“I know now that I’m too weak to fight you, my only defence is to let you do what you will with me and feel nothing.” Sophie closed her eyes and put a martyred expression on her face.
At that moment the wall hanging was pulled back and Eirik stood there, pale faced and panting, but with his hand on his sword. He took in the scene and growled, “Lord, you forget yourself, I haven’t agreed to share my bed slave.”
Ubbe freed her and laughed “You have tamed her too much, Eirik, she’s just another mewling woman. I had thought to pay you well for her but she is too cold for my tastes. Even simple Els-wythe puts up more of a fight.
Eirik frowned, surprised that she hadn’t tried to fight. Looking at her he said “Perhaps I have broken her in too harshly, but she serves her purpose. I do enough fighting against the Saxons to want a fight when I hump a woman.”
Sophie stood with her eyes down not daring to say or do anything to give the lie to how Ubbe thought of her. Rolf groaned and she turned back to him laying another cold rag on his head.
“How is he? I didn’t know that Rolf had been injured.” Eirik said.
“He’s better than he was, if only his fever would break I’d say he’d have a good chance of recovery.” Sophie told him.
Leif, who was standing behind Eirik looking relieved said “He was injured in the first seconds of the attack, as you were but he passed out and we didn’t find him until the fight was over. The top of his arm was hanging on a flap of skin so we bound it back into place, to get him back. We didn’t know that you were injured as you kept on fighting and issuing orders.”
Ubbe laughed and slapped Eirik on his good shoulder, the blow making him grunt “My Merkismathre doesn’t let a little sword thrust slow him down.”
The gong sounded to bring the Danes to nattmal and Ubbe continued “Now that you are here Eirik you might as well eat with us.”
Sophie opened her mouth to protest but shut it again when Eirik glared at her and said “Yes lord, we’ll eat here. Sophie wash, then join Beald-wine on his table.” when she looked at Rolf and went to argue he growled in a low voice “Do as you’re told slave.”
She knew she’d better obey him when he used that tone so she called a slave over and instructed her to keep on cooling Rolf’s body and to fetch her if she was worried.
Eirik was ordering Ceolwen to eat too, although she did argue saying she was alright where she was.
Once again Eirik growled and tightening her lips she did as she was told. After washing their hands Sophie led her to Beald-wine’s table and another stool was brought for her. When Wulf-pryor and Els-wythe joined them they looked at Ceolwen with interest.
“You are Thegn Eirik’s healer aren’t you?” Els-wythe asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ve never seen you eat here before.”
“No I usually eat at my house in the village.”
“Why?”
“Because I like my own company, hate the Danes and I have a young son.”
“A Dane’s byblow?”
“No, my Saxon husband’s son.”
“Is he a slave too then?” Els-wythe was so stupid she didn’t realise that Ceolwen was sick of her questions.
“No, he’s dead, killed by the Danes. Now will you shut up so I can eat?”
“Oh!” Els-wythe pulled a face but thankfully did shut up and they helped themselves to the food and settled down to eat, As soon as Sophie had eaten she whispered to Ceolwen “I’m going to see how Rofl is. Do you want to come?”
“Yes please.” Ceolwen said gratefully only too happy to get away from Els-wythe.
As she went to stand up Wulf-pryor stood and whispered in her ear and to Sophie’s surprise Ceolwen nodded and said “Come to my cottage tomorrow, I’ll have it ready, make sure you bring payment.”
Wulf-pryor nodded and sat down again, Ceolwen joined Sophie and they slipped through the wall hangings. When they reached Rolf’s side he was twisting and turning on the bed, mumbling to himself, still in the grip of the fever.
“Let’s see if we can get some more of the wine into him.” Sophie said, picking up the jug of wine they’d treated with the herbs and opiate. “You two hold him up,” she said to the slaves who she’d left him with, and with Ceolwen holding his head she carefully spooned some wine between his lips. He swallowed and his eyes opened. “Am I in Valhalla?” he asked.
