The long ship beached gently on the sands of a northern, British shore and Leif quietly motioned to his crew that it was once more time to do make them worthy of the name Viking. The spring sun and morning breeze welcomed them and he pointed silently at the smoke rising from the nearby Saxon village. They did not expect much resistance - the simple spears of these poor farmers would be no match for Viking swords, axes and berserkers. They ran silently along the sands, hoping to surprise the villagers before most where awake. Leif was flanked by two men in bearskin; they had partaken of the mushroom this night and were wild-eyed and ready to fight to the death, and were sure to put the fear of God into these peasants. Not that Leif believed in any Christian God, but he was careful to respect Odin, who was sure to welcome them to Valhalla and eternal feasting and whoring should their luck and skill run out one day. In the meantime, Leif was glad to have Olav and Baard at his side. With shields and an axe or a sword, plus strong leather clothing and chain mail, and horned helmets, they felt invincible. Behind them was a strong and experienced group who had sailed across the Northern Sea for two years, picking the spoils of war and returning to the Northern Way before winter. Leif trusted each with his life, as a harsh existence on land and at sea had taught them all the value of friendship and trust.
Their ship had been spotted! He heard the anguished cries of women and children as they hurried to escape, and heard the guttural yells of weary men who hastily made ready to protect the little they had.
The first spears were easily parried and the Saxons wisely decided to save their weapons for hand-to-hand combat. He almost admired their foolish bravery as their clumsy spears where cut in two by sword and axe and their blood spilled on the golden sand. He engaged the strongest, as befitted a leader, and received for his pains a spear wound to the shoulder. But his protective clothing prevented any real damage and the surprised Saxon, caught off balance, was cut and overturned by Leif's sword. The Saxon lay bleeding and pleading on the sands and Leif ended his misery with a deep and violent stab to the stomach. Leif withdrew the bloody sword and felt his blood pumping in frenzy. The others were inside the gates now and he followed. He was pleased the women and children had escaped - to the church no doubt. They would sack that prize later. But now he and his men deserved some breakfast...
"Aaargh!"
He felt pain as a sharp knife penetrated his exposed and muscular upper arm. Instinctively he swiped at his attacker with his shield, and prepared to deliver the death blow. To his surprise he found himself looking down at a young woman, clad in little more than rags. He didn't know what to take in first...the pain in his arm, or the vision of her pale and smooth thighs barely covered by cloth, her full bosom heaving beneath tatters, or her fiery red hair, blazing eyes and pouting, angry lips.
Olav and Baard were at his side in an instant and raised their weapons to smite his assailant.
"Nay!" he heard himself say. "She ... is mine to punish. Besides...she may prove useful."
In truth he had been smitten not by her knife but by her beauty, and was reminded of how many days now since he had left his woman on a far shore and vowed to return. Weeks on a heaving ship with the stink of fish and men. By Thor how he longed to be penetrating with more than his sword!
"Let her attend to my wound. Make ready a pole to which we can tie her while we feast. Your stomachs and eyes deserve a reward! Olav! Bind her feet that she may not escape. Her hands are to be free while she treats my wound. Hold your sword to her throat and make her understand!"
Leif was pleased to be close to her face. He studied her and she averted her eyes, she trembled but was clearly adept at caring for wounded men. He dearly longed to taste those lips...imagined how they would look wrapped around his cock...imagined what he would do to with the mighty erection that was forming under his tunic. He enjoyed the sight of youthful breasts jiggling behind her ragged clothes. As she finished her work he grabbed an orb and she pulled away but he gained the satisfaction of eye contact. Two fiery souls stared at each other defiantly. He smiled and said, "Takk!"
Before she could pull away from him completely he stood up and towered over her, holding her slender arms behind her. Baard removed the bindings around her ankles so she could walk. Leif stood behind her and steered her towards the centre of the party, there was a fire surrounded by his men and a horizontal branch in place as he had ordered. He gently nudged the small of her back with the erection she had unwittingly caused. She struggled as he held her arms out parallel with the pole and Leif commanded Olav to bind her upper arms and wrists to it.
"Does not your leader deserve some mead, my warriors?" he asked rhetorically.
He drank deeply of the ale and proffered some to the girl. She turned her face away so he emptied some of the remains over her breasts. The liquid dripped over the remnants of her clothes and reached her thighs and started to drip onto the sand.
