In Thrall to the Viking Read online

  In Thrall to the Viking

  In Thrall to the Viking

  Viking Kind Series Book 1

  M.E. Sháen

  Lemon Grove Life, LLC

  Books by M.E. Sháen

  Viking Kind Series

  In Thrall to the Viking

  Raven’s Revenge

  To Marry a Viking

  Standalones

  Purity

  Loki and Liv (writing as Signy Sigurdson)

  A Wolf of White (writing as Signy Sigurdson)

  Works of Non-Fiction

  Materia Medica - Herbal journal

  Ready, Set, Reset! - Self Help

  Altar to Zap! A Pagan Primer - PreK - Kindergarten Activity Workbook

  Magical Me A Pagan Child's Book of Shadows

  Follow M.E. Sháen at: https://www.meshaen.com

  Dedication

  To all the warriors and lovers.

  A special thank you to my lovely beta readers, Stephanie, Alexandria, and Lori for their dedication and input to the creation of the Viking Kind series.

  Follow M.E. Sháen at: https://www.meshaen.com

  1

  The first hint my life was over came with the scream of the abbot and the ring of the old, iron bells. We skittered in all directions at the panic in the abbot's voice.

  I raced from the garden with novice Mathilda on my heels. The abbot yelled for all the priests to go with him into the low building that housed the altar and the monastery treasures.

  Confusion flooded my mind as I caught sight of dragon heads that loomed over the wall. Were we being attacked by dragons? I stopped and Mathilda almost ran into me.

  "Come on, Nerys Elen! We've got to find safety!" She tugged my arm as she practically shrieked the words at me.

  "What are we getting safety from? What's happening?"

  As if the gods themselves strove to answer my question, a group of men appeared around a corner.

  Mathilda sprinted away, only to be caught up by one of the men, and tossed over his shoulder.

  I turned to flee and found my way blocked with yet more men who flooded the courtyard now. They all carried weapons and seemed to be cutting down anyone they came across.

  I turned in another direction and blood splattered across my face as one of the brothers was all but sliced in half.

  I dropped to my knees and began to crawl toward the gates. I hoped no one would see me in all the confusion.

  I managed to slip past legs covered in leather and furs and saw a break between the men up ahead. I would make it out of the courtyard!

  Then the ground fell away as I was lifted bodily by yet another man that I had not seen.

  "Not so fast, little one."

  "Put me down!" I kicked at him and tried to yank at his long hair.

  He smacked me in the mouth before he tossed me across his shoulder as I had seen done with Mathilda.

  "Feisty vixen, aren't you?"

  I struggled to free myself and this time he smacked me across the backside. I yelped and hit at his back with my fists, all the while kicking my feet in hope that I might connect with his stomach, and he would drop me.

  He carried me through the gates and toward the sea where I'd seen the dragon heads.

  He dumped me onto the sand next to a small group of both priests and nuns from the monastery. As soon as I hit the ground, I climbed to my feet to chase the man who had brought me here.

  "Why are you doing this? Why are you attacking helpless men and women?" I demanded of his broad back.

  He spun to face me and I stopped in my tracks. His gray eyes held amusement, but he did not smile at me. Instead, he took another step closer to me to shove me to the ground once more.

  "We come for wealth."

  "Why are we out here then?"

  Now he smiled. "You will become thralls."

  Before I could reply or get to my feet once more, he turned and stomped back up the beach.

  I was left to stare at his retreating back and at the smoke that rose above the walls.

  "Nerys Elen, come away. They are dangerous men."

  I shrugged off the gentle hands that had come to rest on my shoulders. "Let go of me. They will not get away with this."

  I started after the man who had left me on the sand, but another man stepped into my path to hold his axe in my face.

  "Let me pass!"

  He shook his head. "Sit down or I will cut the legs from beneath you."

  He said the words as if discussing the weather and I found myself tugged back to the little group of priests and nuns behind me.

  "Nerys, you cannot fight them. They are evil and Godless creatures."

  "They are men and like men, they will die."

  The old priest shook his head at me. "Come and pray with us, Nerys Elen. It is up to God whether we live or die."

  "God?" I practically shouted in his face.

  "What god would wish us to sit meekly by while our brothers and sisters are murdered for a little silver? Surely your God does not wish us to remain here on the wet sand while your home is destroyed and pillaged for treasure?"

  I spoke to deaf ears. He merely lowered his gaze and knelt by the others to begin to pray once more.

  I remained standing to watch as man after man returned to the beach laden with the treasures from the monastery.

  No others were brought to the beach. Surely they no longer lived. From where I stood, I could see that the church now splattered with the blood of the men of God, despoiled of all its ornaments. Even the large cross that stood atop the altar had been removed.

  I was ready when they returned to the beach. Most were busy loading the crates and loose treasures on the boats. We were guarded by a few other men, who spoke among themselves in their own tongue. The one who had taken me appeared to be the leader, for he gave orders and answered questions from the other men.