“No Rolf, you are still with us on Earth, you’re not going to die, so rest and you’ll feel better,” she said smiling kindly at him.
“My sword, my sword,” was all he managed to say before the darkness claimed him again.
As she lay him down, Eirik came through the wall hanging. “How is he?” he asked.
“Still delirious, he asked for his sword.”
“Ah, I’ll find it for him, he may rest better if it is by his side.” Eirik said.
“What if he stabs one of us in his delirium?” Sophie asked, “he’s safe here and doesn’t need a weapon.”
“If he is dying he does. Without it he won’t get into Valhalla.” Eirik growled as he went in search of it.
Sophie shook her head at the stupidity of men, while Ceolwen shrugged and went to check on the other’s who’d been injured.
When Eirik came back with the sword, Sophie could see that he was feeling weak from his wound and was torn between taking him back to his house and seeing to his injury or staying with Rolf until his fever broke. Ceolwen came back to her side and said “The others are all fine, so if you want to go with Eirik, I’ll stay and keep an eye on the boy. I can doze by his side so that if he needs help I’ll be here. Just please make sure that Caena has eaten and is not worried or frightened.”
“If you’re sure, and of course I’ll look after Caena.” Sophie got up and went to Eirik.
As she put an arm around his waist he put his right arm across her shoulders and walking as if his wound was causing him trouble took his leave of Ubbe and left the hall. As soon as they were free of the city Eirik walked more steadily saying “Ubbe would not have let me leave if he knew I was feeling better. He’d have me gambling in the hope that he’d win you.”
“But he doesn’t want me, I’m too submissive for him. He likes a woman to fight him.”
“Mmm, too submissive eh! But he doesn’t want you as a bed slave, he want’s you as a healer. He thinks the fact that I have two isn’t fair.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe he’ll take Ceolwen instead of you,” Eirik said seemingly uncaring.
“You can’t let him have her, and what about her son?”
“I can do what I want with a slave,” Eirik growled,” and Caena is a pretty boy, some would pay well for him.”
Sophie stopped dead, taking her arm from his waist she faced him and said “No, you can’t do that.” Then she noticed that his eyes were laughing at her and she slapped his good arm and turning her back on him hurried home.
He caught up with her when they reached his house and as she opened the door he grabbed her around her waist with one hand and pulled her back to him.
“Ubbe thinks you are a mewling woman, do I need to give you any more training in how to respect your master?”
Then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, and she melted into his arms. When he was satisfied that he’d tamed her sufficiently he let go of her and said “It is fortuitous for you that I have been wounded just as you have your monthly flow. When I have regained my strength I’ll teach you what your mouth is for, in case you don’t start breeding and you bleed again next month.”
***
The next few days passed quickly as Sophie and Ceolwen were kept busy caring for the injured. In any of the time they had free, Ceolwen showed her how to brew tinctures from different herbs and tried some of the suggestions to improve them that Soph
ie remembered from her interest in homeopathy.
She had been at Ceolwen’s shack when Wulf-pryor turned up for the herbs she had asked for and when she’d paid for them and left, she asked Ceolwen what she had given her.
“Tansy and pennyroyal.”
“What is it used for?”
“It’s to make sure that a woman’s monthly flow comes, to prevent breeding.”
“Oh, is it safe?” Sophie asked wondering if she could use it.
“It’s very poisonous if used wrongly but mixed right and brewed right, two cups taken at the right time ensures no breeding. I thought that you probably knew that as you are not breeding.”
“No I’d no idea, but would like to use it in future.” Sophie knew that if she had Eirik’s child she could never find her way back home.
“If you had Eirik’s son he would care for you and the child. You’d be safer because even if he tired of you he’d never sell you or his son.”
“I know and in the future I may want a child with him, but not while this life is so strange to me.”
“Fair enough, I’ll have it ready for you when you need it.”
“Thank you, is there anything else that needs doing?”
