7
OLD ALNA SAID to Asta, who was Gurd the blacksmitha??s wife, a??Lord Rorik keeps the woman chained to his bed. He tells me to stay away from her. What think you?a??
Asta, always laughing, wasna??t laughing now.
She shook her head. a??It is all strange.
Lord Rorik isna??t brutal, particularly to women.
Is she really so vicious, so cold and cruel?
I know she is the sister of Lord Rorika??s avowed enemy, but still, why would he treat her so meanly?
She did nothing to harm him, at least I dona??t think she did.
But the stories the men have told could curdle the goata??s milk.a??
a??Little Utta thinks shea??s very nice and shea??s been feeding her all daya??her cooking, not Enttia??sa??the same as wea??ve been eating. Do we do the right thing, Asta? With the good food, the girl will regain her strength in no time at all.a??
a??Aye, and when she does, Alna, what then?
It makes no difference. Let her eat, let her belly sing with happiness.
The child is an excellent cook, and the men wouldna??t ever suspect her of duplicity, even Ottar, her father.
Aye, let them suffer and let the prisoner grow fat.
Do you know that two of the wedded men have taken Entti since their return not twenty-four hours ago?
I suspect Gurd, but he is sly, and when he returns to me, he complains of loose bowels and belly pains.
Ha! The wives are furious. Ia??m furious.
No, Alna, let them eat Enttia??s cooking until they come to reason.a??
a??It is a good plan, this one of Ammaa??s,a?? Old Alna said. a??She is smart and determined to teach the men a lesson. She is always saying that Sculla is constant and that the others should be as well. She says that they can starve unless they come to reason.
a??It takes a long time for a man to starve,a?? Old Alna continued. a??Mayhap starvation takes longer than it takes to bring him to reason.a??
Rorik strode into the sleeping chamber. Hea??d bathed all the wild boara??s blood off him, all the rotted marsh mud, and donned a clean tunic.
He stopped, surprise and fury combining to make him flush red.
She was propped up against his feather pillow like a lady taking her ease.
Her hair was combed and braided. Soft curls had come loose to feather around her face.
She looked very different, aye, that lady or princess ensconced in her bed, waiting for her slaves to attend her.
He frowned down at her. She looked up at him, saying nothing.
He saw the chain around her wrist. It made him feel better. She might look like a princess, but she was, indeed, his hostage, chained by him. Aye, he was the master, he was the one who held her future in his hands. He wouldna??t allow her to forget it. a??Get up,a?? he said.
She rose slowly, to stand before him. a??Give me your hand, your right hand.a?? It was heavy with the chain but she thrust it toward him. He unfastened the chain from her wrist and let it drop to the ground.
She was wearing a gown of soft gray wool, a white linen tunic over it, belted. He frowned, sudden anger roiling in his belly. a??Who has aided you?a??
a??If I tell you, will you chain them to the floor and beat them?a??
a??I havena??t beat you,a?? he said, watching her massage her wrist.
a??Now you will because I have given you the idea.a??
a??Who?a??
She saw the pulse quicken in his throat. He was angry, and becoming angrier by the moment. He was the lord here and yet someone had aided her, his prisoner.
a??Hafter helped me.a?? Oh aye, Hafter, his man, let him chew on that one.
Rorik didna??t chew long. a??Ha! Hafter help you? Even if he would ever be so unwise, nay, so stupid, he wasna??t this time. He was with me all day. Stop your damned lies. It was doubtless one of the women. Who?a??
She turned from him and walked toward the doorway.
He grabbed her arm and jerked her around to face him.
She raised her other hand to strike him, and he grabbed her wrist. He saw then the scrapes and cuts and eased his hold on her hands.
He saw the red marks still sharp and angry on her wrist from the rough links of the chain.
a??Are you hungry?a??
a??Since you have starved me since you dragged me here, I am ravenous. I nearly gnawed at the chain. Will you offer me food or pig swill again?a??
He frowned. a??I dona??t know. Sit you down on the bed, and I will bring you what there is. If I dona??t deign to eat it, then you wona??t have to either.a??
He returned shortly carrying a wooden plate.
