by Jen Black
No one bothered her, so she had ample time to observe how deeply Flane drank, and how much he laughed and flirted with the young women. She glanced now and then at Katla, sitting with her parents at the far end of the hall and saw how annoyed the girl was with Flane’s behaviour. At one point she got up and would have left her privileged position at her father’s side to go and join Flane, but Skuli Grey Cloak took a firm grip of her arm and pointed at the stool she had just vacated. For a long moment father and daughter glared at each other, but eventually Katla sank back into her place.
Amused by the incident, Emer looked back at Flane. Wood flamed high on the hearth and firelight flickered on the ring of gold in his ear and emphasised the many shades of yellow in his hair. With nothing better to do, she thought of butter, primroses and honey and found each shade among the long strands. He had shaved at some point in the day, and the curve of his hollow cheeks, deep-set eyes and lean face held her attention.
In return, he seemed to ignore her. As he laughed, talked with the young men and downed a horn of ale, he seemed relaxed; but every now and then, almost as if he felt her eyes on him, his head lifted and for a brief moment he looked directly at Emer. Then he frowned, irritation clear in his face.
At the end of the evening, Emer curled up on the very edge of Flane’s bed space, as near to the hall door as she could get. She had no clear idea of what might happen when he retired, or indeed if he intended to retire at all, but it seemed wise to have a clear line of escape should that become necessary. She yearned for a good night’s sleep, and thought regretfully of her small fragrant bed in Pabaigh where she slept the moment her head touched the herb pillow and woke only when her mother shook her shoulder.
In a small, vicious gesture of defiance she yanked a corner of his blanket over her cold feet and turned her back on the hall.
She awoke with a jerk when Flane arrived, and lay rigid with every sense alert as he crept stealthily onto his sleeping space. The straw and heather mattress rustled beneath him, but the wooden platform did not bend or squeak beneath his weight. Emer resisted the huge urge to open her eyes and see what he was doing.
There was a long silence. The mattress rustled again and she sensed him hovering over her, felt his breath warm on her cheek. Her heart raced in her chest. What—? Was he going to—? Air moved against her skin, and the blanket tickled as it shifted over her. He would take it for himself, she thought crossly, and leave her to freeze. A moment later the entire blanket settled gently over her. Astounded, Emer waited, but the blanket stayed where he had put it, and there was no further movement.
Emer opened her eyes just enough to ascertain he had settled down.
He sighed heavily. Slowly the tension left her limbs, but sleep eluded her as she pondered the reasons for his disquiet and unease. He had hardly spoken to her today. The change in their relationship must have something to do with Katla. Emer did not know what he thought of Katla, but she could not imagine him accepting Katla’s complaints very well at all. It was much more likely that they’d argued.
Emer wondered what that might mean for her. Would she be allowed to stay? Or would Katla demand that he got rid of her? If she did, what would he do with her?
***
When Emer woke next morning, Flane had vanished. She looked round for Oli. At least he would speak to her. Sure enough, he caught her glance, skipped across and agreed to her plan to walk out of the settlement and explore the countryside. She needed to know the land if she was to have any hope of escape, but did not think of confiding her need to Oli. He was far too young to share her burdens.
“I’ll get some bread from Inga,’ he said, excited at the prospect of a day out of the steading. ‘She’s in the kitchen today, and she’s nice.”
He made his dog wait outside. “Grendel can’t come in because he steals food.”
Emer followed him to the kitchen area behind the hall. With a yelp of surprise and delight she recognised the women she’d met in the bathing hut, working away at making bread, plucking game birds or gutting fish.
The cooking fires made the room hot, but they were all red cheeked, cheerful and greeted her with smiles. Inga bustled over to greet her. “Why, you’ve set the cat among the pigeons, my dear! Such an uproar! Katla’s never been so put out in all her life!”
“Why? What have I done?”
“As if you didn’t know! Why, it’s that young devil Flane—he brought you back and Katla’s so jealous of you she won’t speak to him until he sends you away.”
