Virgin Slave, Barbarian King. Louise Allen

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СКАЧАТЬ been mad to take her, he knew that. She was so far from what he needed—neither the wife he should acquire, nor the domesticated slave who would make life comfortable—that he wondered at himself for the impulse.

      But how could he delude himself that it was an impulse? He could have let her go at any time. Something about this dark-haired, dark-eyed, olive-skinned creature called to him. It was going to be hell to teach her their ways, with her patrician arrogance and her stubborn defiance. He knew perfectly well that she had brought the water only because she wanted to use it herself.

      ‘I would sooner smile at your wolf.’ She jerked her chin, but he refused to let her go and she was too proud to continue struggling. There was fear at the back of those brown eyes, fear that he would force her to do more than carry water, despite his pledge, and that angered him.

      These Romans had no concept of honour, no respect for a man’s word. Alaric, and all his people, had experienced it, year after weary year. They had fought for the emperor, learned his language, kept his enemies at bay, waiting for their reward while they were lied to and deceived. And now, what would they do? They had taken the greatest city on earth, they held the sister of the emperor, they could strip Rome of gold and slaves and treasures. But were they any closer to what they needed, their safe homeland?

      Loyalty to his king told him to trust Alaric’s judgement. Experience and his own imagination told him to doubt the outcome. And yet to doubt his king was not honourable.

      Frustrated, he released her. ‘That is your space, take some water.’ He jerked his chin towards a length of striped cloth that shielded one corner of the tent.

      She stepped away from him, and he watched as she wiped her hand across her chin where he had held her, as though to rub away his contaminating touch. ‘This is a large tent,’ she observed, as if nothing had passed between them, hefting one of the buckets and making her way over to the corner. She was stronger than she looked.

      ‘We copied the design of the legionary tents, but bigger than the standard eight-man model. We have spent years living in them, now they are as close to a home as we can make them.’ He watched her poking about in her space, amused by the feminine instinct to build a nest in the most unpromising circumstances. ‘I will give you rugs for a bed and Berig will fill some sacks with straw for a mattress.’

      ‘Luxury indeed,’ she said drily, letting the curtain fall between them.

      Wulfric whistled to Smoke and, when the wolf trotted in, nodded towards the corner. The animal padded behind the curtain and must have sat down. Wulfric could see its tail protruding underneath. Julia murmured something and the tail began to wag. Smoke liked her, it seemed.

      Berig, it was obvious, did not. ‘Where is she?’ he demanded, marching in.

      ‘Washing.’ Wulfric jerked his head towards the curtain. ‘Here, take some of this and make yourself decent. You stink of horse and smoke.’

      ‘So do you.’ Berig began to ladle hot water into a bowl.

      ‘I’m washing, aren’t I?’ Wulfric aimed a cuff at the lad’s head, watching him critically as he ducked smoothly away. He was growing up fast, too fast yet for his lanky frame to catch up with. He had a quick tongue, fierce loyalty and worked magic with horses. He was also beginning to flirt with the girls of his own age.

      Wulfric cast a thoughtful eye in the direction of Julia’s corner. There was splashing, but no other sound. Was he asking for trouble, introducing an attractive young woman into the tent with the youth? Probably not, not while they were squabbling like brother and sister, but it would bear watching. Berig deserved better than to fall into puppy love with a haughty Roman girl like this one.

      He fished another soap ball out of the earthenware jar and went to hold it round the edge of the curtain. ‘Here.’

      There was a pause, then wet fingers brushed against his hand as she took it. ‘Thank you.’

      As though struck by an adder’s bite his body went rigid with desire. Wulfric shook his head, trying to clear it. Why that fleeting touch should affect him so, he had no idea. One moment he was worrying, with the corner of his mind that wasn’t thinking of Council tomorrow, about Berig’s adolescent fancies, the next he found himself as aroused as though Julia had emerged naked and wrapped herself around him. The touch of those damp fingers fired his imagination with images of her wet and bare behind the flimsy curtain and he strode to the shadowed back recesses of the tent to give himself a chance to recover. This was not why he had taken her. He just wished he did know why.

      ‘There’s a towel here somewhere.’

      ‘No, they are all here,’ Berig called. ‘Una washed things for us, and they’re with the tunics.’

      ‘Una has been your skivvy up until now, I presume?’ The cool voice effectively dampened his fantasies. Wulfric went back to the hot water with a grimace.

      ‘Una’s my sister, so she looks after us when there isn’t anyone else,’ Berig snapped. ‘And she’s expecting a baby, so she shouldn’t be looking after two households now.’

      ‘Then you had better kidnap her a slave too, hadn’t you? Or give her some help yourself.’

      Damn it, the woman had a tongue on her like an adder, as well as its fangs. ‘An excellent idea, although once you find out the way of things, I am sure you can help her—she’ll appreciate a woman’s company,’ Wulfric said smoothly. ‘She will be busy when the baby’s born.’

      Silence. Then, ‘Exactly what do you expect me to do?’

      ‘Cook for the three of us. Keep this tent clean and tidy. Wash and mend our clothes. Fetch water, heat it for when we return.’

      ‘Nurse you when you are sick, I suppose?’

      ‘Of course. Or wounded.’

      He could almost read her thoughts. The sooner the better…

      ‘Are you both decent?’

      Wulfric cast a hasty glance downwards, but the frosty exchange had cooled that ridiculous flash of lust. He was still shaken by his momentary loss of control.

      Was it time to think seriously about a wife now? There were plenty who would advise him that he should do just that. A man in his position, a leader, needed strong sons about him. Hilderic was hinting about his daughter Sunilda. It was a good alliance, it would bring many spears to his side and she was a strong woman, in mind as well as body. A woman who understood what was needed and what must be done so that all the children had a homeland to grow up in.

      He realised that he must have been lost in thought when Berig replied, ‘We’ve got our trousers on, if that’s what you mean.’

      Wulfric smothered a snort of amusement. ‘Then put a shirt on as well,’ he ordered. ‘And go and do something about our evening meal.’

      ‘I skinned and plucked the game,’ Berig said, his voice muffled as he pulled the clean linen over his head. ‘Una’s taken them to add to a hot pot of vegetables. They’ll be enough for us and for her brood. Sichar’s going to be late, she said, something about horses.’

      Wulfric grunted. Berig’s brother-in-law had been sent by Alaric to take a count of all the available animals and their condition. They would be breaking camp soon, that was no secret—sitting СКАЧАТЬ