Lotti swallowed and slowly nodded. There was such fear contorting her features that Magnus wanted to yell with fury at it.
Instead, he gently lifted Zarabeth onto her side. There was but one welt that had snaked around her back and made a narrow red mark just below her breasts. He drew another deep breath and eased her back onto her stomach.
Eldrid came into the chamber. Behind her was a slave carrying a rushlight. She fastened it into the holder on the wall.
Magnus began washing Zarabeth’s back. He didn’t look at his aunt, merely said, “Tell me what happened.”
“I am too old for this nonsense, nephew,” Eldrid said. “I am teaching the little girl, just as you asked of me, but the sister, ’tis too much, Magnus. Ingunn hates her and wants her gone from here—that, or dead. What could I do? The child tried to help her sister, and Ingunn turned on her. What could I do?”
Magnus said nothing. He was washing the welts on her back. “Have you one of your herb remedies? She will have pain, and I would stop it if I could.”
Eldrid shook her head. “Juice of the elderberry would do her good, but there isn’t any. Only in the fall, perhaps in October. The woman is young, she will bear her pain as so many do, without your liking or disliking it.”
He hated Eldrid in that moment, but he had no choice but to keep her here. She and Helgi, his mother, could not bear each other, so Eldrid had come to live with him some five years before. She had birthed no living sons to see to her well-being. She was sour and hard, except with children. Yet she had not protected Lotti. Ah, perhaps she had tried, but she was an old woman, depending on Ingunn as well as on him. And Ingunn had seemed as a berserker going into battle. He drew a deep breath and lightly patted a welt that had drawn blood just above her hips. He cursed then, soft and long, and looked up to see Lotti staring at him.
“Zarabeth,” Lotti said, and lightly laid one small hand on her sister’s shoulder.
Magnus said slowly, “She will be all right, Lotti. I promise you.”
Zarabeth stirred some minutes later. She was lying on her stomach, and surely that was odd. In the next instant she realized that her back was on fire. Pain swamped her, and she hissed out her breath. She felt his hand on her arm, heard his voice next to her face. “Hold still. I can do nothing for your pain, I am sorry. Just hold still and breathe slowly and deeply.”
And she did, for she really had no choice. She didn’t open her eyes, but said, “Lotti. Is she all right? Ingunn was going to hit her, and I couldn’t . . . couldn’t stop her, I couldn’t make my body move to stop her.”
“I stopped Ingunn. Lotti is fine. She is sleeping now, next to you.”
“Thank you.”
“You won’t be scarred.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him. “I wanted to kill your sister, but I couldn’t reach her. I saw her raise that whip on Lotti and I heard her laugh, and then . . .” She shuddered with the memory of it, and Magnus, feeling furious and helpless and hating both feelings, said, “Try to sleep now.”
“I’m very hungry. That is what started it all. I was so very hungry, and I simply wanted to eat some porridge.”
“I will fetch you something.” He left her lying there on her stomach, her face washed of color, even her vivid red hair seeming faded and dimmed, hanging damp and tangled beside her face.
He walked to the cooking counter of smooth wooden planks that held wooden plates, knives, spoons, and trays. He was aware of the painful silence in the longhouse. His men were staring at him, as were the women. Only the children seemed unaffected, and he heard them taunting each other, laughing, challenging. He heard Egill yelling for a wager with another boy.
Ingunn was behind him, saying quickly, her voice low and furious, “Do not believe her, Magnus. She lies, I know it. She disobeyed me, refused to work. What was I to do? She thinks that since she is your whore, she need do nothing save watch the rest of us work. Believe not her tales, Magnus! You already know her for a liar, a murderess.”
He turned slowly, a bowl in his hand. “Please put some venison stew in the bowl, Ingunn.”
Ingunn drew back. “For her? For that slut? I would rather stick a knife in her black heart.”
“Do as I tell you.”
“No, damn you, I won’t!”
“Then you will no longer be welcome in my house. I am master here, and I will be obeyed in all things.”
