Trust Ch. 01

He often chose to transfer to his other ships.

The girl found him confusing. One minute he treated her as equal; the next minute he treated her as slave. At times it angered her greatly. Once she found out she was allowed to express herself without punishment, she pushed in order to know her limit. Sometimes he was nice and sometimes obviously irritated. She was equally irritated as well.

Still, she did not like it when he left her alone and his return was not known. She felt helpless. He had chosen her and brought her here, but for what use.

He would easily disrobe without any indication of noticing her. She was sure that this meant something. Why else would he do it? But, he had not touched her or given her any indication as to whether he would. She tried to interest him, hoping that he would keep her. There were times when he watched her, she was certain of it. He would tease her, yet not touch her or crawl into her bed. If she had no use, why would he keep her?

Maybe he was in fear of her, like the other men. She doubted that. Or, her skin color did not appeal to him. She did not want to anger him by assuming either way. There was something about him that made her wish he would touch her. Although a slave, her needs were that of all women. She did not understand what it all meant.

She felt it better to keep her mouth closed and be watchful.

She found herself admiring the broadness of his shoulders, the way it flowed into a narrow waist. Everything about his body screamed strength, no part of him was without muscle. What she found most stirring was where the outer part of his legs met his hip. The defining of such an area escaped her. All she knew was how it formed an inverted U at the top of his thigh. It moved in to a well formed V at his front, below the divided muscles of his torso, and led the eye to a nest of blond hair. There hung an impressive appendage, having girth as well as length. She thought him intimidating, some of his parts more so than others. Unfortunately, she was not innocent when it came to the form of men. Not being touched by her last owners was pure luck. With the size of his hands and that appendage, she bet that he had pleased a great number of women. Visioning that made her tingle in her most intimate place.

This frustrated her further. Anger would envelope her, she hated that his body provoked such feelings.

Despite what type of mood she was in, she did keep the area clean. The girl kept his clothes clean too. He liked that about her. He noted that she seemed to mind his absences and behaved much better upon his return—for a brief period. As time passed, there were moments when she would forget herself and almost be kind. The look in her dark eyes would be strangely welcoming. He sometimes found her to be surprisingly coy and smiling at odd opportunities. During these periods, the most unexpected urge to reach out and touch the surface of her skin overtook him. He was sure that it was for the purpose of forming some type of connection, indemnifying his decision concerning her. These moments were short lived as well.

He was a great swordsman, known to possess the ability of using either his left or right hand to wield his sword. He also excelled in the use of the knife. He carried many, most in hidden places. But from her he hid nothing. Without concern for her preferences, he would strip himself of his confines. Without any shame he walked naked before her. At first she was uncomfortable. He found her discomfort amusing since the traditions of her people left them scantily dressed. She began, however, to regard him when she thought him distracted—especially when he bathed. Of course he equally regarded her, but with no discomfort or pretense of shame.

One night, when she thought him sleep, she took one of his many knives. He thought the probability of her getting the best of him was impossible. He definitely was not afraid that she would take his life. He considered overpowering her and lifting up the skirt of her shift, and then he could simply claim what was already his. But, his hands under her clothing were dangerous. He was not sure if he could control them. He could simply ask for it. However, the moment he had chosen proved itself to be quite uncomfortable. There was something in her eyes that gave him pause. He thought of how he would react in her position. He would have also acquired the means to defend himself. He decided to let her keep it, to somewhat trust her.

He had awakened a few times to find her sitting upright, watching him. It caused him no discomfort only confusion. It was hard to tell whether she wanted the feel of him alongside her or if she was devising a plan to kill him. Of course the first option would meet no refusal. Regardless, he let the front of his furs slightly open. This made her immediately lie back down and turn her back to him. It was nothing but a game to him and made him laugh. It was the only time she appeared truly embarrassed.

