Chapter 6
Olav fingered his beard as he looked at Zarabeth.
He felt now, thank the saints, in full control of himself and of the situation.
He felt good knowing he was in charge again, that it was his word, and his alone, that would determine what would happen now.
That barbarian merchant Viking was on his vessel, safe from Olava??s wrath, and his bitch of a stepdaughter was here, alone with him, at his mercy, at his command.
Ah, but he would make her pay for her near-defection.
He looked at her in the dim light of the bear-oil lamp.
It was very late now, and they were home at last, in the living area, and she knew now that her little sister wasna??t here.
He enjoyed the fear and confusion on her face.
He more than enjoyed it; he relished it.
a??You will do exactly as I tell you, Zarabeth,a?? he said at last. She was standing before him now, staring at him.
a??Where is Lotti?a?? Zarabeth asked for the third time, her voice shaking now, her desperation nearer the surface. a??What have you done with her? You said she was upset that I wasna??t here. You lied to me! Where is she, Olav? What have you done with her?a??
a??I wona??t tell you, my girl. At least, not until you have made your promise to me, not until you have sworn to rid me and yourself of this Viking bastard.a??
Zarabeth shook her head at him. a??You told me you wished me to know my own mind. You told me you would abide by my decision. Where is Lotti?a??
Olav waved his hand, clearing away her questions. a??Fret not, Zarabeth. Your idiot sister is safe, at least at the moment. You wona??t see her again until youa??ve done exactly as I tell you.a??
a??I want to marry Magnus Haraldsson. I will go back to Norway with him and I will take Lotti with me.a??
a??Nay, you wona??t. You will remain here with me, safe in York. Perhaps, if I wish it, I will wed you, for I hold not any of your blood. No one would object, not even King Guthrum. Ha! He himself has three concubines, and one is rumored to be his niece. Nay, he wona??t object.a??
He saw the look of revulsion on her face then and lost control.
He jumped from his chair and slapped her so hard her head snapped back and she was flung to her side onto the rush-covered floor.
He stood over her, hands on his hips. a??No more will you act impetuous, Zarabeth.
No more will you treat me like a toothless elderly uncle or like a despised old man to be tolerated and nothing more!
No more, do you understand me? Nod your head, damn you, else Ia??ll have that idiot sister of yours killed this very night! a??
a??I understand.a??
a??Good. I wanted to wait, truly I did. I had hoped that in the next three days you would have come to realize that you didna??t want to be allied to a savage, to that filthy Norse trader, but you left my house!
Alone and unprotected, and you went to the harbor, to him!
That you could be so stupid appalls me. Did you let him have your maidenhead?
Did you part your legs for him?a?? His voice was shaking, and he stopped, breathing deeply.
a??Well, it matters not. You wona??t have him, Zarabeth, not ever, and therea??s an end to it.a??
She tried to think clearly, but she was terrified for Lotti, and she felt a growing pounding in her head from the blow hea??d given her.
Lotti. He must have turned her over to Keith.
Her blood curdled. Keith and his wife, Toki, had Lotti, there was little doubt.
They felt nothing but contempt for the child and scorned her.
She felt fear, thick and raw, fill her, slow her thinking, make her react sluggishly.
She had to get back to Magnus. He would get Lotti back. He would know what to do. a??Magnus,a?? she said very quietly, but Olav heard her.
a??Dona??t think it, girl. I will kill her the moment you go back to that bastard Viking.
Now I will tell you more truths, Zarabeth.
Lotti is not of my flesh, did you know that?
No, that whore mother of yours, my dear wife, Mara, slept with another man, the same fool man she ran away with, but she left you, choosing herself and her bastard get over you, her only legitimate child.
But the whore died and the little bastard is an idiota??a??
a??She isna??t! She was perfect until you struck her that night when you brought her home! And all because she was crying for her mother, you struck her, so hard that she was unconscious for two days! You are the bastard, rotten to your black soul, and you dona??t deserve toa??a??
a??a??and she will also die if you dona??t do exactly what I tell you to do.a??
Zarabeth raised her eyes to Olava??s face. a??I wish I had a dagger. I would kill you.a??
a??Then Lotti would surely be dead by the morning.a??
