Page 30 of Her Rogue Viking
“You will be silent, girl. Harald, fetch me a strap.”
“No!” Fiona turned and made to head back to the one place that seemed to offer any form of sanctuary. She had not managed two paces toward the curtain before Brynhild seized her elbow.
Fiona tried to yank her arm free, but Brynhild’s fingers tightened, digging into her flesh. Terrified now, Fiona tried to wrestle out of her grip but could not get loose.
“Let me go, Viking. I do not answer to you, I shall?—”
“Fiona!” The loud, stern tone of Ulfric brought the unequal struggle to an abrupt end. Both women turned to where hestood, framed in the doorway, his expression thunderous. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Fiona had known a moment of relief at his arrival. That was instantly dispelled when he narrowed his eyes in a forbidding glare.
“I… I only?—”
“This vindictive little slut of yours saw fit to tamper with my weaving. Now I shall have to repair the damage she has wrought and that will take hours.”
The woman exaggerated and Fiona opened her mouth to say so.
“Did you touch the loom, Fiona?” Ulfric’s question was terse.
“Yes, but?—”
“Did you have permission to do so?” He was evidently not interested in any mitigating factors.
“Not exactly, but I?—”
“Not at all,” spat Brynhild. “I stepped out to check on Njal and told all of them to continue with their work.” She swept out an arm to indicate the group of startled thralls now watching open-mouthed. “For this idle wench that meant she should finish shelling the peas. She had no cause to so much as leave the table, let alone approach my weaving. She has earned a whipping, and I shall be happy to deliver it.”
“I told you, if my bed-slave requires to be chastised I shall do it myself.” Ulfric’s tone was low, bearing more than a hint of warning to Fiona’s mind.
“Then—”
“Harald, you will fetch a switch. And be quick about it.”
The entire exchange had been conducted in her native Gaelic and Fiona gasped as the implications sank in. Surely he could not, would not…
One glance at his stern visage convinced her he could and he would.
“Go and lie across my bed, face down, and your bottom bared. I shall be there in a few moments.”
Fiona stood rooted to the spot, her mouth agape. She was horrified at the turn events had taken. From such innocent beginnings…
His brow furrowed, his tone sharpened. “Do you require assistance to get yourself there?”
She shook her head, still unable to formulate words.
“Go, then. Now. If you are not ready to receive your punishment when I enter the chamber, the number of strokes will be doubled. If I require the assistance of my other thralls to ensure that you remain still and accept your whipping, then it will be trebled.”
Fiona managed to shake herself from her state of stunned paralysis and started for the curtain once more. She could not believe this was really happening. The damage she had caused to the weaving was minimal, and had been unintentional, an accident. Surely she could make him understand. She turned to face Ulfric once more. “Please…”
“Do not try my patience, little Celt. You have much to learn, and we shall make a start here and now.”
She hugged the outer wall of the longhouse as she hobbled back into the sleeping chamber. Fiona eyed the bed balefully, the furs and blankets still tangled as she had not waited to straighten them before embarking on her exploration earlier. There was no time now.
She lowered her body onto the mattress, taking care to ensure that her bottom would be facing away from the curtain. She had no desire to offer further amusement to Ulfric’s sister should Brynhild chance to look this way. Once in place, Fiona reached back and grabbed the hem of her smock.
The cooler air now that she was away from the fire wafted across her exposed buttocks. Fiona clenched hard. How manystrokes would he deliver? How hard would he beat her? She felt the shift in the chilly air as the curtain moved and knew she would soon have answers to her questions.
“Do you have anything to say, little Celt?” His tone was less severe now, but still she shook her head. What was the point in trying to reason with these barbaric Vikings?
