by Desconhecido
He turned back to Eireann. “Do you think it could aid this little one?”
She nodded. “I think so. It’s active already, just set it on her. It certainly can’t hurt.”
He set the amulet on the tiny girl’s distended belly. The glow increased and settled into the girl. Her breath came easier and her sleep deepened. He wrapped her back up with it tight to her belly.
“Here, take your daughter back. Keep that with her,” he ordered the mother with a firm but gentle voice.
Chloe took her daughter back into her shaking arms. Tears flowed down her face. She looked at him in gratitude. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper through her damaged throat.
Eirik smiled and stood. He stretched and then sprawled back onto the sand where he’d been while eating. A wineskin made its way around.
Fridgeir pulled Eireann down beside him to share some.
She relaxed. The cleaning up would have to wait. She listened quietly as conversation turned to lighter banter. Some discussed the recent battle as if discussing a dice game, leaving her wondering about them. One moment they were just as violent and bloodthirsty as their reputation said, the next full of concern over an infant not one of their own. Then back to discussing death and savagery with enthusiasm and great detail, as if discussing some epic from long ago. The description of the raiders’ deaths chilled her, but not as much as what Eirik had done to the chief. She’d always thought those stories of lungs ripped out were just wild tales meant to frighten. Not something real men did.
“Fridgeir, your wild one seems a bit pensive tonight. Maybe she needs a sound night’s sleep,” Arinbjorn teased with a sly and lecherous wink.
“Or less sleep,” Giermund quipped. “Bet she’s tired of sitting after being chained to a post for days. Why don’t you take her for a walk?” He winked and grinned.
Fridgeir chuckled. “I’ve had all the walking I need today!”
“Well, if you’re too tired, I wouldn't mind,” Giermund joked as he slowly sucked in a piece of cheese, licking his lips in a seductive fashion. The others laughed
Fridgeir shook his head. “You want some sport, go find one of those forest slaves. I am not that tired! Besides, she does most of the work.” He winked at her.
She snorted. “Work? Oh, yes, it’s definitely work with you just laying there moaning! Demon spawn.” She shot back. The group roared with laughter, including Fridgeir who reached over to stroke her head.
“It’s not my fault she’s truly gifted and requires little encouragement.” He cocked his head at her and smiled mischievously.
Eireann produced her own evil grin. “You think that’s gifted? No wonder your kind are always stealing women! Your own haven’t a clue.”
More laughter. “Gods, woman, you’d best not let any Northwomen hear you. They’ll claw the pretty right off your face,” Leif warned her.
She shrugged. “They can try.” She ran her tongue across her teeth and they laughed again.
Talk turned to the possibility of another battle with a larger, better armed force. It surprised her none of them seemed terribly concerned. Other men drew closer to add their opinions or ideas. Some just listened. None suggested they cut their losses and run. No few seemed eager for a chance at glory and greater booty as well.
Fridgeir kept her close to his side where he could stroke her arm or brush light as a feather across her head. He leaned back behind and slightly around her, not quite touching. She felt a little trapped but refused to react to it. She forced herself to relax and breathe so she could get used to him so close. Before the raiders, it wouldn’t have bothered her at all. She felt even more determined to get over all the fear they’d filled her with.
* * * *
Well past dark, Fridgeir finally sent her to finish cleaning up the dirty dishes. She didn’t see either of the other women around so she started washing them alone. Sounds of men and women in bed reached her. She snorted. Wouldn’t touch the young ones but couldn’t wait to get at these others! Randy man-whores! Arms reached around her middle and she jerked away, whirling around ready to strike whoever threatened her. Fridgeir stood there with a guilty grin.
“Sorry, shouldn’t have surprised you like that,” he apologized.
She nodded and let out the breath she’d been holding. A louder cry reached her and her blood froze. It didn’t sound like the woman was enjoying it.
A strong voice called into the dark. “Bed her don’t beat her! Oden’s beard, man, she can’t have any fight left in her!”
