Page 34 of Her Dark Viking
"Yes Jarl." Despite his words the boy still did not take the amulet from him so Gunnar leaned forward and slipped it around his neck. The thick leather thong hung almost to his waist.
"Take good care of what is yours, Donald, as I do."
Gunnar sank onto his bed,exhausted. Mairead was in the shared hall, he could hear her voice and that of Aigneis as they banked the fire pit and prepared the longhouse for the night. Donald was already asleep, his prized possession still dangling around his neck. Gunnar knew from her bewildered expression that Mairead had no idea why he had awarded the boy such a gift, but Gunnar did not care. The lad got it, he understood the significance of the amulet and that was sufficient. They had arrived at an understanding, he and Donald, and Gunnar was pleased.
Should he have made more of an example of the lad? Perhaps, but it was for him to decide and the matter was now closed.
He closed his eyes, pulled the furs up around his body and allowed fatigue to overcome him. In moments he was asleep.
Gunnar awoke to silence.The longhouse was sleeping now, and he was surrounded by the deep, pitch darkness of the night. Heturned to his side, expecting to encounter the warm body of his bed-slave, and found nothing. He was alone.
What the fuck? If she has run again...
He got out of bed and fumbled in the dark for the lamp he always kept to hand. He lit it with a taper from the smouldering fire pit and used the torch to light his way as he shoved the curtain aside and strode into his deserted hall. He scanned the space, but knew it was empty. The gentle snoring and snuffling sounds from the far end of the longhouse confirmed that his servants were in their beds, but what of Mairead and her little brood?
He moved silently down the hall to the spot where he knew Donald's bed lay. The lad was there, wrapped in blankets, his fingers grasping the amulet even in sleep. Gunnar heaved a sigh of relief. She was here, then. She would not have left without her son.
He moved on, and quickly found what he sought. Mairead had made her own bed on the floor a few feet from Donald's. She slept on her back, Tyra sprawled on top of her. She had collected a few furs but the arrangement did not appear especially warm or comfortable to Gunnar. More to the point, it was not what he had instructed for her.
He sank onto his haunches and reached for her shoulder. "Mairead, wake up."
Her eyes popped open, the sea-green of her eyes dark in the lamplight. "Gunnar? What is it?"
"You disobeyed me. I find I am very displeased with you."
"I did not. What are you?—?"
"Why are you here?" He interrupted her, gesturing to the makeshift bed she had fashioned. "I distinctly recall leaving instructions that you were to sleep in my bed."
"I know that, but..."
"But? If you wish to make excuses, thrall, you may do so in the morning. After I have spanked you for your insubordination. For now, I will require you to go to the place I selected for you. You will put our baby into the cradle beside our bed, and we can all get some sleep." He stood and offered her his hand to help her to rise.
Mairead accepted his assistance and followed him back up the hall to his sleeping chamber. She was barefoot, but wore a long undershirt or sark, made of linen. He noticed that his little thrall shivered in the cool night air but he did not throw extra wood into the fire pit. It was warm in his bed and she would soon enough learn not to leave it. Her bottom would be smarting by the time he was done with her.
Wordlessly she tucked Tyra into her tiny cradle and covered her with the soft blanket provided by Aigneis. The baby never stirred. Mairead scrambled into the still-warm bed and settled among the furs.
Satisfied, Gunnar stretched alongside her. "Come here," he commanded.
She scooted across to him. He turned her so her back was snuggled up hard against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. "You are cold."
"Not now, Jarl. Now I am warm."
"Good. Then sleep. Tomorrow, we talk."
"Talk? Not spank?"
"Spank,thentalk," he amended, and laid his palm on the curve of her bottom to better emphasise his intent.
She did not respond, but the gentle sound of her breathing, low and even, told him she slept. He closed his eyes and did likewise.
"Jarl. Jarl, Tyra is crying."
Gunnar awoke to a none-too-gentle prod to his shoulder. He growled his displeasure.
"Please, she is hungry." Mairead nudged him again.
He buried his nose in the pelt beneath his head. "Are you suggesting I should feed her?"