He hated using that kind of threat, but he saw no other way. Ingunn took the bowl from him and turned stiffly away. He watched her, thinking that he had never before witnessed such unfairness in her, such viciousness, then quickly rearranged his memory. Oh, yes, he had seen her drawn into jealousy before, and her fury had been uncontrolled. It had been over an arm bracelet another young girl had refused to give her. She was jealous of Zarabeth, and, fool that he was, he had taken all Zarabeth’s weapons. He had made her a slave. He had placed her at Ingunn’s mercy.
His sister returned with the bowl and handed it to him, saying nothing now.
He said very quietly, his eyes never leaving her face, “If you touch her again, I will take the whip to you and let you taste it on your back. If you ever put your hands on Lotti again, I will take the whip to you with even greater force. Do you understand me?”
“By Thor’s hammer, she lied! I did nothing to her that she did not deserve. Just ask Cyra! She saw everything the slut did, ask her!”
“Do you understand me?”
“Why do you care? Did you not bed her? How many men had her before you? She bragged on how many men she’d had in York and how all she had to do to you was smile. Why do you still care?”
“Do you understand me?”
She realized in that moment that she no longer knew this man who stood in front of her, this man who didn’t care about the truth or about her feelings, this man who was obviously against her now, who hated and scorned her, all because of that slave he’d brought to Malek to take her place. Nay, she no longer recognized this man who had been her defender when she’d been a little girl. He was now a stranger to her. She felt fury and defeat, and it took all her resolve to hold to her control. She said, “Aye, I understand.”
“Good. Never forget, Ingunn, for I shan’t.” He left her then, aware that every man and woman in the hall was watching them and wondering. He had no intention of saying anything at all. He was appalled at his sister’s loss of control, at the ferocity in her.
He fed Zarabeth until she was too weak to chew more. When she finally fell asleep, he picked Lotti up and took her into the children’s chamber. He laid her down, smoothing the soft ginger-colored hair from her forehead.
“Sleep well,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I will take care of your sister, I promise you.”
Lotti smiled and closed her eyes. Magnus looked up to see his son sitting up on the far side of the bed. The boy looked infinitely miserable. Magnus walked to him and drew him onto his lap, even though he wasn’t a child any longer. He spoke softly, so as not to awaken the other children. “Do not blame Lotti, Egill. She is only a little girl and she loves her sister. Would you not have tried to protect me had someone threatened me? From what I see, she is also fond of you. Do not hurt her, and do not treat her like your aunt Ingunn does.”
The boy nodded. Magnus had no idea if his words would go to his son’s heart. He hoped so.
When he returned to Zarabeth, she was asleep. He laid a soft white cloth over her back, gently eased her clothing off her, and got into bed next to her. He did not sleep for a very long time.
He fed her the next morning, bathed her back, and told her not to move. Zarabeth said nothing. She was stiff and her back ached, the muscles pulling and twisting, the flesh hot and blistering.
Magnus turned in the doorway, studying her pale face. “Do not worry about Lotti. Eldrid is looking after her.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice dull.
She slept fitfully the rest of the morning. She could hear the activity clea
rly from the outer hall. She could hear Ingunn’s voice, and she felt herself tensing with fury. She slept again, then awoke to a voice saying, “I see you are awake.”
She felt fear despite herself. “Aye, I am awake, at least now I am.”
“Do you intend to remain lying about for the rest of the day?”
Very slowly Zarabeth raised herself on her elbow. “You hurt me, Ingunn. My back pains me.”
“Ha, I barely touched you, lying bitch! You carry on to impress Magnus, but he has guessed what you are about. Even though he has rutted you, he isn’t stupid. His senses are returned now. You betrayed him before, lied to him, and now he knows what you really are. He has left, but were he still here, he would not protect you.”
Zarabeth felt the blood pounding through her as her anger built, anger and fear that Ingunn had spoken the truth. “I did not betray him!”
“Keep to your lies, I care not. But you will cease your laziness and rise. There is much to be done and I cannot do it all. You take, yet return nothing. That is not the way of the Vikings, and you are but a worthless slave.”