“The only thing I’m short of are pots, I ask people to return them to me but not many do, so I desperately need some more.”
“Yes, I remember you said that you don’t like making them. I’ll do it and while they are drying we could make a kiln to fire them, hotter than you’ve been able to on an open fire. Of course any that you want to cook in will be better fired cooler as the harder they are the easier they crack on an open flame.”
The clay that Ceolwen had was coarser than Sophie was used to, and had impurities in it so she had to work on removing them and making the remaining clay smoother. So many of Ceolwen’s pots had cracked because of the impurities and as Sophie explained this to her she helped ‘’pugg’ the clay until it was smoother and moulded better.
“I understand now why I was having trouble. The potters who lived here were all killed by the Danes,but even before that they wouldn’t impart their knowledge to others.” Ceolwen complained.
“Well I suppose it’s understandable,” Sophie said pushing a piece of hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand, “you wouldn’t tell them how you made your potions would you?”
“No it’s true, but how did you learn?”
“Oh I had a friend who made pots and she showed me how,” Sophie prevaricated.
By late afternoon they had a batch of smooth terracotta clay and both were filthy and exhausted. Swilling her hands and face in a bucket Sophie said “I must go, Eirik will be back. He went to see that his horse was alright and that Rolf and the other men were doing well.”
“It’s a miracle that Rolf survived, when his fever broke in the night and he asked for a drink, I was surprised.”
“All he needs now is good food and rest. I think they were going to move him to Leif’s house because the hall is always so busy and noisy.”
“So Leif is the same as Eirik, likes his privacy,” Ceolwen commented “has he got a slave to care for him?”
Sophie knew that she had liked Leif, although she’d never admit it, so she grinned and said “No he hasn’t. He eats at Ubbe’s hall and washes his own clothes occasionally, he doesn’t seem to bother with women.”
“Perhaps he has a wife somewhere that he loves.”
“I don’t know but I could ask Eirik.”
“Oh don’t bother, who cares? Certainly not me.” Ceolwen said offhandedly.
“I’d better hurry or I’ll be in trouble. I have to change for the nattmal, can’t go to Ubbe’s hall covered in clay. I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow.” And with that Sophie hurried back to Eirik’s house.
He’d just arrived back and was washing his hands and face as she rushed into the shack. He had his tunic off and even with bandages around his shoulder looked stunning. The muscles in his chest and abdomen were rock hard and with his strong jawline, ice blue eyes and dirty blonde hair he was the epitome of a Greek statue. As she hurried in he looked up at her and said “Just in time, I was beginning to wonder where you were.”
“Sorry, I was at Ceolwen’s, I’m going to make some pots for her and was getting the clay ready. Tomorrow I’m going to try and build her a kiln, if that’s alright with you master.”
“Tomorrow is Laurday, we’ll wash in the morning and didn’t you say you might cut a few of these damn itchy stitches out?”
“Mmm, yes if the wound is healing. Well I could go to Ceolwen’s in the afternoon couldn’t I, that’s if you don’t mind.”
“After we wash there maybe another pressing matter to take care of.” He looked at her meaningfully, then laughed at the blush that rose so quickly she couldn’t hide it. “It’s been many days since I humped you and my sacks are full and uncomfortable.”
As he moved around the table towards her she swallowed at the look in his eye. When he reached her he pulled her into his arms and held her tight against his body.
“If your monthly flow has not ended by tomorrow there are lessons you need to learn about how to keep your master happy.” Then he lowered his mouth and kissed her, his lips commanding and demanding as his tongue made his desire clear.
Releasing her he went on “Wash and change, then we’ll visit Rolf before we go to nattmal. He is comfortable at Leif’s and I have borrowed a slave from Ubbe’s hall to care for him, but I would like you to make sure all is well with his wound after we moved him.”
