Free The Love Slave by Bertrice Small Page B

to be nuns. Their families never expect to see them again. It makes it easy for us. If I ever get another like this one I’ve just sold ye, I’ll bring her to ye, Donal Righ.” He chuckled good-naturedly.
    Abu returned, his little legs almost buckling beneath the weight of his master’s strongbox. He was accompanied by a tall, spare woman carrying a tray with wine and goblets. Gunnar Bloodaxe watched, astounded, as Donal Righ removed small bars of silver from the brimming chest. The Norseman was a simple man with a single ship, a farmstead in Daneland, and two wives. In his entire life he had never seen so many riches. He wondered if there was some way in which he could steal the money box, but then decided there was not. Donal Righ’s house was too well fortified.
    Donal Righ shoved the bars of silver across the table to Gunnar Bloodaxe. “The price agreed upon,” he said, closing the chest. He signaled to Abu, who picked it up and tottered from the chamber.
    The serving woman had already poured them goblets of wine, and now stood deferentially by, awaiting her master’s further orders.
    Donal Righ picked up his goblet, nodding to his companion to do the same. “
Skaal!
” he said, and drank the wine down in a single gulp.
    “
Skaal!
” Gunnar Bloodaxe returned, doing the same even as he pocketed the silver.
    “May ye have good seas for yer return home,” Donal Righ said, dismissing the Viking, who, realizing there was nothing left to say, thanked his host and departed. As he walked back through the town toward the docks, he wondered a momentabout the beauteous Regan MacDuff. Then seeing Thor Strongbow coming toward him, Gunnar Bloodaxe hailed his mate and together they continued on their way back to the ship.

Cha
p
ter 3
    “W hat manner of place is this?” Regan asked the old woman called Erda.
    “Why, child, it is a bathhouse,” she replied “Have ye ne’er seen a bathhouse before? This is my domain. I am mistress here. It is my task to see that all of Donal Righ’s expensive slaves are washed and cosseted so that they may be shown to their best advantage.”
    “At home we washed in the loch,” Regan replied.
    “Ye will like this,” Erda promised. She turned to Morag. “Ye’ll wash too, lassie, but watch what I do for ’twill be yer task in the future to see to yer mistress’s bath. Slaves such as the lady Regan are sold into the eastern countries, and there bathing is an art.”
    Abu had brought them from Donal Righ’s chamber to this square stone building, where he had left them in the care of the plump old lady now attending them. At her direction they removed their clothes, a trifle surprised to see Erda removing hers as well. They were shocked to discover that she had no hair upon her body.
    She saw them exchange looks, and chuckled. “The Moors like their ladies, both young and old, as smooth as silk,” she told them. “The master’s mother was a Moorish lady. I served her as a girl. In practices conducive to cleanliness, Donal Righ prefers the eastern ways. He says they are healthier.”
    “Why has
Righ
been added to his name?” Regan asked. “He is not a real king, is he?” The room in which they were now standing was filled with steam, and very hot. She had never been so warm in her entire life.
    “He was the only child, alas, that my mistress ever bore her good lord. She called him the king of her heart when he was a babe and small lad. Eventually everyone began to call him Donal Righ.” Erda ladled some water from a bucket over a pit of steaming stones, and immediately a foggy vapor arose with a sizzle and a hiss.
    “I am going to die in this heat,” Morag complained.
    “Ye’ll get used to it, lassie,” Erda said with a chuckle.
    “Why do we do this?” Regan asked her.
    “The steam makes yer body sweat, aiding in the removal of dirt and poisons from yer skin, lady,” Erda explained. Once the girls were oozing sweat, she took up a silver scraping tool and drew it