Goldhill's Treasure

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Goldhill's Treasure Page 11

by Jilly Bowling


  He needed to bathe, it was Laurday and the bath house would be warm. As Merkismathr, Ubbe’s second in command, he had the right to bathe after him, before the lesser warriors. If Sophie had recovered he would take her with him, it was time she started to learn her duties.

  Sophie came awake once again to find Eirik bending over her patting her cheek.

  “Ah good” he said “you are awake. Come get up it is Laurday and if I don’t get to the bath house soon I will miss my turn.”

  Struggling into a sitting position, Sophie recoiled, he smelled disgusting, sour ale sweat spilled food and sex assailed her senses. It was obvious what he had been doing all night.

  “I haven’t got anything to wear!”

  Pulling the furs off her he grinned “That’s how a bed slave should be, ready and naked in my furs whenever I want her.”

  “So I walk around naked do I?” Sophie snapped.

  Eirik frowned at her tone, she really was going to take some taming. However now was not the time, he needed a wash, so he went to the door and shouted for Alta to bring something to cover his new slave. She quickly appeared carrying a plain linen underdress; taking it from her he threw it at Sophie saying “Hurry, don’t keep me waiting.” Then he went to a trunk in the corner of the room and took out a clean tunic, britches and leg wraps.

  Sitting in the bed Sophie struggled into the dress. It dropped over her head and shapelessly fell down to her calves, the material was rough feeling like sailcloth but it was clean and covered her completely.

  Eirik put his bundle of clothes into her arms, picked up a bar of soap, his razor and comb and went to the door, expecting her to follow him.

  “Wait, I haven’t any shoes.” Sophie told him.

  “We are only going a few yards, anyway slave, you have to earn luxuries.” Eirik growled. “Come on.”

  “Luxuries!” Sophie muttered to herself but she did as she was told and followed him. The ground and air outside was freezing and she was shivering in minutes.

  Luckily the bath house wasn’t far away from Eirik’s shack but as they arrived there the door opened and Jarl Ubbe stepped out followed by two female slaves. Both had long hair and were warmly dressed in a linen underdress that reached their ankles, with a woolen dress similar to a pinafore dress over the top. This was held up with two brooches on either shoulder and was nipped in at the waist by woven belts. They had stout boots on their feet and were looking at Sophie with contempt.

  Ubbe spoke in norse “Eirik, I see you are breaking in your new slave. Do you think you will be able to tame her? I hear she nearly busted your balls and fought you as you punished her. Quite a hellcat. Perhaps she’d be better as a shield maiden rather than a bed slave?”

  Eirik growled “She’s lusty enough to make the breaking worthwhile.”

  Ubbe laughed and slapped him on the shoulder “Good luck my friend, if you wake up one morning with your throat cut, remember you were warned.” Then he gestured to his slaves who followed him obediently carrying his dirty clothes and washing things.

  The heat of the bath house made Sophie feel quite dizzy after the cold outside, but it passed quickly and she looked around with interest. There was a wooden plank over a hole lined with cobbles and to one side was a fire pit with stones all around it. Cauldrons hung over the fire full of water and buckets full of cold water stood near. As she stood taking it all in the door opened and two female slaves carried in more water which they added to the buckets by the fire.

  Eirik was undressing ignoring the women as if they didn’t exist and he growled at Sophie “Don’t just stand there come and help me.”

  The Saxon women looked at her with scorn and she bit her lip on a brusque retort. Going to Eirik’s side she helped lift his heavy leather tunic over his head; made to resist a sword’s blow the shoulders and chest were triple layers of leather and she staggered under the weight as she laid it on a bench to one side of the hut. Eirik pulled his linen tunic over his head and held out a leg “Remove my leg wraps and my boots.”

  The Saxons looked askance at his muscular body and scurried out of the hut, muttering to each other.

