Page 43 of Lord of Fire and Ice

“But, Katla, he’s a thrall.”

“Wasn’t Inga a thrall when Osvald took her to his bed?” she asked.

Even though Inga had been freed later, the taint of the iron collar would follow her throughout her life.

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not.” Katla kicked a rock down the path ahead of them in frustration. “Why should a woman’s pleasure be any different than a man’s?”

She knew what he was really trying to get at. A thrall was a pariah in their world. An iron collar was cause for derision and scorn. While no one would question a man’s right to make use of a female one for bed sport, a woman who submitted to a male thrall might be seen to be demeaning herself.

Of course, Brandr probably would argue that Katla hadn’t been all that submissive. They came together like a pair of wolves last night.

Three times.

Her lips quirked in a private smile.

“Have you considered that in your bed, Ulfson might forget his place?” Finn asked, stopping as they neared the growing woodpile. “He might think himself your equal. Or even your superior.”

“Don’t trouble yourself on that score,” Katla said, waving away his objections. She’d reduced the man to quivering need. Of course, Brandr had returned the favor, but she’d definitely had the upper hand as she rode him. “I make sure he knows who’s the slave and who is master.”

“Good,” Finn said. Then he chuckled. “You intended to humble the man. I guess there’s no better place for that than the bedchamber, come to think of it. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t doing something foolish.”

“Like what?”

“Like imagining you had—oh, I don’t know, tender feelings for the man.”

Katla sighed. Tender feelings. If having her insides coil in knots that defied untangling every time she saw the man counted, then yes, she was having very tender feelings. It fair stole her breath away just to think on Brandr Ulfson.

But that didn’t mean she must be ruled by her feelings. Sentiment didn’t fill the granary or milk the cows. It wouldn’t see her people in warm cloaks come winter.

Still, she couldn’t let Finn know how closely he’d struck to the mark.

“In all my life, brother, have you ever known me to have a tender feeling?”

Finn’s shoulders lifted in a quick shrug. “You have me there, sister.”

“Then stop fretting like an old woman,” she said, fisting her hands at her waist. “Brandr Ulfson is my thrall. Nothing more. I may do what I wish with my own, and no one dares gainsay me. That’s all there is to it.”

Finn breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear it, but I can’t imagine your next husband will allow you to keep him. What will you do with Ulfson once you marry?”

“I’m not even betrothed yet. I’ve met only one possible suitor, and you promised me a choice from three.” Katla’s head snapped around in the direction of the barn. The cow was bawling loudly, in obvious agony. She sprinted off in that direction, calling over her shoulder to Finn. “As far as what I’ll do with Brandr Ulfson once I marry…we’ll take that ship when it sails.”

“I’ll give you a hand with that cow.” Finn loped after her. “You need to be ready for Otto Sturlson this evening. We can’t have you greeting him with dung on your shoes.”

***

Brandr straightened on the other side of the woodpile. Cold rage burned in his chest. Katla’s words skewered him as deeply as a Saracen’s blade.

Have you ever known me to have a tender feeling?

After all the things he and Katla had done with each other, he still meant nothing to her. She was as heartless as one of the great white bears that roamed the far North. Ferocious and pitiless, the predators fed on anything that moved.

As Katla had fed on him.

Brandr Ulfson is my thrall. Nothing more.

She had that right. There’d certainly be no more.