by Fiona Faris
“A Jarl is like your Laird. A noble warrior that leads us.”
“What is your Jarl’s name?”
She fell quiet, refusing to answer.
“Listen to me, slave,” Tadhg moved towards her, the knife rising in his hands. Gavin forced himself forward a step, detesting every part and eager to intervene. “Ye start answerin’ me questions, or ye discover first-hand what some of the instruments behind me feel like.”
“You believe it would bother me?” she scoffed, shaking her head, “Ask me what you will - ask about Viking tactics and plans, but it will do you nei good. I would prefer torture to betraying my kinsmen. No threat you make will change my mind.”
“Ye may think differently once ye experience the pain.”
“You are a fool for thinking I could be broken so easily.”
Something appeared to snap in Tadhg’s face. He stepped away and reached back for the flay on the way. He took it in his hand just as Gavin stepped forward, blocking Tadhg’s path back to Idunn.
“Tadhg!” His blockade surprised his brother. Tadhg jumped back, having to restrain himself with the instrument.
“What are ye –”
“I must speak to ye in private,” Gavin took his brother’s arm and dragged him from the room. They left the door open so they could watch Idunn and ensure she would not escape. She sat on the table, her gaze following them with curiosity.
“Gavin, what are ye –”
“Listen, Tadhg,” Gavin ushered Tadhg to whisper so that their captive could not hear them, “I am tryin’ to accept that torture is the right path here, but I cannae.”
“Of course, ye can,” Tadgh took Gavin’s shoulder with a hand, offering a clap of support, “Come on, brother. Ye ken we need to learn what we can from her if we are to stay safe from the Vikin’s. Faither kens this. Ye ken this. This is the only way.”
“There must be another way.”
“Ye ken there isnae. Why does this bother ye so much?”
Gavin looked between Idunn on the table and his brother, feeling his stomach as though it were a great water snake, writhing around in circles and knots.
“Is it because she is a woman?” Tadhg shook his head. “From what David said on the beach, she slaughtered many. Violence is nae a thing to her. She is as much a killer as any man ye or I have met in battle.”
“I ken.”
“So, what is the quandary? Why do ye object?”
“Perhaps I just daenae have the stomach for it.” The lie came easily from him. Had he thought it justified, he may have endorsed interrogation of a kind. Yet this was not warranted. Not to him. He could not bear to see her so mistreated. This warrior goddess did not belong in a torture chamber. “Her leg has still nae healed either. Would ye hurt a wounded man? She cannae stand properly.”
“Aye, I can see that. Do ye wish to talk to the healer more?”
“Aye, I do.”
“Then how about this,” Tadhg clapped his brother’s shoulder again, offering comfort, “Ye go talk to the healer, find out what ye can about her state, and leave me alone with the woman to talk a little more.”
“Alone?” Gavin was aware of how much louder his voice had grown. “Nay chance of that.”
“Ha! Do ye nae trust me, brother?” Tadhg was chuckling as he looked back into the room where Idunn sat. Her stare had moved to the torture instruments. “All I am suggestin’ is if ye daenae have the stomach for what is about to pass, then ye let me see to this meself.” Tadhg moved towards the room, but Gavin caught his arm, holding him back.
“If I am to leave yer side, ye must promise me nae to harm her. Make all the threats ye want, but daenae lay a finger on her.”
Tadhg’s almond-colored eyes looked between him and the woman.
“Ye need a stronger stomach, brother.”
“I ken, I will get one in time, but nae today.”
Tadhg hesitated in his reply, his face wincing as though suffering in pain. He relented finally, forcing Gavin to release his arm.
“As ye wish, ye have me word,” Tadhg nodded, giving way, “Ye see to the healer. I will see to her.” He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Gavin on the other side with fear making his heartbeat loud in his ears.
Have I made a mistake?
It did not take long to find the physician. He had retreated from Idunn’s cell to the castle's kitchens to collect more herbs for his medicine.
“Maldouen?” Gavin appeared at the physician’s side, only to earn a shake of the old man's head, one of strong disapproval.
“Ah, Gavin. How bad is the woman sufferin’?” His voice was croaky with age.
“We havenae harmed her,” Gavin shifted between his feet, uncomfortable at the accusation, “I have nay intention to.”
“Ye daenae?” The old man’s white eyebrows quirked in surprise. “May I speak out of turn?”
“Ye always can with me, Maldouen. Ye ken that.” Gavin had known the physician since he was a lad. The man had seen him through many ailments as a child – being with him in the darkest times had built a friendship and trust between them.
“It is difficult when ye are a Laird’s son, ye understand, Sir.”
“I am nae bothered by such a thing. Feel at liberty to speak freely with me.” Gavin watched as the man prepared some herbs, tearing mint leaves between his fingers and pressing them with a pestle and mortar.
