by Susan Wright
“It was me alone,” I whispered.
He grabbed my hair and lifted me from the floor. I screeched, but his big hand clasped over my mouth. “Not a sound or you will die before it leaves your throat. Now, answer me—who are you?”
“I’m a pleasure slave,” I gasped, twisting as I dangled. I grabbed hold of his wrist with both hands to lessen the pressure.
“Who owns you?”
“Vidaris,” I managed to say.
“A Viinland estate, no doubt.” Birgir shook me. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. “Did they help Silveta escape?”
“No one knows I’m here! I escaped our room while my master was gone.”
“Somehow I doubt that, little pawn. Silveta has laid her plans deep.” Yet he released me and I dropped back to the floor. For a moment, I had a giddy feeling that I might survive.
Then there was a snap of leather as he folded his wide belt in one meaty hand. “I think you lie to me, girl.” The belt landed on my hip with a searing blow.
I choked on my scream, jamming my fist into my mouth. I could never get used to being struck, even though Helanas made a habit of it with me, administering sharp, sudden blows during training drills or whenever she happened across me.
But this was even worse because it didn’t stop. Birgir seemed infected by an evil spirit. He hit me again and again as I curled into a ball to protect my face and stomach. I writhed with the effort of biting my tongue on my cries. But I remembered the geasa and I was silent, as he ordered, even though it was far worse than anything Helanas had done to me.
“Tell me the truth,” Birgir ordered. “Who helped you do this?”
“It was me,” I cried, “me alone!”
Birgir lashed out with the belt, striking my legs and sensitive feet. A strangled moan burst from my throat. “Lay still!” he ordered.
It seemed impossible, but I did it. I let him shove me around with his feet, positioning me where as he wanted. I thought only of Lexander as he pronounced his geasa. I couldn’t fail.
Pushed to my limit, I somehow found the will to surrender to his blows. The moments when I wasn’t struck almost felt good. I relaxed, accepting the sharp pain, which made me float above everything. I could hear him grunting with the effort as he moved around me. The belt as it landed reverberated deep into my ears and down into my bones.
When I was a limp, sweating rag, stinging in every part of my body and throbbing where he had bruised me, Birgir was still not through. He dragged me up by my hair and unbolted the door.
I could hardly feel the stones beneath my feet. There was the slickness of blood on my skin, but most of my attention was on my hair where he pulled unmercifully. The shock of cold as he took me outside served to jolt me into awareness. There were servants moving around the estate, preparing for the day-meal, transporting water, and tending to the animals. My head was twisted up to one side as I stumbled along next to him.
We entered the fire hall, where some of the guests were beginning to gather, fatigued from their long night’s festivities. Birgir threw me down in front of the chieftain’s dais. The table and chairs were empty.
Birgir put his hands on his hips and bellowed to the rafters, “I summon Ejegod Oddason for reckoning!”
I was left to lie on the dirty stone floor, the straw and worse sticking to my bare skin. It reeked of sour ale and rotting food. A few of the mangy curs that roamed the estate sniffed at my blood and growled, nipping at each other until Birgir kicked them away.
People were arriving, their feet shuffling and voices rising in speculation at the sight of me. It crushed me to be so exposed. I couldn’t hide myself or my pain. For a moment I thought that I might die of it.
When Chieftain Ejegod arrived, loudly berating the men who had pulled him from his warm bed, Birgir dragged me up. “On your knees, girl!” he hissed.
The chieftain settled into his chair of bound walrus tusks, cushioned by snowy lynx fur. His eyes were bleary and down-turned, with deep lines beside his fretful mouth. Silveta’s husband was an old drunkard, with the swelling belly of one who loses himself in strong wine. His noticeably stiffened fingers shook until he clasped them on his belt. I understood Silveta’s reluctance to trust to her husband to protect her. He was nothing like the great chieftain I had always imagined.
Yet Ejegod did radiate power, and his word was law. I had been called for judgment before him. He mumbled the traditional invocation of his sovereignty, then formally requested Birgir’s sworn fealty.
