He lifted her again, draping her across his thighs. He tugged the blanket from around her, tossing it aside. Her round ass was still pink from the spanking of the previous night. He rested a hand on the heated flesh, enjoying the way she went still, not breathing. He gave her ass a squeeze. “You know where your hands belong.”
She clasped her hands at the small of her back and looked up at him from beneath the pale strands of her hair that had escaped the winged band. He brought his hand down on the heated flesh, knowing she could feel his cock against her belly. Like the last evening, she squirmed, as if to escape from the spanking. He paused every so often, leaving her to wait for the next and to tilt her chin up to look at her blushing face. He saw no disgust, nothing but lust-glazed, dark eyes.
A few quick swats on her inner thighs reminded her to keep her legs spread. Her pussy was damp, juices seeping onto his trousers. He watched the flesh quiver as he brought his hand down on her ass again. She gave a loud moan, spreading her legs wider.
With a wicked grin, he gave her pussy a light pinch. “Keep your legs spread,” he admonished when she started to close them. He ran his knuckles along her damp sex. She arched against his hand, a silent plea for more.
With a wicked grin, he lifted her again. This time, he set her at his feet, on her knees. She adjusted her position so her bottom rested on her heels, knees wide apart. She watched him from beneath lowered lashes.
He gave her breasts a swat—first the right, then the left, the pale flesh swaying. She sucked in a breath, white teeth biting down on her bottom lip. He reached lower to graze his fingers along her pussy. She shuddered, hips rocking forward in the hopes for further stimulation.
Her admonishment came not in the form of words but a pinching of her pubic lips, harder than before.
“Master,” she pleaded.
“No mercy for you, little Freya. Not yet. I see how wet you are for me. Keep your hips still.” He continued the light stroking, savoring each soft whimper. Her shoulders trembled as she warred within herself. She struggled so to please him.
A cough from outside had him immediately on his feet. He draped the cloak over her shoulders.
She looked up at him for instruction. He placed his hand to her lips and whispered, “It’s best we leave the tent now. I’m sorry, Freya. I was not going to leave you in want for long. Have a few more drinks and talk to Enbarr in your thoughts. When he’s nearby, drunkenly seduce me, and I will attempt to take you to the wood for privacy.”
****
Julia was at Vercingetorix’s campfire with Merrick, unfortunately. It was as if they were waiting for Siegfried. They probably were. Siegfried’s tension was almost palpable, the way his breathing slowed yet his heart beat faster. Freya was against his chest as he carried her to protect her feet
He settled her on his lap, and she tried to focus on him and not on Julia or Merrick.
“Siegfried, Merrick has seen to our supplies in your absence,” Vercingetorix said. “An army’s needs never decrease.”
“Yes, I’ve been providing Roman arms while you were finding your next vict—, er, bedmate.”
“I’m a victory?” Freya scratched her head, purposely misunderstanding. How dare Merrick insult Siegfried. “I guess I am. That’s nice, Merrick.”
“Idunn,” Siegfried said, ignoring their banter. “Please fetch Freya a pair of shoes. A pair that fits her well. The best you have. Also some soup. Vegetable.”
“I’ll have to fit her,” Idunn said. “I can take her with—”
“I like her right where she is.” His hand traced suggestively over Freya’s torso, a move made to be seen by the rest. “I won’t be staying at the campfire very long, methinks.”
Freya gave a sultry laugh and stroked his chest, moaning softly. Let Julia see Siegfried had a woman who’d accept him. That cough outside the tent had Freya wondering if Julia hadn’t been spying. She’d smelled the woman’s perfume when Siegfried had been punishing with her, but she hadn’t noticed until they had been disturbed.
“A pity,” Merrick said. “It has been a while since we’ve spoken.”
“That is true.” Siegfried slid Freya off his groin and onto his knee. Idunn left the fire. “Last I heard, you were scuttling Roman and tribal ships alike. Have you narrowed your prey?”
“It seems so.” Merrick stretched out his leather-clad legs. “Oh, I still take tribal ships, only not the ones who have allied with the Vercingetorix. If you’re not our ally, you’re a traitor, after all.”
“Vercingetorix, this isn’t like you,” Siegfried said. “I gave you enough to wage this battle against Caesar’s forces. Merrick’s a slaver. It doesn’t matter if it’s Romans or tribesmen. I know he takes children, too. How is that honorable?”
