by Fiona Faris
He dropped the sword, burying the tip in a hay bale nearby as he reached for the letter in his pocket. It was a reply from the trading merchant on the continent. The merchant had revealed the Jarl’s name, recommending that if Tadhg wanted to discuss trade, he should get in touch with the Jarl’s son, Einarr.
Now I have the name of her betrothed.
He had received the letter days ago and send another to Einarr. He was expecting a reply at any moment on one of the incoming ships, but their correspondence had not been about trade. Tadhg had discussed something else altogether.
Tadhg pocketed the letter again and picked up the sword, delivering one last swipe to the bales in anger. He had to make a plan of how to reply to Einarr when the new letter arrived. Something that would take Idunn from Gavin forever and give him a little taste of the injustice he was so used to facing.
Tadhg was following Idunn from a distance. He had watched from across the castle grounds as she and Gavin retreated to the top of the tower. Her appearance below with the laundry had taken him by surprise, but when Gavin did not follow, choosing instead to head to the keep, Tadhg followed her.
He tried to keep some space between them. When he reached the path, he dived into the covering of the wood, hiding behind trees as she meandered down the river. She went further down than usual. It meant he could watch her in private.
He stood by one of the trees closest to her as she stopped by the riverbank—his gaze on her body and thinking of what she and Gavin had done that very morning.
Idunn’s feet had taken her further down the river than before, just as Annas had once suggested to her. Hidden from view by the copse, the water was clear and beautiful, perfectly clean and inviting. She washed the clothes with vigor, eager to be back up at the castle and finish her duties for the day. As she finished, she dawdled, her gaze cast back to the clear water - remembering how Annas would bathe in this area.
Idunn looked around the copse again, but no one was nearby. Seeing the perfect opportunity, she stripped off her clothes and laid them beside the freshly washed tunics before stepping into the shallow depths of the water. Diving forward, she dropped her head and body completely under the water. She bathed for many minutes, enjoying the cold lap of the river against her bare skin. It was so cold that for a minute, she could have been back swimming in the fjords.
There was a snap of a twig nearby. It urged her to stand, lowering her feet to the ground with her chin just above the water. She flicked her gaze around the copse, searching for the source of the sound, but there was nothing. It took a minute for her to relax again, her body too trained from swimming in the fjords to know that wolves could be around the nearest trees. Not in Scotland, though. She forced herself to ignore the sound and returned to her bathing.
She loosened her hair from her braid and washed it clean, drawing the strands through the shallow depths. When refreshed, she hurried out of the water, laughing under her breath at the indulgence. It was breaking the rules to bathe at such a time, but the joy of simply bathing was too much fun to ignore.
Threading her hair back into a braid, she sat on a small mound of grass, hoping the sun would dry her skin before she put on her kirtle again. She reminded herself to thank Annas for her advice.
The coldness with which she had treated so many of the staff came back to haunt her. It placed her at a distance from them, but her new friendship with Annas showed that it was possible to change things. The thought that perhaps some of the servants feared her crossed her mind. Their behavior suddenly made sense - the way some chambermaids would cower behind corners certainly endorsed the idea.
Perhaps Gavin is right, after all, she thought, laughing to herself as she laid back in the grass, absorbing the warm rays of the sun. With a little change, she could make friends. Maybe they would not be so scared of her after that.
Another twig broke. She leaned up on her elbows, her gaze darting between the pine trees. She could see no one, but a shadow moved between the branches. Feeling nervous about being caught breaking the rules, she moved to her knees and reached for her kirtle to dress again.
A scrambling of feet against twigs called her attention. She pressed the kirtle to her body to hide as she flicked her head around to see someone walking out from the trees towards her.
It was Tadhg.
Stunned, she fell motionless on her knees as Tadhg strode towards her with purpose. Idunn struggled for what to say, of all the ways she could apologize for taking such liberties to bathe. Yet, each phrase died before she could build the confidence to speak. He bent down and took hold of her elbow. She expected him to pull her to her feet, but he did not. Instead, he used it to push her down to the ground.
“What –” Before she could speak, he pushed himself completely on top of her. The tunic was torn from her hand and flung to one side. “Tadhg!” she bellowed his name, her body freezing in surprise. He held both wrists in one hand, forced them to the ground beside her, and moved a knee between her legs.
Idunn realized what he was after. It was not punishment for bathing.
He wants to force me.
“No!” She brought up her other knee, striking him between the legs. He fell forward on top of her, crying out at the pain, as one of his hands went to cover the area.
She would not let such a man force her to give her body to him. She tore both hands from his grasp, wincing at the scratches he made to her skin as she pulled free. She elbowed his nose, and he clutched at his face in pain, rolling backward onto his side and away from her body.
Idunn scrambled to her knees, trying to move away and clamber to her feet, with fear raging through her body. Before she had gone two steps, Tadhg’s hand was on her ankle. The firm grip yanked her backward, forcing her forward onto the ground. Her face collided with the earth, bruising her cheek. Before she could rally herself to fight back, he was on top of her again, pinning her down. He straddled her waist, preventing her from moving away from him.