When Birgir Barfoot knelt before him, agreeing to obey Ejegod as his liege lord, the murmuring of the guests rose sharply. It was the first time Birgir had surrendered authority to his host.
Then Birgir stood and began his case against me. In my confused state, I thought he would accuse me of impersonating Silveta. I was resolved to conceal the reason for her departure.
But to my dismay, Birgir declared, “I awoke this dawning in the clutches of an evil spell! This slave was weaving a golden fog around me, attempting to unman me after a night’s dalliance. I felt this sorceress draw the breath from my mouth and heard the urging of demons for her to do their bidding. But no mortal, not even in the service of the Otherworld, could best me! I called on the mighty power of Kristna, the one true god, and was given strength to seize my tormentor by the hair.” He shook my head hard to emphasize his point, and I had to stifle a scream. “Then I cleaved the fog with my sword, releasing myself from her bondage.”
He finally let me go, and I fell forward. There were too many eyes on me, as more guests crowded in to see the sport.
The chieftain leaned over to stare down at me. “Did you cast a spell on this man, slave? Speak up for all to hear! For I will know the truth of what you say.”
“N-no . . . ,” I stammered uselessly.
“What say you? Or I will pass judgment on ye now.”
“No, Chieftain,” I managed. “Never would I do that. I am but a pleasure slave.”
“Someone here lies.” Ejegod pointed down at me. “My sworn man tells me you talk with otherworldly creatures. He speaks the truth, I think. Answer me!”
I hesitated, but I must not violate the geasa. “Yes, the olfs do speak to me.”
Ejegod’s rummy eyes narrowed. “Here, on my own land?”
I remembered the olf who had beckoned me to “come!” The creature had led me to save Silveta, of that I was sure. “Yes,” I acknowledged.
Ejegod sat back, satisfied. I glanced up at Birgir, who growled and kicked me. I cringed again, knowing even in my muddled state that I couldn’t speak the truth. Silveta had sworn me to secrecy under the geasa. She would not allow me to pit Birgir against her husband. I understood why—I could spark a feud that could rage for generations. Birgir was from the Auldland, where wars were constantly fought. I could not let him do that here. I could not tell Ejegod that I had saved his own wife from Birgir.
The chieftain waved one hand at Birgir. “I grant your claim against this slave. She will be exiled from Markland, from sea to strait, forever.”
I sagged to the floor, shattered to hear that I could never return home. But the straw rustled and a familiar scent wafted over me. Helanas strode forward, her voice ingratiating as she made her appeal. “Chieftain Ejegod, surely you must see this girl is daft! She is not a sorceress. She has no power. She is simply one who chatters to flowers and trees, as heedless as a child—”
“Silence!” Ejegod thundered. “Vidaris has offended my hospitality. Your house is henceforth cast out from this land. Leave here at once.”
Helanas was outraged. “Vidaris has served you well, Chieftain! Is this how we’re to be repaid?”
Ejegod gestured curtly to his bondi. “Escort them from my estate.”
I felt Lexander’s hands on my shoulders. In that moment, I knew I was safe. I would not die while he could protect me. I looked up into his face and whispered, “I obeyed . . .”
“I know,” he murmured. “Can you stand?”
“
Yes.” I managed to get to my feet, but my knees weakened beneath me. I would give anything to Lexander, but my body had been pushed too far.
He wrapped his cloak around me and lifted me, cradling me against his chest. Turning to Ejegod, Lexander responded with deference, “Vidaris will comply with your commands as always, Chieftain.”
When Helanas seemed ready to protest, Lexander quelled her with a look. I leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see the haughty gazes of the guests as Lexander marched through the hall and out the door. The rumble in his chest was soothing as he quietly told the other slaves to gather our belongings.
Even covered by Lexander’s cloak, I was shivering. The town was a blur of harsh noises and smoke, but I fell asleep in his comforting arms.
When we reached the harbor, the fresh sea air stirred me, reminding me of Jarnby. For a moment, I felt as if I were a young girl again, held by my da with hands that were always blackened by the forge. I wondered if my mam could see me now in her spinning, and what she thought of me.
