Viking by Connie Mason Read Free Book Online

head. She was nearly as tall as Thorne, but there was nothing masculine about her body. She was all woman, clad in rich silks and wearing gems at her throat and upon her fingers. And she was young, possibly no more than seventeen or eighteen.
    “Bretta,” Thorne greeted. “I had forgotten you were here.”
    “Obviously,” Bretta said, glaring at Fiona. “I meant what I said, Thorne. Once we are married, Iwill not tolerate the witch in my home. Or in your bed,” she added with a hint of menace.
    Thorne’s expression hardened. “ ’Tis a wife’s duty to obey her husband and accept whatever pleases him. I will take whomever I wish to my bed. ’Tis the way of things.”
    “You will take no mistresses once we are wed,” Bretta proclaimed. She wrinkled her nose at Fiona, her distaste clearly evident. “Your slave stinks, Thorne. Her stench offends me. How can you stand her near you? She shouldn’t be allowed in the house with civilized people. I understand she’s a witch. Give her to me, I will make sure she casts no more spells.”
    “Fiona is mine, Bretta, do not forget it.”
    Bretta’s lovely face turned almost ugly. “We shall see!” Then she turned and flounced off.
    “You shouldn’t have goaded her, son,” Olaf contended. “Bretta brings a rich dowry. Her brother Rolo has accompanied her to our home. He intends to make sure the wedding goes off as planned. It seems Bretta has her heart set on this match and Rolo has indulged her shamelessly since the death of their parents.”
    “Fear not. The wedding will take place as planned, Father. I have just returned home after a lengthy voyage and wish to enjoy a long rest first.”
    “Is that all you wish to enjoy?” Thorolf asked, sending Fiona a disparaging glance. “Or have you already enjoyed your thrall?”
    Fiona shifted nervously. She didn’t like not knowing what was being said about her. “What’s happening?”she asked Thorne. “Who was that woman?”
    “That was Bretta, my betrothed. She took exception to your being here.”
    “Send me home,” Fiona suggested hopefully. “I do not wish to anger your betrothed.”
    “Aye, send her home,” Olaf agreed, speaking in Gaelic. “Or better yet, kill her.”
    “You speak my language,” Fiona said, stunned.
    “Aye. Like my son, I am a trader. I speak many languages. So do Thorolf and some of our kin, including Bretta and her brother Rolo. But I advise you to learn our native tongue if you wish to survive in our land.”
    “What I wish is to return home,” Fiona said with bravado.
    “You will speak only when spoken to!” Olaf roared. “You may have my son under your spell, but I am not so gullible. I rarely order whippings, for my slaves know their places, but I may be forced to make an exception with you.”
    “Father, Fiona is mine,” Thorne warned him. “If punishment is warranted, it will be by my hand. There is something else I would tell you before I bathe and eat. Brann, Fiona’s mentor, will arrive soon. ’Tis said he’s a wizard. Both he and Fiona are healers.”
    Olaf looked aghast. “I cannot believe you’ve brought a wizard into my home. You are truly bewitched. Nothing good will come of this.”
    Thorne was inclined to agree. He must have been mad to bring Brann and Fiona to his homeland.Alas, it was done and he must live with the consequences.
    “I take full responsibility for my thralls, Father. I intend to take them to my new home when I marry.”
    From the corner of his eye Thorne saw Bretta’s brother, Rolo, approaching. Bretta must have gone directly to Rolo to complain, Thorne thought with disgust.
    “Welcome home, Thorne,” Rolo said in greeting. “Bretta told me about your new thrall.” He slid his gaze over Fiona, apparently liking what he saw. “She is lovely. Unfortunately, my sister is not pleased with your new thrall. I thought I’d come and see for myself what has riled Bretta. Now that I have seen the woman, I’ve come upon a solution that