Page 123 of The Outlaw Viking

“No, of course not—I mean, I never thought of that. Now, Selik, don’t go getting stubborn on me. What I was thinking is that maybe if I offered the king some phenomenal medical remedy, he might be willing to release you.”

“It would have to be mighty phenomenal,” Eirik commented dryly.

“And what remedy, pray tell, did you plan to offer?” Selik asked cynically.

“I don’t know,” Rain said on a groan. “I haven’t thought that far, but there are many, many medical wonders that I could pick from.” She smiled then. “I remember my mother telling me that King Athelstan was a celibate, that he deliberately abstained from—you know, so that he wouldn’t have children. He wants the throne to pass to the true blood heirs, his young nephews.”

“And?” Selik and Eirik both asked dubiously.

“I could give the king a vasectomy.”

Selik choked and burst out laughing, obviously remembering the time Rain had explained the procedure to him and Ubbi. “Lord, I would love to be a fly on the wall if you performed such an operation on him. Sticking a needle in that bastard’s cock would give me a lifetime of pleasure.”

“Needle? Cock? Are you two going to share the jest?” Eirik finally asked with exasperation.

Rain explained, and Eirik grimaced painfully. “We are all laughing, but he just might be interested. Being celibate has been sore hard on him.” He grinned at his pun.

Selik gave Eirik a look of disgust and turned back to Rain. “I am serious, Rain. I want you to leave Winchester.”

Fortunately, she had no chance to respond because a guard knocked on the door and told her and Eirik they had to leave.

Selik stood painfully and took her face between both his palms. With the tenderest care, he placed his lips gently against hers and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Selik. More than I ever dreamed possible.”

Then Selik pushed her toward the door, adding, “Next time you are talking to that God of yours, tell Him to stay out of my bloody head.”

Rain swiveled around. “God has been talking to you?”

“Like a blathering lackwit. Day and night. He offers more advice than a shrewish woman.”

Thank You, God, Rain whispered silently. Somehow, she knew that God would not be speaking in Selik’s head without a reason.

There was hope, after all.

Chapter Nineteen

Rain didn’t speak to King Athelstan the next day. Nor the next. Each time her appointed interview came due, he suddenly had other, more pressing engagements—a portrait sitting, an audience with a representative of the Prankish king, a chess match.

Rain should have been pleased that Eirik had gained her release, but each wasted minute that fled by left Rain in nerve-racking despair about Selik’s condition and whether he was being tortured further. The Winchester castellan refused permission for her or Eirik to see Selik again. Rumors flew of a public flogging and execution sometime in the near future.

She was sitting in the ladies’ solar on the third afternoon, fidgeting nervously, fighting to control her temper among the insipid chitchat of the court ladies who gossiped over their needlework. Needlework! Hah! The only needlework that interested Rain right now was sewing a few mouths shut.

The Lady Elgiva, a stunning, raven-haired widow from Mercia, approached her, a fine lavender samite robe swirling about her exquisite figure as she walked. She was one of the few females who bothered to treat Rain with any consideration, probably because her place in the Saxon court was just as shaky as hers. Some said Elgiva was hopelessly in love with the celibate king.

Elgiva asked politely, “May I join you?”

Rain nodded toward the windowseat at her side.

“You have not had your audience with the king yet?” she inquired.

“No,” Rain said with a sigh. “If I could only talk with King Athelstan, I think I might be able to convince him to release Selik.” Are you listening to me, God? “I’ve heard he’s a fair man.”

Elgiva raised a perfect eyebrow. “Fair is one thing, but the king is no fool. He would not trust Selik. The Outlaw is just as likely to turn and stab him in the back—or kill a hundred more Saxon soldiers.”

Rain felt her face Hush with anger. “Selik’s word is gold. If he made an oath, even to a Saxon king, he would keep it.”

Elgiva tapped a graceful forefinger against her cheek thoughtfully. Rain had never seen such a beautiful, creamy complexion in her entire life, and she wondered how the king could resist this woman’s beauty.