  As Sophie did as he’d ordered he watched her closely; she was trying to obey him but was naturally rebellious of authority. Where did she come from, what culture allowed a slave to defy her master? Danish women had more freedom than women from other cultures but even they understood that once you became a slave you had no rights. Once a slave your very life depended on your master’s whim and you were on a par with his horse, dog or farm animals; Sophie didn’t seem to understand that and she had a lot to learn. However he enjoyed her bravery and pride and wouldn’t want her to be too cowed, he liked some fire in his bed slave.

  Once his boots and leg wraps were removed he pulled off his breeches and sat on the plank.

  “Take off your tunic, if it gets wet you’ll be even colder when we leave here.”

  She hesitated, then realising that he made sense removed her dress and laid it on the bench with his things. Feeling embarrassed she turned back to him, refusing to do the usual and try to cover herself with her hands.

  “Now take the ladle and put some cold water on the stones around the fire, the steam will open our pores and help cleanse our bodies. Then mix some hot water from the cauldron with the cold water in a bucket until it is comfortable and bring it over here.”

  Doing as she was told she started to sweat in the steamy heat and thought that this must be how saunas started. Heaving the bucket back behind Eirik she followed his instructions and poured some water over his body; then he handed her a cloth and the soap and said “Now wash me slave.”

  As she soaped his shoulders arms and chest he undid his hair then he stood up and told her to continue washing the rest of him. When she hesitated he slapped her bottom and lifted her into the pit in front of him placing her hands on his genitals. His thick shaft was standing to attention and his heavy sacks were solid, but he ignored her as if she was doing nothing.

  Red with embarrassment she did as he ordered, washing down his legs to his feet; then he lifted her out of the pit and sat back on the plank as she washed his hair. When he was satisfied that he was clean he instructed her to pour warm water over him to wash off all the soap. To her surprise the water disappeared down through the cobbles, draining away completely.

  “Fetch me my razor and comb,” he ordered.

  Picking up the razor Sophie thought about attacking him with it, then shuddered as she knew she couldn’t do it, so she took it and the comb and passed them to him. He shaved himself deftly using touch to guide the razor, then when he was satisfied he handed the comb to her and said “Comb my hair.”

  Dreading the thought of finding lice in his hair she started gingerly, then realising that his hair really was clean she combed out the tangles then used the fine toothed side. There was nothing in his hair and following his instructions she plaited it so it lay neatly along the top of his head. She was dying to ask if she could wash too but wisely held her tongue.

  Pleased that she was obeying him Eirik took pity on her and said “You may wash if you wish.”

  Then he started to dry himself with a cloth. Realising that she’d have to get her own water Sophie went to the fire and filled a bucket, then she picked up the ladle and took it and the bucket to the pit. Sitting on the plank she loosened her hair and poured ladle fulls of water over herself, it felt wonderful. When she was wet enough she soaped her hair and worked her way down to her feet totally unaware of Eirik watching her. He was enjoying the spectacle of this beautiful woman washing herself all over. The slaves he’d had in the past hadn’t been too keen on washing, only doing it at his insistence. His wife used their bath house in private and he’d never seen a woman who enjoyed being clean wash herself.

  His ever ready shaft bounced and his balls ached with the desire to be b
uried deep inside this slave, so he gruffly told her to get on with it, others more important than her were waiting for their turn to wash.

  Sophie rinsed the soap out of her hair and combed it well, nothing coming out. It seemed as if the soap kept the lice at bay, for which she was thankful. Eirik handed her the cloth, then pulled on his breeches and tunic. As he put on his boots he said “Come you’re dry enough, put on your tunic and collect my things. We have spent enough time in here.”

  As he opened the door the icy air hit Sophie with a blast and she quickly gathered his dirty clothes, heavy leather tunic and washing things and followed him out of the hut. Shivering in the cold she ran back to Eirik’s shack and got there at the same time as he did. Holding the door for her he grinned to himself, amazing what ice cold air could do in bringing a slave to heel. Shouting for Alta, Eirik told her to wash the clothes that Sophie was carrying and clean and oil his leather tunic, then he went to the table and poured himself a tankard of ale.

