Chapter 10
Freydis
I followed him all the way down until we were away from the crowd. I turned around to see men engaged in a mock fight to honour the warriors.
Just as I was turning my head back to Ragnar, I didn't see him. I raised my brows in confusion, looking back when a hand grabbed me and pulled me into a corner. Before I could scream, the hand was on my mouth.
My eyes widened when I realized it was Ragnar, and I calmed down. He slowly removed his hand from my mouth and smirked.
"Why did you leave?"
He continued to smirk. No words.
"Do you not feel bad for the lives of the warriors we lost?" I asked.
"I do."
"Then why did you leave?"
"I do not feel well surrounded by folks here, Freyja," he said.
"What—"
"Come with me for a stroll," he said, sliding his hand into mine.
Heat crept to my cheeks, and I looked around to check if anyone was watching us. No one. Everyone was too invested in the burial ceremony.
Usually, the ceremony would last until dawn.
"You wanted to take me out in the middle of the night," I said. "Take me now."
"I thought you didn't want to go out with me," he said.
"But I want to be with you now. How about it?"
"First, you need to change into something," he said, looking at my clothes. "You don't want to be recognized."
"Change into what?" I asked.
"Come with me." He led me back to the House, and there he took me to his room.
The wooden door groaned a little as Ragnar opened it slowly. We entered his room, and I saw a small fire crackling in the hearth to keep the room warm and light. Animal pelts lined the floor, and there was a chest sitting at the corner.
Ragnar opened the chest and pulled out a bundle of folded cloth. Then he handed it to me.
"This should fit."
I unfolded the cloth and stared at it. It was a plain, rough brown tunic skirt with a few patches.
A small frown formed on my forehead as I turned to Ragnar. "How did you get these rags?"
"I took them from a thrall."
I blinked. "You bring thralls to your room?"
"Not for what you're thinking," he said, turning to the wall. "The guards will think you're a thrall too. Be fast."
I wore the dress, looking down to see how it emphasized my hips. Just as I started planning the skirt, Ragnar turned to me.
"It looks lovely," he said. "I was worried it might not look so good on you."
Ragnar turned to the chest and came back to me with a rag cap, then placed it on my head.
"Come." He held my hand, and as we walked down the corridor, I lowered my head.
I saw the people still present at the gathering. Some were beating drums and singing mourning songs. Others were drinking ale and telling mournful stories.
Ragnar stared at the people for a moment before taking me away from there. Cold wind brushed against my face. My hair was already hidden in the cap.
Before I knew it, we found ourselves in the streets crowded with people. Had this been Ake and me, the people would have come to my side, asking if I needed anything. They would have treated me with love and care. There was even an old woman who offered to give me the last clothing in her chest, which she was selling. She wanted me to wear something of hers with nothing in return.
However, now with Ragnar, they didn't even spare me a glance. The women were all staring at him. He was tall and beautiful. Any woman would want him.
Just then, a man blew fire from his mouth toward me, and I flinched, stepping behind Ragnar.
"It scared her," Ragnar said to the man before pulling me away. We continued to walk through the crowded streets, and my eyes widened when I saw a woman pinned against the wall by a man. Her legs were around his lower back, and she was completely naked. He was driving inside her, and her moans filled the air.
I paused as I continued to stare at them and realized I hadn't experienced this feeling before.
Ragnar leaned closer from behind and whispered in my ear, "You don't linger for long."
I turned to him, and he smiled, taking my hand, and we continued to walk. The people here had freedom. They could do anything they wanted, even though they were poor.
I paused again when one of the men started singing and beating drums.
Ragnar lowered himself to the man's bowl and threw a coin.
"Your thrall is beautiful," the man said.
I smiled at him before leaving with Ragnar, and we continued from there.
"I can perform magic for a few coins," one of the men said to Ragnar, but he ignored them, and we continued.
Just as we passed through another corner, I heard a loud voice from a small crowd.
"I swear to the gods," a man said, "this—this is exactly how I would take the Princess if she agrees to marry me."
He was holding a doll carved from wood, dragging it to his bottom. He pressed the head to his groin while making ridiculous thrusting movements. The crowd burst into laughter.
"I say," a woman spoke up, dressed in rags that showed too much skin, "the Princess wouldn't take you even if you were the last cock in Fellur. You're a poor wench!"
The man staggered forward, his mouth dripping with drink. Then he dropped his trousers without shame, and his manhood came into view. Many gasped in shock, while some burst into laughter.
"I might be a poor wench," he said, "but I have the biggest cock in the village." He swung his hips, and many people began laughing. I joined in. He was the village's jester and would joke about anything.
"Many women would die for a taste of this! I've sold my body for a few coins—aye, but not to the Princess. She's beautiful. Once I fuck her, she'll make me King!"
The people continued laughing.
Ragnar offered me a horn of ale, and I took it from him, sipping slowly.
"Come. Let's leave."
"One moment," I said, staring at the jester. He was now making fun of another, and I laughed.
"Do you enjoy this madness, Princess?"
"It's amusing to hear the fool speak," I smiled.
"He disrespected you," he said, and without warning, pulled me away. Ale spilled onto my hand.
"One night with you and I feel free of all the worries of being a Princess," I said, gulping the rest of the ale down.
"I'm hungry," I added. I hadn't eaten dinner.
"Come. I know a man who sells food nearby."
The smell of cooking meat and fat drifted to my nostrils, and my stomach rumbled.
We approached a trader. He was wearing a fine green woollen tunic and a cap over his head.
I stared into the pot of stew. Even though it didn't look as pleasing as it smelled, my stomach growled for a taste.
"Something to hold your belly for the night?" the trader asked.
"Aye, that'd be good for my thrall."
"Your thrall looks familiar," he said, staring at me hard. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
I stared at him in surprise. "No…"
He tilted his head, and his gaze grew even harder. It felt like he was trying to see through my eyes.
"Because," he said, "I feel like we've met before."
I blinked, wanting to close my eyes and never open them again.
Ragnar stepped forward. "You must have mistaken her for someone else."
The trader nodded, flicking his gaze to me before moving to serve the food. "Aye. I must have."
He scooped a ladle of stew into a bowl and handed it to me. The scent of seasoned meat made my stomach ache with hunger.
"Some of your bread too," Ragnar said, tossing a few coins on the table. The trader cut a chunk of black-crusted loaf and handed it to me.
I dipped the bread into the stew and chewed. It was watery and too hot, but I didn't mind as I continued eating.
"What have you come here for? A room with your thrall?"
"Aye," Ragnar nodded.
Once I was done eating, Ragnar left the bowl with a thank you before leading me toward a wooden gate.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"You'll see."
We walked through the gate. Torchlight burned against the walls, and the faint sound of drumming filled the air. The sound grew louder as we neared, and when Ragnar opened the door, I saw it.
A large longhouse. Red banners hung above the door as we entered, and the scent of sweet ale filled the room.
Ragnar led me through with a hand on my back.
Women dressed half-naked danced to the beat of drums, their hips rolling. Some were completely naked, their skin glowing with oil. A man sat beneath one of the women, his hips thrusting into her. Another was pinned against the wall, her legs wrapped around a large man as he fucked her hard.
A blonde woman lay naked on a table, her legs spread wide. She slowly trailed her fingers down her belly, slipping between her folds as she stared at the men watching her.
I stood frozen, my cheeks flushed with heat, my heart pounding. I had never seen anything like this. Never imagined such freedom in Fellur.
Just before I could open my mouth to speak, Ragnar leaned behind me, and his hot breath fell on my neck.