Idunn's Apples

And what about her duties as a wife? Snorri was a young man, and might be quite amorous. She smirked as she thought of his thickly-muscled arms wrapped around her. Hopefully, he would not be too strong for her, or perhaps she could persuade him to be gentle?

A sound in the hallway roused her from her thoughts. Morag listened and recognized the sound of someone approaching her door. The clink of metal suggested the visitor was a man, an armed or armoured man at that. Could it be Snorri come to find her and continue their conversation in a more private setting? She thought quickly. Should she treat him with cold civility, or warm and welcome femininity?

There was a rap on her door. Hesitant fingers lifted the latch, and Morag eased the door open a crack.

"Snorri?" she asked.

Not Snorri! Her eyes opened wide in surprise at the sight of a Viking warrior standing uncertainly before her. He seemed to regain his composure and smiled in a way that made her wary.

"Lady Morag? I thought we should have a brief talk."

"Yes?" She gripped the door firmly in her hand. "Speak."

He peered into her room and raised his eyebrows. "Ah. I understand that you may not be aware of the arrangement I have with Lord Olaf's son."

"Arrangement?" she asked with narrowing eyes.

He put his hand against the door. "Snorri is not one to favour the women, preferring battle and feats of strength. Instead, I often act for him. He doesn't mind."

"I don't understand," she lied.

He suddenly pushed the door open wider. "Come! Let us not play with words." He brushed past her and strolled about her room. "Not quite what I'm used to-"

"Get out of my bedchamber!"

"Now, Lady Morag"-he pushed down upon her bed, testing its springiness-"surely you don't intend to spend the rest of your life in a cold and empty bed? Am I so ugly? Most women find me quite pleasing...especially as they get to know me better."

"Get out! I will summon Snorri if-"

"No, you won't." His shoulders slumped. He slowly walked to the door, shaking his head in dismay. Then, as he reached the portal, his arm shot out and he grabbed Morag's arm. "I guess I'll have to take what I want, and then you'll see what I mean."

Morag was pulled toward him until they were chest to chest. She swung her leg back and then brought her knee up between his legs, causing him to jump into the air then crumple onto the stone floor. She hurried to the window.

"Get out of my room!" she demanded.

The warrior slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and glared at her.

"I am prepared to defend myself!" she declared. Morag glanced out the window, searching for someone she could call to, but no-one was visible in the evening dark.

He slowly went into a crouch, then stretched himself up until he was standing by the open door. He winced at a momentary pain. Then he drew his dagger.

"I see that you prefer a little blood to be spilled before we reach an agreement, Lady Morag. That's fine with me." He walked gingerly toward her.

"If you touch me-" She stared at the open door and quickly realized she would never reach it. "If you harm me, Olaf and Snorri will be greatly angered." The man froze. Morag raised an eyebrow. "You may have an arrangement with Snorri, but you have no such arrangement with me. If you ever come to my chamber again, I will tell Olaf that you drew your knife on me."

The man blanched.

"What will Lord Olaf do to you? Now, leave the knife on the floor and get out right now!"

To her great surprise, the dagger clattered upon the floor and the man shuffled out of her room. Morag slammed the door shut behind him, then latched it.

She was safe, safer than she had thought she'd be! Olaf's protection would prevent the Vikings from harming her! Morag wondered how she could use that to protect her people, if need be.

Chapter 8: A Challenge at Breakfast

The rest of the night, to Morag's surprise, passed uneventfully. She found very little sleep and there was no comfort in the few times she did drift off. However, the keep seemed very quiet throughout much of the night. As she went down the stairs and passed through the halls on her way to breakfast, she thought on the fact that during last night's meal many of the keep's serving women seemed to have found companions. To her eyes, they had seemed quite willing, almost eager.

Olaf, his son and daughter, and a number of warriors were already in the great hall when Morag arrived. Others were in the chamber but sleeping with their heads upon the tables or flat on their backs and snoring on the floor. She took her place between the overlord and Snorri, was served, and then ate her breakfast quietly. She was surprised that Snorri did not wish to continue his previous evening's conversation, or even offer up some words of affection toward her.

"You slept well?" asked Olaf suddenly.

"Yes," she lied.

"Good." He sat in silence for a few seconds. "It would be a good thing for you to befriend Ingrid and Snorri, Lady Morag."

