Goldhill's Treasure

by Jilly Bowling

  “No you didn’t dream it, the wound was terrible and if we’d just burnt it you could have lost the use of that arm. I stopped the blood flow, cleaned out the linen and leather that had been forced deep into your shoulder and stitched the sides together. If you behave it should heal well and you won’t get a fever.”

  Eirik held out his hand “I appreciate your care and skill my love.”

  Hesitating she took his hand and he pulled her back down beside him. Leaning over carefully he kissed her sweetly and as her heart did a flip she kissed him back, feeling a greater connection to to him than she’d ever done to her husband. When he finally released her he growled “Go get my porridge, a man is like to starve to death with a slave like you.”

  Standing up she smiled at him and went out to get the porridge; Alta was stirring the porridge over the fire and when she heard Sophie she straightened up.

  “How is he, any sign of the fever?” She asked.

  “He’s good, no sign of a fever and he’s hungry so I think he’ll be OK.”

  “The gods be praised, if he’d died we’d have been sold again and who knows what would have become of us.”

  As she spooned the porridge into the bowls Sophie thought about what Alta had said. Only Eirik stood between her and the likes of Ubbe or Stenar, a fate worse than death indeed. Instead of caring for him she should be running while he was incapacitated, but she couldn’t leave him and she finally admitted to herself that she loved him. She wasn’t ‘in love’ with him as she’d been with Calum; that hero worshipping love of a girl, had disappeared when she discovered that he had feet of clay. Eirik was no story book hero, he could be cruel, hard and bloodthirsty but in this world he was a complete man; loyal, honourable, stalwart and brave and she could sense that he had feelings for her even if he couldn’t admit it.

  When she carried the bowls back into the house Eirik was sitting at the table drinking a mug of ale. He’d managed to put his breeches on but his tunic was discarded on the floor.

  “You should have stayed put until I could help you.”

  “I’m no child to be cossetted and dressed, you’ve got me tied up so tight I couldn’t get my tunic on. Undo this damn cloth around my arm” he growled as he pulled at the sling holding his arm tight to his body.

  “Stop wriggling so, you’ll tear your stitches and then you’ll be in trouble. Here let me help,” she said going to the tight knot in the middle of his back.

  In the end she had to take a knife to it as he’d pulled it so tight trying to get out of it. When the sling came off he moved his arm, then groaned at the pain he’d caused himself.

  “I told you not to move” Sophie muttered “here let’s get your tunic on.” Gently she eased it over his head and shoulders, holding the armhole so he could get his bad arm in first. He was grey and sweating by the time she’d finished and took a deep swallow of ale.

  “Eat your porridge you need sustenance and rest for a few days until the wound knits together. If you push yourself too hard you’ll end up with a fever and what’s the point of that.” Sophie was standing with her hands on her hips glowering at him.

  He grunted and as the pain eased, started to eat his porridge until she sat down and started to eat hers.

  “You are very bossy for a slave.”

  Sophie sighed “And for a man who could have died you are a fool.”

  Eirik’s head came up and he scowled at her “Did you just call your master a fool?”

  “Yes I did” she snapped “I didn’t spend hours fixing you so that you can undo all my work by being bloody stupid.”

  Eirik’s eyes glittered “Then why did you fix me?”

  “Because I love you, don’t ask me why. You beat me, raped me, abused me and I should have run as far as I could instead of helping you.” As Eirik’s lips twitched she shouted “Go on laugh at me you big lump, nobody could despise me as much as I do myself.” The tears that hadn’t come before were streaming down her face and she choked on her words.

  Eirik stood up towering over her, then with his good arm he pulled her up to his chest and kissed her deeply. She was sobbing so hard she could hardly breath and he removed his lips from hers and held her against his shoulder, stroking her back with his good hand.

  “Ah, Sophie, Sophie, you are in my blood, if love is wanting you, your company not just your body, worrying about you and wanting to take care of you, then I love you too. My life has been sweeter since I’ve had you and I’m glad that you didn’t leave me. I would leave Valhalla to find you, wherever you are.”