Emer’s heart lurched. No wonder he’d grunted at her yesterday. A tongue lashing from Katla would make anyone grumpy. “I noticed no one seemed prepared to speak to me if she was anywhere near. What will happen, do you think?”
Inga and the others, who were all listening, laughed. “That’s what we’d like to know!” Inga said cheerfully. “But I’ll tell you one thing. That young Flane is not one to take kindly to being told what to do.”
Emer bent and kissed Inga’s rosy cheek. “I’m so pleased I’ve found you all. I wondered where you had disappeared to.” She looked around to include them all. “May I sneak in here and talk to you sometimes?”
“But of course! Katla never sets foot in here. She wouldn’t want to get her hands greasy. You keep out of her way for a few days and it’ll all blow over. Let Flane sort it out. Now, young man,” Inga beamed down at Oli. “What can I do for you?”
He grinned. “We want to go and explore,” he said. “So we’d like some bread, please. Then we needn’t come back till evening.”
Oli led her to the river tumbling down through wooded banks, and across the large stepping stones set firmly in the rushing brown water. They walked steadily through a valley into the hills behind the steading where Emer found pleasure in the fresh air and the fragrance of green things growing all around her; it was also a release of tension after the stares and strange atmosphere of the hall.
When Oli led her to a sunny hollow where a smaller stream slowed and pooled on a sandy bottom, they stopped to rest. Emer and Oli started on the bread and soft white cheese Inga had given them while Grendel sat with strings of drool hanging from his muzzle until Oli fed him a chunk of bread.
They drank the peaty brown water from cupped hands. Tiny fish darted under golden brown stones at the first sign of their shadows, and Oli’s attempts to catch one ended in failure. Emer giggled at his frustration, and realised it was the first time in days she’d even managed to smile. Grendel stretched out beside her in the sun, his spine warm against her hip while she leaned back on her hands and watched the boy chase minnows.
“Oli, how long has Flane been with Skuli Grey Cloak? Do you know?”
Intent on trawling cupped hands through the golden brown water, Oli did not look up. “He came when he was my age.”
“Did his parents know Skuli? Is that why they came?”
“He’s like me,” Oli said in matter of fact tones, watching his quarry dart through the water. “His father and Skuli were friends. When Flane’s parents died, Skuli brought him back here.”
“Ah.” Emer remembered the sleepwalking incident when Flane had known what to do for Oli. She’d suspected there was something Flane hadn’t told her, and now she knew what it was. He’d been orphaned young, too. She recalled his odd comment on the longship as they left Dublin, when he’d spoken kindly of Skuli’s wife, Gudrun. She had probably been kind to him when he missed his mother. It was odd to think of such a big man missing his mother, but he would have been no bigger than Oli at the time.
“Does Skuli think of Flane as his son?”
“Well, he hasn’t got any others. He’s only got Katla.”
“Not even any, um…”
Oli flashed a quick, cheeky grin in her direction. “You mean bastards?”
Emer repressed a smile. “Illegitimate sons, Oli. Bastard is a very rude word for a small boy.”
“I know, but I’m not all that small. Flane thinks I’m nearly eleven.” He shrugged. “
It’s a word Gamel uses a lot, so I found out what it meant. I asked Skeggi.”
“Who is Gamel?”
Oli gave up on the fish, straightened and waded across the stream. “One of the warrior band. He smells.” He threw himself down on the grass beside her. “I don’t like him.”
She remembered her first night in the hall, and how Flane had chased one man away from her. “Is he married?”
Oli sniggered. “No one will have him.”
“Oh.” Emer wasn’t surprised, but decided she shouldn’t discuss such things with a child. “Is Skeggi the one with lots of dark curls? He’s nice.”
Oli nodded. “He’s Flane’s friend. Flane’s nice, too. I want to be like Flane when I grow up.”
“I think I’d like to be a man when I grow up.”
Oli stared at her, wide-eyed. “But you’re a girl! And you are grown up!”
“I know. Disappointing, isn’t it?” She laughed. “But men have so much independence. That’s what I want. Women are always being told what to do and I hate it!”
