5
SHE WAS STANDING when he came into the room again, a wooden bowl of stew in his hand.
He stared at her as she was bent forward like an old woman, wrapped in a blanket, her hair streaming down her back and over her shoulders, staring at him, her eyes dull, her face too pale.
He saw a brief spark of anger, of defiance perhaps, in her eyes, but it was quickly gone.
As for Kerzog, he was being watchful, but nothing more.
It appeared hea??d made no move to stop the woman from rising from the box bed.
He said to her, a??I told you that my men really have no interest in you.
Youa??re skinny, not at all appetizing. A man would have to be starving for a woman before he would turn his eyes to you.
Although the dousing in the sea relieved you of the worst of your smell, you still look like a wet scrap.
You will not go into the main chamber. Get back into bed.
I wona??t tell you again. Kerzog, watch her. Keep her here.a??
She didna??t move. His dog, raised by him from a tiny pup, merely kept looking at the woman.
He frowned at his dog, then at her and took a step toward her. She still didna??t move.
a??Where were you going?a??
a??I must relieve myself,a?? she said, and hated him for forcing her to say it aloud, though it shouldna??t have mattered, not after the three days on his warship.
He cursed, plowing his fingers through his hair.
a??Come along.a?? He set the bowl of stew on the end of the bed, told his dog to keep away from it, then turned and left the chamber.
She trailed behind him, wrapped in the now-damp blanket, half of it dragging behind her on the beaten earth floor. Kerzog slowly followed.
She followed him from the longhouse, aware of the boisterous conversation that quieted when she appeared. He took her to a small shed and said, a??This is the privy. Hurry. I will wait for you here.a??
When she emerged from the small shed a few minutes later he simply looked at her, just like his damned dog was still looking, then motioned for her to follow him again.
This time he led her into a large stone and wood building.
Inside there was an outer chamber with benches along the sides of the wall.
It was the bathing hut, and she felt a spurt of hope.
Surely he wouldna??t bring her here just to watch him bathe.
She followed him into the inner chamber, small and square, filled with heat and steam drawn from the pile of burning embers filling the fire pit in the center of the chamber.
Wooden planks covered the floor and more wooden benches lined the walls.
He stood her in the middle of the room, pulled the blanket off her, and said, a??Stand still.
If you move, Ia??ll toss you in the sea again.
Ia??ll have my dog kill you. Hea??s vicious.
He protects me and my island that you have so freely scorned.a??
She stood there, shivering despite the billowing heat and the thick steam, trying to cover herself, and knowing that she failed and knowing too that he was looking at her, but that he didna??t care, that she repulsed him.
She should be grateful for that, she thought, watching him coming into the chamber again, a bucket in each hand.
She knew what was coming and nearly yelled with the anticipation of it.
He threw a bucket of hot water on her. He handed her a piece of soap carved into the shape of a small bird.
A tern, if she wasna??t mistaken. She was going mad, she knew it. A tern!
a??Bathe, all over, and hurry.a??
She did. She didna??t even notice that hea??d left her alone.
Shea??d never before in her life realized the luxury of a bath with soap.
It was wonderful. Hea??d left another bucket on the wooden plank beside her.
She rinsed her hair and soaped it again.
Once clean, she had nothing to do but wait.
She couldna??t fetch her own water, not naked.
When he appeared, he looked at her, his expression grim. a??Hold still.a?? He poured the water slowly over her head as she rinsed herself. Then he backed up several feet. She looked at him even as he raised the bucket and threw ice-cold water on her.
She shuddered and heaved and yelled even though shea??d known what was coming.
He laughed. She reacted just as he always did. Evidently Einar had a bathing hut on Clontarf like this one.
Once she was dry, he handed her the damp blanket again, and motioned her to follow him.
Conversation became muted once again. Mirana looked neither to the right nor to the left. She followed him into his sleeping chamber and sat down on the edge of the bed. He tossed an antler comb onto her lap. Kerzog hadna??t come into the sleeping chamber this time.
a??Eat first else you might collapse again. I dona??t wish to have to untangle that witchesa?? nest on your head.a??