  Then he kissed her again and as her tears continued to flow he caught them with his tongue and licked her eyes dry. Held tight against him unable to stop crying she realised that she was crying out all the hurt that Calum had inflicted on her, and the fear she had felt since she’d found herself in the ninth century. Eirik’s love meant so much more to her than Calum’s had and so much more than her dream home. Now home would be wherever Eirik was. Then he swayed slightly and she steered him back to the bench.

  “You should be lying down, please don’t make yourself ill, Eirik, it will take longer to heal if you do.”

  “You’re right, I’ll finish my porridge then lie on the furs.”

  “It’ll be cold, I’ll get some more, don’t move.” She picked up the bowls and hurried outside.

  Geri was lying just outside the door and he looked into the house at Eirik sitting at the table.

  “He’s alright Geri, stubborn, foolish but alright” she said putting the two half empty bowls in front of him, “here you might as well have this.”

  Then she took two more bowls and went to the cauldron. It was still a third full and as she spooned out more porridge she said “Alta, you make a lot of porridge each morning but there’s a lot left. Do you heat it up for the next day?”

  Alta bit her lip and looked down but said nothing.

  “I’m not going to tell Eirik, so you can tell me what you do with it. I’m a bit nosey I’m afraid.”

  “Well, um, I give it to some of my family” Alta muttered.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you had family here.”

  “Of course, we were all taken at the same time, My sisters are dead but their daughters are slaves here. Their master’s don’t feed them well, so” Alta shrugged “It is only a little grain and water.”

  “I’m sorry. Don’t worry I won’t say anything. I’m sorry I gave the bowls to Geri, but I didn’t know.”

  “We all do what we can to survive. The dog brought me a large hare this morning, he deserves the porridge.” Alta said pointing at a skinned carcass already steeping in a pot.

  “Well done Geri, I told you he was a good dog. If pet animals like you they often bring you presents, so he must like you.”

  “He likes the fire and the porridge” Alta smiled.

  “Well there you are, tit for tat” Sophie laughed. “While I take the porridge in would you heat some more of the wine for Eirik, if he sleeps it will aid his recovery.”

  “Of course, I’ll bring it in when it’s hot.”

  When Sophie went back into the house Eirik was sitting on the bench leaning against the table his left arm held across his chest as Sophie had tied it.

  “This seems the best position to stop the pain in my shoulder, could you wrap the cloth around it again to stop it moving” he asked.

  “Of course” she refrained from saying ‘I told you so’.

  As soon as his arm was held in place he relaxed and said “I hate to admit it but this wound is uncomfortable.”

  ‘Uncomfortable’ Sophie thought ‘agony more likely.’ But all she said was “Eat your porridge while it’s hot. Alta is heating some wine and when you’ve had it we’ll help you lie down.”

  “I should go and see how my men are.”

  “No, the
y have Ubbe and Ivor and your doctor to help them.”

  “Humph, far more likely to kill them than help them.” Eirik growled.

  “Look once you’re comfortable on the furs I’ll collect Ceolwen and go and see what we can do.”

  “They won’t let you, the Saxon’s Lach doesn’t think women know anything.”

  “Well they’ll just have to suffer then” she said getting angry.

  Before Eirik could speak Alta came in with the wine, “One of Ubbe’s slaves is here asking if Sophie can go to his hall and help with the injured.”

  Eirik frowned “Why would he ask for Sophie?”

  “He was here last night when I stitched you up and said that if you lived I would be rewarded.” Sophie told him.

  “I’d better come” he said going to stand up.

  “No, I won’t go if you insist on coming. It would put your healing back for weeks.”

  “If Ubbe asks you to go it is an order. You must go, but not alone.”

  “Send a message to Leif, you trust him don’t you? I thought I saw him when I was looking for you.”

