Viking Passion Read Online Free PDF Page B

seeing her still
holding the piece of greasy boiled meat in her fingers.
    “Eat it,” he said.
    She bit off a piece and began to chew. He
handed her the silver cup again, and once more she drank deeply of
the mead, tasting the honey from which it was made. The room began
to swim around her, and she blinked to keep her eyes open. Erik was
speaking to her again.
    “I do not know your name.”
    “Alienor.”
    “That is not a Saxon name.”
    “My mother was Frankish. My father named me
for her. He loved her very much.”
    Erik looked faintly surprised.
    “So was my mother Frankish,” he said, “But my
father loved her not at all. And Snorri’s mother saw to it that she
did not live long.”
    Chilled, she stared at him, not knowing what
to say. In spite of her hatred of all the Norse, she felt a thin,
tenuous thread of circumstance beginning to bind them together.
This man had also suffered because of Snorri, or at least because
of Snorri ‘s mother, which was close enough for Lenora.
    “She was a slave,” Erik went on, “and
Thorkell was too proud of me. Snorri’s mother was jealous.”
    “Where is Snorri’s mother now?” Lenora
asked.
    “She died while I was away in Miklagard. Let
Odin be thanked for that.” He drained his cup and motioned a
serving woman to refill it. “Your friend called you something other
than Alienor.” he remarked.
    “I am called Lenora.”
    “Lenora.” He said the name softly, bending
his dark head toward her. His leg pressed more closely against
hers, and his left hand stroked her thigh in a sensuous rhythm.
    Exhausted, her head reeling from the mead,
Lenora had just begun to relax. She was startled by the pleasant
sensation of his hand on her. She could feel its warmth through her
woolen skirt. She tilted her head up to look at him again and met
his clear green eyes. For just a moment her fate did not seem as
horrible as it had when she had first come into Thorkell’s
hall.
    Then Snorri laughed, and she remembered all
that had happened to her recently. Straightening her back, she
pushed Erik’s hand away. He grinned with a self-confident air that
told her more clearly than threats or violence could have done that
when he was ready to take her she would have no choice in the
matter.
    I hate them, she thought despairingly. I hate
them all.
    The Viking feast ground slowly on. Vast
quantities of food, mead, and ale were consumed. The noise level
increased rapidly. A fight or two broke out, the participants
leaving to settle their differences elsewhere. Several serving
girls were despoiled on the benches or on the raised earthen
platform that ran down both sides of the hall, depending on the
preferences of the men involved. No one paid much attention.
Placing bets on the wrestling match going on beside the firepit was
more interesting.
    Among the women sitting at the feast Lenora
saw Maud and two others who had been with her on Snorri’s ship.
    “What will happen to them?” she asked
Erik.
    “After the feast is over most of them will go
home. Some, like that fellow,” he indicated the man with Maud,
“live several days’ journey from here. If the women please their
owners, the men might keep them. Otherwise, they will probably be
sold in the slave market at Hedeby.”
    “Where is Hedeby?”
    “East of here, near the Baltic Sea,” he
replied shortly, and then proceeded to ignore her as he ate and
drank.
    Thorkell returned to the hall, laughing at
the boisterous welcome he was given and the shouted jokes directed
at him. He was alone.
    “Where is Edwina?” Lenora asked Erik.
    “Probably asleep,” he replied, with no sign
of concern.
    She decided she hated him more than she hated
his brother.
    Shortly after Thorkell’s return, a woman
appeared and seated herself next to him on the carved settle. She
was not much older than Lenora, but taller, and big-boned. She had
silver-blond hair and dark blue eyes that seemed to be fixed on
Lenora. It was not until she heard a sigh