Fridgeir sighed. “Floki—couldn’t deny him, but...” He shook his head. “I don’t think he’ll be with Eirik long. He doesn’t tolerate men who enjoy hurting women.”
She turned back to finish the cleaning. “Fridgeir,” she said softly, not looking at him.
He set a hand on her shoulder oh, so gently. “Yes?”
“Thank you for…for being gentle.” She found her voice a bit shaky but he’d earned it and more. He’d risked his life to hold to their bargain. Now it was her turn. She set the palm of her hand against his cheek. He leaned into it and closed his eyes with a sigh.
Much to his obvious surprise, she suggested, “There’s a place closer to the water, over at the base of the cliff. It would be more private and no one can sneak up on us from the woods. I saw it from the ship while we waited for you.”
He smiled and stroked the side of her face. “That would be nice. Hopefully there’s some soft sand. But not tonight, wild one. Truthfully, I could use some sleep. Didn’t get much last night and it’s been a long day.” He set his hand lightly on her arm and urged her toward where they had been sleeping. He laid on his side and she rested in the curl of his body. It had taken some effort to make herself get that close.
“Eirik wants all the women to stay on the Fire from now on,” he murmured. “Safer and faster if we need to leave in a hurry.”
She studied his face. He wanted something but wouldn’t ask. All the women? That meant her and Saibh. She nodded but said nothing, wondering what he wanted. Pleasing him meant safety for her sister so she needed to figure it out.
“You should join your sister on the Fire tonight. It’s safer,” he offered softly.
Again she got the feeling he wanted something, hoped for something. “Fridgeir, I’ll stay if you want. If Eirik will let me. You could use a woman to warm your back and I can cook for you.” She saw a sparkle in his eye. Ah ha! That’s it. He wanted me to offer even though he could just order it. She shrugged. “And I haven’t finished washing out all of the bloody clothes.” No point letting him think I actually want him!
“We might have to move in a hurry.” He sat up. “Or we could find ourselves in the middle of a fight with little warning. You could be at risk. Eirik will likely order the Fire off the beach for safety if it comes to that. We might have to swim to her.”
She shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve been in harm’s way. And I can swim, rather well in fact.” She sighed. “I really hate sitting around doing nothing!”
He smiled and gently traced along her jaw with his fingertips. “I already asked and Eirik agreed.” He grinned wickedly. “Now, lay down, I’m beat.” She shook her head with some amusement and laid down on her side. He rolled against her. Her breath froze. Part of her knew he meant her no harm but another part still feared having a man holding her.
Fridgeir sighed and rolled over. “I expect you’ll keep my back warm.”
“Fridgeir, could Saibh sleep with us, just tonight?” she asked hesitantly.
He rolled to sitting and looked over to where Eirik had settled. A brief nod and Fridgeir rose. “Stay here, I’ll get her.”
Eireann smiled with satisfaction into the darkness. Like most men. Give them something before you ask. Works all the time!
She didn’t notice the man at the edge of the woods watching them instead of the woods. Just as she drifted off she realized they hadn’t chained her. Now would be the perfect time to escape, if she still wanted to. Bu
t the woods aren’t safe. Best to stay with the savages I know.
* * * *
Eirik lay as if sleeping for a while. Waiting to see if Fridgeir’s prize would keep her word or try to run. He listened to her breath ease into sleep and smiled to himself. Men took turns watching her sleep, just in case.
Chapter 9
Day 4, morning
The day dawned foggy again, but much colder and wetter. Saibh shivered, and without thinking Eireann pulled the cloak over them more. She pulled Saibh closer. Then it hit her. Fridgeir wasn’t pressed against her back. In fact, he must have wrapped the cloak over them after he rose since they’d been sleeping on it. She looked around and found him near the fire ring, dumping a load of wood for the growing fire. Saibh stirred into waking and sat up, rubbing her eyes. She shivered again. Eireann urged her to get off the cloak and then wrapped it tightly around her. Eireann got up and headed to the fire ring.
