Fire and Ice

by Christer, J. E.

  They said goodbye to Sara who followed them outside whispering that she would look after Erik and try to calm him down. She handed a pouch to Hilde and they returned silently to the Hall.

  As they entered the yard at the back of the Hall they were horrified to find more Normans milling around shouting to the servants to stable their horses and feed them. Hilde’s face was white with apprehension so Juliana looked around for someone in authority. One man who appeared taller than average with wide shoulders and wearing a fine-linked hauberk, was sitting astride his large war horse deep in conversation with a blond-haired man who had not yet dismounted. The blond man saw the two women approaching and nodded to the first, who turned and watched them thoughtfully.

  As the women approached he slid down from the saddle with practiced ease and bowed politely.

  “Good afternoon, mother, my lady.” His English was good but deferred to Hilde in the Norse manner.

  They curtsied and waited for him to speak again, not daring to say a word in case Sir Richard’s men reported back to him. He looked around the yard seeming satisfied that his orders had been carried out as far as stabling and his men were concerned then looked back to the women. He was a good head and shoulders bigger than the hateful de Gant and had an air of authority which charmed rather than threatened, but he was still a Norman Juliana reminded herself.

  “I am Ulfric, knight of King William and have been endowed with this Hall and lands by the King himself.”

  His statement surprised them since de Gant had claimed the Hall and town as his own, but they didn’t refute it. Hilde seemed unwilling to respond so Juliana answered for her, “My mother is the lady of this Hall, her name is Hilde and I’m her daughter, Juliana.”

  “I am honoured to meet you,” he turned and bowed to her mother again who looked at him suspiciously, but he laughed and indicated the blond man who had now dismounted. “This is Thorvald, we are as close as brothers can be without actually being of the same blood. He watches my back at all times.” He looked closely at them as he said this and they were left in no doubt that he knew they had no love for the Normans. “Now, where is your father, I understand he is a reasonable man and we have much to discuss.”

  Whether it was the shock of hearing him speak of her father, or whether the frustrations of the day were just too much, she didn’t know, but her temper rose as she spat, “I’ll show you my lord knight where my father is!” She tried to drag him by the arm to the church wall but he was immovable so she pointed to the oak tree. “My father is dead, Sir Knight, he lies there speared by a Norman sword when provoked beyond reason. Do not sully his name by speaking of him with your Norman tongue!”

  Ulfric looked at Thorvald who shrugged his shoulders, then returned his gaze to them, “I wasn’t aware of this. Sir Richard de Gant was sent here to take possession of the town for me until I could get the Title sealed by the King. There was no reason for anyone’s death – there’s been enough.”

  “Well, someone should have told him that. His men came looking for trouble and did not leave until my father was dead. Sir Richard rode in afterwards to claim the town as his.”

  A growl exploded from Ulfric’s throat which made them step back in alarm but he spoke quickly and quietly to Thorvald. By the time he turned back to them he had composed himself and strode purposefully into the Hall. The servants had been busy cleaning away the remaining detritus of de Gant’s men and had swept the floors, strewing fresh rushes and removing the dogs for exercise. Ulfric looked around and nodded seeming satisfied that all was as it should be. Sitting at the table he called for ale and food to be provided for the newcomers and Hilde went to help the servants, she seemed afraid to be in his presence for too long.

  Juliana was about to follow her when Ulfric called, “Juliana, come here. Sit by me and tell me about your town.”

  She turned towards him and could see from his raised eyebrows and mocking grin that he was testing whether she would be obedient or defiant. She went to him and sat in the place he indicated trying to keep calm and to get the measure of this man. He was totally different from de Gant and she knew she would have to use all her wits to win his trust, before she killed him.