“Honor?” Vercingetorix laughed. “There is no honor in war. It does not surprise me that your pretty ideas are shared by a Remi princess.” He then gestured at Idunn, who approached with several pairs of shoes under one arm and a bowl of soup in her free hand. “She lost her husband and three sons to Rome.”
Siegfried’s frown deepened. “Why fight if you aren’t going to create something better? Why should these men fight to have more of the same?”
Freya took the soup and began wolfing it down as Idunn started fitting her for shoes. She kept her gaze on Idunn and the meal, feigning disinterest in the conversation around her.
“Because, Siegfried, it’s all about power,” Merrick said. “If you want to win, to dominate, there is no room for honor or principle. People like you, who are unwilling to sacrifice principle, are the reason resistance struggles.”
Freya almost choked on a carrot. She wanted to set the soup aside, but she was ravenous after her exertions and she was going to need her energy.
“The difference between the resistance and Rome,” Merrick added, “is who is in charge.”
Siegfried looked as disgusted as Freya felt. He was also nudging her. She wiggled her rump against him and focused on calling Enbarr.
“I am already here, Bright Mane. I’ve been waiting since the trouble with Julia. Too much human metal for me to be involved here. They would not spare me as they would have in Folkvang.”
“Then why did you let us come here?” Freya asked. “You knew, didn’t you?”
Some of those nearby gave her strange stares. Then again, she
was
pretending to be a little mad. “I’m talking to my horse. I really miss him, and sometimes I like to pretend he’s right here.”
“That one is…touched,” Julia said with a nod at Freya.
“Not a horse and do not mention my name. Whatever you do. I had to let the two of you go there. I sensed you would bond. I have just finished preparing the Averni horses to run wild along with a flock of butterflies to further confuse things. They await the command of He Whose Mane Tames the Wind.”
“Where’s my brother?” The conversation had resumed around her. She only got the occasional curious stare. But Siegfried’s petting became more intense. Idunn remained quiet, still fitting her with shoes.
“With the others or perhaps at his hall in the Otherworld. I sense it is a matter of the heart. Come to me whenever you are ready, Bright Mane. Leave camp and I will be there, so fleet of hoof that nary a human arrow can strike my silvery hide.”
Idunn left her with a pair of shoes that fit well enough, and Freya felt better after her soup. She squirmed in Siegfried’s arms, moaning loudly, letting him know she was ready. She turned to face him, nibbling his lip.
“How can I say no to this?” Siegfried stood, lifting Freya with him. “I’ll return when I’ve finished with my lusty wench.”
Vercingetorix rose. “I must insist you remain, given the dangers.”
Siegfried gave Freya a long glance, as if debating the next course of action. “You have sentries posted at distances from the camp.”
“Vercingetorix, let me,” Merrick said, holding up a hand. “You are not leaving, Siegfried. Let’s drop the niceties. There are none between us.”
“Vercingetorix, when did I become your enemy?” Siegfried held Freya tighter against his chest.
“When you abandoned them for a few months,” Merrick said. “When no one knew how to reach you. Yes, yes, finding a little slave girl to replace Julia was very important.” He took a step forward. “There are enough who would pay to take your head. Your whore is wanted as well. You were a famed gladiator, Siegfried. But I wonder how well the princess would fare in a fight.
“Now, set aside your woman and prepare to wear chains again. Only this time, you won’t be able to fight your way free. I was going to use your ship to take you to Rome, have my payback before I gave you to your enemies. I took your ship. It is mine by rights.”
“So, whoever takes over a ship, it belongs to them?” Freya asked.
“Aye. That’s the law of the sea,” Merrick said. “Is your woman that touched in the head, Siegfried?”
“Silly, that’s not the law of the sea. I can double check with Hedwig, but I’m sure she’s going to agree with me. Besides, we took it anyways.” Freya called upon the water in the air to form around her under Siegfried’s cape, mingling with night to create a tunic of pale purple and breeches of a darker shade. She faced Merrick. “What? You thought we were going to leave the boat without making sure you couldn’t take it. That’s up to you if you want to take it from the Sea Witch.”
