Get angry and demand an explanation.

Suddenly, the two beautiful young thralls noticed how the hung warrior sat up in the hay. Their eyes looked up at him, one of them still had her mouth full of that thick cock.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Tjorvi spoke up. His cock might be throbbing, but it seemed like he was more concerned about their intentions. They must’ve been ordered to do something like this, or they were doing it for their own gain. Maybe they hoped he would be able to make them free, but as he raised his voice and demanded an explanation – both of their eyes filled with fear as they pulled away. One of them said something in a foreign language which the farmer obviously couldn’t understand, and then they rushed out of the stables.

Great. There he was, laying on a hay bay with a hard cock covered in spit and the two girls who were taking care of him nowhere to be seen anymore. Guess he would have to get on with his day, as his head fell back for a moment. Not interested in being found like this by anyone else, Tjorvi reached down to pull up his pants. The outlines of his massive cock were still somewhat visible through the trousers, but there wasn’t anything to do about this. He had to redeem himself after wasting all night with fun and drinking – the raiding parties would be leaving in just a couple of days, and he couldn’t even remember the few conversations he had…

Not at all satisfied but determined to make an impression, Tjorvi started making his way out of the stables. And there it was – his perfect opportunity. The two Jarls had come together around a couple of horses, preparing their ride as it seemed like they were going out for hunting. Nearby Tjorvi recognized another face. The giant that had tried to intimidate him when he arrived at the village, and the farmer felt like this might be his chance.

“Pardon me, my Jarls.” With those simple words, all three of the older men turned towards Tjorvi curiously, not sure what to expect. Erling Trygg seemed to recognize him, as he was a close friend of his father and so he decided to hear him out. The young warrior knelt down in the middle of the stables, showing his commitment to his words. “¨My name is Tjorvi Eldgrim. I’ve come from Jokulsa to offer my axe. I want to join your raiding parties next season, and make a name for myself. That is, if you would allow it.”

Both of the Jarls looked over at each other, visibly confused. The entire setting and offer were strange. Sure, there were plenty of men who were looking for adventure and fame. However, a lot of farmers decided to stay to their own craft, and the young rulers never had to deal with anything like this before.

“Why do you think we’d let a farmer come along on our raids, boy?” Erling Trygg spoke up, seeming genuinely curious. They had plenty of Vikings, and they didn’t need an extra axe, especially if that axe was rusty like that.

“The boy has guts, my Jarl.” A familiar voice spoke up, coming from behind the Jarl and immediately recognized by Tjorvi. A growling voice, and the farmer’s boy could still remember that breath from earlier. He glanced over at the large giant that had tried to intimidate him the day before, and apparently standing up to him made the Viking have some kind of respect for him. “He won’t take much space on the ships, we don’t lose anything by taking him with us. If he dies during the raids, then so be it.” The giant continued, his words being less admiring but it did put Erling into thoughts.

“Very well, then. I’m not the one deciding who gets to Valhalla, in the end.” The old man waved in the direction of the kneeling man in front of him, telling him to stand up. Clearly, the giant was quite respected around these parts, as his vouching had convinced the jarls that Tjorvi had the guts to be useful during the raids. Or at least, just be an extra axe to die on the battlefield for the benefit of themselves. “Make sure you are ready when we take off,” Erling commented before he hopped onto the horse, and soon enough the three men rode out of the stables to hunt. Probably in order for those same preparations, perhaps because they wanted to enjoy the sports once more.

That left Tjorvi with his spot in the raiding parties after all, and eager to prepare himself for departure...

TO BE CONTINUED: To England!