Obediently she took the bowl of stew from him, the stew now long cold.
She took a bite, and gagged. It tasted like congealed grease and strangely sour.
The bits of meat were stringy, the sauce filled with lumps as nasty as rye root.
She was hungry but she wasna??t starving.
She forced down another bite, then set the bowl aside.
Any more of it and shea??d vomit again. Her stomach was knotting and unknotting in painful spasms.
Rorik looked at her, his frown building. a??Finish it.a??
She looked up at him, holding the blanket tightly over her breasts. a??It tastes like pig swill. There is so much grease on the top that it has hardened.a??
She thought he would burst with rage but she didna??t care. If he struck her, perhaps he would kill her. At the moment, it didna??t matter, nothing mattered.
He seemed to get control of himself. He lifted the bowl and took a bite.
It was bad, he thought, very bad. Worse than it usually was, though that was usually bad enough of late.
Even the women who prepared food well seemed to have forgotten over the past weeks.
It was Entti, he thought, the women had given the task again to Entti.
He sighed, but he didna??t give in, he was still too furious with her.
She was his prisoner, less than a slave, and yet she dared to speak her mind as if she were the mistress here.
She dared to show her disgust for him and for his farmstead.
She dared to scorn the food that only a halfwit would eat.
She dared to allow Kerzog, the dog hea??d raised from a pup, a very small pup, just watch her but make no threatening growls or moves.
He said, a??You will consume it as you would a feast. Every bite.
If you dona??t, then you may go hungry, I care not. You can starve.a??
a??I cana??t eat it,a?? she said, and knew immediately that he would indeed not give her anything else to eat.
a??I wona??t eat it.a?? For how long? Would he let her starve to death?
a??No one could eat it.a?? She looked at him, at the closed expression, at the anger in his eyes.
She didna??t want to starve. She fancied it wouldna??t be a very pleasant way to die.
It would be far too slow even though she was already so hungry shea??d believed she could eat anything. Shea??d been wrong.
Drowning would have been better. She would simply have to escape, that was all, and then when he caught her, as she was certain he would, for it was an island, after all, he would kill her. It would be over.
She smiled at him. a??Give me the comb.a??
He tossed it at her, then left the chamber without another word.
Mirana knew it was late at night because the loud voices that had filled the silence for hour upon hour were now silent.
Nearly everyone must be asleep. Shea??d slept most of the afternoon, but shea??d awakened, hungry and alone, and laid there.
Her stomach churned and clenched and growled.
No one had come. Shea??d had no desire to rise and go into the huge outer room.
She wondered where he was. This was his sleeping chamber, she was sure of it. Where was he?
As if conjured up by her mind, he came into the room.
There was a fresh bandage of soft white linen wrapped around his shoulder.
He was clean and dressed in a fresh tunic belted at his waist. He was big and powerful, his hair thick and blond on his head, his eyes the light blue of a Viking whose blood wasna??t tainted, as was hers.
He was clean shaven. He was a magnificent animal, she supposed, but she didna??t care.
She wished shea??d killed him. Her fingers itched for her knife.
He held a rush torch light in his right hand. He held it high and looked at her. a??Youa??re awake, are you?a??
She said nothing.
a??Good. Now I shana??t have to rouse you and listen to your endless complaints. At least I had the foresight to have you bathe.a??
He was going to ravish her. She held perfectly still, preparing herself for his attack. She wouldna??t give in to him easily. She would fight him until he was forced to strike her, perhaps kill her. She waited, her muscles tensed, ready. If only she had her knife, if only.
He doused the rush torch light. She heard him removing his clothing. He sat on the far side of the bed, so close to her really, and she pictured him taking off his boots.
Then he rose and she knew he was coming to the other side of the bed, to her.
Her heart thudded hard and heavy. She tasted fear in her mouth.
Fear and hatred of him and resolve that her rape wouldna??t be easy for him, that she would hurt him badly if she could.
She heard him brush against his trunk that sat at the foot of the bed. She was ready for him, she had to be.