The Viking Hero's Wife (2 page)

By the time they’d found Valgard’s prey, they’d been wed by
a priest in a beautiful grove near a tree that Valgard swore sprang from the
root of Yggdrasil itself. Through their marriage, Edda had known peace,
prosperity, status, and—most importantly of all—love, in ways that she’d never
believed possible as a slave.

“Six whole years already,” Valgard said dreamily. He kissed
the top of Edda’s head with a tenderness that belied his warrior’s prowess. “I
meant it, you know. I have not had another woman since we were wed.”

“And so it should remain!” Edda laughed, punching his arm
lightly. Secretly, she was touched. It wasn’t common for wandering warriors to
stay faithful.

“It shall,” Valgard promised, embracing her in his strong
arms. “It shall.”

####

“Valgard!” The cry at the door jolted Edda from her rest.       

“Thialfi?” Valgard said muzzily, rubbing his eyes. “What
urgent need wakes me from my bed?” He kissed Edda’s hair as he reached for his
clothing. His best friend Thialfi stood silhouetted in the open door.

“My apologies, friend,” Thialfi said ruefully, averting his
eyes as Edda tugged the blankets up higher, covering herself. “Jonakr has
called an emergency council.” Indeed, faintly, Edda could hear the clanging
bell calling the village together.

“What emergency could there be?” Valgard asked grouchily,
but he began dressing. “Wait outside, Thialfi.”

Edda reached for her dress as the door swung shut again. “I
hope it’s nothing serious,” she fretted.

“I’m sure it’s Jonakr’s usual wind-blowing,” Valgard said,
shaking his head. Edda wasn’t so sure; Jonakr was slimy and sometimes selfish,
but he was usually a good headman, or he tried to be.

Her heart constricted with unknown fear as she, Valgard, and
Thialfi hurried across the square. Other warriors, some of them with concerned
wives in tow, followed them to the longhouse. Edda noticed with a twinge of
amusement that the other men fell naturally in line behind Valgard, cementing
him as their de-facto leader. Even through her fear, she flushed with pride.

“Jonakr!” Valgard cried, striding into the great hall. “What
has happened, that you should ring the bell when we are home not a day?”

“The need was great,” Jonakr replied in unctuous tones. “I
have received word from our brothers downstream at Thorsfell that they are
under assault by a band of sorcerers. Their losses are already too great. We
must send our warriors to their aid.”

Valgard’s expression was stoic, but Edda could tell he didn’t
like this twist in events. “Jonakr, my liege, we have been home less than a
day. Many of us bear wounds yet unhealed, and I can speak for myself, at least,
that after my first night back to my beautiful wife, I am not well-rested yet,
either.” Nervous laughter spread through the longhouse.

“I know this, Valgard,” Jonakr said, his face the very
picture of regret. “Yet unless we wish to consign our closest allies to death,
you and your men must sail again tomorrow morning. Have you heard of the fell
druids of Loch Arkaig? It is said that the dark clan leave no man alive and no
women whole when they strike. Going to our brothers aid is the brave thing—the
right thing—to do.”

Valgard was silent for a long moment. Edda held her breath,
hoping he’d finally challenge the headman—it was dangerous for him and his
warriors to journey out so soon when they would be at less than full force.

“You are correct, Jonakr,” Valgard said wearily. “We will
gather gear and supplies and what rest we may today, then ride out on the
morrow.” There were no cheers as there usually were when the warriors set out
to battle. The whole village knew that this journey would end in many deaths on
both sides. Valgard and Edda walked slowly back across the green in silence as
the village hastened to restock the longships.

“How could you do this?” Edda demanded as soon as they were
on the path to their home. She was alarmed to find that her voice was thick
with sorrow and not angry as she had imagined. “You just returned. You can’t
leave me again!”

“Jonakr is ever looking for a way to discredit me,” Valgard
said tiredly. “I must not let him reduce my standing or it is my men who will
suffer. I am sorry, my love, I would not have had it this way.”

Halting on the path, Edda gripped Valgard suddenly. She
kissed him so violently that their teeth clashed together, her tongue forcing
its way between his lips. “Then you must love me tonight as you never have
before,” she demanded. “How else can I let you go so soon?”

“My pleasure.”

