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"I know what you saw and I am sorry you witnessed that.

I should have spoken to you, made sure you understood why it was needful.

I bear responsibility for that oversight, but it does not excuse your actions today.

Had we not been able to track you and find you swiftly it is likely that none of you would not have survived the night.

Have you any notion of the dangers you face out here alone? "

"I... I had no choice. I know of the bandits, and the wolves, but I thought?—"

"You thought me more dangerous?"

She nodded, tears now streaming down her cheeks.

"Well, you were wrong and you shall pay the penalty for your error, Mairead."

Her grip on her son had slackened and Gunnar drew the boy slowly away.

He beckoned Steinn to come closer, and at Gunnar's nod the man leaned down to haul the child up before him in the saddle.

Gunnar returned his attention to the weeping woman who knelt before him and kept his tone low, for her ears alone.

"Mairead, you are to be punished for what you have done today.

You endangered yourself and your children, my property all of you, and I will not tolerate that.

You are to be spanked, my belt to your bare bottom, but I see no merit in having your son witness your punishment.

He will return, now, to Gunnarsholm and you will see him there soon enough.

It is better, also, that Tyra go with him. "

"No! No, my baby needs me. You cannot take her." Mairead backed off, pressing her baby against her body and glaring her tearful defiance.

Gunnar crouched beside her and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I will not take your baby from you against your will.

If you wish her to remain with you while you are punished, I will permit that.

But if you will agree to feed her, tend to her needs, then allow her to be taken home with her brother I promise you she will be kept safe for you until you return. "

Long moments passed. Mairead did not speak, but her lips were working as she considered his words. She glanced up at Donald, now seated on Steinn's mount and no longer so ashen-faced. She turned to meet Gunnar's gaze once more. "I may feed her, you say?"

He inclined his head. "Of course. Take as long as you need to satisfy yourself that she is well. You will not be separated for long, I promise."

"She will be with Steinn?"

"Yes. You know you can trust him. He will hand her to Aigneis when they get back to Gunnarsholm."

"You promise?"

"I do. You can trust me to ensure your children come to no harm."

She said nothing more, but her nod was sufficient.

Gunnar rose and moved away to allow her some privacy to feed her baby.

He waited by his horse until she started to get to her feet then he returned to offer her his hand.

She made no protest as he took Tyra from her then passed the little one up to Stein.

"The babe is to be cared for by Aigneis until we return. Take half the men back with you, the rest are to await us where they are. No one is to approach unless I summon them."

"Aye, Jarl." The warrior wheeled his horse about and set off back the way they had come. Gunnar watched as Steinn rode up to his men, then a few moments later the youth continued on, accompanied by four of the eight Vikings who had accompanied him on his quest. The rest remained where they were.

Satisfied his instructions were to be carried out Gunnar turned his stern gaze on the woman who stood white-faced at his side. "Do you understand why you are to be punished?"

She nodded, and lowered her gaze to examine her leather-shod feet.

"Look at me, Mairead, and tell me why you deserve to feel my belt across your buttocks."

Her features reddened at his explicit description, but she met his gaze. "Because I tried to escape. I left Gunnarsholm without permission."

"Not good enough. Try again." He deliberately hardened his tone.

Her lovely eyes widened. "Because I put myself in danger."

"Yes, that is better. But there is more."

"I endangered my children too. I did not trust you, I allowed myself to believe that you would hurt my son."

Gunnar moved in close, so close that she had to bend her head back to maintain the eye contact he insisted upon. "What should you have done instead?"

"I am not certain, Jarl."

"No? Then what might you suggest? I will tell you if you are wrong."

She gnawed on her lower lip, and Gunnar noted that not once had she asked for leniency for herself. She was ready to plead with him on her son's behalf, but not her own.

"I should have waited. I should have trusted you to be fair, and to understand why Donald stole those items."

"Oh? And do you understand why he did that?"

"No," she murmured.

"Nor do I, but I will, by the time this is done. Your answer is satisfactory. So, tell me now, Mairead, have you been spanked before? Your husband, perhaps?"

She gave a sharp little nod. "He was often angry, his temper was easily roused."

"Do you believe me to be in a temper now, Mairead?"

"No, Jarl, but you are angry."

"Yes, I am, but my temper is quite under control. I am not about to raise my hand to you in anger." He paused. "Is that what your husband did?"

"He would slap me, across my face usually, and call me cruel names. He... he would shout, a lot. At me and at Donald."

"Were you afraid of him?"

Her lip trembled. "A wife should fear her husband. Is that not so?"

He gave a wry laugh. "I can think of many Viking women who do not fear their husbands in the slightest. Respect is not the same as fear. A wife should respect her husband and accept his authority. A slave, also, must submit to her master."

"I know that. I never intended?—"

"Will you submit to me, Mairead? Now? Will you remove your clothing, lean against yonder tree and lift your bottom for my belt? Will you thank me for the lashes I shall give you and swear to me that you will never endanger yourself like this again?"

"Yes. Yes, Jarl, I will do that."

Her voice was little more than a whisper, but he heard and it was sufficient. "Very well. Follow me."