I peeked from the shelter of the cloak at the bustle of activity on the shorefront. Arnaaluk, the giving god of the sea, had bequeathed two giant gray whales to the townsfolk of Tillfallvik and Ejegod’s guests. They lay on the sand beside small boats and nets that had been used to drive the pod in to shore. The proud hunters were slicing the flesh and packing it into barrels as women boiled the fat, rendering it into oil. Bags of grain were being offloaded from the longships moored around us, while fresh butchered whale meat and jars of oil were packed into the holds. I didn’t need to see our own empty hold to know why Helanas was seething mad at me.
Lexander stepped easily from the dock into the longship while still carrying me. But Helanas blocked his way. “Throw the worthless creature overboard to drown! That is sure to appease Ejegod.”
“You are shortsighted, as always,” Lexander countered, quietly enough for only the two of us to hear. “Ejegod does not care about this slave. He merely used her to seal his bond with Birgir. I’m sure Birgir would not have bargained away so much over our little Marja unless he had very good reason to.”
“Perhaps.” Helanas frowned at me. “I will get it out of her, if that is so.”
“Don’t interfere,” Lexander warned. “You’ve shown you’re unfit to play this game, Helanas.”
She gave a scornful laugh. “Don’t forget it was I who made sure Vidaris benefited from that old man’s marriage to a mere child! The slaves we’ve gotten from Hop in return for convincing Ejegod are our best stock.”
“You will go too far one day, Helanas. The chieftain has ears throughout Tillfallvik.”
“Stanbulin will be displeased about this,” she warned.
“Get out of my way,” Lexander ordered.
I shuddered at his cold indifference, as if nothing his consort said mattered to him. When I had first come to Vidaris, I thought that Helanas was the perfect mate for Lexander. But now I could see how viciously they clashed.
Lexander laid me on one of the benches as the oarsmen unfurled the yellow canopy to grant us shade. Helanas remained in the bow, giving shrill orders as the other slaves settled our gear into a corner of the hold. The paltry pile of crates taunted me, and I remembered Hallgerd had gloated about the goods our master received in Tillfallvik in return for Vidaris’ gifts, including the entertainment provided by the pleasure slaves.
The longship cast off from the dock and the oarsmen sliced into the waves. The rocking settled me, allowing the sea spirits to weave tendrils of comfort through my body. In the sea’s embrace, I knew the otherworldly creatures were satisfied by my service, though they had not lingered to tell me so. I little wondered why the olfs had fled in the face of Birgir’s rage—the creatures were repulsed by violent emotions. And I was glad that I had not denied knowledge of them to the chieftain. Never would I disavow them as long as I lived!
“I didn’t bespell Birgir, I swear,” I murmured as Lexander settled me in.
He sat down on the bench beside me, his face close to mine. “You must tell me everything that happened. Leave nothing out! It could mean everything for Vidaris.” His eyes crinkled at the corners and his expression softened. “No matter what you’ve done, you’ve already been punished enough, my brave girl.”
I laid my head on the velvet pillow, yielding to him. “I climbed the wall into the rafters so I could see the people passing through the longhouse.” He nodded, unsurprised. That meant one of the other slaves had already told him. I wondered if it had been Sverker. Just the thought of how he would torment me over my public shaming made me briefly close my eyes.
“Go on,” Lexander urged, his hand cupping my shoulder to comfort me.
“Then I heard the olf calling me.” I told him what had happened, leaving out no detail; how I had saved Silveta from Birgir, staying in her bed while she fled to get help from her father’s house. “The olfs placed me there to help her.”
Lexander nodded throughout. “Indeed, I understand. Did Birgir bed you?”
“Yes, last night, after using the key to enter Silveta’s closet. Birgir was enraged when he discovered this morning that I was not Silveta.”
“She knew she could trust no one here.” Lexander thoughtfully watched the oarsmen stroke us away from Tillfallvik before turning back to me. “I believe you obeyed my orders, Marja. And for your service to Silveta, you’ve gained Vidaris a valuable ally.”