As retribution for a particularly irritating period with her, he refused to supply her with sustenance—or so it appeared. Actually, he was leaving the ship, boarding another to handle some business. He simply did not want any man aboard to have access to her for any reason. He locked her in and restrained her movements so that she could only do what was necessary. He had little doubt that she would try to leave the room if she could.

He asked himself if he was protecting her or the poor soul that dared come near her.

Upon his return, he perceived a sign of relief in her eyes. He concluded that it was most likely caused by hunger. He had been gone a little more than three days. It could not be helped. He himself had gone without food for six at one time. Still, his actions gnawed at his conscience. He felt that standing firm was a necessity. She had to be taught respect. This new found freedom and yet restrictions obviously confused her. He understood how that could happen. But, lines had to be strongly drawn. She had to learn independence, but understand that he was in charge.

He went about his business within the room, pretending to not notice her. She remained restricted. She also remained defiant.

He had an idea and used the situation to fulfill it.

Eventually he did bring in food. But, he did not give it to her. He placed it just out of her reach. She protested, violently pulling at her restraints. He made it clear that if she chose to act like a rabid animal, he would treat her like one.

This angered her more.

"You say that you give me freedom and yet place restraints around my ankle. Your cage is only larger than the one I had before."

These words were her first spoken to him, dismissing her affinity for profanity. It was a shame that they were spit out with such anger and contempt.

"What you say may be true. My actions have, however, been well earned. There is no denying the truth in that."

He told her that she would receive no food until she performed requested tricks. Her countenance immediately shifted. She retreated and placed herself in the same corner she had upon arriving. She pulled her legs in close and wrapped her arms around them.

He thought this odd, but continued.

The first demand was simple and quite playful. He felt that it would soften the mood. Smiling, he requested that she return the same. He had never seen someone's smile appear so feral. It did, however, give him a hearty laugh. After her performance, he gave her a small piece of meat.

She looked at him in disbelief, but only after quickly taking his offering.

"I'm afraid that amount is all you have earned for your pleasant display," he teased.

He could see that she was fighting what he defined as one of her tantrums. Previously allowing her to demonstrate such, simply because he found them entertaining, was an error on his part. They had gone far past amusing. He felt that she sensed that now.

Pausing dramatically and eating something off her plate, he made his next request.

"Tell me your name."

She glared at him.

He raised a shoulder dismissively and began to gather the things he had brought.

"Starving you only supplies more for my men. At least they would show gratitude. It would also relieve me of an unpleasant apparition—one that grows more unbearable each day."

He started for the door.

She waited until his hand reached out to open it. "Iona," she whispered.

"What was that," he teased without turning to look at her, "did I hear something?"

"Iona," she said much louder.

Her voice was surprisingly delicate now.

He turned to look at her.

"Iona," she repeated, hope in her eyes.

"I wish to know your real name, the one given before you became a slave."

There was a pause.

"I cannot remember. As a child I was given the name of my owner's dog for his enjoyment. I was told never to speak my own language. When I did, I received blows from a leather strap with holes. I was told that if I did not learn quickly, I would be sold to one or many that would truly treat me like a dog. They would most assuredly make me learn. They would mate me like a bitch and be done with me like refuse. There was no one there that I could share the remembered things of my people, even in secret. After a time, I no longer recognized my own tongue."

At first her words seemed stilted, but as they flowed they became laced with long hidden emotion. Sharing them obviously brought back unwanted memories and tears creeped down her cheek.

Her words made him swell with guilt. He wondered if he should bring this game to an end. His curiosity won out.

"And how did you end up in the place where I found you?"

"My owner began to lay with me and reduced my burdens. His woman found out and was angered. My owner did not come to my rescue. His woman sold me to those people, giving them lies to increase my worth."

"What did she find to be your value?"

"Finely woven cloth in the color of wine that comes from the Southern lands."

"What do you know of the Southern lands?"

"Despite what you may think of me, I am not without ears." With those words the fire returned to her eyes.

