Goldhill's Treasure

by Jilly Bowling

  “You are a member of Geri’s pack now, other dogs have different packs so must be treated cautiously.”

  Caena nodded and walked proudly along by Geri’s side until they reached the well. Other women were there drawing water and gossiping but when they saw Sophie they drew back and watched her, some scowling but others just looking at her with interest. Ceolwen, aware of their curiosity said “This is Sophie, Lord Eirik’s new slave and my friend. She is skilled in healing and is showing me new cures and potions that will help us all. She seems different to us because she is from Arabia, but she is a woman torn away from her loved ones and enslaved as we are.”

  There were some nods and tentative smiles but one woman said “Some slave with her long hair and fancy necklace. I would say she is a whore!”

  Sophie went to step forward but Ceolwen held her arm, “If she is a whore then so are all of us who have been used by the Danes. Should we kill ourselves by refusing them, or stay alive in the hope that one day we will be free again?”

  A young woman said to the troublemaker “It’s easy for you, being so old and ugly no Dane would bother you unless he were desperate!”

  The other women laughed and the mood changed, some going back to their chatting and others picking up their buckets and going about their business. Taking their turn Sophie and Ceolwen filled the buckets then with Caena helping carried them back to the shack, putting two buckets by the fire and the other two on the table.

  “We’ll rinse the wool in the dirty bucket first, then do it again in the clean one.” Ceolwen told Sophie.

  The wool was covered in leaves and bits of twig and took some picking over before it was put in the first bucket, but with the two of them, chatting as they worked, it was done quickly. When it was all in the bucket Ceolwen took a stout stick and pounded it forcing the dirt out. When the water had turned a dirty brown they squeezed the wool a handful at a time to get the dirty water out and transferred it to the next bucket. Ceolwen called her son to come and take the dirty bucket outside, then they took turns to pound the wool again. After squeezing the wool again they laid it on the table and got rid of that dirty water, then they put it back in the bucket and poured warm water over it, pounding it again. When they took it out for the final time it was surprisingly soft and clean.

  The water in the cauldron was bubbling and Ceolwen moved it off the fire, then instructed Sophie how to put handfuls of wool into it before moving it back over the heat. Scum floated to the top and Ceolwen skimmed it off with a flat piece of wood dropping it onto a piece of linen stretched over a bowl. As the greasy scum cooled she showed Sophie how to squeeze the globules that had formed through the linen until what was in the bowl was smooth and creamy. Once all the scum had been removed from the first batch they did another and another until all the wool-wax had been extracted. With the wool drying on a rack Ceolwen added herbs, lavender mostly and mixed it well. Finally they spooned the cream into little pots and covered them with linen.

  “Gosh, it’s hard work, but absolutely amazing.” Sophie said groaning as her back and stomach hurt.

  “Not so bad as some work” Ceolwen said “I’m going to have to make more pots and it’s a job I hate. So many fall apart in the firing.”

  “I like potting,” Sophie told her, then suddenly doubled over “ouch, oh god my stomach hurts.” Then she felt dampness between her legs and realised that she was bleeding. “Oh god my period’s started.”

  “Your what?”

  “Um, what would you call it? Monthly flow, you know.”

  “Ah yes, so you aren’t breeding yet?”

  “Obviously not” ‘Thank god’she muttered under her breath. “What do you use here for this?”

  Ceolwen laughed “Luckily we have just boiled a batch. We use sheep’s wool of course.” And she went to search for some that was dry.

  After being shown how to use it, like a tampon, Sophie went to the curtained area at the back of the shack and made herself comfortable. The pain was quite insistent and she didn’t feel too good and when Ceolwen saw her face she gave her some of the liquid aspirin she’d made for Ael-gyfe along with a chunk of bread.

  “Well there’s one thing for certain” Ceolwen said “Eirik isn’t going to be pleased.”

  “I know but surely he’ll understand.”

  “He’ll understand but it won’t help his mood, still there are plenty of slaves he can have.”