Edda gave a squeal as Valgard scooped her into his strong
arms and set off down the path at a jog. Slamming their door open, Valgard
threw her onto the bed, pulling his jerkin off so quickly that the laces popped
at the wrists. Edda struggled out of her skirts, overtaken with desperate need.

“Get on the bed,” she ordered, shoving Valgard down as he
stripped off the last of his clothing. Edda was pleased to see that his cock
was already rising thick and hard.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, an eager glint sparkling in his eye.
Edda climbed on top of him so that her face was level with his hardening shaft,
her hand pulling his foreskin down to reveal the sensitive flared head. Edda
flitted out her tongue to taste him, stroking it over the slit at the very tip
of his cock. Valgard groaned low in his throat, his hips twitching, as she
greedily slid his shaft into her throat. As she swallowed his length, his
fingers probed at her exposed slit, seeking out the hard nub at the center of
her. Edda groaned around Valgard’s cock as he teased out her juices, stroking
her swollen lips open.

Edda was pleased to see that she could be as patient and
skillful as Valgard. As her lips and tongue ravished the velvet surface of his
cock, his fingers gripped the coarse blanket, clenching hard. Valgard’s groans
and little cries of pleasure made Edda’s slit hotter than a forge as she
squeezed her thighs together, determined to ignore her own pleasure for as long
as possible.

Edda could taste Valgard’s fluids spreading across her
tongue as his shaft twitched with pleasure between her lips. She eased back,
not wanting Valgard to climax until he was inside her.

“Oh, sweet Freya’s tits,” he groaned as his shaft slipped
from her mouth. Panting lightly with arousal, Edda positioned her dripping slit
over the swollen red head of his cock.

“You will promise to return to me,” she commanded, her slick
lips grazing over Valgard’s sensitive skin.

“I swear it,” he gasped, his hands clutching desperately at
her hips. “No matter what, I will see you again.”

“Swear by the gods,” Edda gasped, sliding the very tip of
him into herself.

“I swear by Loki and Thor, by Freya, by Odin’s lost eye
itself that if it takes every last ounce of will I have, I will return to you
once again,” Valgard groaned. “If I am on my very deathbed, I will cling to
life to see you one last time.”

Satisfied, Edda impaled herself fully on Valgard’s cock in
one swift motion. They cried out simultaneously as their bodies joined. Their
rhythms matched perfectly as they began to thrust together. Valgard’s hands
reached to cup Edda’s firm buttocks as his shaft plunged into her with the
force of a stallion.

“What do you require of me, my lady?” he asked breathlessly,
his question punctuated by the sharp slapping sounds of their skin meeting.

“First, you will bring me to climax,” Edda groaned, bracing
her palms against the firm planes of his chest. “And then you will fill me up.”

“As you wish.” In one swift motion, Valgard flipped Edda
onto her back, hoisting her legs up over his shoulders. “Now you are at my
mercy!”

She nearly screamed with pleasure as he drove into her anew,
his thick shaft ramming into her from an even more exquisite angle. Reaching
down between her legs, Edda stroked her own clitoris desperately as heat built
up deep within.

“Faster,” she urged, head thrown back in ecstasy. “Please!”

Her climax struck her like Thor’s lightning. Edda screamed
Valgard’s name as her entire world exploded into pleasure. Her eardrums bulged
with the force—Edda briefly, deliriously, thought that her orgasm had raised
the very waves themselves. Through the field of stars that bloomed across her
vision, Edda heard Valgard cry out in response, his cock spurting hot, thick
ropes of fluid into her as her channel clenched convulsively around her.

“Gods above,” Valgard said, his voice almost reverent, as he
shook all over. “Woman, it’s a wonder I can be torn from your side at all.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Edda said softly, trying to savor the
feeling of his warmth deep within her. She laid her head on his chest so he
wouldn’t see the tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

“I know, my love,” he murmured. “I know.”

Edda meant to stay awake, to remember every last breath Valgard
took and hold it close, but before she knew it, sleep stole over her like a
thief.

####

The next morning, Edda watched the
Odinsvolk
sail
away at the head of the fleet, a blackness over her heart. Although Valgard had
journeyed on many, many similar campaigns in the years they’d been together,
Edda had a feeling that this was different. Despite his promise, deep in her
heart, she feared she would never see Valgard again.

