Ubbe looked furious and turning on Ael-gyfe hauled her to her feet and took off his belt. Ordering two of his warriors to hold her he tore her dress off her and beat her mercilessly until she was unconscious. Eirik put his arm round Sophie and she buried her face in his chest, shaking at the cruelty let loose behind her.
“In future, kill your enemy” Eirik growled “It is kinder in the end.”
Chapter 12
When Sophie woke up the next morning Eirik was leaning over her.
“Oh, please not again!” she gasped.
Grinning Eirik said “So you think you have been punished enough?”
When they’d returned to his house the night before Sophie had been tense, expecting to be beaten but he had growled at her “Take your clothes off and join me in the furs.”
Then he had stripped off his things and lain on the furs watching her. Biting her lip she had undone the belt and brooches holding up the overdress, let it slide off her, then folded it and laid it carefully on the bench. Sitting down she unfastened her boots and then afraid to look at him, rampant and primal, she turned her back on him and pulled the underdress over her head.
Eirik smiled at her embarrassment, enjoying the curve of her back and the swelling globes of her bare bottom. “Hurry slave or I will punish you more severely” he growled again.
Turning to him she said “Stop toying with me, if you intend to beat me get it over with.”
“I have no intention of beating you” he purred “why spoil my pleasure when I can punish you in a different way. Now come here.”
Trembling despite herself Sophie walked slowly to him. When she was close he leaped up and grabbing her in his arms tumbled her onto the furs with him on top of her. His weight pressed her into the mattress and she couldn’t move. One large hand had captured her’s and held them above her head and his legs held her flat. His iron hard shaft was pressed hard onto her mons reaching up to her belly button. He stared into her eyes as his free hand found a breast and squeezed hard. She groaned and tried to squirm away from the pain but couldn’t move; to her annoyance tears formed in her eyes and she blinked hard to get rid of them. Then the pain turned to pleasure as he tweaked a nipple and finally spoke.
“Tonight Sophie, is about your punishment and my pleasure. You will scream from both pain and pleasure and will remember not to displease me again.”
Then he had taught her that what he had done to her before had been nothing, as he took her in every way possible, bruising her tender flesh, making her scream in pain that quickly morphed into pleasure and caused her to cling to him, sometimes begging for mercy and at others begging for more as he drove her senses wild. He took her powerfully from behind, pulling her back onto him with her hair, then he lifted her above him and plunged into her so deeply that she screamed that he was too big, as she thought she felt him in her throat. Time and time again he woke her from an exhausted sleep and introduced her once again to pain/ pleasure. Finally he too was spent and as she again collapsed into sleep he had joined her, hence when he had woken her, her gasped “Please not again.”
However Eirik was interested in food, not sex so he swatted her bottom and growled “Not this time, slave, go fetch my porridge.”
Struggling to sit up she groaned at the pain in her body.’ He might as well have beaten me,’ she thought ‘I couldn’t hurt any more.’ As she got to her feet she swayed and Eirik put out a hand to steady her.
“Hurry up don’t keep me waiting.”
Cursing him under her breath she cautiously walked to the bench where her clothes were. As she looked down she gulped, her breasts were all tiny bruises where he had nipped her and there were finger marks on her hips and stomach. Her sex was swollen and bruises were forming at the tops of her legs. Quickly dropping her underdress over her head she went in search of his breakfast on shaking legs. Alta was at the cooking fire and looked at her pityingly as she bent gingerly over the cauldron to ladle out the porridge into Eirik’s bowl. As she turned away Alta said “You should eat something even if you don’t feel like it. It’s a long time to nattmal.”
“I feel sick and I’m not hungry.”
“I heard you in the night, he treated you cruelly, but he could have beaten you then humped you in the same way. Ubbe would have. Eat, keep your strength up and don’t anger him again, learn your place, it makes life easier. When you swell with his child you will need to be healthy, he will not leave you alone just because you are breeding.”
Sophie’s lip trembled “I will not have his child, I couldn’t bare it. All I want to do is go home.”
“You have no choice in the matter, they believe that a hard cruel mating makes a strong male baby, that is why he did to you what he did last night. He has chosen you to bare his bastard sons. An honour in the Dane’s eyes.”
“Not in mine or my peoples.”
“You have no people, you are a slave, lower than his horse or dog. All you can do is learn to live.” Alta advised. “Now take yourself some porridge, he will be angry if you don’t eat. I have bread and cheese here too as he will be hungry after last night.”
Doing as Alta advised Sophie carried two bowls and a platter of bread and cheese into the house. Eirik had washed and dressed and was sitting at the table a tankard of ale in his hand.
“You took your time, hurry up I’m hungry.”
Placing his bowl and the bread and cheese in front of him Sophie perched on the bench. The bruises on her legs and sex throbbed and she felt dirty. She forced herself to eat the porridge and drank some ale, desperately longing for a cup of hot tea.
As they finished their dagmal there was a knock on the door and Eirik shouted “Enter.”