  Sophie frowned, she didn’t like that idea. Then she shook her head, she should be glad to be relieved of his attention, but she wasn’t. How could she be jealous at the thought of him with another woman when she should hate him?

  “Talking of Eirik, I’d better go, i don’t know what the time is but it must be getting late. I ought to wash and change ready for the nattmal.” Sophie said picking up the cream that Ceolwen had given her. “I’ll come over tomorrow, if I can, and make a kiln and a few pots for you.”

  “A kiln?”

  “An enclosed oven to fire the pots in.”

  “Oh yes, I’ve heard of that but never seen one. I hope that you don’t have too much pain, here take the liquid you made. I’ll go and get some more of the bark, now that I know what to do with it.”

  “Great, I just haven’t had time to boil up the bark I took home with me. When Eirik’s around I don’t have time to do anything.”

  Ceolwen laughed “It doesn’t sound as if you hate it too much.”

  Blushing Sophie said “My mind says I should hate him but my body loves the way he makes me feel.”

  “Take care Sophie, don’t fall in love with him. He is a Dane, a powerful leader and married. You are just a slave to be used then discarded when he tires of you. The Danes don’t know the meaning of the word ‘love’

  “I know, I know” Sophie said as she let herself out of the shack, “see you tomorrow.”

  As she walked through the village with Geri by her side she heard shouting from the direction of Ubbe’s hall, inside the walls of Weorgoranceastre. Hesitating she wondered what was happening, then she saw Alta running towards her.

  “What’s happening?” she called.

  Hardly able to catch her breath Alta gasped “The patrol, badly ambushed, many dead or wounded.”

  Before she had finished speaking Sophie had taken to her heels and was running as fast as she could into the city. I n the clearing in front of Ubbe’s hall, men and horses were swirling around, confusion changing to calm as Eirik’s voice was heard issuing orders. Dead bodies were laid out in a row, four in all, and wounded men were either being carried or helped to walk into the hall. Relieved to hear Eirik’s voice, she searched the crowd for him until she spotted him, helping to lift one of his men off his horse. He was almost unconscious and had had to be tied to the saddle. Pushing through the crowd she gained Eirik’s side. “Eirik are you alright, is there anything I can do?” She asked.

  As he turned towards her she gasped, his face was ashen, he was covered in blood with a slash down his cheek. His left arm hung loosely by his side and he was swaying. Putting an arm round him she took his weight saying “You’re injured, come let me tend your wounds.”

  “No, I have to see to the safety of my men” he slurred, his eyes glazing over.

  “They are safe now. With many to help them, it won’t help them if you die.”

  Taking charge she ordered two of the uninjured men to carry him to his house which to her surprise they did. Alta was standing in front of the house wringing her hands in shock.

  “Boil water, then go and get Ceolwen. Her help is needed here and at Ubbe’s hall.”

  Without a word Alta did as she was told, the tone of Sophie’s voice brooking no argument.

  Inside the house she told the men to lay Eirik on the table and started to remove his leather tunic. As she lifted it over his head blood flowed freely from a lon
g deep wound over his shoulder muscle.

  Taking his short sword from by his side she cut his linen tunic from him, then turned to one of the men. “Would you please follow Alta to Ceolwen’s and tell her we need the webs we collected this morning, a very sharp needle and catgut or silk thread. Please hurry he’s losing a lot of blood.”

  The warrior hesitated until through gritted teeth Eirik told him to do it.

  The water over the cooking fire was boiling so she tore up some clean linen and dropped it into it, hoping that it would sterilise it. Then with thumb and forefinger she lifted it out, slightly burning herself and waved it through the air to cool it. Layering the pieces onto a clean piece of linen she hoped that the middle pieces would stay sterile long enough to use, and carried them back into the house. Blood was pumping out of the wound and the warrior with Eirik told her it should be burned to seal it.

  “No, that would seal any poison in. The blood seems a lot but it is cleaning the wound. Now would you hold him so I can wash it.?”

  “There is no need to hold me, I won’t move” Eirik muttered.