"I believe your son has already begun to befriend me, Lord Olaf. I doubt your daughter will ever think anything but ill of me."

Olaf laughed. "She's a good girl. She'll come around. Just...do not anger her."

Morag opened her mouth to defend her reputation against Ingrid's accusations when a warrior walked into the hall with a trembling youth beside him. Morag put her hands over her mouth in shock. The beardless youth was Winnifred's younger brother.

"Lord Olaf!" announced the warrior, drawing the attention of everyone and waking a few sleeping upon the floor. "This boy means to have words with you!"

Olaf narrowed his eyes and stared at the boy. Morag noted that young William had a sword at his side and carried a shield. Her heart stopped as she realized what Winnifred's brother intended.

"Well, boy, come forward and say what you have to say!" demanded Olaf.

"He's just a boy," announced Morag, in a voice louder than she had intended. "Send him away, Lord Olaf. He is of no importance to you."

The overlord appraised her. "You know him, or of his purpose."

"Yes." She grabbed the overlord's arm. "Please let him go now! Do not hurt him. He's just a boy!"

"I have come..." squeaked William, drawing his sword. He cleared his throat and swallowed nervously. "I have come to seek vengeance against the man who sullied my sister Winnifred!"

"Your maid, the slave girl?" asked Olaf.

"She is freeborn," reminded Morag, trying to speak before William could anger the Vikings. "She is not a slave!"

"Ah, I recall," said Olaf thoughtfully. "A slave woman may be taken by any man and at any time, but a freeborn woman...!" He looked up in exasperation. "Odin take these fools!"

"Just kill the boy and be done with the matter, Father," suggested Ingrid, taking her place at the table. She shot a haughty look at Morag.

"I am here for vengeance!" declared William a second time. He stared at the assembly, not sure they had properly heard him the first time.

"Yes. Yes. Sit yourself down, lad, while I sort this out."

William stood uncertainly for a few seconds then took a seat after Morag pointed to an empty bench.

Olaf rubbed his temple. "Ingrid-and this goes for the rest of you as well-a slave woman is property and is of no value to anyone. Taking a freeborn woman can mean all manner of problems. Her father could use her rape as an excuse to build animosity against us. Over time he could build an army."

"We'll kill them all!" declared Snorri, causing William to go white as a ghost.

"No!" shouted Morag.

"Boy!" called out Olaf. William stood up straight. "The man who tried to lie with your sister will be brought before you. I would advise you not to start something unless you mean to finish it." Olaf searched the room with his eyes. "Thvaldi! Stand beside this youth!"

A seasoned warrior slowly rose to his feet, then strode over to stand beside William. He was easily twice as massive as the boy, and towered over him. William nervously sidled away until he was out of arm's reach.

Morag glared at Snorri. Olaf leaned over to her. "My son was speaking of an attacking army, not of William and his family," he whispered to her. Morag bit her lip and sent a grateful glance towards the overlord.

Olaf looked up and down the tables, staring down anyone who made a noise. "Thvaldi! Did you try and take this lad's sister against her will?" he asked in an angry tone.

"What?" the man sputtered. He briefly glared at William, causing the boy to step away again. "No! I didn't touch her!"

"Winnifred! Her name is Winnifred!" shouted Morag, slamming her fist upon the hard table. Bowls and plates jumped, and a few still-sleeping Vikings woke up suddenly. "She is my maid and you threw her down to the ground and stripped her in the courtyard!"

"The slave girl?" asked Thvaldi, confused.

"She is no slave!" shouted Morag, pounding her fist on the table as she spoke each word.

"I guess I may have..." The warrior glanced at William, then looked toward the entrance of the great hall. Realizing the boy had come alone to seek vengeance, the warrior grew bold. "Yeah, I did. And I was about to enjoy her company when..." He looked about in confusion and rubbed his head. "I'm ready to face the consequences." He folded his heavily muscled arms over his chest.

"What is going to happen?" Morag asked of Olaf.

He ignored her question. "William! Did you come here, into a fortified keep filled with Viking warriors, seeking vengeance on behalf of your sister? Answer truthfully, boy."

William's eyes darted to Morag and she gave him a quick nod. "Yes, I did."

"The lad's a brave one, Thvaldi. He'll make a fine warrior one day."

The Viking grudgingly nodded his head in agreement.