  “Yes he’s uninjured, very well, I’ll send him a message while you collect Ceolwen and whatever herbs you need. Put on your tunic and trousers you can’t go like that.” Eirik said indicating the short dress she wore about the house.

  “My tunic and trousers got covered in blood and are still wet from being washed. I’ll have to put on my good clothes. Come let’s get you onto the bed and get you comfortable.” Sophie said helping him to his feet.

  Alta helped her and they settled him on the furs insisting that he drink the herb infused wine she had brought in. As soon as he was settled he sent Alta in search of Leif and Sophie changed into her long dress and overdress. After she’d washed her hands and face she plaited her hair as tightly as she could and set off to Ceolwen’s shack, Geri by her side.

  When she got to Ceolwen’s she found that a messenger from Ubbe had already delivered an order for her to take her cures and potions to his hall. She was packing pots and pouches of them into a wicker basket as Sophie walked in and she didn’t turn around but said “Look what your craziness has got us into now. Why would I want to try and heal the animals who killed my husband?”

  Sophie wasn’t surprised, she knew that the Saxons hated the Danes so just said “If we want to live we’ll have to do as we are told. I don’t regret helping Eirik but understand how you must be feeling.”

  “Is he alright?”

  “Yes, weak but with no fever. He’s eaten and had some herbed wine. And I’ve persuaded him to try and sleep. He wanted to come to Ubbe’s hall with us but I refused to go if he tried to move.”

  “Ha, bet that went down well!” Ceolwen commented as she handed Sophie the basket.

  “He saw sense and he’s sent for Leif to escort us there.”

  “Right, that’s it, I’ve got everything I can think of. I don’t know what to do with Caena. If we are kept in Ubbe’s hall what will he do?” Ceolwen was wringing her hands, sick with worry about her son.

  “We’ll leave him with Alta at Eirik’s house. After all he belongs to him and you know he’ll look after him.”

  “Yes good idea, Eirik will protect him, let’s hope that the fact that we belong to him will protect us.” Ceolwen said darkly.

  As they walked back through the village, which was slowly being rebuilt after the Danes had sacked it the last time, women came to watch them pass. Most stayed quiet but one or two called out. “Stay alive, Ceolwen.”

  “Make sure those pigs suffer and die.”

  “Don’t try too hard to save them.”

  Ignoring them all they hurried along to Eirik’s house, Caena running to keep up with them.

  Chapter 15

  Leif was sitting on a bench talking to Eirik and when Sophie and Celowen walked in he said to Sophie “You did a good job with my friend here, do you think you can help the others?”

  “I don’t know, it depends how badly hurt they are and whether their wound is infected.”

  “Infected? I don’t know that word.” Leif said.

  “It means that poison has entered the wound, that is what causes a fever.”

  Leif grimaced “It is inevitable, a fever always follows a deep wound.”

  “Eirik doesn’t have a fever and his wound was deep.”

  Raising his eyebrows and looking at Eirik Leif said “You allow a slave to use your given name?”

  Eirik sighed “No of course not, but Sophie can’t seem to remember to call me master. When I am healed I’ll have to take her in hand. However when someone heals you, as she has done, the lines between master and slave become blurred.”

  “True, I have never heard of a slave saving a master’s life before. Crazy indeed.”

  Sophie’s lips tightened but she stayed quiet, she needed Leif on her side if she were to escape Ubbe’s hall unmolested.

  Looking at Ceolwen Eirik asked “Have you everything you need?”

  “Yes master, if the injured are savable then I have everything I can think of to treat them.”

  “Good, then you’d better go,” Eirik pointed at Sophie, “keep your tongue under control and do what you can. Obey Leif as if he were me.”

  “Yes master.”

  Eirik grinned “You see it is not so hard.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him but kept quiet and as Leif stood up, opened the door and held it for him and Ceolwen whose hands were full with a sack and the basket. Outside the house she took the basket off her and they followed Leif into the city and towards Ubbe’s hall. She had only been in the city in the evening when work for the day was finished but now it was all noise and bustle. Warriors were sitting sharpening their swords and axes and a Saxon blacksmith was shoeing a horse. Slaves were busy going about their master’s business and the smell was eye watering.