  Chapter 3

  Hilde came with the servants to bring their food but Ulfric demanded that she sit in her own chair and join them to take their meal. She looked at Juliana hesitantly after the rough handling of de Gant, not wanting to trust any man again, but Juliana nodded to her to obey. She seemed to regain some confidence and looked better than she had since the Normans had come, eventually answering Ulfric’s questions with an easy manner. She explained that her family were Danes from Jorvik or York as it was becoming known. She had married Juliana’s father in an effort to join the Saxon and Danish community. That part of Lindsey was part of the Dane geld and there had been peace in the land until the coming of the Normans. They drank wine with their meal which calmed her still and Juliana was pleased to note some colour returning to her cheeks.

  Suddenly, the door burst open and de Gant stood red-faced in the doorway sending daggers of hatred with his eyes towards Ulfric.

  “What’s the meaning of this, Ulfric? Since when did I give you leave to enter my Hall and make use of my servants?”

  Ulfric rose to his feet and Thorvald moved to the side of the room where he could watch if de Gant drew any weapons which posed a threat to his friend.

  “Sir Richard,” Ulfric began amiably, “please, come and join us here at the table. You know as well as I that the Title of Bertone was given to me by the King himself.”

  “I know nothing of this. My father told me he would speak to the King and this manor would be mine.”

  “Your father did speak to the King, but unfortunately for you I already held the title. It would have made little difference anyway, news of your conduct on the field of battle reached William’s ears and you were lucky to escape his wrath. Take heed, Richard, this town, this Hall, and everyone in it is mine. Now, come and sup with us if you must, if not go settle your men and horses.”

  De Gant’s eyes were looking hungrily in Juliana’s direction but she pretended not to understand what they were talking about. Ulfric had used only French so far except when speaking with Sir Richard so she continued to play ignorant. De Gant moved to the table and grabbed a goblet of wine and downed it in one gulp, spilling some down his tunic. Thorvald returned to his original place and began to eat again but Hilde was ashen-faced at the return of this would-be lord and could not be cajoled into eating anything else, so made her excuses and went to her bedchamber. De Gant threw himself into her seat and finished off her food and called for more.

  Juliana too had lost her appetite and decided she would go and see to her mother but Ulfric held her arm to keep her by his side. His grip was firm but she must have looked surprised because when she turned her head she was met by blue-grey eyes warning her silently to stay where she was. De Gant had seen the exchange and laughed out loud.

  “You’ve met your match with that one, Ulfric. She’ll slide a blade between your ribs at the first chance she gets.”

  Without thinking Juliana began to answer him in French, berating him for the vulgar swine he was, threatening to slit his throat first. As soon as she had finished her tirade she realised her mistake and sat silently with her head bowed.

  “So, young Juliana, the Norman language is no stranger to you after all. You are full of surprises,” Ulfric said, laughing at de Gant’s astonishment.

  She made no answer but silently cursed herself for her temper and stupidity, feeling that she had lost a superior weapon.

  She lifted her eyes and straightened her back determined not to let them see how foolish she felt, but Sir Richard leaned forward hissing, “I made you a promise before I left, my lady, and tonight I will keep that promise!”

  “And what promise was that, Sir Richard?” Ulfric asked in a matter-of-fact way.

  Sir Richard smiled slyly, “That she would warm my bed, of cou
rse.”

  Juliana, much to her horror, started trembling, which made de Gant laugh even more at her discomfort.

  Ulfric leaned forward and spoke slowly but with menace, “Now listen to me, de Gant, I have told you that this town and everyone in it are mine including this girl and her mother. You will stay away from both of them during your stay here or else. Do you understand me?” He hesitated and added, “You are welcome to choose any of the servants but you will show honour to the lady Juliana and her mother.”

  De Gant said nothing but flung his food back into his trencher and rose to his feet. Thorvald slid his hand to the hilt of his sword but Ulfric remained seated. Juliana wanted nothing more than to run to her chamber and bar the door but Ulfric’s hand still held her fast.

  “I said - do you understand me, Sir Richard?” he repeated.