One of Ubbe’s slaves stood there with a bundle in his arms. “Thegn Eirik, Jarl Ubbe has sent this gift for your slave. He said that as she fights like a shield maiden she should dress like one and asks that you allow her to accept these clothes.”
Putting the bundle on the table he stood and waited for Eirik’s response, ignoring Sophie.
Eirik gestured at the bundle “Open it,” he ordered.
Standing up she went to the clothes and undid the rope that held them. There was a tunic similar to Eirik’s, long trousers and leg wraps with leather straps to keep them in place. For on top of the tunic was a fine leather tunic with long arms that slipped over her head and had ties at the throat. Her slave collar sat just level with the top of the leather, and the last item was a plaited leather belt with a silver buckle. An impressive gift.
As she laid the items out and Eirik examined them he turned to Ubbe’s slave and said “A fine gift, tell Jarl Ubbe that my slave accepts them with thanks.”
As the slave left Eirik turned to Sophie and said “You must act cautiously around Ubbe, he never gives anything without wanting something more in return.”
“Oh. Well what shall I do with them?”
“Wear them of course, not to do so would be an insult.” Eirik frowned and pulled her to him. “Have you learned anything from last night?”
“What, apart from a dozen ways to get fucked?” She said acerbically.
Holding her hard against him he growled “It appears that you have learned nothing. Do you want some more lessons? And what is that word you used?”
“I learned a lot master” she said sweetly “and that word means what you did to me last night.”
“Take care slave, you are so sharp you may cut yourself.”
Then he captured her mouth with his and kissed her until she surrendered to him. Once he had plundered her mouth to his satisfaction he let her go. “Don’t think that your punishment is over, I obviously wasn’t harsh enough last night as you are moving too easily and still have your sharp tongue. Tomorrow you won’t be able to walk!”
Leaving her breathless by the table he buckled on his sword belt and we
nt out of the house. Blowing out a deep breath Sophie sank onto the bench, she was sore and bruised but could still remember the way he had made her respond to him. She had been aware that even while he had been using her roughly he had been careful not to really hurt her. The bruises she had were purely caused by her soft body coming into contact with his rock hard muscles, and the marks on her breasts were fading already. When he had kissed her before he left she couldn’t help responding to him, her body willing to take him into it once again.
Shaking her head she took the breakfast dishes out to Alta and collected some hot water, then returned to the table and stripped off her undergown; taking a cloth and the soap she gently washed herself all over. Remembering the salve Eirik had used on her face she searched his chest for it, finally finding a pot containing a different smelling salve which smelled of herbs, under his tunics breeches and leg wraps. The heat of the water had soothed the bruises on her legs and sex and she gently rubbed the salve in, discovering that it too helped her aching skin. Wondering if it contained arnica or something similar, she decided that she’d go and see the ‘wise woman’ or healer, and pick her brains about how to make the salve and other things the Saxons might have used for medication.
Folding up her two dresses she placed them in Eirik’s chest, after all they belonged to him , as she did, and put on the things Ubbe had sent her. Feeling much warmer and more securely covered she plaited her hair and went out to ask Alta where the healer lived.
Following Alta’s directions she found the healer’s shack on the outskirts of the village that surrounded the walls of Weorgoranceastre. Set aside by itself it was surrounded by a small fence that enclosed a vegetable plot, herb garden and a pig sty containing a very fat sow in one pen and a smaller pig in another. As she walked up the path to the door she heard crying and then a scream. Hesitating she wondered whether to leave or knock on the door but as she pondered the door flew open and a young boy dashed out nearly knocking her over.
“Humph” the boy grunted “what do you want?”
“To see the healer.”
“She’s busy. That one hasn’t stopped screaming all night!”
“Well I won’t keep her long” she said as she stepped through the door into the tumbledown shack. Inside smelled of herbs and smoke from a small brazier and to her surprise on a pallet on the floor she saw Ael-gyfe. A youngish woman was bending over her trying to comfort her but when she heard Sophie she stood up.
“Oh, I didn’t hear you knock” she said.
“I’m afraid I didn’t, the boy let me in.”
“Mmm, well what do you want? I’m busy as you can see.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Sophie was feeling guilty seeing Ael-gyfe lying there looking so ill.
“Not unless you can un-break a bone. Who are you anyway?”
“I’m Sophie Thegn Eirik’s slave, I came to thank you for the herbs you sent me yesterday and assure you that you’ll be paid for them.”
“I see. So you are the one responsible for this!”
“Well yes, but she attacked me with a knife, I only defended myself.”
“You might as well have killed her. What good is a slave with only one hand? And Lord Eirik has already paid me, he is one Dane who pays his debts. That’s the only reason I sent the herbs.”
“Surely you can mend a broken bone?”
The woman laughed “How? I’m not haeg-tesse, are you?”
“No, no, but I do have some idea how to set a broken bone. Will you let me try?”
“You are willing to help an enemy? I’d heard that you were strange but didn’t realise how strange. Well if you want to try I won’t stop you. What do you need?”
“Two straight pieces of wood, linen and do you have comfrey leaves to make a dry poultice?” Sophie said wondering if it would work. How could she keep Ael-gyfe’s arm immobile until the bones had set? There was no plaster of paris here.