He strode off into the shadow of the large pines which edged the meadow where they stood.

His men would be close enough to hear him if he summoned them, but he would afford Mairead the privacy he believed she deserved.

After all, it would not be proper for half the men of Gunnarsholm to be treated to the sight of his future wife's naked bottom.

Later, as he considered this intimate exchange between them, he would seek to identify the precise moment he determined that she was to be his wife.

The best he could arrive at was that instant when she consented to allow him to take her baby from her.

She had placed her trust in him, handed over the most precious and fragile thing she had in the world in the knowledge that he would keep Tyra safe.

Donald too. She had accepted his promise, and he was lost. Now he merely had to convince her that she might marry a Viking, but that would come in due course.

First, there was the matter of her proper punishment.

"You will undress, Mairead."

"I could just raise my skirt. It would be?—"

"Your clothes, all of them. I want you naked. Now."

She flinched at his harsh tone, then nodded and started to unfasten the loose smock which she wore.

She removed it quickly and folded it, then reached behind her to undo the tapes which held her woollen skirt in place.

She bent to untie her boots, kicked them off, then stood before him clad in just the linen undershirt or sark which she wore next to her skin.

"That too, " he affirmed, though more gently now. He wanted obedience from her, not fear.

She pulled the remaining garment over her head and stood before him, nude, shivering slightly, her face downcast. Her hair was loose and fell in thick waves across her shoulders and breasts, a red mane which he itched to sweep aside in order to properly assess her lush curves.

As she began to lift her hands as though to cover her body as best she might he shook his head.

"Do not. I wish to see you."

"I am embarrassed."

"I know. And a little cold perhaps since your nipples are hard and swollen, like the berries of the holly." He allowed himself a sensual curling of his lips as he admired the vision she presented.

"Please, do not?—"

"You are beautiful, Mairead. I knew that you would be."

"I am not young," she protested, "and I have borne two children."

"How old are you?

"Twenty-five summers, Jarl."

He did the calculation. She must have been young when she was first wed. Despite her words, and even knowing she had a son of seven years, he would have guessed her to be not yet twenty, though such details were immaterial to him.

"I repeat, you are beautiful. And you are mine. Do you accept both these truths?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I do not understand. What do you want of me?"

"I want nothing of you, just you, yourself."

"It is true then, I am to be your bed-slave."

"You will share my bed, yes."

She lowered her gaze again. "I do not fear this, if that is what you are expecting. I have been wed twice, and widowed. I am no stranger to what transpires between men and women. I can submit to you in this way, if that is what you require."

Something in her resigned acceptance struck him amiss. She seemed unusually acquiescent, and whilst he desired her submission he found he did not much care for this subdued compliance. The flame in her fiery hair was not echoed in her deferential demeanour and he would not have it.

"Look at me." He cupped her chin and held her face still so she could not break his gaze.

"I desire you, and I shall have you. We both know that.

But not by force. You will be safe with me, and I will take care of you.

" He searched her deep green eyes for some clue, something he might say to awaken the spark he knew must be there, lurking hidden beneath the maternal cares and female vulnerability.

"Despite your marriages and the advancing years you claim, I believe you know very little of what can transpire between a man and a woman.

I believe you still have much to learn, and it starts here, now.

" He released her chin. “Go stand by that tree, rest your hands on the trunk and lean forward. "

Now her lovely eyes widened, darkened. She was afraid. Would she do as he asked?

Slowly, with obvious reluctance, Mairead moved toward the tree he had selected. It was a pine, tall, the trunk straight, smooth and free of branches to a height well above both their heads. She reached for it and placed her palms on the grey bark, then turned to regard him over her shoulder.

"I am not sure what you wish me to do."

"Lean forward, bend at your waist and arch your back. I want your bottom high and your shoulders low."

She blushed crimson as she turned to face the front again, but his instructions were clear enough and Gunnar was gratified when she shuffled her feet away from the tree and bent as low as she could.

The woman was trying. She wanted to appease him but this was hard for her.

He could only guess at the violence she had experienced at the hands of men in the past, and he did not wish to draw this out.

"Six strokes. They will be hard but you can take this, and you will learn from it."

"Yes, Jarl. Please, be quick..."

The timing of her punishment was for him to determine, but he would not take issue with her on this right now.

Instead, he unfastened the pin which secured his great wolf skin cloak and dropped the garment to the ground, then he unbuckled his sword belt.

Mairead flinched again at the sound of the leather coming free, but she held her position.

Her shoulders were stiff, her legs straight.

Her pretty, pink quim was just barely visible, the delicate lips of her cunny quivering between her upper thighs.

He wondered if he should instruct her to spread her legs and allow him a decent view of what was his.

Perhaps, on another occasion...

Gunnar positioned himself behind her and slightly to her left. His belt, doubled with the buckle contained within his fist, dangled from his right hand. With his left hand he caressed her smooth, creamy buttocks.

"Such a sweet, round bottom, Mairead. You will bear well the marks I shall give you today, and you will remember what it is to trust."

She did not reply. He had not expected her to. Without further preamble he lifted his right arm and swung the belt.