Zarabeth rubbed her palm over her cheek. It was still stinging. She said dully now, uncertain, more afraid than shea??d ever been in her life, a??You want me to wed with you?a??
a??Perhaps soon. Not now. Now I would simply have you remain in my house. When you are more comfortable with me, I will bed you. Then, if I wish it, you will become my wife.a??
It was nearly too much to understand. She shook her head, but the pounding only increased, and with it, her despair.
His voice softened and he came down on his haunches beside her.
a??Listen to me, girl. I dona??t want to hurt you.
Dona??t force me to. I want you willing and smiling.
I want you the way you were before you met the Viking.a?? He frowned at his own words.
No, he didna??t want her to return to being the way shea??d been before the Vikinga??shea??d been unconscious of him, not really seeing him, suffering his presence, actually.
She lay there, balanced up on her elbow, unconsciously pulling back from him.
She smelled the sweet violets she had sprinkled into the rushes that covered the packed earthen floor.
She looked toward the glowing embers in the fireplace.
She looked at her neatly stacked pails and pots and wooden trenchers on the wide shelf in the cooking area.
Everything looked so blessedly normal. Yet she was afraid, she felt paralyzed with fear.
All the violence in Dublin, all the killing and hatred between the Viking rulers and the petty Irish chieftains, all was but a vague memory.
Even the battles between King Alfred and King Guthrum seemed unsubstantial to her now, though the battles had scarred every family she knew, bringing death and tears and torn bodies.
No, it was far away, that violence. The true violence was here in this house, and this was real.
She stared at Olav, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do.
Lotti. The child had no one but her, no one to understand her, to care for her. No one but her sister, Zarabeth.
She felt tears spring to her eyes and sniffed them back. Crying was good for naught. Crying was for the helpless, and she wasna??t that, at least not yet.
Olav spoke again, his voice more wheedling, more cajoling.
a??Come, Zarabeth, say youa??ll bid this Viking farewell.
Say youa??ll tell him youa??ve decided against marriage with him.
Hea??ll sail away, and all will become again as it was.
Ita??s so easy, Zarabeth. Just promise me you will tell him.
Youa??ll see him tomorrow in the square, and you will tell him you dona??t want him for your husband.a??
She shook her head. a??No, Olav. I wona??t tell him that. I want him and I think I will come to love him. I wona??t lie to him for you.a??
He rose then, with finality, and dusted off his trousers.
He said in an emotionless voice, a??Then Lotti will be dead by tomorrow morning.a?? She stared up at him.
His cross-garters had come down and were bunched at his ankles; his fine woolen hose were wrinkled and bagging at the knees.
He looked disheveled and old. Aye, he looked like an old man, a tired old man who wasna??t getting his way, and wanted a victim to lash out at.
a??Nay, I wona??t tell him that I dona??t want him. If you harm Lotti, he will kill you.a??
Olav shrugged and looked at her with lifeless eyes.
a??It matters not, then, does it? The idiot child will be dead, I will be dead, and you will have your Viking.
You will sail to Norway with him, alone, with nothing but the clothes on your back.
And you will know that your selfishness meant death to two people who love you.a??
a??Love! You miserable old liar! You threaten to kill my little sister and you say that you love me? By all the gods, I would that I could kill you right now!a??
She rolled over and came up onto her knees. Her face was flushed with anger, with disbelief, and Olav took a quick step backward, for he saw violence in her eyes.
Then he smiled at her, and shrugged. a??Believe what you will.
You are a woman and thus your thoughts are beyond a mana??s logic.
But know this, Zarabeth: the child will be dead by tomorrow at noon if you do not do my bidding.
a??Tis up to you, girl. I offer you the childa??s life for that miserable Vikinga??s lust.a?? He paused a moment, stared at her, and she fancied she could see the pounding of his blood in the pulse in his neck.
a??Did you let him cover you tonight? Did he take your maidenhead? a??
a??Hush your filth! You are much worse than your son!a??
a??So a??tis your lust for your little sistera??s life. Youa??re just like your whore of a mother, arena??t you? You arena??t so much of a loving sister after all. Youa??re nothing but a fake.a??