Edda’s lonely nights were filled with dark dreams of blood
and thunder. She went through the motions of each day with her eyes always on
the shore, always watching for the prow of the
Odinsvolk
. Although she
feared the worst, Edda could not let go of the hope that Valgard would return
to her safely. Each night, she and the other lonely wives shared dinner
together, telling only tales of bravery. Whenever spirits flagged, Edda herself
sprang up with another story about how Harald had captured a runaway chicken or
how Knut had wrestled a wild bear even when his arm was broken. It was hard,
pretending to be in good spirits, but Edda could see that somebody had to keep
the village together. It bolstered her spirit to know that Valgard would be
proud of her strength.

####

Edda was hauling water from the well when the cry went up
that the ships were returning. Her bucket dropped from nerveless fingers; Edda
was well up the path by the time it hit the ground. Her heart, frozen in her
throat, sank when she saw the wolf’s head prow rising over the trees, black
with char. “No!” she cried, her feet fairly flying down the path.

Her fear was realized when she saw Thialfi and several
others lifting Valgard down the plank on a crude stretcher. “My husband!” she
cried, horrified to see the deep red stain on the side of his tunic. “Quickly,
we must tend to your wounds.”

“Take him to my home,” Thialfi ordered. “It’s much closer.”

“Edda,” Valgard whispered, his voice a hoarse ghost of its
normal strength. “My love. I am so happy to see you before...”

“Don’t you say it,” she scolded, her voice shaking. Valgard
just smiled wearily at her from an ashen gray face that she barely recognized
as his. Thialfi and the men laid him gently near the cold fireplace. Thialfi
chased the other men out. “I must report to Jonakr,” he said to Edda. “Care for
him.”

Edda barely heard him as he left. Kneeling next to Valgard,
Edda slowly peeled away the crusted tunic. As soon as the fabric was clear, she
knew that Valgard was going to die. The wound was black with both burns and
decay. With a little cry, she flung herself onto Valgard’s chest. His skin was
feverishly hot to the touch.

“Something wasn’t right,” Valgard said hoarsely. “When we
arrived the whole village was dead already. The sorcerers knew we were coming.
It was an ambush.”

“Do you think Jonakr knew?” Edda asked, horrified. “Could
his grudge extend so far?”

“I don’t know, but somebody told them,” he said, his eyes
closing with the effort of speaking. “Be careful, my love. I am so, so sorry I
must leave you.”

Edda wept silently, holding his hand in hers, until Thialfi
sprang back in.

“Valgard, my friend,” he cried, dropping to his knees.
“Jonakr has declared that you are a hero of legend.”

“How thoughtful,” the wounded man said wryly.

“You don’t understand,” Thialfi said desperately. “When you
have passed, he means to throw Edda onto your pyre.”

Valgard, in spite his great weakness, sat bolt-upright.
“No!” In his rage, his voice was strong as it had ever been. “I will not have
this.” He thought for a long moment. “Thialfi, fetch me the priest from Odin’s
sanctuary.”

“What are you doing?” Edda asked nervously supporting his
back.

“I must disown you in my last minutes,” Valgard replied
grimly, a harsh cough punctuating his words. “I will not drag you to my grave!”

“My husband!” Edda cried, leaping to her feet. “I would
sooner burn than be severed from you. You are my savior, and my love. I cannot
do this!”

“You must!” he roared. “This is all that I ask of you before
I die. Leave me, and wed Thialfi in my place. He will protect your honor and
care for you as I have. He has sworn this to me.”

“I won’t! I could never love another,” Edda wept. “Please,
Valgard, don’t leave me!”

“I must,” he said wearily, the strength run out of him
again. “You are all that I truly care for in this world, Edda. Let me go to my
death knowing you are safe under the protection of my truest friend. Jonakr is
moving against me, and I fear for you already. Please, do this for me.” He
paused, then took her face gently in his hand. “And please, try and love him,
if you can. Thialfi is the brother of my soul, and I would not ask if I did not
think you could. Do not live your life alone, my love, not when such a fire
burns in you. Promise you will grieve me, and then give him at least a chance
to win your heart.”