“Stay down, slave.” he ordered, pressing her down against the riverbank. He muttered something disgusting in her ear, about what he wanted to force her to do. She heard him fidgeting with his clothes. Fear shot through her again, as though a bolt of lightning in a storm.
She would not be taken so lightly.
He was stronger than her, but he did not have her fighting knowledge. She buried her hands into the ground, then used the force of her whole body to drive him upwards – it upset his balance, knocking him away. Jumping to her feet, she stepped on his knee, preventing him from moving, and struck his face again. The second blow to his nose sent him flailing back to the ground as blood started pouring from his face.
He cried in pain and clutched his nose, allowing her to reach for the kirtle and throw it over her head. Without time to tie the belt, she grabbed it in her hand and took up the basket of clean washing before sprinting through the copse and away.
She looked back almost every other step, trying to see if he followed her, but he did not. Beyond the snapping of twigs beneath her bare feet, there was no sound around her. As she reached the path, she ran as fast as she could up to the castle, still reeling in shock.
He tried to force me…
When Idunn reached the castle, she hurried to the laundry storeroom. She burst through the door, and the frame clattered shut behind her. Leaning on the wood, she looked into the room to see Annas and Besseta frozen in their work, all gazes upon her.
“Ye well, lass?” Besseta asked, her strong accent lilting with alarm.
Idunn could not reply. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. She looked down, noting how her hands were trembling as they clutched the basket.
“Well, somethin’ has happened.” Annas dried her hands and walked towards her. She tried to take the basket from her grasp, but for a moment, Idunn clung to it, not knowing what else to do. “It is all right now, Idunn. Come on. Release the basket.”
Idunn released it. Annas took it away and planted it
down on a bench nearby. She returned to Idunn a moment later and took her arm, walking her through the laundry room to sit on the bench with Besseta and a few other laundry maids.
“Will ye tell me what is wrong, lass?” To Annas’ words, she could only shake her head. It would be admitting aloud that she had transgressed, and what would the other maids say? If she spread tales of Tadhg, the Laird’s son, it could come back to harm her. She had also broken the rules of her servitude and bathed in the water. Some of the staff could accuse her of lying, their loyalty naturally to the Laird’s son over a Viking slave. Others could blame her for harlotting herself to him.
“Aye, so be it,” Besseta nodded, and picked up another bowl of lye from the bench beside her, “Here ye go then, lass. If ye cannae speak of it, the best way to deal with a problem is to distract yerself from it.” Idunn looked up to her as she took the bowl, seeing the woman’s eyes wide with sincerity. “We’ll cheer ye up.”
Annas patted her on the shoulder and sat beside her.
“Besseta, tell her the tale of the old Ness monster.”
“Oh, now there is a good one, listen to this…” As Besseta launched into her tale, Idunn tried to remove the tension from her body. As the minutes passed, so did her nerves. She fell into conversation with Annas and Besseta. Remembering what she had thought of on the riverbank before Tadhg’s assault, she attempted to be more friendly to the other maids too. They responded in kind, sharing jests with her and urging her to raise her spirits.
As they finished their work, Annas patted her on the shoulder once more, offering silent support, though she did not ask her again what troubled her. Idunn was tempted for a moment, but she bit her lip, knowing she could not tell anyone.
I cannot even tell Gavin.
Chapter Twenty-One
Gavin could not stop his smile as he stared around at the feast. No expense had been spared. The great hall was lit with hundreds of tallow candles, bordered with great torches that cast light up to the cavernous, beamed ceiling. The floor was dominated by long tables, including a raised platform for the Laird’s family. Gavin could already see his father at the table, drinking with his friends to celebrate as the tinkle of pipe music filled the air.
Gavin felt a soft touch to his back and flicked his head around in time to see Idunn walk past him. She offered him a secret smile as she moved on, carrying jugs of ale to pass around. His eyes followed her, drifting down to her figure.
For the occasion, one of the other servants must have lent Idunn a finer dress than she normally wore. It was a long tunic gown, pale blue in color, cinched at the waist with a dark blue belt. The color complemented her eyes, and the tight fit meant Gavin found it hard to tear his eyes away from her.
“Good tidings, me friend.” A slap to the back stirred Gavin from his wandering thoughts. He looked to find his old friend Findlay beside him, drinking from a tankard of ale.
“Thank ye,” Gavin nodded, as Findlay passed him his own drink.
“It seems ye have the whole castle and the whole village here to celebrate.” He gestured to the hall with a sweep of his arm. The place was overwhelmed with people, all busy celebrating and laughing.