“Damp this morning, likely rain later,” she offered as she warmed her hands near the flames. Fridgeir nodded but had just filled his mouth with trail bread. He passed the loaf for her to tear off a chunk. She passed it on when she had. She stood as close to him as felt comfortable to her. He smiled at her and finished his bread, adding a hunk of cheese to it.
Eirik watched the sea with Cedric and the old sea dog who sailed the Dragon’s Fire.
“Not looking good out there today, Eirik.” Cedric sounded concerned.
The old dog squinted at the horizon. “Rain, maybe hard by midday.”
Eirik looked thoughtful. “Hmm, could mean we’ve got another day before we need to worry about company. Get out the tents and shelters.” He sighed. “I’d wanted the slaves on the Fire but if it’s going to rain good, that’s a wet place to be.”
Cedric snorted. “Those pitiful things haven’t got enough meat on them to stay warm. Wish we had wool clothes for the women—it’d help.”
Leif joined them. “We’ve got extra cloaks and furs. We set up a shelter around the fire and keep them close to it. At least the pregnant one and that poor mother.”
Eirik nodded. “Good thought. I still want the watches manned. Kind of weather I’d use to sneak up on a camp.”
The others nodded agreement and set about making it happen.
Eireann helped pass out woolen cloaks dyed in forest colors of muted greens, browns and russets to the forest slaves. Try as she might, she couldn’t tell which woman had cried out last night. None would look at her or speak unless asked a direct question. She sent the two down to the stream to finish washing the men’s bloody clothes. Leocadia and Chloe stayed close to the fire, exactly where they’d been told to sit. Eireann watched the baby nursing with greater vigor this morning. Maybe the amulet had helped, but she still needed a better fed mother. Saibh stayed close to the older women while keeping a wary eye on the men moving about.
Eireann looked for Eirik. He stood not too far from the fire ring, supervising as Cedric gave instructions on setting up shelters. She hadn’t realized they carried canvas tents, but some appeared along with hide shelters that were little more than roof and a wall. Those they set up to shield the fire and hold its warmth, creating a three-sided enclosure with a slanted roof to let the smoke out. Three tents went up in a modified form using the wind shelters for one wall. Now they could hold as many as fifteen men—more if they got friendly enough. A quick glance at their ship showed the sail being used to shield a good deal of it from the rain. It didn’t cover it completely, so Dragon’s Fire would still need to be bailed out, but at least the supplies and loot wouldn’t get soaked.
“Your Highness,” Eireann started, with a quick bow.
Eirik turned in surprise. “Someone told you, huh?”
She nodded with only a quick glance up.
He snorted with amusement, “For now, call me Eirik. And I get the feeling…you want something?”
Her lips twitched into a slight smile. “Chloe needs to eat as much as she can, but she’s been so long without much. I worry it could cause problems, make her sick if we just feed her all the stew she can eat.”
Eirik nodded. “And you have a suggestion?”
“I could make a thick broth just for her. Put some herbs in it if I can find them. Specifically some to help her gain weight and produce more milk.”
Eirik looked impressed. “You know herb craft?”
She glanced around carefully. “Yes but I…uh, don’t banter it about.”
Eirik chuckled. “Let me guess. Been accused of making potions?”
“No—not yet, anyway. But I’ve known women who have been.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from edging her words. “We can’t do anything without some superstitious lout thinking we’re going to curse them! I think it’s just an excuse to force themselves on innocent women!”
Eirik shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. Fridgeir!” Eirik waved him over. “Your slave has hidden skills in herb craft. She wants to find some to help Chloe and the baby. She can go a short ways into the woods with you and one other, armed and alert.”
Fridgeir smiled at her, obviously proud of his new prize.
Cedric laughed and slapped him on the back. “She’s going to end up costing you, my friend. A slave with skills…”
Fridgeir shrugged but still looked pleased. “Let me get my axe. Arinbjorn, care to take a walk in the woods?”
* * * *
She wasn’t able to find exactly what she wanted close to camp, but found a few things that would help. And some that would just taste good added to their very bland stew.
