Page 17 of Her Dark Viking
“What the fuck do you think you are doing, wench? Take your hands off me or I shall…” His angry rebuke died in his throat asher slender courage crumbled before him. She released his arm and backed off, her lovely green eyes wide as she regarded him.
Fuck. He regretted having scared her so, but she needed to learn who was master here. He strode after her, and was relieved that she did not attempt to run from him. For that, at least, he could be grateful.
Steinn was nowhere to be seen so he could not have his words translated for her, but hopefully she would take his meaning anyway. Equally important, his people would hear what he said and his authority would be reinforced.
“Slaves obey. I am master here, I make the laws and I enforce them. If a whipping is required, I will ensure it is delivered. You will learn to accept my authority, as all do, or you will pay the consequences for it.”
He paused, and was gratified by her small nod. It was enough. He gestured to her to make herself scarce, and was pleased that she did, now, flee.
So far so good. Now he had just to complete his business with Ferris.
The next four strokes reduced the slave to incoherent groaning as he hung from the post. He muttered something, the words lost as he ground his face against the timber.
Gunnar lowered the whip and moved in closer. "What did you say?"
"Please, master..."
"You said something. What was it?" demanded Gunnar.
"I am sorry. I said I was sorry and will not steal any more."
"I am pleased to hear that. It would be a pity if you and I were to have cause to meet here again."
"We will not, I swear it, Jarl."
"Good. Is there more you have to say to me?"
"I will watch the sheep every night. I swear I will not fall asleep again."
"Excellent, but you need not keep watch every night. Your night time shepherding duties are to be doubled however."
"Yes, Jarl. Th-thank you."
"You may thank me when your punishment is over." Gunnar resumed his position and raised the whip again. The man before him trembled but offered no further protest. Gunnar was satisfied, his work was almost done here. He had determined that the man receive twenty lashes, but saw no valuable purpose in pursuing this ordeal right through to the end now that he had achieved the desired result. He had delivered nine strokes so far, and decided that a dozen would suffice.
The whip whistled through the air again, and the lash landed across Ferris' shoulders. Gunnar shook his head to clear it, then proceeded to finish this day's unpleasant business. The final two strokes were swift and harsh, and each elicited an agonised shriek from the recalcitrant and now sufficiently contrite thrall.
Gunnar was glad to be done with the matter, and he suspected Ferris to be even more so. He lowered the whip and instructed Weylin to release the man. As he shrugged back into his tunic a slight movement to his left caught his attention. He turned, and found himself gazing into the startled, terrified eyes of his flame-haired Celt. Mairead gaped at the spectacle before her, beautiful green eyes the colour of autumn moss as they darkened in horror. Then, stifling a scream, she turned on her heel and this time she really did flee.
Odin's fucking ballocks.He could have done without this complication at such a delicate stage in their relationship. He was still exploring the possibilities in his own mind, uncertain just what the status of his recent acquisition might be. His options were narrowing by the moment if the look of fear and revulsion displayed across her beautiful features was anything to go by.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself as he fastened his tunic. It was not as though he could catch her up and talk to her and better explain the necessity for the scene she just witnessed.Where was Steinn when his translation skills were needed?
Gunnar took his time in following Mairead back to his longhouse, fast coming to the conclusion that explanations would have to wait. Aigneis spoke the Gaelic tongue but he was reluctant to converse with Mairead through another slave. In any case, the sooner he set off in pursuit of the raiders who had seized his sheep, the better the chance of regaining his valuable property. The bandits had a two day start on him already, he could not delay his departure.
He entered the longhouse to find a white-faced Mairead seated on a bench by the table, her baby in her arms. Donald leapt up as soon as Gunnar entered and started jabbering something at him. Gunnar looked to Aigneis for some sort of explanation.
"The boy wishes to explore. His mother said he could not leave the longhouse without your permission."
Ah, right. Such caution was a good sign. The woman did at least comprehend her precarious position in his settlement even if he did not.
Gunnar nodded and gestured Donald to the door. "He can go. Make sure he knows he is not to leave the village in any circumstances."
Aigneis conveyed that stipulation and the lad nodded with enthusiasm as he dashed for the exit. The three adults left within the longhouse regarded one another warily as the boy's running footsteps receded.
This is my fucking house.Gunnar repeated that truth to himself as he took his seat at the table opposite Mairead and refused to back down under her accusing stare. He turned to Aigneis.
"I shall be requiring food and fresh clothing. We leave within the hour."