Free Enthralled: Viking Lore, Book 1 by Emma Prince Page A

checked on her
several times each day, he rarely met her eyes or said more than was necessary.
Though she was glad that he mostly left her alone, a small part of her felt
guilty for telling him he was like Grimar. He’d seen to her needs and hadn’t
forced her to work—or forced her to do aught else for that matter.
    She pushed the thoughts
aside, reminding herself that he was a Viking barbarian and she was his slave.
Just because he treated her kindly now didn’t mean that she should be glad for
her situation.
    “What is it?” she
replied, trying to keep her voice neutral.
    “We are only a day away
from my village,” he said.
    Her stomach clenched
uncomfortably, though blessedly she didn’t fear that she would vomit. Her
innards had finally settled to the sea’s rhythms in the last day. But the
thought of setting foot inside a Viking village had her quaking.
    “And…and what awaits me
there?”
    “That is what we must
discuss,” he said, his eyes pinching slightly. “You are my thrall, and you’ll
be expected to behave accordingly.”
    She sucked in a hard
breath at his words. He didn’t need to remind her that she was a slave, yet she
realized that she had no idea what to anticipate in his village. “What does
that mean?”
    “It means that you are
to obey my every word, and my every wish.”
    A spike of outraged
heat sliced through her. His every wish? He met her gaze, his face hard
and…ill at ease? She didn’t know how to interpret his apparent discomfort, but
suddenly she became acutely aware of how much space his body took up under the
low awning.
    His broad shoulders,
clad only in a thin linen tunic, almost completely blocked her into the point
of the stern. His forearms rested easily on his knees, the sleeves of the tunic
rolled back to reveal bronzed, corded muscles. This close, she could see just
how callused and large his hands were. She’d never seen so much of a man’s skin
before, especially one so imposing and strong. This was a man who could take
whatever he wanted.
    She shivered and leaned
back, trying to escape not only his dominating presence but also his foreboding
words.
    A muscle twitched in
his jaw as he watched her. “I’d hoped that my actions these last few days would
have shown you that I am not the type of man to abuse my power over you.”
    “Power is always
inevitably abused,” she whispered, her thoughts flitting back to Abbess Hilda
and Brother Egbert.
    A taut silence
stretched between them until Eirik cleared his throat. “As my thrall, you are
also entitled to my protection. I think you should know that…that Grimar wants
to call a council meeting to challenge my claim to you.”
    Confusion swamped her.
“He wants to…he can…what is a council meeting?”
    “It is a gathering of
the village’s free men and women to witness the passing of judgements and the
handing down of rulings. The village’s Jarl, the leader, will preside and have
the final say over whom you belong to—me or my cousin.”
    Laurel swallowed hard.
“And who is this Jarl, this leader, who gets to decide my fate?”
    “He is my uncle and
Grimar’s father,” Eirik gritted out.
    Her heart tumbled to
the pit of her stomach. Grimar’s father would determine if she would be returned
as the monster’s slave?
    Suddenly she longed
with all her being to remain in Eirik’s care. The clarity of the thought caught
her off-guard. Was being the slave of one Viking savage really better than
serving another? Aye, Eirik had shown her consideration and mercy these past
several days. Yet being any man’s slave made her heart scream in impotent rage.
    “Then…then I may be
made Grimar’s thrall once more?” The words were almost too bitter in her mouth
to get out. But she needed to say them, to face the reality that awaited her
when they landed.
    “Ja, but Laurel—” He
cupped her chin in one large, callused hand. The gentle yet firm touch sent
ripples of awareness through her body. “—I