Page 6 of Hungry Like a Wolf (Vikings Rock #3)

R avn slept on a straw cot in the Great House. He was full of ale and food and it was a relief not to be on a rocking boat surrounded by the grunts and nocturnal stenches of his fellow travelers.

When he opened his eyes and saw sunlight sneaking in through cracks in the wood paneling, he let out a sigh.

His plan to find his siblings had been vague and possibly foolhardy.

After they’d left the fjord, he’d had no idea which direction they’d journeyed in.

He’d guessed west, which had been Haakon’s obsession—he’d long since bored of going east into the Baltic lands.

It was Njord himself who had sent Ravn south. He’d puffed up his cheeks and blown their sail straight into the cove his brother stood in, almost as if waiting for Ravn’s arrival.

The gods worked in mysterious ways, for if Egil had not gone to sup with the gods, and his mortal body sent on its way that very day, Ravn would never have seen the plume of black smoke smudging the sky and the flames flashing as the funeral raft dipped and bobbed on the waves.

He’d been drawn to it in an instant. Knowing it was a sign. His men had rowed with fierce determination, no doubt hoping for the spoils of a raid and not believing, as Ravn had done, that he was about to find his brothers and sister.

He sat and rubbed his beard. His men were strewn around still sleeping in various states of undress and with a constant snoring rumble.

Standing, Ravn adjusted his pants and belt and searched for food and drink. He found ale and took a slug.

“Eggs.”

He turned.

Queen Kenna stood in the doorway with a basket. She pushed her hood from her head and stomped her boots free of snow.

“An egg would be a treat after time at sea,” he said.

“I will cook for you.” She strode past him. Her pants were the same deep red as her gown had been the day before and her hair was plaited back over her head in several thin rows. She wore a cross at her neck.

“Where’s Haakon?” he asked.

“He’s with my father. They are discussing the crop field. The battle with King Athol has left damage. It must be repaired as soon as the weather allows.”

“What is the weather like today? I can see sunlight.”

“Aye, there is sun, more than where you are from.” She smiled. “But the snow came again in the night. The ground is frozen once more, which will be a relief from the mud.”

He sat and watched as she set a pan over the fire and began to crack eggs, whisking them with a spoon as she did so and then sprinkling in dried herbs.

“Why did you marry my brother?” he asked.

She looked up at him, surprise widening her eyes “Why not?”

“He invaded your village. Surely, he’s your enemy.”

She laughed. “It is true, he did, and to start with, I was very unhappy about his arrival and his proposal…or should I say insistence that I marry him, but now that we are together, I find him to be a kind, confident, intelligent man who makes me feel safe and loved, so I am thankful to God and our Lord Jesus Christ that he came upon our shores and chose me.”

Ravn was quite for a moment as a pang of jealousy hit him. It wasn’t that he wanted Kenna. She was beautiful, it was true, but he wanted someone to speak of him that way.

Siggy used to compliment him on being strong and powerful and brave and he’d thought they’d been the only compliments he’d ever need, but to see the softness wash over Kenna’s face as she spoke of Haakon, he realized he wanted that too.

But could he hope to find it?

How could they be so different? He and his brother? Was it because he had always followed the darkness, as the runestones had reported? Had his brother followed a path of light and that was why he had a crown, a wife, and likely heirs on the horizon and had swapped one home for another so easily?

Haakon also had people who respected him.

“Here.” Kenna handed him a plate of eggs and a spoon. She’d sprinkled salt crystals over it and added a knob of bread.

“Thank you.” He took it. “Where do Astrid and Orm sleep?”

“They have taken two empty dwellings on the east.”

“One each.”

“Aye, my brother, Hamish, has been staying with Astrid each night.” Her lips pursed and she shook her head slightly.

“And this bothers you?” He spooned eggs into his mouth. They were good.

“They are not wed.”

Ravn laughed. “Astrid is not the marrying sort.”

“Which makes her, in my eyes and the eyes of the Lord, a sinner.”

“‘A sinner’? Why?”

“To lie with a man, she should be married to him.”

“And your brother? He is also sinning?”

“Absolutely!” She pointed at the door. “Until she arrived, he’d been celibate, the same as me—”

“What is that?”

“Celibate?”

“ Ja .”

“It means not to lie with someone. No sex…ever.”

“Ah, I see.” He paused. “But why would you want no sex ever?”

“It is not forever, but God’s will that a union should be blessed before sharing a bed.” She paused. “It is the sanctity of marriage they are disrespecting.”