“Well, you’d have to go to war, and kill people with a sword. And skin a deer and dig out the midden and get caught in storms when you’re out at sea…”
Emer thumped her fist on the grass. “Well, if you can do all that, I can, too!”
“Bet you can’t!
“Can!”
The day passed in cheerful banter. They dammed the stream, walked on up the valley and watched grazing deer lift their heads and trot elegantly away at their approach. Grendel almost caught a wood pigeon but came trotting back with only a feather hanging from his jaw. When they turned for home in the late afternoon, Emer was still curious about Flane. “What happened to Flane’s parents, Oli?”
“I think they died of a fever. Some kind of sweating sickness.”
“He didn’t have any brothers or sisters?”
“Don’t think so. He never mentions anyone like that.”
“If Skuli Grey Cloak wants Flane to lead the band after him, I see why he wants Flane to marry Katla. I also know why he doesn’t approve of me,” she finished slowly, suddenly seeing it clearly from the chieftain’s point of view. “He’s afraid I’ll upset all his plans.”
Oli glanced sideways at her. “How could you do that?”
Emer shrugged. “Oh, if Flane should grow to like me more than Katla. That would spoil his plans, wouldn’t it?”
“You mean Flane might marry you instead? Oh, I’d like that!”
Emer did not say anything, and Oli turned puzzled eyes to her sombre face. “You do like Flane, don’t you?”
“I think so, but I don’t really know him very well.”
“That’s why you’re asking all these questions! You want to know all about him, don’t you?”
“No, of course not. Look, can we get home if we go this way?” She pointed to a small trail winding through the bracken and heather across the hillside. “Is it a deer trail or a path?”
Oli frowned. “We can if you want, but it is steeper that way. The big forest begins on the other side of the hill, and once you’re in there you can’t see anything much. You might walk into a wolf. It’s easier walking if we go the way we came.”
“The easy way it is, then. We don’t have wolves on our island.” The thought of wolves made her glance nervously around the surrounding trees. “Oh, look.” Their small trail joined another path, and ahead of them four men carried a deer slung on a pole between them. “They’ve been hunting. Now they’ll be walking back into the settlement, so we won’t have to worry about wolves if we stay close to them.”
“Slow down, Emer. It’s Gamel, and we don’t want to run into him.”
“He won’t hurt us.” Gamel on his own would be worth avoiding, but in a group he could hardly do them harm. “Not when the other men are with us.”
Oli looked doubtful, but Emer, used to the friendly families of her island, increased her pace and hurried after the group who disappeared around a bend of the path. The trees closed in around them, and when they rounded the curve, Emer gasped in dismay. Gamel was waiting for them, his shoulders comfortably propped against a tree trunk. The other men had gone on ahead.
Oli groaned. “This isn’t a good idea….”
Gamel ignored Oli, but smiled at Emer as they drew closer. “What are you doing out on your own?”
Emer looked surprised. “Just walking, getting to know the countryside.” Staring at the ugly gaps in his teeth made her think he would do better not to smile.
Gamel leered, and Emer hastily looked away. “You shouldn’t be out alone.”
“Why ever not?” She looked down at her youthful guide. “Oli knows the way and we’re not so very far from the settlement.”
“You could be meeting a lover!” Gamel sniggered as if he’d made a good joke.
His words were offensive and the nasty way he ran his gaze over her body made her think Oli had been right after all. She closed her mouth, kept her own counsel and set a fast pace in the hope that they would catch up with the hunting party before long. When the trail offered glimpses of the rushing brown river through the trees, she knew they would be back in the steading very soon.
Even the hunters slowed as they crossed the stepping stones. Feeling safer in their company, Emer relaxed and watched them nimbly transport the carcase across the stones. Gamel waved her ahead of him and Grendel rushed ahead of her. Laughing at the dog’s speed, she skipped across the first few stones with ease and then turned, expecting to see Oli behind her.
Instead she found Gamel crowding close. Jolted, she turned too quickly and made the mistake of looking down at the water surging through the stones. Dizziness didn’t help. She jerked her head up just as Gamel put an arm about her waist. His breath blew hot and damp on her ear.