  “Go to the maletor, meal fire, and collect my porridge” he ordered “get some for yourself as well.”

  Gritting her teeth Sophie went out of the shack to the lean to at the back where Alta cooked the food. Hanging over the fire was a small cauldron with the porridge simmering in it. She filled a bowl for Eirik and put a smaller amount into a bowl for herself, then took them back into the shack. Handing Eirik his bowl she huddled close to the brazier feeling as if she’d never get warm again. Eirik spooned his porridge into his mouth and watched her as she ate hers. Even in that shapeless tunic and with her hair wet and clinging to her head she was beautiful. His body urged him to drag her over to his furs and spend the morning buried in her, but his brain told him that if he treated her right he would have a woman any warrior could be proud of, a fitting mother for his sons’, who he would free and raise as Danes.

  Finishing his food he searched in his trunk and took out clean leg wraps, a soft leather tunic and a heavy fur cloak. Sitting down again to fasten the leg wraps he said “I am going to the slave auction, you will clean the house thoroughly and air the furs.”

  Happy at the thought of being in the warm Sophie nodded and said “Yes master.”

  Pleased at her acquiescence he finished tying the wraps, put on the tunic, buckled on his sword belt and wrapping the cloak around him fastened it with a fine gold brooch at his shoulder.

  “Don’t leave my house” he ordered, then he let himself out and Sophie heaved a sigh of relief. She’d seen the desire in him and had been expecting to be taken by him again. She supposed that in her world it would be called rape as she hadn’t exactly agreed to have sex with him, but in her heart she knew that he hadn’t really raped her. He’d given her pleasure and by the time he took her she was as eager as him.

  Sitting by the brazier she rubbed her hair dry then, dragging the comb through it she plaited it tight to her head; she didn’t want it to get dirty again as she cleaned. Looking around the shack she decided on a plan of action. First she would take the furs outside and beat them, then lay them over something to air; so she started to pull them off the bed, which was a simple square frame laid on the floor with a thin mattress of some kind on it. The mattress smelled dreadful and when she investigated she discovered that it was just a linen bag filled with straw which had gone mouldy. No wonder the Vikings had lice! Going to the door she shouted for Alta who begrudgingly appeared.

  “We need a new piece of linen twice the size of the bed and some fresh clean straw. Also if you could get some herbs, dried lavender and lemon thyme would be best.”

  Alta looked at her as if she was crazy “Why are you worrying about the Dane’s bed?”

  “Because it appears that I will have to share it and I’m not sleeping on mouldy straw.”

  “You’re lucky you have a bed, slaves usually sleep on the floor, that’s where I sleep.”

  Sophie considered her options, she needed to get Alta on her side so she smiled at her and said “Well if you got the straw and things for Thegn Eirik there’s no reason why some of it couldn’t make a bed for you. I certainly wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  Alta thought about it “Our master might notice and then he’d beat me.”

  “Not if I told him I’d given you the things, I could say that I had too much for just one mattress. If he was angry then it would be me he punished, not you.”

  “He hits hard.” Alta pointed out.

  “I know he’s already punished me once. Now do you know how to get the stuff.”

  “Yes, I’ll see the slave in charge of our master’s supplies he’s used to me fetching things for him.”

  “Good, then please hurry, I have a lot to do before Eirik gets back.” Sophie turned back into the shack and grabbing the mattress hauled it outside. Then she took the furs out and laid them over a rail that went around the cooking area. Taking up a heavy stick she beat the furs until no more dust came out of them. Leaving them to air she went back into the shack and finding a besom started to sweep the floor around and under the bed. The dust that arose made her sneeze so she went back to the cooking fire to get a bucket of water she’d seen there. Sprinkling it over the dusty wooden floor she swept up the resulting damp detritus and continued on over the rest of the floor.