Zarabeth forced herself to sit up. She realized she was naked and pulled the woolen blanket to her chin.
Ingunn looked at her long and hard, the ungoverned hatred she felt toward this woman growing so that now it nearly choked her.
“Know the truth, slut. Magnus does not know what to do with you. He doesn’t want you now, for he has had you and known not the pleasure he receives from Cyra, but you pretend to such pain that he cannot turn you out now. He wants to sell you, he told me but hours ago, but you are here crying and whining, so what can he do? I could tell him that all this is naught but an act, a sham, but I do not want to hurt him. You did quite enough of that, did you not? So now he has a worthless hag sleeping in his bed and gets nothing from her save what her skinny body offers to him. Just look at you—you are a witch, a bedraggled slut!”
The words pounded through her and Zarabeth wanted to shake her head to clear them away, she wanted to scream at Ingunn that it wasn’t true, that she was lying, that Magnus didn’t want to sell her, that . . .
“I will rise in a few minutes. Please leave, Ingunn, I must dress.”
“And you wish to work now? Magnus will not allow me to whip you until you are well again. But he has left because he no longer wishes to see you. It pains him still, your betrayal of him. Do you tell me that you are willing to do what I bid you to do, without whining to Magnus?”
“Aye, I am willing.” Aye, she thought then, she was also a fool, for she had let Ingunn weave her into a web of her own spinning with great ease. Her back throbbed and her head ached, but she refused to be a useless weight. She could not, she would not. Slowly she rose. At least her belly was full. Slowly she managed to pull open the lid of Magnus’ chest. Her gowns lay there, where he had told her to put them. Slowly she pulled an old gown over her head, one that was frayed and too short for her now. Slowly she forced herself to walk into the hall.
Magnus steered his single-man boat cross-current to the northeastern side of the viksfjord. The water was calm, the air cool, the sun bright overhead, but he didn’t particularly notice the beauty of the day. He was worried and he was angry, for once again he felt out of control of himself, a condition he should be getting used to, a condition that had begun when he had returned for Zarabeth.
When he reached his parents’ farmstead, he waved to the guards, keeping his distance until he was recognized. This farmstead was twice the size of Malek, for there were at least one hundred people living and working here. The wheat and rye fields were bounded by high rock borders.
The farmstead village wasn’t encircled with a wooden palisade, but rather came to the shoreline itself. There was a wall only at the rear of the farmstead, nearly against the line of pine trees so thick that it would take a very stealthy enemy to gain any surprise advantage.
He strode inside the huge longhouse and felt familiar memories flood him. He smelled the same smells as had the young boy, saw his mother’s loom in its place where it had been as far back as he could remember. There was his mother, Helgi, in the middle of a score of chattering women and children, and she was smiling at him, coming quickly toward him, soon hugging him until his ribs ached, for she was strong as a man.
She was still smiling until she looked up at his beloved face. She touched her fingers to his cheek. “What is wrong, Magnus? Ah, no, you needn’t answer that. It is the woman, isn’t it? What has happened?”
Magnus laughed, a raw, ugly sound. “Is my face so open for all to see, then?”
“Only to a mother’s sharp eye. Come and sit down.” She called for mead, then followed her son to one of the long wooden benches.
He noticed a faint line of perspiration on her broad forehead. The hall was hot, overly so, and he frowned. “Come outside, Mother. You grow overheated in here.”
Helgi smiled and nodded.
Outside, he took her arm and led her toward the shore. “Father is hunting?”
“Aye, the men must hunt enough for the winter. How go your stores?”
“I hunted with my men all day yesterday.”
“I see.”
He drew a deep breath. “Ingunn must be wedded. She cannot remain at Malek.”
Helgi remained silent in her surprise.
He looked at his mother, and felt her love flow through him. Unquestioned love, he thought. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could ever say, that would change that. He gave it up without a whimper and told her what had happened.