“Steady now! Just stand still, don’t rush! You’ll be fine.” He pulled her slender body back against him, and thrust his own forward against her buttocks.
Emer felt ill. Oh, dear Lord, Oli was right! She struggled silently, but Gamel did not release her. He chuckled softly and grabbed her breast through the soft fabric of her gown and stroked her, over and over. Emer gagged with revulsion and struggled against him.
“Let me go!” She could not break free.
“Oh, this feels good,” Gamel muttered in her ear. “Just wait until I get you to myself one night.”
“You will never, ever—oh!” Her voice broke on an outraged squawk as his hand scrabbled through the folds of her gown to her groin and gripped her hard.
Emer dug her nails into the back of his hand and threw herself sideways without a thought about falling in the river and perhaps drowning. She slid out of his grasp, lost what little balance she had and only saved herself by plunging forward onto the next stone.
Regaining her balance, Emer wheeled round, too furious to care about her safety and kicked at his legs. She caught him behind the knee. Gamel teetered over the swift brown water, arms rotating in an effort to keep his balance. Emer yelped in satisfaction when he toppled over and water closed over his fleshy pink head. The water was not deep, but the swift current rolled him across the rocky, uneven river bed. He’d have a good few bruises come morning.
Oli whooped with laughter, and Grendel barked from the river bank.
“Hah!” Emer skipped up and down on the stone, and didn’t wait to see what happened to him. She ran across the rest of the stones as if the furies were after her and tore down the track through the trees with Oli howling with laughter behind her.
She slowed to catch her breath before she went into the hall. One hand to her rib cage, still laughing, she saw Gamel storm out of the trees long before she expected him. Furious and leaking water at every step, he looked ready to commit murder. She and Oli exchanged swift glances and dived into the hall.
Flane sat at the hearth, but she walked straight to his bed space and sat, her back straight, and her hands folded neatly together in her lap. Oli flung himself down beside her, pink in the face with repr
essed giggles and Grendel leapt up beside them both and flopped down, forelegs extended, tongue lolling.
Gamel burst in after them, kept his stony gaze on his bed space as he squelched through the hall. Conversation died down and then broke out again with renewed vigour with a gurgle of repressed laughter beneath it as everyone stared at the wet, lanky figure.
Emer met Flane’s gaze, and smiled. Oli stuffed his fists in his mouth to stop himself laughing. Flane rose and walked slowly across the hall.
“What’s happened?” he asked. “What happened to Gamel?”
“The river,” Emer gasped, torn between laughter and fear of Flane’s reaction. “He fell in!”
Oli rolled across the bed, and hammered his heels on the mattress.
Flane glanced from her to the boy and back again. Then he looked over his shoulder at Gamel. She had no idea what Flane thought of it all, but he said quietly, “You should not have gone out without me.”
Emer’s stomach shrivelled into a small hard nut at his cold expression.
“We only went for a walk,” she said. “We didn’t go far.”
“You don’t go for walks.”
“Why ever not? Flane, I—”
He grasped her arm and marched her out of the hall. He walked with such long strides it was a struggle for her to keep up. She was breathless by the time he steered her through the fishing nets, barrels and baskets littering the boards of the jetty. Flane shoved her down onto an overturned barrel, propped one booted foot against an upended bucket, leaned his forearm across his knee and glared at her. “What have you done?”
Water lapped gently beneath the jetty. Gulls swooped and called above their heads. Emer coughed, and looked down at her hands. The urge to laugh had long since disappeared. “I had to defend myself.”
“Go on.” His mouth had set in a firm, hard line.
Emer ran a hand through her hair and found she couldn’t because it was still skewered into a bun. She plucked the skewer free and her hair tumbled down her back. Twirling the skewer ceaselessly between her fingers, she spoke quickly, anxious to get the confession over. “Gamel grabbed me on the stepping stones. His hands—he touched me—he—” She hesitated. “It was revolting!” She spat the words out. “If that’s what men do to women I want none of it!”
