Page 122 of Viking in Love

He had just relaced his braies and gone out into the corridor when a small animal jumped on his back. The hands of the animal went around his neck and stuffed what seemed to be a pair of hose in his mouth. Other animals were knocking him to the floor and tying his hands behind his back and his ankles together. Turning his head to the side, he was shocked to see that the villains were his children. Hugh, Beth, Mina, Kendrick, and Oslac tried to lift him several times, but kept dropping him because of his weight and their relatively small size. What game is this? I am going to kill the little buggers.

After whispered consultation among the lackwits, they began dragging him along the hall, then outside, where they lifted him into a wheelbarrow. He would have bruises all over his body. Some small people I know are going to have bruises on their little rumps when I am done.

By the time they arrived at the cold cellar, where little Angus was standing guard with a wooden sword in his hand, Caedmon was swearing behind his gag. God’s teeth! This is no longer funny, if it ever was. There were going to be blistered arses aplenty in this castle come morning.

Once they got him down the steps, one rough bump at a time, he saw Alfred and Aidan rise from where they had been nodding off.

Propping him up against the wall in a seated position on a blanket, Hugh told him, “Father, we are doing this for your own good. You will thank us on the morrow…or the next day.”

Mayhap I should send you to a monastery, boy, to show how thankful I am. Caedmon hoped his eyes told Hugh how grateful he was going to be.

They all left then, even Alfred and Aidan. He could hear them up above, outside the door, talking with Angus.

He had no idea what this was all about until, a short time later, the door opened again, and another body was dragged down the steps. Muffled sounds of protest came from said body, which was wearing a white bed rail. They dumped the body next to him on the blanket.

Guess who? he jested with himself. He even laughed, or tried to, under his gag.

All of his children…well, nine of them…Piers presumably being too young to participate…stood looking down at them. Hugh, the spokesman, said, “I know this looks bad, but we are doing this for your own good.”

“All ye gotta do is tup ’er ’til her eyes roll in her head and she agrees ta be yer bride,” Joanna said.

I cannot believe she said that. Does she even know what tupping is?

“Joanna! You were not to tell them that,” Hugh chastised her.

You can say that again!

Joanna ducked her head. “Well, ’tis true,” she mumbled.

Breanne’s eyes widened, then darted to the side to glare at him.

Hey, it was not my idea.

“You have plenty of food and blankets and stuff,” Beth pointed to various baskets.

“We will check on you once every day to see…well, to see how you are progressing.”

Hugh looked at his little band of lackwits and raised a hand in the air, yelling, “To victory!”

“To victory!” the rest of the scamps echoed.

Then they ran up and out the door, but Hugh ran back and said, “Oops. I forgot.” He quickly loosened the ropes on Breanne’s hands, enough so she would be able to undo them the rest of the way. Then he ran up and outside again. This time, the door slammed down, and he heard the lock being engaged.

A short time later, he and Breanne were both free. Well, free but captives of his own children.

“Yell for help,” Breanne suggested.

“No one will hear us. We are down too low and far away from the keep. The only way shouting would help is if people come searching for us out this way.”

“Did you put them up to this?”

I was hoping it was you. “Are you barmy? Why would I do that?”

“Sex.”

“You are barmy. If I wanted sex, it would not be in a root cellar on the hard floor with a shrew.” Though I would not turn it away.

“Sorry. I should not have said that. What are we going to do?”