  I sidled away from the little group of survivors and toward the men.

  I now saw the prows of their ships were what I'd glimpsed over the walls of the monastery before. Each had a dragon face carved upon it. I understood why the abbot panicked the way that he did. They were almost as terrifying as the men who crewed them.

  I managed to get close to him without arousing attention. He had his back to me as he spoke with another man. I saw my chance and I took it. I ran at him. He turned as I did and I slammed into his belly with my full weight.

  I suspect, in normal times, I wouldn't be able to move the man at all. These were not normal times. We were on the sand, and he wasn't paying attention. I knocked him to the ground, to the amusement of his men who all seemed to stop to jeer and joke.

  He scowled at me and caught my hand when I tried to hit him.

  "Ah ah, little vixen. You should know your place."

  And with that, he punched me in the forehead. I reeled back and fell off him with a groan of pain.

  He stood and put his booted foot across my neck, and pinned me down. I made to free myself but might as well-tried to move a tree. He didn't budge an inch other than to increase the pressure on my neck until I stopped fighting.

  "Better. You will sit with the others and make no more trouble for me, vixen. Do you understand?"

  "Why did you not kill us all?" I demanded of him.

  He chuckled. "I have already said you are to be a thrall. It is not a word you know?"

  I could not shake my head, so I settled for a baleful glare in his direction.

  He smiled down at me. "Slave is the word?”

  My eyes must have widened for he nodded and his smile grew wider.

  "You know that word. You are to be a slave."

  "Never."

  At this, he knelt beside me. "The choice is not for you to make, little
vixen."

  He stroked my cheek, then rose and gestured toward the others. "Go where you are told. Now."

  And with that, he dismissed my existence once more.

  I trudged back to the group who yet prayed for salvation, and sat down.

  "You see? They are evil men. You cannot defeat them, nor reason with them.”

  2

  The trip across the sea sickened many of the priests and nuns who were with me by these godless men. Those who died were tossed over the edge of the shallow boats without another thought. This, of course, upset those who yet lived, and they prayed for forgiveness for the fallen of their number.

  I remained silent and chose not to communicate with those enslaved with me. They only ever prayed or discussed these Northmen, these pagan Danes who bowed not to the Christ God.

  I could not find the words they spoke within myself, and I was not interested in idle rumors when it came to our captors.

  Our captors, on the other hand, were very interested in us. They spent much of the days and nights we traveled in casual amusements and taunted the men in their strange tongue. Some went so far as to grab at the plain sackcloth our women wore and even to fondle a few.

  I was left strictly alone, though I felt their eyes upon me more than once. It was because of the strange one, I thought, their leader. He had taken me and made me off-limits to the others. But, he never bothered to talk to me or glance in my direction.

  I counted the nights. Six in all. The seas beneath us grew gradually darker and grayer, like the eyes of my captor. The skies, too, felt less friendly as the sun hid behind clouds.

  It was on the sixth evening that land appeared. At first, I could see nothing though our captors whooped and yelled excitedly amongst themselves. Then, out of the unending sea, there came the hint of sand. Yes, I could see low-lying land. As we drew closer, men and women could be seen standing on the dunes to greet the returning raiders.

  When we entered the shallows, one of the nuns leaped over the side of the ship and tried to escape. We all bore silent witness when one of the men hopped out behind her and, with a laugh, plunged his axe into her back.

  Those around me wailed and sent up prayers to heaven for her soul. I merely sat among them to stare at those who seemed to find it good sport.

  I lifted my gaze higher to discover the leader watched me, alert and piercing. He grinned at me when he saw I noticed his attention. I turned away to hide the fury he brought in me.

  Who were these men who thought nothing of attacking innocent and helpless religious men and women? What had they ever done to those from so far away across the seas?

  But I knew. Oh, yes. It was for our wealth we were attacked.

  One of the men came to our little group then and pointed toward shore. When no one moved, he grabbed the nun nearest me by her arm to drag her away. That caused the priests to shout but none thought to stand up for her.

  I rose and stepped in front of him. He snarled words at me. I shook my head.

  "Let her go."

  He took a step toward me to shove me when the gray-eyed leader shouted something harsh. The man immediately let his own hand drop with a sneer that would curdle milk.

  "It is not your place."

  I snapped my head up to glare at him. "Then whose place is it? Tell me so I may make certain they stand and fight."

  He chuckled. "You will do battle for them?" He gestured at the group behind me.

  "They will not do so for themselves."

  He closed the distance between us and I had to lift my head to stare him in the eyes.

  "If they do not fight, they deserve what they get."

  "They are followers of God. They believe in peace, not fighting."

  He smiled a little at that. "Which gods do they follow to stay their hands from a battle for their own freedom?"

  "The one God. The Christ God."

  He shook his head. "It means nothing. They are passive. And you," he took me by the arm, "will not fight for them."

