautiful. Her legs, finally free of those awful braies, were long, slender and downy soft. Her sex, so close to his waiting mouth, was weeping for him. Her scent was intoxicating. He already knew she would taste like melted butter and honey, his favorite treat, and he couldn’t wait to get his fill of her. He knew he could not take her and would have to see to his release on his own afterward, but he needed this indulgence.

Licking her was sure to bring him to the brink of orgasm. Once she’d been satisfied, he would take himself in hand and finish it off. It was the only option he had, because he could not take her maidenhead. That was not what this was about.

Eyja moaned and Moon stopped thinking. To hell with Farmon and his men, to hell with what he should do, to hell with the consequences. He needed this.

“Hush,” he repeated as he dipped his head to the sweet temptation awaiting him. “Now let me feast. If you need to scream, scream into your hand.”