“I daenae endorse torture, Sir. And to be honest,” the man hesitated as he pressed the mint leaves together, “I daenae think a future Laird should endorse it either.”
Bold indeed.
Maldouen’s remarks merely brought a smile to Gavin.
“Aye, perhaps ye are right. I wish to speak to ye about the woman.”
“Aye?”
“How is she doing?”
“As I said yesterday, she is out of the woods in terms of the wound bein’ life threatenin’. She grows stronger by the day, but she will be limping for a while. She doesnae eat well,” he gestured down to the mint leaves in the mortar, “I am hopin’ a mixture of mint will help to calm her stomach. Maybe it will aid her to eat. Ye understand yer faither has only paid for me services up until today. From tomorrow, she will have to care for herself.”
The news dropped on Gavin as though it were stones on his shoulders.
“Maldouen,” he lowered his voice, looking around to ensure none of the scullery staff was listening to his words, “Please, continue to work with her. I will pay ye meself until she has healed.”
“Ye are certain, Sir?” The physician lifted his head, pausing with his work on the mint leaves.
“Aye, I am certain.”
When Gavin returned to the cell, he felt clammy. Sweat was beading across the back of his neck and his hands. He was fearful of what he would discover and if Tadhg had held true to his word or not. As he reached the door, preparing to enter, Tadhg stepped out.
“Tadhg? What has happened?”
“Nae a thing,” Tadhg shook his head and gestured back to the woman on the table with a whisper, “She willnae be broken.”
Gavin turned his eyes into the room to see Idunn sat on the table just as he had left her. She was staring forward with her chin still high; the only wound she bore was the one in her leg; no other harm had been brought to her.
“Ye dinnae touch her?”
“I am nay a monster, and I gave ye me word,” Tadhg leaned on the wall beside him, “She is already in substantial pain, ye can see it. With that and the threat of further pain, she still wouldnae talk. Many a man would have broken long before. Causin’ her pain would be futile.”
“Ye havenae discovered anything?”
“Nae a thing,” Tadhg chuckled slightly, “And I daenae believe it would be any use to us to question her further. She is used to battle, used to wounds. Torture doesnae make her afraid.”
“Aye, she still wanted to walk away from the battle, even bearin’ that leg wound.”
“She did?” Tadhg
shook his head in disbelief. “She is a tough one. She keeps sayin’ she will protect her kin until her death, even if that means facin’ pain. I believe her. Even if we were to torture her, she willnae betray them.”
Gavin was reminded of his conversation with Idunn on the hill as they had walked away from the battle. She had challenged him, demanding that he could not expect her to betray her kin, no more than he could betray his own.
“Thank ye for yer help. Ye have done yer job well,” he patted Tadhg’s arm and moved into the room, watching as she turned her blue-green eyes to him. Her face did not change at seeing Gavin; she merely tilted her head to the side.
“Have you come to threaten harm to me as well?”
“Nay.” He folded his arms. “Ye will nae be tortured.” She nodded in reply. “But ye understand, if ye are nae to be of use to us in our defense against the Vikin’s then ye must be of use to us somehow.”
“How?”
“Duties as a slave.” He pointed down at her leg. “The healer will come to see ye again in a few minutes. We need ye on yer feet as quickly as possible.”
“What will you have me do as your slave?” She tried to climb down off the table. As though to help her, he moved towards her, but her sudden dark look made his feet fall still.
Aye, she doesnae want me help.
“Yer duties will be a matter for the steward and the marshal.”
She stepped forward, heading for the door to make her way back to the dungeon. She stumbled and fell against the wall, hissing at the sudden pain.
Gavin moved towards her, noting her flinch at the movement.
“I do not need your help.”
“Aye, ye do. Ye can barely stand, laoch,” Gavin heard the softening of his own tone. Seeing her eyebrows raise in response, he cleared his throat and returned to the harsher voice he had used before. “Ye will have to suffer through bein’ helped.”
He placed an arm around her back and another under her legs. She looked away from him, refusing to see his face as he carried her from the room. Gavin could feel her holding herself as still as possible in his arms. Her cheeks were pale from the exertion of the day, but her lips were pressed firmly together, antagonized at being so aided.
As he reached her cell, he placed her back on the bed. He walked away without a word, but as he closed the door, he thought he heard her mumble something under her breath.
“If only I had died on that beach.”
Chapter Nine
“Ah, so ye must be the one they call Idunn,” a woman’s voice came from the corner of Idunn’s cell. She flicked her head round to see a woman of similar height to her own, bearing long wavy brown hair and hazel eyes. “Me name is Kenna. I am the sister of Gavin and Tadhg.”
Idunn nodded, unsure if she should be commenting or not. It had been a week since the day where the two highlanders had threatened to torture her; she had not seen them since. Yet every day, the healer had returned to her side. She was now much recovered and could walk significantly better. The healer had deemed his responsibilities concluded that morning and declared her fit for work as a slave.