“Fridgeir, what’s so special about me having skills?” she asked as she dug for the root she wanted.
Arinbjorn bit back a laugh that came out more as a snort. Fridgeir drew a breath before replying. “Means I get less coin for my share because you’re worth more than a slave without any. Although with your temper, it kind of balances out.”
She glanced slyly at him. “Want me to be a little feistier?”
He and Arinbjorn laughed. “Wild one, your greatest talent is being feisty! And no, I don’t mind paying a fair amount for you. It’ll be worth it for those strong sons you'll give me!”
She shot him a dirty look, then went back to digging.
When she returned she found a second, smaller pot ready to hang over the fire. Dried meat and peas sat in wooden containers next to it.
“Fridgeir, any chance of getting some fresh meat? Or even better, fresh long bones. The marrow’s rich and easy to digest.” She looked up hopefully.
Someone groaned. “Now she wants us to go hunting? Gods, Fridgeir, you’ve picked a demanding one!”
He smiled with some amusement. “Doubtful we could find large game, but maybe some smaller animals. Would that work?”
She shrugged slightly. “Better than dried salted meat.” She watched with some amazement as her request was passed through the company. The lookouts would now watch for more than just trouble. She started soaking the peas in a little water in the small pot while she sorted and prepared the herbs. Saibh helped her while the others watched.
The two women who’d been washing clothes returned. Eireann had no idea what to do with the wet things. Cedric sent them to be spread out on the ship under the sail. They wouldn’t dry fast but at least they wouldn’t get any wetter.
* * * *
Fridgeir couldn’t help feel a bit of pride at how the other women looked to his Eireann for leadership. And how well she handled it. But he also knew, being a slave would be that much harder for her once they got to Dragon’s Head. He sighed to himself. Women of the Wild Isles always had a hard time adjusting to the life of a slave but they produced strong warriors for the hall.
Chapter 10
Day 4, midday
By midday, it started to rain lightly. A group of men returned from their watches with several squirrels, three hares and a brace of quail. The new women joined together in gutting and skinning them. Eireann readied the small pot for making a broth.
Leo
cadia set aside the little livers and kidneys. “I think we should add these to that broth of yours. The larger ones we could roast on small sticks. Take the hair off and we could boil the whole heads too. Makes a really rich broth.”
Eireann smiled at her. “Good idea! And we could break the bigger leg bones from the hares, add them so the marrow cooks out.”
The man who’d seemed most interested in Chloe and her baby took the skewers of livers and carefully roasted them. Leocadia tried to hide her disappointment but Eireann caught it. She gave her a nudge and sly wink. Sure enough, as soon as they were done, he offered them to one very surprised Chloe. He gently took her infant girl while she ate.
“Is it permitted to ask your name?” Eireann tried to sound submissive, and failed.
He smiled. “I’m Jargeir. It won’t get you beaten to ask but…” He shrugged.
Like most of the others, he was tall and lean-muscled but obviously a few years younger than Fridgeir. Early twenties, close to my age. Straw blond hair and slightly darker beard, with those northern demon blue eyes smiling openly back at her. He carried a sword, spear and throwing axe of good quality, but not fancy like Fridgeir’s. He wore a wool tunic of ruddy brown and wool pants dyed a shade darker.
Leif joined them with a friendly slap on Jargeir’s back. “Careful, some might think you’re putting a claim in,” he teased, “and she’s a bit young for that!” He carefully peeked at the little girl’s sleeping face.
Jargeir retorted playfully. “They grow up. I’ll only be in my late thirties when she’s old enough.”
Chloe’s eyes widened with fear but she didn’t say anything. Her hands shook slightly.
Jargeir smiled and reassured her. “Not to worry, Mother. I’m only teasing. No one will take your daughter from you. I've just got a soft spot for tiny babies. What’s her name?”
Chloe stared at the ground in sudden concern rather than answering.
“The painted men would beat us for naming our children or even using our old names,” Leocadia stated without turning from stirring the stew. “Only people have names. And if you aren’t one of them, you aren’t people.”
