Chapter 22: Resist the Temptation

Harald turned behind to look at his two sons, "We'll need to find a way to convince the guard that the Baron is no longer the right choice for our lands."

The Baron, held by the scruff of his neck, started cackling, "My soldiers will understand that it's better to have an already established noble than a power-hungry fool like y—"

His voice cut off as Harald backhanded him with his gauntlet, ripping the skin of the Baron's cheek.

The Baron howled in pain as Ragnar's eye lit up with an idea, "That's already been done for us. The Baron's betrayed us by becoming Christian. How many people know that you've switched to Christianity milord?" He cheekily grinned, knowing the implications of such a matter.

The Baron started wriggling in an attempt to get out of Harald's grip, "No, they will stone me to death if they find out that I've defected."

There was clear divisiveness caused by the simple act of Rollo's denial of Christianity. The fervor of Norse paganism had reached an all-time high, and tension was rising amongst the Norman and French nobility. Though Christian's were allowed to live in peace among the Norse pagans, it was considered disrespect to the gods if one chose to defect to Christianity.

Harald nodded in appreciation of the plan, "Yes, this will work nicely. However, I'd rather him not be stoned to death. It must be something much more humiliating."

Thorkell grunted, "For leaving us to die, he must suffer a cruel death. I suggest we strip him naked and drag him behind a horse, parading throughout the town till the fat bastard dies."

Harald looked between Thorkell and the deathly pale Baron, "Yes! That will be an excellent idea. Ragnar, fetch Eve while I speak to our men. We will decide whether she deserves the same fate."

The memories of simp Ragnar from the past life affected his current emotions as he wasn't sure if he wanted Eve to suffer such a cruel fate. But in the end, such a decision was not up to him. If the gods were displeased, then they'd prevent it from going through.

Ragnar left the tent to the wailing of the Baron in the background, first informing Marquise to keep Erika safe before setting off in the direction of the Baron's manor.

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It was almost nighttime when Ragnar finally made it up the flat-topped grassy hill that held the manor. Pushing open the massive doors with a groan, Ragnar forged forward into the dimly lit great hall. There was little to no noise in the large hall as all the servants had packed up for the day, choosing to stay in their servant quarters while a couple of guards lay about, drunk beyond belief.

Ragnar didn't want to kill the guards, but neither did he want to alert Eve of his presence. That crafty witch would use the noise as a chance to escape, increasing Ragnar's work five-fold.

He slowly approached them one by one, using a knife-hand strike he learned in military training to the first guard's carotid artery, shutting down the brain and subsequently choking him out without making a sound.

After patting the guard down in search of a weapon, Ragnar managed to equip himself with a dull blade. It would assist him well as he approached the next guard and pulled him down on the knife inserted into his kidney, causing the guard's body to go into shock and unable to move while Ragnar choked the man to death.

Taking out the two other guards, Ragnar noticed that the rest were too incapacitated even to kill. He slipped past their drunk visages, getting only an odd grunt due to the disturbance.

Finally making his way past the great hall, Ragnar skulked into the side entrance, which opened up a large alleyway going deeper into the manor. Feeling his way around in the darkness, Ragnar approached the first of 5 doors. He highly doubted that the Baron would be stupid enough to place his daughter first in the line of any intruders, but he had to check anyway.

Slinking past the wooden door, he noticed a figure lying down in the queen-sized bed. He moved closer to get a better look, as the woman appeared way too large to be the petite figure of Eve.

Soon enough, Ragnar recognized the visage of Giselda, the Baron's mistress. Eve's mother had perished during childbirth and since then had been raised by Giselda, who had done a horrible job of raising a good daughter. Ragnar chuckled at the thought, slowly getting out of that room before trying the next one.

Pushing this door open, Ragnar had a feeling of promise. It looked like this was the room; he could feel it in his bones. Ragnar strode in, not bothered if he raised the attention of everyone in the manor because he now had his target in sight.

There was a split second of reaction when Ragnar realized that the person under the covers was a pillow, and Eve came bursting out of the corner of the room, knife held in hand.

Ragnar lept to the side and braced for the strike, realizing it was yet to come. He smirked at his stupidity, as even though Ragnar had overreacted, it was still comical to see Eve charging at him in slow motion.

Ragnar let the petite woman approach him before he slipped past the blade, wrenching her wrist behind her silk laden back while pinning her to the wall.

Her bosom pressed tightly against the wall, heaving in and out as she took panicked breaths, "I know it's you, Ragnar. Your woodsy masculine scent gives you away."

Ragnar growled as he played with her long golden hair, still wrenching Eve's other arm behind her back. "You seem oddly familiar with my scent, Eve."

Ragnar let go of Eve's wrist and spun her around to face him. Using every ounce of restraint to control himself, he brought his face up close and looked into those eager blue eyes, desire flooding his body.

"Of course I am Ragnar. I've been waiting years for you to grow the balls to ravish me. The question is…will you?" Eve raised her eyebrows with a smirk, arching her back to push her breasts forward.

Ragnar gulped at this manipulative bitch, "I'd consider it if I didn't know what you were —" His sentence cut off as Eve stood up on her toes to give him a gentle kiss on the lips, staring up at his eyes with an innocent expression.

"Will you?" She whispered once again.

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