  The other man looked from Juliana to Ulfric and back again but still made no response. Eventually he sat back down and attacked his food again, nodding his consent to Ulfric. This was as much as he was giving but for now it was enough.

  Ulfric looked Juliana in the eye and read her turmoil. He stood with her and offered his arm to escort her from the table which she took with gratitude. It would seem he had some chivalry in his bones but that did not excuse the death of her brother or her father so she hardened her heart against him once more. Ulfric took no notice of her accusatory expression and walked her up to her room where she made to enter but was surprised when he refused to let her go.

  “I think you should accept my lordship here, Juliana, before you come to harm and I don’t trust de Gant any more than you do so from now on you’ll share my room.”

  Her anger was barely concealed and she could feel her eyes sparking with the fire she felt within.

  “I think not, Sir.” she said indignantly. “I will not play the whore for you or any other man, so please let go of my arm.”

  He pushed past her into her chamber and pulled her in roughly behind him, closing the door with a bang pushing her back against it. His strength was more than she could fight and his jaw was set with determination, but she too could be just as determined.

  “You will do as I say, Juliana! Where’s your mother’s chamber?”

  “Why?” she cried, wondering what his intentions were towards her mother.

  “Just tell me, girl. I want to speak with her. Don’t forget I allow you to keep your position in this household because it suits me, and your father by all accounts was a good man, so I think I owe it to him, but don’t cross me too often, Juliana. Be warned.”

  He was leaning over her as he spoke and she could feel his heart racing through his tunic as he fought not to lose control of his temper. She relaxed in his arms and nodded acquiescently, so he released his grip and she turned to move out of the room and he followed her. Further down the corridor she tapped on her mother’s door and called to ask her to open it, which, after a few seconds she did. Her surprise at seeing Ulfric standing beside her daughter showed in her startled expression but she moved back to allow them to enter.

  Ulfric looked around the chamber which Hilde and her husband had shared. It was larger than Juliana’s and held a bigger bed covered in animal furs. This was the bed where Juliana and her brother had been born, and she dearly hoped it would not be the one in which she died.

  “My lady,” Ulfric directed his words to Hilde who still looked bewildered at the intrusion. “If this is the lord’s chamber then I would ask you to take your belongings and move them into your daughter’s chamber.”

  Juliana must have looked relieved at his words but he soon put paid to that. “Your daughter will move in here with me for her own protection.”

  “No, my lord, Ulfric! Please don’t do this,” she pleaded, seeing her mother’s colour drain from her face.

  “My mind is made up, Juliana. You can stay willingly or not, but you will stay.”

  Her mother said nothing but began to pick up some of her belongings, silently warning her not to raise this man’s anger again, so Juliana started to help her gather her gowns and within half an hour they had exchanged sleeping quarters. Eventually, she closed the door to her new lord’s chamber and waited for the inevitable. He began to undress so she diverted her eyes. She turned her back so that she could see outside across the countryside towards the river and was glad that the nights were getting lighter now, so avoiding any intimacies which might occur by candlelight. She heard rather than saw him bar the door and then climb into the big bed behind her but still he said nothing. After a few minutes she dared turn around and saw that he was facing away from her and had his eyes shut. She crept towards the bed and noticed a pile of pelts on the floor beside it. She sighed with relief and was just about to remove her outer garments when he opened one eye and gave her that mocking smile which she wished sincerely she could knock off his face just once.

  “Come Juliana, the nights are still chilly and you need your sleep. I’ve had a tiring day so get into your bed and stop prowling around.”

  Before he could change his mind she moved away from his gaze and began to undress to her linen shift. His clothes had been folded carefully and she did the same with hers and placed them into the chest at the foot of the bed. In record time she was between the pelts and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would overtake them both and he would not change his mind during the night.

  She awoke late the next morning to a tapping on the door. Her mother peeped her head inside, “Child? Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

  “No mother, as you see I slept on the floor. He didn’t touch me.” They were both incredulous but she pushed a skin pouch into Juliana’s hands, which she recognised to be the one Sara had given her.