"You don't own any lands, do you, Thvaldi?"

"What? No, Lord Olaf. But, I'm no thrall."

Olaf smiled as he considered turning this unlucky situation into a boon. "What did you think of the girl, Thvaldi? Would you like to own her?"

"She's no slave!" shouted William and Morag, simultaneously.

The Viking warrior smiled grimly. "Yes, Lord Olaf. I would like to own her. I would very much like to have her as mine."

"Good," said Olaf. "William, you are the man of your family now, are you not?"

"Yes..."

"Would you consent to Winnifred becoming the wife of Thvaldi?"

The room went silent, then whispers were everywhere. William flushed, then opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"Consider this, lad. Thvaldi would be owner of your family's lands, but he would be there to protect you and your family. You sister would now have a husband. Any children that came of the union-your nieces and nephews-would eventually inherit. Thvaldi would teach you how to fight, and you could do worse for a brother-in-law."

William's eyes went to Morag, and Olaf recognized that for what it was. The daughter of the late Lord MacLint nodded to Thvaldi. The teenage boy turned to the Viking warrior who towered over him. "You wish to take my sister as your wife?"

Thvaldi's arms dropped to his sides. "Yeah. It's a big farm, is it?"

"Second biggest in the holding," interjected Morag. "Why do you think she was my handmaid?"

Olaf stood. "William and Thvaldi? Why don't the two of you sit over there and come to an agreement?" They both nodded. Olaf leaned over to Morag and whispered, "Before that boy leaves this keep you should caution him to dispose of every drop of mead and beer in his home. Thvaldi is only rational when he does not drink. I know him, and sober, he will treat this Winnifred well."

Thvaldi and William sat a little distance from everyone else and talked quietly. Olaf nodded his head in satisfaction and returned to his breakfast. Ingrid fumed in her seat, while Morag ate slowly and thought about what had just happened.

Winnifred would be upset, for a while at least, but she was not the first woman who had been married off to a man that had treated her roughly at their first encounter. Morag had hoped for better, for a better future for her and everyone upon her father's lands. She knew the time had come to accept that they were now living under Olaf's rule and arrange matters as best she could.

She glanced at Snorri and considered again what kind of husband he might prove to be. He did not notice her attentive stare.

Chapter 9: Visitors in Her Bedchamber

Following breakfast, Morag took Olaf on a detailed tour of the keep. She showed him every commonly-used passage and almost every means of access. He was introduced to every servant and slave. She even found herself showing him the armoury and the treasury. Olaf seemed impressed with the fortress, the level of care in its maintenance, and by the loyalty shown toward Morag by all who worked within the walls. Yet, it was clear to both that he sensed something was being concealed from him.

He thanked her most courteously and then left her to have her mid-day meal alone in the courtyard. Vikings and servants alike shied away from her while she ate, and she was able to spend the time searching her soul and considering what was right and what was wrong. For while the Vikings were gruff and uncivilized-and some were just cruel-they were not quite what she had expected. Truly, her own people showed similar characteristics from time to time.

Following lunch, Olaf reappeared and they resumed their tour, this time walking around the outside of the keep and examining the fortifications. The Viking chieftain made an effort to direct the path of the tour so that nothing further would remain hidden from him, but he refrained from being too insistent about a more detailed examination of areas that Morag was disinclined to spend time on. The two finished the inspection as supper was beginning, and once again Morag sat between Olaf and Snorri, receiving hostile glares from Ingrid the entire time. The men of Ingrid's family were courteous and treated her respectfully but did not try very hard to engage Morag in their discussions.

After the meal her time was her own, and Morag returned to her room after arranging for servants to prepare a bath for her. Now resolved to pursue Snorri, Morag desired to look her best. The basin was brought up to her chamber and a number of water bearers dumped heated well water into it before leaving her alone. Morag stripped, then slipped into the bath.

The water helped relieve the emotional stress of the last several weeks. As the sky outside her window changed from blue to cobalt blue, to indigo and then to black, Morag closed her eyes and imagined Snorri entering her bedchamber and seducing her as she lay naked in her bath. She smiled. Yes, she decided, things could be far worse.

The door to her bedchamber clicked open and then clicked shut, but the young woman was half-asleep in her fantasy and did not recognize the sounds for reality.

"You may have fooled them, witch, but you'll never fool me!" snarled Ingrid behind her.