“Yes I have comfrey, but she won’t let me touch the arm. She screams if it is moved.”
“Then she needs to be held still while I pull the bones back into place, if I don’t get them in the right position the arm will set wrong and she’ll have pain for ever. Is there anyone who could help?”
The healer went to the door and yelled for help. Two women and a man appeared and on hearing what was required of them one of the women went off to get some more help, while the healer collected the things Sophie had asked for.
Looking outside Sophie saw a mound of deep red clay, separate from the rest of the soil in the garden. If she soaked some in water and soaked strips of linen in it it should dry reasonably hard. When she told the healer what she wanted she was given a bowl made from the same clay, brittle and obviously roughly fired on an open fire, it would still hold the water and clay for a while.
When everything was assembled and they had enough helpers to hold Ael-gyfe, she explained what needed to be done. The arm must be straightened and kept straight until the bones knit together. The Saxons looked sceptical, even a Lach, doctor, rarely made a broken bone good as new again and here was this crazy woman going to try it. However they didn’t argue, just did as they were told so Sophie told Ael-gyfe that they were going to stop her arm from hurting. She protested but the men and women took hold of her, ignoring her screams and cries not to touch her. When Sophie approached her she became hysterical and the men told her to get on with it as they couldn’t keep her still for long.
Grasping Ael-gyfe’s wrist in her strong hand Sophie stretched her arm out feeling the broken bone grinding against itself. With one loud scream Ael-gyfe passed out and Sophie manipulated the bone until it felt as if it had realigned itself. Luckily the bone had broken cleanly so there were no fractured ends to worry about. Getting the healer to hold the arm rigid she wrapped the dry comfrey poultice over the break then a clean linen bandage; laying the two pieces of wood against either side of the arm she bound it into place with the linen soaked in clay and smoothed the clay into a solid cast. When the clay dried, with luck and care it should keep the arm rigid enough for the bones to knit together. Finally she took an old piece of sacking and fashioned a sling, binding Ael-gyfes lower arm to her body. Ael-gyfe was moaning, slowly coming round from her faint and the healer said to Sophie “Help me sit her up so I can tend to her back.”
The men had left to get back to their chores but the women were standing there muttering to each other about the crazy woman. Exasperated she told them to get out then she helped sit Ael-gyfe up, leaning her forward the healer peeled pieces of linen smelling strongly of leeks and garlic off her back, exposing raw bloody weals all over her back and buttocks.
“Oh my god!” Sophie gasped.
“Yes, this is how Ubbe keeps his slaves obedient. If you look closely you’ll see some old healed stripes from the times he beat her before he humped her.”
“He’s disgusting he can’t get away with treating people like this.”
“Ha, to the Danes we are not people, just possessions to be used however they want. Here hold her while I put fresh salve and linen on her.”
Sophie did as she was asked, wincing each time Ael-gyfe gave a faint moan.
“Can’t you give her anything for the pain?” She asked as they lay her back onto a pile of linen and straw.
“I don’t have anything. Nothing I make will help pain of the kind she has. The Danes and our rich Lords buy opiates from Arabia but it is too precious to be wasted on a slave.”
“Even aspirin would help now that her arm is straight.” Sophie thought surely they’d have that, it was so easy to make.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“It is made from the bark of willow trees.”
“I’ve never heard of it, do you know how to make it?”
“In theory yes” Sophie said slowly, thinking of the herbal bo
oks she had looked at for fun. “Are there any willow trees around here? White willow I believe is best, oh, but does that only grow in Europe in this time.”
“There is a stream over there,” the healer pointed, “willows grow near water don’t they?”
“Yes. Well I’ll go and get some. Do you have a sharp knife to cut the bark and a bag to carry it in?”
The healer handed her a lethal looking knife and a sack made from the linen that seemed to be used for everything. “Take care Sophie, it isn’t safe to wander away from the village. If a patrol found you they’d either kill you or rape you.”
“I’ll be careful, it won’t take me long.” Sophie said letting herself out of the shack.
Across a wide expanse of rough grass where cattle and sheep grazed, watched over by three slaves and a guard, she could see a line of trees. Walking quickly in that direction, keeping away from the animals she ignored the slaves and guard and focused on her destination. As she neared the trees there was movement in the undergrowth beneath them and a large grey head gazed out at her. Startled she stopped, thinking it could be a wolf, but then realised that it was a very large dog.
“Geri” she called “here boy, it’s me, I’m your friend.”
The dog stepped out of the bushes gazing at her with his dark eyes and she slowly walked towards him, hand held out, not flinching as he lowered his head and gave a low growl. A few paces from him she stopped and waited for him to come to her, which after sniffing the breeze blowing towards him he did. When he reached her she gently scratched his ear telling him what a clever dog he was and gradually he relaxed, his tail gently drifting from side to side.
“That’s right, you know me. I belong to Eirik just as you do. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you around the village. Where do you sleep? What do you eat? Now I’m just going to those trees to get something, come with me, that’s a good dog.”
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