"I am not going to lay with him," Katrin lied. "By being close to him, I can learn more about the jarl and his family and the rest of the clan."
Gunilla shook her head, not satisfied with the answer. "It is too dangerous. If you lose your gift, all we've worked for will be destroyed."
You mean all your recent lies and thefts.Katrin didn't say the words aloud. "In the last three villages, we were forced to leave sooner than usual. Don't you think that might mean something?"
Gunilla shrugged, tossing her long silver hair behind her shoulders. "It simply worked out that way."
Katrin shook her head. She'd noticed the troublesome change to their usual success. Only now did she have a better understanding of what it meant. "We drew much notice at The Thing last summer. I suspect word is being spread. We must use great caution this time."
The witch stepped close to Katrin. "Look into my eyes. What do you see?"
Without the usual candles and bowls of sacrificial blood, the prayers to the gods and other offerings, Katrin's unease grew. She had less control over the visions without the proper tools to guide her. Still, she obeyed, not wanting Gunilla to suspect anything other than what she'd said. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then forced her gaze to lock onto the other woman. Almost instantly, a vision arose. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the scream from erupting. She could not share this vision. Not now, maybe not ever. Not until she knew if there was a chance it would be realized, though she admitted almost all of her premonitions had come to pass. In the last two years, less than a handful had been proven false, or had differed from the original interpretation. She forced her breathing to remain steady until the gruesome images faded.
Swallowing past the jagged lump in her throat, she said, "I see that you will be feted during our stay."
"Can you see how long we will be here?" Gunilla's eyes gleamed with malicious delight.
Katrin shook her head. "I cannot. But with the cold weather soon moving in, it is possible we may be here through the winter."
Gunilla gave a devilish smile. "Then we will be quite successful in this village."
"Yes, but only ifIam successful in ensuring no one here suspects us of ill intentions. The only way to do that…"
Gunilla appeared to contemplate Katrin's words, both unspoken and otherwise. Finally, she nodded. "You may be right. It's clear he is quite attracted to you. You can bewitch him and he will convince the jarl we mean only to bring them luck and prosperity."
Katrin didn't respond. Instead she turned toward the dock, eager to get the rest of her belongings from the boat before she faced Hradi once more.
***
Folding his arms, Hradi watched the girl walk away, his gaze drawn to the soft sway of her hips, visible even under the heavy cloak she wore. His fingers itched, anxious to shove it away and undo her brooches, letting hersmokkrfall from her body. In the year since his former slave, Dota, had been killed, he had lain with women a handful of times, oddly finding his normal appetites muted. Not even the village thralls, normally subjected to whatever whims may take him, had tempted. But this girl, part of what might be a group of thieves, intrigued him, roused desires, urgent and powerful, that he'd not felt in some time. He would give her the one night alone in his bed, but no more. Of course, by day's end tomorrow, he planned to have her begging him to join her.
"She has desire for you, brother. Use it." Kori's reminder drew a nod.
"Maybe I will keep her after that. She will make a fine slave." The very idea gave him a ferocious thrill.
Kori grinned. "Just make sure you don't give this one to Muli."
Hradi scowled at the thought of the wiry man who constantly made trouble for Kori and everyone else in the village. If it weren't for Thorfinn's life-debt owed to Muli's father, the man would have been cast out long ago, despite being a skilled and valuable warrior. Hradi scanned the hall, noting the traitorous cur sat nearthe back, away from most of the prying eyes, content to paw at the slave girl unlucky enough to serve him. She didn't resist, knowing Muli would likely beat her, even to death, like he had done to Dota. Hradi frowned, as he did every time his former slave crept into his memories. He had no feelings for her. She had shown herself to be a treacherous whore, but a twinge of guilt always poked him whenever he recalled her mutilated body, her face unrecognizable.
Bah! He was as glum as one of the bards' tales of lost battles. Why should he care anymore? Dota had been no more than a slave. Possibly, he was about to gain a new one. One who possessed a much more desirable demeanor, as well as being far more beautiful.
At the thought of Katrin in his bed, the weight of regret that had hovered over him these past months lifted. Imagining kissing her, touching her, making her writhe beneath him in passion soon had his cock rising, desperate for attention. He tried to think of anything to ease the sudden ache but knew only one thing would appease him. He couldn't have that, at least, not yet. How would he survive the coming night and day?
His gaze repeatedly returned to the door, waiting for Katrin's return. It seemed as if she'd been gone for hours, instead of only a few minutes. An elbow in his side drew his attention to his grinning brother.
"I think you are smitten," Kori said.
Hradi chuckled, his tense anticipation ebbing. A little. "Maybe. It's been a long time since…"
Kori rolled his eyes. "I noticed."
"Noticed what?"
"Your sour mood these past months."
Hradi narrowed his eyes. "Worry no more, brother. I bear no guilt over that traitorous slave's death."
"I didn't think you carried that with you. That scheming, dangerous shrew got exactly what she deserved. In this, I take Muli's side."