Morag's eyes suddenly opened and she twisted about until she saw the intruder. "What do you want?"

Ingrid grabbed her head and pushed her down into the bath water. Morag struggled to free herself but could not. The hand lifted from her head and she burst half out of the bath, coughing and wheezing.

"Do you really have to ask what I want?" sneered the Viking woman.

"I haven't bewitched anyone!" sputtered Morag.

Ingrid strolled about the room, picking up trinkets, peering at them and then dropping them on the floor. "No familiar that I can see...unless it's invisible to mortal eyes! Is that it, witch?"

"I'm no witch!"

"Then why has my father taken such an interest in you?" Ingrid walked over to the tub and grabbed a handful of Morag's long blonde hair. "Is it this? Does it remind him of my mother? Have you always had hair the colour of straw, witch?" Ingrid pulled Morag up by her hair until she was standing in the tub. The Viking woman's eyes drifted down along Morag's body. "No, it would seem that your hair has always been this colour."

Morag fell back into the water as Ingrid suddenly released her. "I don't know why your father's acting differently. I didn't even know he was acting differently!"

"And what of my brother? He's never really shown much interest in women before you. Why does he talk to you? And why do my father and Snorri discuss the possibility of his marrying you?"

"Our union would strengthen Lord Olaf's hold on this land. Any children would be the product of both claims."

Ingrid paused to consider this. "Fair enough," she conceded. She looked down upon Morag's bed. "How many men have stained this bed? What magical creatures have you seduced to gain unnatural powers, witch?"

"I am not a witch! And no man has shared my bed-"

"No man? Oh, you poor girl! I shall have to send up some of our roughest warriors to get you some practice before your wedding night! Or, after your witchcraft has been found out, perhaps my father will order you taken by his soldiers in the pigsty!"

"I am not a witch! Get out of my room! Your father said I was not to be harmed!"

Ingrid scowled at Morag. "So he did. However, you must never forget that I am the real lady of this castle. I rule here! Everything you have really belongs to me. I can come and go from your room whenever I wish. One day they will break your spell..." Ingrid shook her fist at Morag, then stormed out of her bedchamber.

Shivering in fright and from the play of the cold night breeze upon her damp skin, she slumped into the now-cold waters of her bath. Morag hated that woman. Curse her! Ingrid had left the door open when she departed!

She rose from her bath and walked toward the door, but before she could close it Snorri walked into her bedchamber.

"I thought now might be a good time to talk, Lady Morag," he said without even a glance at her.

She threw her arms across her breasts and groin and retreated behind the opened door. "I was in the bath!"

"Yes, yes. You don't have anything I haven't seen before." Morag continued to hide herself. "If I was about to rape you, why would I not simply walk over to you and pull you out from your hiding place?"

"I do not know."

"Put something on if you wish. I care little for your form, Lady Morag. I've never had much interest in the pleasures of flesh, female or otherwise. Battle is what I seek! That is part of the reason I thought a union between us could work so well."

"I..." His words sounded sincere to her ears. She stepped out from behind the door, yet he did nothing more than glance at her. Morag walked over to her nightgown and began to pull it over her head. The fabric stuck to her wet skin and the moisture made much of it sheer. "Are you not interested in women at all, then?"

"Not at all. I've had some, but I really don't see why the others get so excited about a pair of breasts and a small hole between the legs. It doesn't come close to the exhilaration one feels as arrows fly and axes hew arms from chests!" He shook his head in fond memory. "I suppose you are just as disinterested in coupling with a Viking, even the son of a lord."

"I had thought your offer included..." She gazed at his muscled arms and broad chest wistfully. Even beneath furs and leather Snorri had a physique that was best described as heroic. "So, were I your wife you would not lay with me?"

"I suppose I'd have to." Snorri sat on the windowsill, pulled out a dagger, and began picking at some mortar. "Father would be expecting grandchildren. We could always resort to a servant or slave to get you with child should our coupling prove too bothersome."

She could not believe the situation she was in. This brawny Viking warrior was a few steps across the room from her, she had on clothing that did nothing to hide her charms, and yet he showed no interest at all in bedding her. She wondered if perhaps she were not so beautiful as she'd always been told. Or perhaps Vikings had different standards of beauty? She jumped when a voice shouted out: "Snorri!"