  “What’s this?” she asked, peering into its depths.

  “It’s a sleeping draught. Keep it hidden until you need it. My lord Ulfric looks like a man who usually gets his way and if you think you’re in danger sprinkle some into his wine or ale. You’ll be sure he won’t bother you then.”

  They both laughed at her cunning and she hid the pouch in the chest containing her gowns.

  “Where is Ulfric this morning? He must have been up early?”

  “He has taken his men and horses to higher ground to practice their drill. He even woke de Gant and I could hear him complaining bitterly, but he had to go too.”

  At the mention of de Gant she thought of the previous night, “Did he take one of the servants to his bed?”

  “Yes, but I managed to sprinkle some of the herbs into his ale and he slept peacefully enough, but not before he had given Alice a black eye for her resistance.”

  “I hate that man, mother. The sooner these Normans are dead the better.”

  Her mother pursed her lips and nodded but advised caution, “Be careful, daughter. They will only send more to fill their place, and I would not see you nailed to the door of this Hall for killing these men.”

  Chapter 4

  The next few days passed in an uneasy manner and Juliana was continually dodging de Gant when he came into the Hall. She could feel his brooding eyes watching her as she moved around and checking to see if Ulfric was nearby, because although she disliked both men, at least Ulfric had shown some honour in his dealings with her and her mother. Usually, Ulfric was in deep conversation with Thorvald and didn’t appear to be watching her or de Gant but his presence gave her some sense of security. Strangely, she found herself warming to her new lord, watching him from half-closed eyelids as he strode around the Hall giving orders to his men and the servants. His frame was muscular and pleasing to the eye, his hair was light brown, wavy and shoulder length and had he been any other man than a Norman, she might have been pleased with his attentions.

  Early one morning her mother told her that the men had gone out to exercise their horses and practice their warfare again so she put her cloak over her fine, woollen, emerald green dress and made her way to the beck where she hoped to wash her hair in the clear water. The leaves on the trees were new and
green and she revelled in the silence after the noise and smells of the Hall. Looking around to make sure no one was watching she removed her sandals and outer garments leaving only her linen shift, and cautiously dipped a toe into the water. It was still cold from the winter ice but she sorely needed to wash so she took a deep breath and walked further into the water which caused her to breathe deeply as it reached her waist. She had brought some wildflower scented soap which Sara made from her own bushes and it felt good to be outside again and free from constant scrutiny.

  She had just finished soaping her hair when she heard a twig snap and the rustle of leaves. She went further out into the beck in case some creature was stalking her, wolves had been known to use this place to slake their thirst, and dipped her head under the water to rinse off the soap but was surprised when she felt herself being dragged further under. She began to kick and struggle and fought her way to the surface only for Erik to surface with her who grinned stupidly as if she should be pleased to see him.

  “Erik! What do you think you’re doing? I thought you were a wolf come to make breakfast of me.”

  He laughed and grabbed her, pulling her towards him and planting a kiss full on her mouth. She tried to push him away but he was too strong and his arms held her fast. She was pleased to note he was fully dressed but his garments were as saturated as hers. Eventually her struggles and kicks began to tell on him and he released her so that she could swim away from him.

  “Why do you struggle so, Juliana? Do you struggle against my lord Ulfric when you warm his bed at night?” he sneered. “Sara has told me of your current sleeping arrangements. First de Gant and now this Ulfric – have you no shame?”

  This was a totally different Erik to the young man she had known before he went to battle. The old Erik would never have spoken to her in that way. She swam to the bank and pulled herself out knowing that her linen shift would hide nothing from his gaze but she would rather face him out of the water than in it. She put her cloak on to cover her wet body and turned in a heat of fury to give vent to her anger but caught sight of someone leaving the woods and held her tongue.