  He propelled me toward the far end of the ship. I had no choice but to walk or I would fall.

  Another man made some remark as he passed us and the one who held me replied in kind and laughed. His inattention to me gave me the moment I needed. I turned on one heel and landed a blow to his cheek.

  The smile dropped off his lips, and he turned eyes gone cold on me. Without a word, he lifted me over his shoulder and started down a plank laid from the side of the boat to the sandy shore.

  3

  I struggled against him as he strode through the crowds still greeting the returned men. He was strong, too strong for me to defeat, and too strong for me to escape.

  Still, I tried. No sense in making it easier for him. And, I was angry at the treatment this smelly, dirty man thought I deserved.

  Now that we were away from the crowd at the shore, I saw these men lived in a small village. Every building was made of rough-hewn logs and had a thatched roof. Many of the roofs were green with grass that grew upon them.

  It looked like there were perhaps seven homes scattered around a central court, with one longhouse opposite.

  Though I was upside down, I noted there were wood and wattle fences running between fields around each and every house except the biggest, which I guessed was a feasting hall or the like.

  He went through an open gate and past a few people among the chickens and animals in the yard. They greeted him, and he returned the greetings in that strange language of theirs.

  Then, he kicked open the door to the house to stride across the room. He tossed me atop a fur-covered bench.

  I rushed him immediately. I well knew the bench doubled as a bed and would not let this man take my dignity with my freedom. I spit at him and lashed out to hit him.

  With a laugh, he batted away my attack as if I were a child.

  "Spirit," he approved.

  Infuriated, I attacked him again. "Give me a chance and I will put a dagger in your heart, you bastard."

  The door slammed open behind him and, for a moment, his attention was diverted. I threw myself atop him, unbalancing him. He grabbed me as he toppled and spun so that I landed on my back on the hard-packed dirt floor. My breath escaped in a rush making him laugh.

  Another man had come in and now he dumped a woman near the fireplace in the center of the house. She curled into herself with her bound hands before her.

  He said something to which the leader, who still sat atop me, replied. "That meek thing is worth the trouble when you say this little vixen is not?"

  I fought and he put his hand to my throat.

  "Stop it," he told me in a quiet voice. "Before you get hurt."

  I spit at him again. His brows rose as he wiped the spittle from his cheek with two fingers. "You are feisty." He grabbed my chin, his strong fingers digging into the soft flesh of my neck until my mouth opened. Then he spit on my tongue and thrust his palm up beneath until my teeth cracked together.

  "Swallow."

  I shook my head, hardly able to see him as red anger swirled before my eyes.

  He shook my head for me. "Swallow."

  He pinched my nose shut and put his other hand over my mouth so that I could not breathe.

  Panic made me struggle more, but he had me caged beneath him. My breath wore out and I struggled again, anger replaced by fear he would let me die this way.

  He leaned to me and whispered, "swallow or die," against my cheek.

  I felt my throat convulse as I swallowed, and he removed his hand from my face. I gagged and gasped air.

  "Stop trying to fight me, little vixen. You will not win."

  The other man had watched this. Now, he took a seat to plant his feet on either side of the woman who cowered before him. "Who is she? Who are you?"

  So, he spoke my language too. Did they all and just feign that they did not? I shifted my gaze from the one still sitting on me to him. I snarled and was rewarded with a smack across the mouth.

  "Be nice," he warne
d.

  "Go fuck yourself,"

  He laughed instantly. "Perhaps you will yet have the chance, vixen. My brother asked you a question." He put his hand to my forehead to force me to look up at the other man.

  "Nerys Elen,"

  "This is Nerys Elen, brother," the one on me said with a smirk. "Such a vixen. How did you come by such spirit, I wonder?"

  "My gods."

  His brows went up once more. "Your gods? Who are your gods?"

  "She is evil, lord."

  He stared down at the cowering woman. "She dresses like you," he pointed out as his fingers plucked at my robes.

  "Her people do not accept God." Her eyes rolled, and the image of a frightened cow came to mind. "Like you."

  His gaze returned to me. "Is that so? Well, not I understand your spirit, vixen. I am going to rise and you are not going to attack me again or I will string you up from the rafters by your tits, clear?"

  I tensed beneath him. I would spring up if he gave me so much as an inch in which to try.

  He punched me in the side of the head before he rose to put one foot across my neck. "The others?" He asked his brother as if I were of no concern at all.

  "Mostly dead. Lars found a plaything. I am uncertain she still lives.”

  "Have whichever of their women may yet survive brought to the mead hall. They will make decent wives. Put the men up for sale as thralls.

  He clucked his tongue at me when I tried to wiggle free of his foot.

  "I have to teach this one a lesson."

  "Just slice her throat and be done. She's trouble, Halfdan."

  "She has uses."

  The other man sighed. "You will never learn," he proclaimed as he bent to lift the other woman across his shoulders once more. "One of these days one of these bitches you seem to like so much will do you harm.