  By the time she’d finished sweeping the floor Alta was back carrying linen, a bone needle and thread and two large bunches of dried lavender, lemon time and a bag of marigold petals; behind her a male slave was carrying two stooks of straw. As Alta handed her the linen and herbs she said “I got the herbs from our healer, and told her our master would pay her for them. If he is angry about that it is on your head.”

  Sophie swallowed, if he was angry then heaven help her, but she calmly said “That’s good Alta, well done. I will explain to Eirik what I have done.”

  The male slave grunted “Hmph, good luck with that. These Danes don’t part with gold easily. By the way I’m Beald-wine, Thegn Eirik’s trusted quartermaster. Where do you want this straw?”

  “Oh, inside please, I don’t want it to get wet or dirty.” Sophie ordered. “Could you take the old mattress away and burn it?”

  “Burn it! Someone would be happy to have that to lie on.”

  “Well then just take it away, I don’t care what you do with it.”

  “Thegn Eirik will, he’ll want whatever I get for it.” Beald-wine warned her.

  “Then tell him what you did with it and pay him.” Sophie was exasperated at the haggle over a rotting pile of straw.

  Beald-wine picked up the the mattress and carried it away and she took the needle , thread and linen off Alta and sat on a bench to make a sack for the straw.

  “What do you want me to do now?” Alta asked.

  “Take a comb and go and comb the furs through to finish cleaning them.”

  “What! I can’t use our master’s comb for such a thing.”

  Exasperated Sophie searched for the comb Eirik had given her and handed it over to Alta. “Do a good job, I don’t want one louse to be left in them.”

  Muttering “ Hmph, thinks she’s a Dane’s lady not a slave like me.” Alta did as she was told.

  The bone needle did a surprisingly good job and in no time at all Sophie had made a simple sack, the size of the bed frame. Turning it inside out she filled it with even layers of straw and herbs, then sewed up the open end. Laying it on the bed frame she felt a surprising sense of achievement.

  After she’d swept up the straw and herbs that had ended up on the floor, she got some fresh water and scrubbed the benches then the table. As she was wiping the soap off the table Eirik returned carrying some bundles tied up with rope.

  “Why is Alta combing the bed furs?” He asked.

  “To make sure there are no lice left in them. The furs and mattress were filthy so I’ve made a new mattress, beaten the furs and asked Alta to comb anything out of th
em that the beating didn’t get rid of.” Sophie stood up and faced him.

  Frowning he asked “Where did you get the linen and straw for the mattress from?”

  “From your supplies, I told Beald-wine that it was for you and he brought them for me. The herbs we got from the Saxon’s healer. I’m afraid I told her that you’d pay her for them.” His frown was making her tremble but she faced him with her head held high.

  “I told you not to leave my house. Do you enjoy being punished for your disobedience?” He growled.

  Sophie took a deep breath to steady herself “I didn’t leave the house, I sent Alta. If it was wrong then punish me not her, she only did as I told her.”

  Eirik stepped in front of her “You take a lot on yourself, have you forgotten that you are a slave, a nothing? Who are you to tell my slave what to do?”

  Sophie lost her temper “You told me to clean your house, the bed was disgusting and needed cleaning but I couldn’t go and get the things I needed so I asked Alta. you’re so fussy about washing that I thought you’d enjoy a clean bed. The herbs will keep the lice and fleas at bay, but if you want to wallow like a pig in muck then have the old mattress brought back. I’m passed caring!”

  She was shaking like a leaf and had clenched her fists so hard her nails were digging into her palms.

  Despite himself Eirik grinned, she was so quick to temper even though she was afraid of him; she had worked really hard to do as she’d been told and he could actually smell how clean his house was. She, on the other hand, was hot and sweaty with dirt streaks on her face and her hair sticking to her face and neck, and he’d never desired a woman more. Her feminine odour was sweet and clean and the scent of the herbs she’d used added to her intoxicating scent. He longed to take her in his arms and make love to her but she was a slave and needed to learn her place. Sitting on a bench he unwound his leg wraps and took off his boots. Then he undid his cloak and took it and his leather jerkin off.

 

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