He decided that he preferred that much better than tears.

While away he had thought of her and found raised bread and honey. He had brought back beef roasted over a fire for everyone instead of just the usual dried or cured meat. But for her alone, he brought back a sweet gravy for her beef, cabbage with leeks and hard wedged cheese. He had even brought her containers of preserved plums and raspberries. For drink, he brought her fresh goat's milk. This was a feast that suddenly did not seem to be enough. He wished that he could give her something that would let her know that her value was much more than any price previously asked. But, what could do that?

He removed her confines and watched as she devoured her meal. Once she noticed him watching, she slowed down enough to actually chew. He loved the way she licked the honey from the raised bread. He knew that it tasted so much better than the usual flat bread. But the way she enjoyed the honey was stirring. The way she let the tip of her tongue taste it first, the way she savored its sweetness and licked as if she could extend the experience, it made him feel as if he was tasting it as well. The need for touch returned. This time it was in a way that he could not deny. His groin tightened and his cock grew hard.

Thinking about how she might react to such, his mind cleared. Due to the life she had endured, there was great reason for her to distrust him. The men she had been subjected to were not men at all. They had never deserved her trust. It was something he hoped to eventually garner.

In the meantime, his absence left him with many things to do. He stood to leave.

"I am Gulbrandson Kieren," he threw over his shoulder before exiting. This meant that the infamous Gulbrand was his father, a fact that most likely meant nothing to a slave.

"I well know your name and origin," she defiantly returned, with a mouth filled with food. "Must I keep reminding you that I am neither dumb nor deaf?"

He laughed. Her original master must have been of high rank. Her vocabulary was quite developed.

**********************************

Kieren had his duties. Many Longships and smaller crafts were under his command or readily dedicated to his cause. There were things that were done, things that he organized and directed. There were many things that he participated in with great glory. Many were things that concerned men only and should not be witnessed by the softness of a woman. There were things he knew Iona had witnessed prior to what brought her to him. Kieren did not want her to associate him with such things, nor did he want her to see the baseness of what he sometimes was forced to display. He felt that she had seen and endured enough. Because of this, he was very strict as to her movements. Sometimes he had her removed for her own safety and there would be times when one had no access to the other.

These were stressful moments for Iona. She thought of her future without his guardianship. Although not touched in any offensive way, looks she received from his men scared her. They ranged from obvious dislike to that of a sexual nature. Their last time apart was particularly alarming. She vowed to convince him that there was some value to her presence—no matter what she must do.

When they were back together again, Iona attempted to keep Kieren entertained. She found him to have a playful nature when they were alone. He would occasionally bring her up from the lower area. Iona liked the way he fussed over her, making sure she dressed with the warm coverings he had acquired - things suitable for a woman of substance. She was then able to look out over the sea. This generally occurred when the right moment presented itself and his men were busy.

He loved the magnificence of the sea, the power it possessed. It beat against the ship with such fierceness, while simultaneously cresting with its distinctive sounds, only to crash into itself somewhere else. Kieren wanted her to see it the way he did, to crave it as he did. The sea reminded him of man and what it meant to be one. The sea was a thing with its own life, separate and unpredictable, strong, giving but quick to claim what it wanted. It was God-like and unmatchable in its glory, requesting nothing—not your fear, your praise nor willing sacrifices. It was without care or concern for anything other than itself. It required only that you stand on your own, face what moved in front of you without fear and guard what was yours.

The wind was another matter. Like sharp spears of ice, it stabbed at the face and threatened whatever was not protected. It boldly warred with the sea. It considered man to be a worthless opponent. Because of this he watched her closely to make sure she was comfortable and safe. At the same time, he could not control his growing regard for her.

Kieren could not deny her unique attractiveness. She was both exotic to him and yet familiar. He enjoyed looking upon her. He equally enjoyed watching her reaction to everything that she encountered. The animals of the sea fascinated her.