  Inside the hall all was quiet, compared to the noise usual in the evening, apart from the moans of men badly injured and finding no ease. Some warriors were doing what they could for their comrades and slaves were fetching ale for the men to drink, but no one was trying to repair the damage done to flesh and bone. As they hesitated in the doorway Ubbe saw them and waved them to him.

  “We have seven men with severe injuries, do what you can to help them. One is, I think too far gone to help so concentrate on those you can help.”

  “Yes lord” Sophie said bowing her head, then she turned to Ceolwen, “let’s assess their injuries, you know more than me so we’ll do it together.”

  Ceolwen took two sacking aprons from the sack “Here put this on to protect your clothes.”

  They worked quickly, checking each man, then deciding who to treat first. Finally at the side of the hall they found the boy Rolf, in a deep fever and it was him who was filling the hall with moans and gabbled words. His right arm was bound with a filthy blood stained bandage and when Ceolwen removed it, even she recoiled in horror. A flap of thick flesh fell away from the top of his arm to his elbow, attached only at the elbow end, the wound was full of pus and smelled bad. However the pus was clear and Sophie didn’t think it was gangrenous yet, so she set about trying to help him.

  Ceolwen started with the next most badly injured and left Sophie to it, saying that the boy was past saving. Determined to try, Sophie called two slaves over, instructing them to strip Rolf of all his clothes and fetch cold water. He was burning up and she knew that she had to get his temperature down or he would die. When he was naked she laid a cloth over his genitals and and instructed the slaves to cool him with cold wet cloths, then she set about cleaning his wound. It hadn’t gone as deep as Eirik’s, the blow having sliced down his arm removing layers of skin and fat, and he hadn’t lost a lot of blood but the dirt and fabric in the wound had caused it to become infected. Luckily he was unconscious so she cou
ld really dig about in it and get all the fabric out. She only knew the basics of first aid but did know that dirt in a wound was bad. She used the Danes simple antiseptic of leeks and garlic in wine to clean it as best she could then she closed the flap and stitched it into place.

  Leaving the slaves to carry on cooling Rolf’s body she went to help Ceolwen and they worked for the rest of the day cleaning and either stitching or cauterising wounds. Luckily the Danes had opiates they had purchased from the East so the men with extremely painful injuries could be drugged until they slept.

  Towards evening the wounded were moved to one side of the hall and wall hangings were hung to give them some privacy as the tables were brought in for the nattmal. Rolf’s body was cooler and they’d manages to get some soothing herbs and opiate into him in a lucid moment, and he was now in a deep, hopefully restoring sleep. Sophie was sitting next to him laying cooling rags on his body and forehead when Ubbe appeared beside her.

  “How does he?” he asked.

  “Well his wound is cleaned, his fever is reduced and he’s out of pain, we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Ubbe towered over her, then placing a finger against her cheek he trailed it down over her throat to Eirik’s collar.

  “You are an amazing woman, beautiful, clever and sensual. I’ve a mind to buy you from Eirik.”

  Leif who had been talking to Ceolwen when Ubbe appeared was watching in concern. Eirik had worried that a warrior, who did not know that Sophie belonged to him, would try his luck with her, but Ubbe was a different matter. His father was a king and Ubbe his favourite son and Leif dare not interfere as he knew that Ubbe would kill him, without any questions being asked. So he did the only thing he could, he went for Eirik.

  Sophie realised what a precarious situation she was in and cast about for an idea to deal with him. Standing up she said “Lord, I am honoured that you think me clever. I only do what I saw a doctor do in my land. What you do with me is between you and my master, I know I have no say in the matter.”

  Ubbe pulled her against him, his hard body showing that he was aroused at the thought of taking her. She didn’t resist and he frowned, “I had heard that you are a firebrand, fight me slave, kick, scratch as the warriors say you did when Eirik found you.”