He saw the irritation washing over her face. But there was one thing he couldn’t quite believe. “Are you telling me that until my sister arrived here, your brother, Hamish, was a virgin?”

“Aye, that is exactly what I’m saying.”

He laughed, loudly, and several sleeping Vikings stirred. “Oh, in the name of Thor, she will have thoroughly corrupted him.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I do not believe there is even a word for celibacy in my language. Sex is free and easy; pleasure is there for the taking. But you know that, right? You are married to my brother.”

“What I do in the bedchamber with my husband is none of your business.” She held his eye contact with more than a hint of fierceness.

He held up his hand. “I do not wish to offend, Your Grace.”

She inclined her head and started eating her own plate of eggs.

“But in our land, when the nights are long and dark and cold,” he said, “it is known for many people to take to the same bed. Arms and legs entwine, bodies become one and slick with sweat. Gasps and cries of ecstasy. It is a way to pass the time, a way to keep warm.”

Her lips formed a perfect ‘ o ’ and her spoon had stopped halfway to her mouth.

“Men with men, women with women, there is no jealousy, no judgment, so you see why I say my sister will have corrupted your virgin brother.”

She frowned. “So you would not care if someone took your wife?”

He paused. “Sadly, that is not an issue now that I no longer have a wife.”

She made a little cross sign on her chest. “Lord bless her soul.”

“She is with the gods,” he said quickly. “But I would not have minded her being with another man, as long as it was my idea and I got to watch.”

“‘Watch’?”

“It would be fun so see her pleasured and know it was my turn next.”

“Oh, you really are a heathen.” She stood with her plate of food.

“You do not think Haakon would do the same?”

“I have seen him jealous of my childhood friend who looks at me too much or fills up my ale too often, so no, I really don’t think he would want another man bedding me.” She picked up her drink. “I will finish my food in my room. I wish to check on my owl.”

He nodded and suppressed a grin. He’d taught her something new about his people.

Something Haakon hadn’t bothered to tell her.

Was that because Haakon didn’t want her asking questions about the orgies he’d enjoyed so recently at Uppsalla?

Well, Ravn could guarantee the queen would want answers now.

She was clearly not a woman who shared her body with just anyone, so how could she understand a man who would?

Good luck, Haakon.

After finishing his eggs, he stood and threw his cloak over his shoulders.

He stepped outside and squinted in the bright light glinting off the snow-covered ground.

The fort walls were high and strong and in the distance, he could see the manned watchtower.

A well stood to his right, and beyond that, a pigpen and more round dwellings with turf roofs.

It was busy, with villagers moving around, collecting water, tending animals. An ironsmith was at work under a shelter, his furnace flaming and his hammer toiling.

After relieving himself, Ravn made his way east of the Great House and soon saw two small dwellings side by side. Each had the door closed. A black-and-white dog sat outside one chewing lazily on a bone.

He decided to knock on the other door first. If it was Orm, he wouldn’t care about knocking, but Astrid would shred his ears if he just walked in on her.

Knock. Knock.

The door flew open with gusto. “Brother!” Orm stood there, his face freshly washed and shaven for once and a big grin balling his clean cheeks. His torso was bare and his pants hung low on his lean hips. “How are you this fine morn?”

Ravn scowled. “Why are you so cheerful?” He hoped it wasn’t because he was screwing his pretty thrall. She was a princess. She deserved better treatment.

Unless of course she liked Orm. Ravn shook his head to rid himself of the thought.

“I am cheerful because we are all together.” Orm clapped his hand on Ravn’s shoulder and pulled him inside. “Please, I bid you to enter my humble abode.”

It was compact and round with a central fire and had two fur-covered cots opposite each other. A wonky, wooden table held food and drink and the walls were covered in drying herbs and little animal bones tied on string like decorations.

A bowl of water was set on a stand and had a razor and soap beside it. More water heated over the fire.

Ravn peered into the shadows.

Curled up in the corner was the thrall woman. Her eyes were wide and her fingertips taut on a blanket she was gripping.

“You, get this water changed,” Orm said, clicking his fingers.

She jumped up, then steadied herself on the wall when she appeared to unbalance.

Ravn looked at the base of her muddied, emerald-green gown and remembered the chain linking her ankles.

With obvious difficulty, she shuffled to the dirty water bowl and picked it up. She moved to the door.

Ravn reached for it and held it open. “Let me.”