Nena by Ann Boelter (digital book reader txt) 📕

Nena considered what she would say. She assumed she would have to wait until they were on their way back to Jarl’s tent to be able to speak to Altene without the others overhearing, but after the women had finished rubbing Nena’s skin with the scented oil and dressed her, Altene dismissed them. “Leave us and wait outside,” she said. “I would have words with Nena alone.”

The women holding the two long ropes hesitated.

“Go.” Altene waved them off. When they were safely out of earshot, she turned to Nena. “I have a plan for you to escape,” she whispered.

“You will bring the girl and let me go?” Nena was incredulous.

Altene frowned and shook her head. “Don’t be an idiot. I’ll not risk my neck for you.”

“Then what is your plan?” Nena asked, exasperated. “Shall I turn into some great bird and take the whole tent with me? If another way to escape with the girl was available, I would have taken it by now. But your loose tongue with Jarl has thwarted any opportunity I would have otherwise had.”

Altene nodded in agreement. “I regret many of my words now. Would that I could take them back. But that is in the past. Do you want to hear my plan or not?”

“Yes.” Nena nodded.

“You must lay with him. You must choose Jarl for your first union. It is the only way he will trust you to let you go. Once you have run of the camp, you’ll be able to find a way to escape and take the girl with you. You’ll need to leave the mother; you’re not bloodsworn to her and Jarl will not punish her. The child will be enough of a dead weight slowing you anyway. And I’m sure the woman will happily give up her daughter if it means saving her life.” Altene eyed her speculatively. “Then you will be rid of him, and I will be rid of you.”

“I can’t,” Nena whispered, and shook her head, imagining for one brief moment what Altene proposed—her beneath Jarl, instead of Altene.

“Then stay here forever,” Altene hissed. “You said you wanted to escape and I gave you a way to do it. I knew it was a lie.”

Altene’s words burned in Nena’s mind. “Choose him for your first union or stay here forever.” It seemed like forever already. Could she do it? How could she not, if it meant being free? She had no doubt of her ability to escape if she could move about the camp as freely as Altene did. And Jarl had told her he would free her. So what was stopping her? If Altene had offered for her to be branded or whipped or some other normal form of torture in exchange for freedom, she wouldn’t have hesitated before accepting. So why was this even a choice—much less a difficult one?

The vision of his lovemaking to Altene crept unbidden to her mind. One of the times she had sworn not to look but had stolen glances anyway. She knew the answer. Because it might not be torture. Nena, who was afraid of almost nothing, was afraid of this—afraid of her body’s independent response to him—afraid of losing control and being humiliated—afraid of it not being painful at all, but enjoyable. Nena knew she could withstand torture—maybe even in silence for awhile, though to scream in pain would not dishonor her. To whimper and roll beneath him as Altene did, would do nothing less.

Yet she was a warrior! How could she stay here now when an escape had offered itself so plainly? She had waited months for Jarl to be negligent to no avail. She did not have more months to wait. She must not be weak.

“He will never trust me to do it. He’ll know I’m plotting something.” Nena shook her head as she expressed her doubt with the plan.

“Perhaps. But he has a fire for you—a heat deep within that he fights. He will take you if you offer. I have no doubt.” Altene seemed both sad and bitter at the admission. “I will even make sure your dress is more suitable for the task.” She reached out and fingered the baggy hide Nena now wore. “Though nothing too nice, so as not to arouse his suspicion—your original doeskin should do nicely.”

“What if I can’t escape and I take your place in his furs?” Nena voiced one of her many concerns.

Altene laughed. “I have considered that, too. Briefly. But I’m not worried. Once he has you and realizes you are no different than any other Dor woman with a wet spot between her thighs, you will be no competition for me. Even with my skills, I cannot compete with you now—not with the virgin pedestal he has placed you on. But once the playing field is equal...Jarl will soon tire of you. And if you do not escape quickly enough, he may yet give you to Tryggr or one of the other men.”

“What if I got with child?” Nena whispered forlorn.

“We can’t have that, now can we? Not some other reason for him to keep you. I will give you the herb. It will keep his seed from growing.”

“This plan will never work. He does not ask me.”

“His eyes still ask you all the time. And if you’re worried about being refused, wait until the next battle. It will come soon, and his lust will be strong. He will not refuse you then. Though he will not be as gentle as he would on another night.”

“I don’t care about that. Even better,” Nena said vehemently, then was silent for a moment. “But that is only two days away.”

“Yes, it is.” Altene nodded. “You know, under different circumstances you and I could have been friends,” Altene said, her voice softer, reassured by Nena’s clear lack of interest in Jarl, and her near acceptance of the plan. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ll be well-served to have Jarl be your first. He’s