“Aye, all the people that matter to me are here.” Gavin looked to the top table. His father was there, Kenna, Tadhg, and of course, Idunn was in the hall too. His eyes darted to find her again. She was milling through the crowds, handing out the jugs of ale. She had styled her hair differently. It was still in a braid, but this time the plait had been bundled to the back of her head, creating an illusion of beautiful knots.
“Then tell me, friend. Why does yer smile waver?” Findlay had his arm around Gavin’s shoulder - watching him closely. Gavin immediately returned the smile to his face. He could not reveal to Findlay what he thought. The only way to make the evening better would be to have Idunn sat at his side during the feast, eating as his equal, not as his slave.
“Ah, it doesnae matter,” Gavin shrugged the subject away. His eyes darted around the room once more, desperately searching for another topic of conversation to distract Findlay.
Tadhg was walking with purpose near them. His eyes were cast down to the floor, and his face was stern as he spoke to someone at his side.
“Tadhg!” Gavin called towards him, seeing the perfect opportunity to discuss something new. As Tadhg looked up, Gavin beckoned him nearer.
Gavin felt a twinge of admiration as he watched how Tadhg spoke to the gentleman. He knew that his brother possessed a skill of charm that he could never quite master. Tadhg could easily make the gentlemen and ladies of the court hang on his every word. He looked up to him for such a talent, though he had never told him as much.
“Many happy returns of the day, brother.” Tadhg shook his hand warmly, though his smile did not seem to light up his features. Gavin took note of the change in Tadhg’s manner, watching him so carefully that it drew his gaze to a mark upon Tadhg’s face.
“Thank ye. Tadhg – what happened to yer face?” Gavin pointed towards his brother’s nose.
“It looks like ye have been struck. Have ye takin’ a man’s blow to yer nose?” Findlay tilted his head the better to examine the mark. It was a strong purple bruise that stretched across the bridge of Tadhg’s nose and the top of his lip. There was a scab of blood, too, as though he had been bleeding.
“Nay, nothin’ of the sort,” Tadhg laughed off the matter, waving it away as if it were nothing. Gavin saw the familiar signs of Tadhg’s charm at work. Still, he had seen it enough times to be able to tell that his brother was slightly uncomfortable with the conversation.
“Then what happened?” Gavin pushed the matter, determined to have an answer.
“Ah, well, this is sure to entertain ye. I was assistin’ the Marshall in the stables earlier today.” The words came quickly from his mouth as he smiled through the story. “One of the horses decided he didnae like me presence. In me effort to get away, I walked into one of the stable doors.” Findlay guffawed at the idea, thoroughly entertained by it. Gavin was certainly tempted to laugh but was not convinced by Tadhg’s telling of the tale.
“Are ye well, though? Nay pain, I trust?” Gavin continued to pursue the matter. Tadhg shifted on his feet, slightly uncomfortable at the question.
“Nay pain that bothers me.”
“Poor horse, ye must have startled the creature.” Findlay was still laughing as he swigged from his tankard. Tadhg looked over his shoulder, back towards the center of the room where the revels were taking place.
“I daenae think I startled her enough into makin’ her behave.”
Gavin attempted to follow his eye line, but uncertain where his brother was looking, he found his own eyes drawn to Idunn again. She was talking with some of the other maids, laughing about something, the smile lighting up her bold features.
“Anyway, the feast will begin soon.” Gavin stepped towards the table. “Come on, brother. We must join our faither.”
“I will join ye shortly.” Tadhg stepped away again, gesturing towards the door behind him. “There is somethin’ I must do first.” Before Gavin could reply and attempt to persuade him to stay, Tadhg hurried from the room.
Findlay looked back to Gavin with a small shake of his head.
“Did that seem strange to ye? Or was it just me?”
“I daenae.” Gavin sipped from his tankard, uncertain what to think. “Perhaps he is hidin’ the truth of what happened to his nose.”
“Ye think he is embarrassed?”
“Aye, it is possible.”
“Then, I have a theory.” Findlay moved to his side as they walked together towards the top table. “Perhaps he actually received the blow from a young maiden he was tryin’ to woo.”
“It would account for his embarrassment,” Gavin winced at the idea.
“Poor maiden, he must have upset her indeed to deliver so hearty a bruise. Speakin’ of which,” Findlay stepped away from Gavin and looked across the tables. “I should find a maiden meself
to enjoy the company of this evenin’.”
“Behave, Findlay,” Gavin warned with a firm gesture of his hand, “Ye are nae to bother me staff.”
“Worry nae, me friend. I will only bother those who like me company as much as I love theirs,” Findlay winked as he walked away. “Ye should find yer own company to enjoy. It is yer celebration after all!”
Gavin’s eyes flicked from Findlay to Idunn, who was walking past again. She had heard the last words Findlay had spoken and offered him a subtle wink. Gavin watched her go with longing, yearning to pull her with him towards the top table.
He brushed off his desire for her and turned his gaze to his faither. Fergus was thoroughly entertained by some soldiers, his head tilted back in guffawing laughter, yet Kenna was not at her place beside him.