He grew fond of the way she looked at him, lately it was without anger. Sometimes Iona's facial expressions baffled him. Her eyes revealed things he could not understand. When the shadows of the moon highlighted her features, she was even more of a mystery to him. He speculated that it was because he had always viewed life through the eyes of a proud, free man. She remembered nothing but enslavement. This had its effect.

She was particular about neatness and bathed every day, which when available was his nature as well. He now enjoyed gathering the warm water for her himself, where generally he had it brought to him. Kieren would slip into the water after her. It somehow made him feel closer to her as he rubbed her abrasive, cleaning cloth across his skin. He had one of his men make an expensive trade for thick oil extracted from nuts, with flowers floating within it. Iona treated it as if precious. She would massage her smooth, brown skin with it and rub a little in her hair. Her reaction made him proud of his choice. To watch her apply it left him wanting. He loved the smell of it and how it filled the air that surrounded her. His desire to touch her had extended to something more carnal, causing his control to wear thin.

He could not deny that he admired the curve of Iona's hips, her small waist and the swell of her firm breasts. The circle around her nipples was darker than her skin, something that enticed him. When extended, each nipple reminded him of a small, dark berry. He wished to taste their sweetness with the tip of his tongue before devouring them. He thought her beautiful too—the loveliness of her face, almond shaped eyes with long dark lashes, sultry lips and button nose. Mostly, he loved the full roundness of her bottom. He enjoyed grabbing a fine ass, spreading out his hands and squeezing. For him it held the greatest attraction. He considered it to be one of her finest assets.

When Iona bathed, her body still wet, she would slip on a thin shift. It clung to her in places. He delighted in viewing her curves and shadows by candlelight. His cock would grow obviously hard. Of course he was no stranger to giving and receiving sexual pleasures. Being within touching distance and not being able to touch her was sometimes unbearable.

However, once again she began to underestimate his kindnesses.

When Iona grew more comfortable and adjusted to his presence, she displayed a wicked sense of humor and a quick tongue. He had to admit that generally she could take as much as she gave. For the most part, he enjoyed the challenge she presented. There were moments, however, when her temperament would rise. She forgot her place and drew him close to the edge. It was as if she desired to see a different side of him, she needed it. He either ended their exchange or responded in a way that left her speechless. It was generally the latter.

Once, she became so angry at his response that she threw something at him and it came so close to his face that he felt and heard its passing. Without thinking, and with speed she had never thought him capable of, he grabbed her by the shoulders. His fingers dug into her skin as he forced himself to gain control.

At first she was scared, but then grew bold.

"So now you prove yourself to be like every man, abuse me and then treat me like the dog you think I am?" she returned.

"You ungrateful bitch," he growled. "I have experienced dogs that show their teeth and bite less than you do. I would rather share my space with one of them."

"Then leave me to the waters of the sea and gather for yourself such hounds."

His strength allowed him to draw her up so that they were face to face. "You are so used to mistreatment that you foolishly place no value on being treated well," he told her, having somewhat calmed himself down.

"Is this well treatment to you?" Her words were cold. "Now I am enslaved to you. You determine what I eat and where I go. You detest me and then label me. I am not even good enough for you to use fully."

"What you do here you do at your own discretion. I needed nothing before you and I will need nothing after you are gone." His words were equally cold.

"You grip me in anger and with the same anger you pull me off my feet. Your desire to mark me is clear. I know, without yet experiencing but a portion of it, you are capable of great abuse when it comes to me. But, I can tell by what you wear on your back that receiving abuse is not new to you. You have the markings of someone once enslaved. Slaves that are given power become worse than those who have the power to give. They are more dangerous and cause more harm because now they simply can. Will you mark my back as well tonight, so that I never forget your well treatment? Will you mark me so that no man desires to touch me because you have no desire to? You seem to be the type that enjoys intimacy with dogs, or is it boys?"