Slave.
Idunn repeated the word in her head with disdain.
“Well, ye are nae a talkative one, I see. Come with me then.” Kenna beckoned her towards the door. “It is time ye left this horrible place.”
Idunn was only too glad to follow; it had been a long time since she had left that room. She walked alongside Kenna as she led a path through the other dungeons, heading up a spiral staircase that led to one of the towers within the keep. Each step of the way, Kenna talked, though Idunn did not always pay attention.
“They tell me ye are Norse, ye came with the invaders?”
The word ‘invaders’ grated on Idunn, but she responded, nevertheless.
“Já, I did.”
“I hope ye will someday tell me about where ye have come from. I have nae travelled beyond me clan and would love to hear of other places.”
“You have not left this land?” Idunn turned her eyes on the young woman with wonder.
“Nay. As much as I would wish to, me duties are here after all. Speaking of duties, ye shall have to report to the steward and the marshal. They control all the servants’ responsibilities, and as ye are a slave, they will be yer superiors.” Kenna directed their steps out of the stone tower and across the open grass of the inner bailey courtyard.
Idunn’s gaze shot up to the towers and grey stone keep above her. The sheer magnitude and grandness of the building was a sight to behold as it loomed above, stretching into the cloudy sky.
“Ha!” Kenna laughed with warmth. “Ye look as though ye have seen a giant.”
“We do not have such buildings,” she gestured with a hand to the keep.
“Ye daenae? Ah, it is a beautiful place indeed. Give it a few days, and ye will take it in yer stride as the rest of us do. This way,” Kenna directed her around the keep, heading towards a gate in the inner wall.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To the servant’s quarters. I am nae sure where they will expect ye to sleep as a slave, but they have asked me to take yer there to collect yer clothes. Ye will bathe, change, and then begin yer duties.”
“What will be my duties?”
“Ah, I am afraid they are nae duties I envy ye for.” Kenna showed her to a small oak door in the outer curtain wall and urged her inside. “There will be leech collectin’ for the physician, clearnin’ armour with the squire, fullin’ too, I expect. We have many sheep here. Our wool trade is a profitable one.”
Fulling?
Idunn did not recognize the word. She struggled for a few minutes, trying to think of a possible translation, but decided there wasn’t one.
“This way,” Kenna urged her through another door. This one led to a long room with an earth floor and stone walls. There were straw beds scattered around the space. “Ah, here we are. They said they would leave some here.” Kenna collected a bundle of clothes from a nearby straw bed. “This is where the servants sleep. We will meet the steward here soon, but first, we must clean ye up.” Kenna moved Idunn’s braid behind her shoulder, apparently trying to neaten her up. Idunn bristled at the close contact.
Kenna led her back out of the room, beyond the outer curtain wall, and towards a stream that meandered to the bottom of the hill.
“Here, ye shall bathe. Then ye must put these clothes on.”
Idunn watched as Kenna stretched out her new clothes on a nearby tree branch. The sight of them made Idunn cling to the cattle-hide armour she wore. They were clothes she never would have chosen to wear. It was a long tunic dress, pale blue in color, with a simple leather strap as a belt. There was a pale kirtle, too, with long sleeves designed to reach the wrists.
“Come on ye, we cannae afford to dally,” Kenna clapped her hands and waved for Idunn to get into the water.
Idunn clamped down on the anger in her stomach and began to remove the cattle-hide armour, letting each piece of her clothing drop to the floor with a heavy thud before moving into the water. The shock of the cold water against her wound made her hop onto her good leg. She dived under the water, encouraging her body to quickly adapt to the icy temperature. She looked back to see Kenna gathering her old clothes together.
They will not let me keep my clothes.
Her thoughts turned back to what Kenna had said, and the duties she would have to face. The mention of leech collecting had her looking down into the water, suddenly fearing what was beneath her bare feet. Then she remembered another duty Kenna had mentioned.
“Kenna?”
“Aye?”
“What is fulling?”
“Ah…” Kenna looked at her with a wince. “Ye will probably wish ye hadnae asked.”
Idunn was cursing under her breath as her bare feet pressed down on the liquid and wool. She scrunched up her nose, trying to stop herself from breathing through it and having to face the horrid smell again.
Fulling.
Has there ever been as foul a duty as this?
Within the yard of the outer curtain wall, she was standing in a barrel with her tunic dress tied around her thighs. Beneath her feet was freshly spun wool, but still greasy and rough, it had to go through the process of ‘fulling.’ It was her responsibility for the morning to press down the wool with her feet into the fresh urine in the barrel.
Between her toes, the yellow liquid seeped, the wool squelching beneath her as the water turned cloudy and splashed up her calves. The smell was so foul that more than once, Idunn thought she would heave over the sides of the barrel, but she managed to restrain herself through her stubbornness alone.