  “It will hurt master.” Sophie said.

  “Just do it, slave” he growled.

  Taking clean linen she washed the caked blood away from his shoulder to reveal the extent of his injury. It was deep and about five inches long but it hadn’t broken the bone, his thick strong muscles had cushioned the blow. It had nicked a small vein and that was where the blood was pumping from. Sophie swallowed as she revealed the white muscle and flesh sliced apart nearly to the bone, but she refused to give in to the sickness in her stomach. As she finished cleaning around the wound she saw pieces of linen and leather forced deep into it and knew that she must get them out or they would infect him.

  She searched in Eirik’s trunk for a small narrow knife and going outside held it in the boiling water for as long as she could. As she was doing that Ceolwen arrived carrying a bag with all the things Sophie had asked for.

  “How is he?”

  “Conscious, just, but bleeding quite hard. There is cloth and leather inside the wound and if I don’t get it out it will poison him.”

  “Oh! I’ll help. I brought a sharp needle made from whale bone, the leather workers use them, and I brought sinew as thread, pig’s sinew, it’s very strong. What do you want it for?”

  “To stitch the wound together. Put the needle and thread into the boiling water to clean them. Could you do that for me while I clean the wound and pack it with webs?”

  “To Stitch his skin? I’ve never heard of such a thing, but I’ll help. I also brought leeks and garlic steeped in wine to help against the fever.”

  “Thank you that’s a great idea.” Picking up the bag Ceolwen had brought Sophie went back into the house. Eirik was still conscious but the blood was still pumping out of his shoulder and she knew that if she didn’t stop it he would die from loss of blood. Taking some of the spider’s web out of the bag she rolled it and forced it over the vein sealing the hole. Then she cleaned the wound again with the leek and garlic solution. It stung and Eirik hissed through his teeth when she applied it to the raw edges. Now that the wound was clean she could clearly see the scraps of material that had been forced into it by the force of the blow and she started to lift them out using the point of the knife. Eirik’s arms flexed and his body became rigid but he didn’t move away from her.

  “Nearly done my love” she murmured close to tears at the pain he was enduring without a word. His eyes opened and he gazed at her then nodding closed them again, concentrating on not moving.

  Satisfied that she had got all the rubbish out of the wound Sophie called for Ceolwen to bring in the needle and thread. As she approached the table Ceolwen blanched at the sight of the wound but bravely stood by Sophie and handed her the boiled needle and thread.

  “It’s a clean cut,” Ceolwen said “but will not heal by itself. We should burn it, but if we do he may lose the use of his arm.”

  “No we’re not going to burn to, I’m going to stitch it back together” Sophie said threading the needle. “Now it has stopped bleeding I can see what I’m doing. I don’t know whether to leave the spider’s webs in place or move them. It might start bleeding again if I move them but might start an infection if I leave them so deep in his body.”

  “We have plenty of spider’s webs ease most of it out gently and see what happens.” Ceolwen suggested.

  As she gently eased the lump of web off the hole in the vein Sophie held her breath. Most of the webs came off on the point of the knife but the bottom bit had melted into the blood making it congeal.

  “Perfect” Sophie let out her breath, unaware that she’d been holding it and withdrew the knife. “It’s clotting, how amazing, I didn’t expect it to work so well, now I can stitch it up.”

  Sewing through Eirik’s tough skin and drawing the gaping wound together, taxed every bit of her mental and physical strength, but she persevered even when he couldn’t help groaning. She’d only ever seen a wound stitched when she’d cut her thumb badly on a tin, but as her hand had been numbed, her curiosity had made her watch. Now she tried to emulate the doctor she had watched. It seemed to take forever and by the time she was finished she was shaking like a leaf. Putting the simple antiseptic cream the Danes used on the outside of the wound she put the sterile cloths on it then bound his shoulder tightly, making a sling for his arm as she had done for Ael-gyfe.”

  Ubbe had turned up to see whether Eirik lived and he’d watched in amazement as she sewed his Merkismathr’s skin together.