Merrick took another step toward them and raised a hand, as if to strike Freya. She tossed the cape aside and lithely dodged the blow. Siegfried rammed a fist into the man’s stomach. But the space between them was now quickly filled with more of Vercingetorix’s men.
“Take him,” Vercingetorix said. “Chain him.”
They were both surrounded by tribesmen and Druids, too. Siegfried risked his life for people who would betray him so easily? Anger reared inside of her. The wind roared, whipping her hair around her shoulders and into her face. She drew on her powers, and a few of the Druids fell, blood seeping from beneath their hoods. No one noticed in the confusion, the bleeding men trampled in the press. Why did they think they needed so many to take down Siegfried?
The storm picked up. Rain beat down, and tents flew into the night.
There was only one chance of escape. That
part
of her wanted to break free of whatever held it back.
“Please, I don’t want to kill all of you,” Freya said, but no one listened. The men shouted to each other in the rain as Siegfried fought to keep her at his side, trying to shoulder the men away. “Master, don’t try to control me.” But there was no way he could hear her across the chaos.
She jumped up and down trying to see Siegfried. She caught the glimmer of heavy chains and sun-streaked hair. Their gazes met before a Druid’s fist slammed into his jaw.
Freya tipped her head back and roared, really roared. Glass shattered, all the mirror fragments scattering like lost stars amidst the lightning.
Break. Chains. Break. Bonds. Free. Myself.
Her own voice snarled in her head, roared as she roared aloud. All around at the campfire had gone silent, staring at her. Others, in the distance, what seemed so far away, were seeking shelter. There was no shelter. Tents had blown open, leather and stakes swallowed up into the angry night.
She licked her lips and stalked toward Merrick, men scurrying from her path. But blades were still drawn on the chained Siegfried. “Oh, yes, Merrick. You thought some inhuman creature destroyed your men, didn’t you.”
Merrick dared to step forward. “Those were Siegfried’s men.”
“I found his men chained in the hold. Freed them…after I was done creating that work of art on the decks above. Did you like that? Those were
your
men.” Something was still holding her back. More power was available to her, hiding below the surface, still trying to break free. “You wanted to see how I’d fare in the arena. Let’s. Go.”
****
Siegfried was pulled further from Freya by the heavy chains fastened to his throat, wrists, and ankles. With every ounce of his being, he fought against the Druids holding his tethers. He felt her fighting, too, the struggle to keep control overwhelming. The men at his feet were no longer recognizable as human. The flesh had been shredded by exploding blood vessels. What would happen to Freya if he loosened his hold over her?
“Get him inside!” Vercingetorix bellowed above the storm. “Use him against the witch.”
Freya roared again, the earth shaking as her internal struggle for power continued. Several tribesmen were struck with lightning. But the rain didn’t even touch Siegfried.
“I’ll take care of his crazy bitch,” Merrick said. “Slowly. She’ll still be alive when I’m done.”
Siegfried hated the feel of the heavy collar on his throat, the chains weighing down his limbs, the feeling of complete helplessness. Especially when he needed to help Freya.
His breathing slowed as he thought about her powers. He felt them strengthen, like a veil of electricity surrounding her, concealing something savage, something dangerous.
Fomori.
It fought against him, whatever it was. This was different than any other time. There was a jolt through his skull, as if he’d had too much of Hedwig’s Delirious. A vision blurred, then a flash of glowing purple eyes and a large jaw filled with gigantic white fangs. The glow faded, revealing dark eyes, filled with recognition. The jaw closed, fangs disappeared.
Free me.
Freya’s voice, yet more primitive, snarling, resonated through his head.
He imagined himself removing the chains that bound the creature.
Freya screamed. He opened his eyes to see massive amounts of purple light surrounding her, obscuring her from his view.
Siegfried was slammed to the earth, a knee in his back. The men imprisoning him muttered prayers to their gods, as if that were going to help them.
Her scream stopped, yet the storm raged. He looked over his shoulder as the purple light dimmed, revealing something brighter. The fangs were there, only not in his thoughts. A forked tongue slithered from between the huge teeth. The body was sinuous and graceful, a purple belly and plates along its back. But it, no,
she
wasn’t covered in scales as he suspected. She was covered in moon-white feathers, great swan-like wings unfolding from her back.