On the plate was a pile of mashed peas with some sort of red berries crushed in, a reeking pile of cabbage boiled with small chunks of what seemed to be bark from a pine tree.
In the center of the plate lay a large herring, headless, not boned, and burned blacker than a Christiana??s sins.
She looked at the plate. a??Is there naught else? Is all the food like this?a??
a??Aye,a?? he said, and looked grim.
Mirana didna??t know what was going on here.
Also, it threw her off balance to see another side of this man.
Hea??d been only vicious to her, but now he looked ready to howl or weep at the sight of the inedible slop on the plate.
Mirana thought of the wonderful bread, the delectable roasted herring shea??d been fed earlier, the big plate of beans seasoned to perfection.
But now this. She said nothing. It made no sense.
a??I would rather starve,a?? she said deliberately, and glowed at the thought of her full belly. a??Take this miserable swill and grind it under your heel, or act an enraged child again and throw it onto the ground like you did this morning with the porridge.a??
Instead, Rorik dumped the plate onto her lap, stepped back, rubbed his hands together, and said with a good deal of mockery, a??If it was Hafter who aided youa??which of course seems very likely for I see him wearing gowns all the timea??why then, he now owns one less gown.a?? He gave her a long thoughtful look.
a??Though I must say that this particular shade of gray with the white tunic doesna??t match his eyes.
Why then, he will surely be displeased for this gown is ruined now.
I will tell him what you have said and watch his face turn purple with fury.a??
He strode from the sleeping chamber. She stared after him. She realized a few moments later that hea??d been so angry, hea??d forgotten and left her unchained. She stood, wiping gobs of food from the skirt of her gown.
The gown had belonged to Uttaa??s mother.
Now it would need to be washed, vigorously, and hopefully be saved.
She walked into the great hall, a folded blanket over her arm, and was again aware that conversation flagged.
She could feel the men staring after her, distrust in their eyes, uncertainty, since she was free.
She felt only curiosity from the women. Perhaps something more than just curiosity from them.
Whatever they were thinking of her, she didna??t feel the chill she felt from the men.
She looked neither to the right nor to the left. She walked to the front doors. They were pushed wide open. Not a word, not a shout, not a yell from Rorik. She wondered why he hadna??t at least ordered her to stop.
She went to the bathing hut. There were buckets of water in the outer room.
She stripped off the gown and the tunic and washed both garments.
She wrapped herself in the blanket, spread the gown and tunic over the benches to dry, and left the hut.
She turned toward the palisade wall, just to see what was there, how thick the walls were, what the gates were like, what . . .
She came face-to-face with Rorik. He held three good-sized silver bass by hooks on a line. Kerzog was standing at his side, his tongue lolling.
She stared at the fish.
He looked at her face, then down at the blanket wrapped around her. a??What are you doing out here?a??
a??I had to wash the gown you ruined with the swill. What are you doing with the fish?a??
He looked undecided, then shrugged. a??Come with me.a??
She followed him, her blanket held firmly to her neck.
He squatted down near the wall at the eastern corner of the palisade, and built a small fire from the pile of twigs and small branches stacked there.
Kerzog fell onto his haunches close to the fire and watched his master, his big head cocked to one side, as if in question.
Rorik motioned for her to sit down. She watched him scale the bass with a small knife as sharp as the one shea??d lightly speared into his throat.
Then he lifted an iron pan hea??d obviously brought from the longhouse, smeared the bass with thick sweet butter, and laid all three of them with near reverence into the pan.
He set it over the fire, sat down cross-legged and stared at the pan, as if willing it to heat quickly and cook that fish.
She laughed, she couldna??t help it.
a??Ia??m starving,a?? he said matter-of-factly. He continued looking at the fish, now beginning to bubble and spit, and said, a??Ia??ll give you one of them.a??
a??It seems fair. I did feed you in your captivity.a??
a??Aye, and you tried to gullet me.a??
a??Had I wanted to kill you, I could have, easily. You were as helpless as that gutted bass.a??
a??I am tired of your swaggering. Be quiet. Watch the fish. Do you think this one in the middle is nearly done?a??
It was hissing in the thick butter, darkening nicely, looking quite delicious.
a??No, it is still raw on the inside. Must you feed yourself every night?a??