  When she was finished he spoke to Eirik briefly then he turned to Sophie “If he lives you will be rewarded. I’ll send some wine to strengthen his blood and ask the gods to spare him from the fever. Look after him well slave.”

  “Yes master” Sophie murmured keeping her eyes down.

  When Ubbe left taking Eirik’s warrior with him Sophie and Ceolwen stripped Eirik and sat him on a bench as they washed him all over, cleaning the small wound on his face and covering it with cream. Then they helped him to the bed and covered him with furs.

  “When the wine arrives heat some up” Ceolwen told Sophie “I’ll go and get some strengthening herbs to put in it. He should sleep after that and when he wakes he’ll need a thick meaty gruel to help him regain his strength.”

  “Yes I know. I’ll see to it as soon as I get the wine into him.”

  Ceolwen hurried off to get the herbs and Sophie got some hot water to clean the table and floor that were covered in blood. Her tunic and trousers weren’t much better but she kept them on until she’d cleaned up. When she’d gone out to the meal fire for water she’d found Alta chopping up marrowbones to add to the gruel she’d already got simmering over the fire.

  “Alta that’s so clever of you to think of that” she exclaimed.

  “Humph, stands to reason he’ll need nourishment to replace the blood he’s lost” Alta muttered.

  Shaking her head Sophie reminded herself that these people weren’t stupid, or how else would the human race have survived and prospered as they had.

  When one of Ubbe’s slaves brought the wine she heated it by getting a metal bar red hot then plunging it into the wine. As she was doing this Ceolwen arrived back with the herbs and added a good pinch to it. The two women held Eirik up and he drank the wine gratefully, so weak he was a dead weight leaning against their bodies. However he was far from dying as his lips quirked and he said “This is nice, two of you at one time in my furs. Remind me to try it when I am healed.”

  They looked at each other and shook their heads “In your dreams!” Sophie said as they lay him back onto the furs.

  Chapter 14

  Eirik woke the next morning feeling renewed. He’d been injured many time before, twice badly, and invariably the fever’s he’d suffered had laid him low. After he’d drunk the wine the night bef
ore, he’d slept solidly for five hours, only waking because he needed to piss. Sophie wouldn’t allow him to move and to his amusement had helped him urinate into a pot, slapping him when he had risen to the touch of her hands.

  She’d then made him comfortable by wedging Alta’s mattress behind him and had spoon fed him the nourishing broth Alta had made, insisting that he finish a bowlful when he said he was too exhausted to eat anymore. After another mug of hot herb infused wine, she’d settled him down onto the furs and once she’d returned Alta’s mattress to her, had lain down by his side. Snuggling into his undamaged side she said “Go to sleep Eirik, you’ll feel better after you’ve slept.”

  He’d fallen asleep gazing at her and remembering that she had called him ‘My love.’

  When she felt him move she was instantly awake, holding her hand to his brow and asking how he felt, did he have any pain.

  “Surprisingly I have no pain and I feel good, and horny!” He grinned.

  “You always feel horny, when you’re in your coffin they won’t be able to close the lid as that thing will be sticking up.” She said dryly.

  “Are you disrespecting your master, slave?” He growled.

  “No master, just stating a fact. Don’t try to get up by yourself, you’ll probably be dizzy and I don’t want you splitting your stitches. I’ll go and fetch your porridge and some ale.” Sophie ordered getting off the furs.

  “Don’t go, there is an important matter to attend to first” he ordered, fisting his, by now, engorged cock. “Come I will show you how to ride me.”

  Sophie quickly moved out of his reach “I’m sorry master, but your body is still weak and I have my monthly flow. It started yesterday before you were injured, so I’m afraid it isn’t possible at the moment.”

  Disgruntled Eirik lay back onto the furs and willed his rampant shaft to behave. What was it with this woman that affected him so strongly even when he knew he was weak and needed to conserve his energy.

  “I didn’t dream it then, you sewed my skin together as if I were a piece of leather.”