“Of course” Sophie said as she washed quickly and cleaned her teeth with a chalk based powder Ceolwen had given her. She’d also made a mouthwash from mint and rosemary and Eirik had started using it as well as the twigs the Danes used on their teeth. As she undid her plait and combed through her hair she was unsurprised to find bits of clay in it, as she hadn’t managed to keep clay out of her hair even in the twenty first century either.
As soon as her hair was plaited and she had her dresses on, they walked to Leif’s house to see Rolf. The tiny turf roofed shack had been built with many others after the Saxons homes had been pillaged and burnt to the ground when the Danes first attacked, only Eirik’s house and two others having survived, but it was warm and a simple chimney took the smoke, from the small fire in the corner, away. Rolf was on a new straw mattress covered in furs and although the move had tired him he was comfortable with no trace of the fever left.
Sophie took the bandage off his arm and inspected the wound, it was angry and sore looking and Rolf hissed as she pressed it but it was clean and had no smell. Cleaning it again with the garlic and leek mixture she declared herself pleased with it then she bandaged it again saying “Now all you have to do is rest, don’t move your arm too quickly and eat well.”
Leaning back on the furs with relief he said, “thank you, I’ll do as you say.”
Turning to the slave who was looking after him she said “Feed him the broth Alta prepared for him, then give him some of the wine and let him sleep.” The woman nodded her head and went outside to heat the broth. Leif had been washing as Sophie saw to Rolf and although not as large as Eirik he was still a fine figure of a man. He had tattoos across his shoulders and down his arms, of mystical creatures and strange shapes. Eirik saw her looking at them and asked her if she admired them.
“They are unusual” she said, “I didn’t know that you Danes used tattoos.”
“Some of us do, in the same way that some file their teeth and others have elaborate hairstyles. We Danes take a pride in our appearance.”
As soon as Leif was ready they set off to Ubbe’s hall for the nattmal; to Sophie’s surprise Wulf-pryor was waiting outside for her. “Can I speak to you before we go in to eat?” she asked.
Sophie asked Eirik if she could speak to Wulf-pryor before she went ins
ide, and he gave her permission to do so, then carried on into the hall with Leif.
“What is it?”
Wulf-pryor bit her lip “Um, you know the herbs I bought from Ceolwen, you won’t tell Eirik about them will you?”
“No of course not. Ceolwen told me what they were for and I sympathise with you.”
“It isn’t as if Ubbe would want a child with me, to him I’m nothing and a child of mine would be the same.”
“I know, I understand, don’t worry I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“Thank you, my life would be forfeit if Ubbe found out I’m avoiding getting pregnant. He thinks I’m barren as he has lots of bastards and two children by his wife.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve told you, I’ve forgotten about it already. Come on let’s go and eat.”
As they took their places Sophie noticed that Els-wythe wasn’t there and asked Wulf-pryor if she was ill.
“Well if you call two black eyes and a split lip ill, then yes she is.”
“Oh, what happened?” Sophie asked although she thought that she probably knew the answer.
“She objected to something Ubbe did and he hit her.”
“Oh!”
“Mmm, his games get viler by the week.”
“What about you?”
“I am used to his demands and never say no. If I manage to drink enough I don’t even remember what he did to me,” Wulf-pryor said sadly. “I live for the day that he dies.”
Sophie shook her head as she felt the tears filling her eyes, but she couldn’t speak. She knew that she was lucky to have fallen into Eirik’s hands but what of the future? What if he was killed? She could end up with someone like Ubbe.
When she joined Eirik after she’d eaten he was talking seriously in Norse with Ivor and Ubbe and other than indicating that she should sit next to him left her to her thoughts. To her surprise instead of staying to gamble he took his leave of Ubbe as soon as their discussion was over and taking her arm led her from the hall. He was silent and deep in thought on their way home and on reaching his house he sat at the table and poured himself a mug of ale. Finally he said “I have persuaded Ubbe that now winter is upon us, it is an ideal time for me to visit my farm, so as soon as my wound is healed we will travel north to Jorvik.”
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