“. . . Zarabeth is now lying on my bed, on her belly, her back raw from Ingunn’s whip. My house is a battlefield. Ingunn must go. She has changed, somehow. But perhaps you have already seen some of it. She loses control; she speaks rashly, without restraint. You must bring her here until Father finds a husband for her, since he has dismissed Orm’s claim.”
Helgi looked clearly at her son and nodded slowly. “Aye, I have seen it, but she is your sister. Why have Ingunn leave Malek? She is your sister, after all, and has seen to your household for five years now. Why not bring Zarabeth here? She will be a slave here for me. I will even buy her from you so that she would never be your responsibility again. That would bring you peace again, would it not?”
He stiffened and Helgi smiled into the distance, knowing this would be his reaction. “Very well, Magnus, you want the woman with you. You love her. Despite all she has done, you love her.”
He said slowly, his brow furrowed, “I truly do not know if she poisoned her husband, Olav. I would have sworn that she could not have done it. There is a gentleness about her, you see, a caring that would make such a deed alien to her nature.” He shrugged. “But Olav’s son and his wife . . . they swore and swore, and there were others as well.”
“Possibly paid by the son. Did he not gain all the dead father’s wealth once Zarabeth was removed?”
“Aye, ’tis true. The son, Keith, is weak, and his wife is a bitch. But I do not care now, not really. Even that man in Hedeby, the one she tried to entice into helping her escape, he—”
“What?”
He repeated himself. His mother looked thoughtful.
“I cannot imagine wanting to escape a known entity with one that is entirely unknown. You said the man was a coward and ran when he realized you were her master?”
He nodded.
“Then why would she want to entice him? Zarabeth is a fool? She did not realize he was a coward?”
“She is not a fool.”
“Good. It seems to me, Magnus, that the man blamed her so you wouldn’t kill him.” Helgi smiled up at her son. “You will keep the woman with you. I will speak to your father this very evening about Ingunn. ’Tis a pity about Orm, but your father reviles him now and holds him in distrust. He would never consent to his having Ingunn.”
“I had heard that he was set upon by outlaws.”
“Nay, ’twas he who killed another man, a freeman, a man of worth. He wanted the man’s silve
r and he took it. There is no doubt. If Orm’s family were not so powerful, there would be retribution, but alas, there will not be any.”
“Why not? Cannot the man’s family bring it to light at the next meeting of the thing? Were there sufficient proof, the least the family could have would be danegeld for a man’s life.” He laughed then, a bitter laugh. “I paid much for Olav’s life, I can tell you. ’Twas nearly as much as I was prepared to pay for Zarabeth’s brideprice.”
He heard his mother draw in her breath and cursed his loose tongue, but it had always been so with his mother. He spoke freely with her and the habit was too strong to break just because he was beset.
“You knew I had planned to marry her, for Horkel told you, curse his eyes. But she refused me. I returned to take her and found that she was about to be killed for murdering Olav, her old husband.”
“I wish to speak with the woman. May I, Magnus?”
He gave her a look that was so wary that she hugged him to her again. “You really cannot continue like this, you know. Ingunn is jealous of her and will continue to be. Mayhap she would truly harm her. I would not trust her.”
“She is a slave! There is no reason for Ingunn to hate her.”
Helgi, ignoring his words, repeated what she had said: “Mayhap Ingunn would truly harm her. I would not trust her.”
“I threatened Ingunn if she dared touch Zarabeth or Lotti again.”
Helgi smiled at his simplicity. “Your life will continue in unpleasantness until you have resolved everything. Ingunn will not ease her hatred of the woman. I will speak to you again after your father has come to a decision. Take care, Magnus, and strive to be fair.”
He nodded and took his leave. An hour later he had returned to his own farmstead. He entered the longhouse and immediately made his way back to his chamber.
The small room was empty. He felt his belly twist, turned around, and bellowed, “Ingunn! Where is she?”
His sister was smiling and it was a smile that chilled him to his bones. By Thor, he should have taken her with him back to his mother. “Where is she, Ingunn?”
She shrugged. “Why, she insisted on performing the tasks of a slave. I did not touch her. I did not force her or threaten her, ask anyone.”
Season of the Sun Page 19