His expression was full of pride and affection for me. I knew then that I had succeeded in following the geasa. The torment of fear and doubt, more oppressive than any physical pain, ebbed away.
Lexander smiled to see my relief. “You surely saved Ejegod from facing a duel, one he would have lost. It seems to me you have done a fine deed for your first time in society.”
My eyes shifted uneasily to Helanas. “But what about . . .”
“That is none of your concern. I can deal with our superiors.” His clipped words were chastisement enough.
I nodded as a drowsy feeling stole over me from the gentle motion of the waves. Now that I was safe and warm, I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and escape the pain.
After a moment, Lexander asked, “Did you cry?”
It took me a moment to remember. “No, I did not.”
“Did you beg for mercy?”
I shook my head. “Birgir ordered me not to speak, so I was silent. He told me not to move, so I was still.”
Lexander smoothed my hair from my forehead. “An ignorant bully. He didn’t even know what he had in his hands. A waste of all the good that is in you.”
It felt divine to be touched so sweetly. I closed my eyes and let myself slip away. The last thing I heard was Lexander murmuring, “Never fear, my wild child. I will make you cry exquisitely.”
Five
When I returned to Vidaris, the olf in the storeroom was gone. I knew that I had been used by the olfs for their own grander purpose. Yet as inscrutable as their ways were, I must confess, I thought only of what my master had promised.
My skin was a mass of bruises and welts, with cuts where the hard edge of the belt had dug into me. I was allowed to remain in my snug pallet for a few days before rejoining my fellow slaves in training. Helanas was just as cruel to me as ever, perhaps more so. The other slaves picked up on her disdain and avoided me. But there was no punishment for my actions that had resulted in the banishment of Vidaris from Markland.
After I had recovered enough to resume my duties, I was fetching water from the cistern in the kitchen yard when I overhead Hallgerd tell the cook, “And here’s another visit canceled! If it goes on this way, they’ll not be invited to any of the great estates this summer. You know what that will mean—we’ll be eating only what Vidaris can grow.”
“No more coco?” the young scullery maid cried.
“No, so you won’t be licking the pot, as you like!” There was the sound of a spoon smacking against her buttocks. “And none of those nice orange melons or
cinnamon or that good date wine, neither.”
My foot was on the stoop, but I couldn’t move. The full water buckets balanced at my sides from the shoulder pole as birds flitted overhead in the sunlight. Usually my heart would have been filled with the beauty of the day, but their words made it all clear. I had seen the resentment from the other slaves and servants. They blamed me for the dis honor to Vidaris, but I didn’t realize that hardship would come because of me. I felt a burning shame spread throughout my body.
I stepped inside the kitchen. Hallgerd harrumphed and closed her mouth. They knew from my blush that I had overheard.
“I did only as I was ordered,” I declared, facing them all. “Would you have me defy our master and bring ruin on us all?”
Hallgerd put her hands on her hips. “That’s not the tale I heard, missy. You’ve disgraced us with your otherworldly ways! Don’t deny it to me, for I have ears to hear you speaking to the tricky beasties that live in the walls.”
Out of respect to the olfs, I would not defend my love of them to anyone. “If you would have disobeyed our master, say it now. I did only as I was ordered and he is satisfied with me.”
Hallgerd raised her hands in disbelief, and even the scullery maid frowned, angry no doubt about the sweets she would miss. None of them believed me, and why should they when Birgir’s claim went unchallenged?
So I said nothing more. I walked through the gauntlet, knowing that I didn’t deserve their condemnation. Yet as soon as I entered the scullery to pour the water in the cistern, they began complaining of me again. I let the splashing cover their words, grateful that my duty allowed me to ignore them. My forehead rested on my hand as I poured, knowing this was only the beginning.
I waited for a moon for Lexander to fulfill his promise, but my master rarely touched me. At first I thought that he was giving me time to heal. He administered the oils and unguents that soothed my skin after every bath. There was a new look in his eyes as he gazed at me, appraising and curious, as if I was not at all what he had expected me to be. It made me feel warm inside, and I eagerly wished he would pursue his budding interest in me.
