I didn’t answer. Instead I shot her a sort of smile that showed her I understood, but was not ready to talk yet. Lucky for me, she was much like Tonya and didn’t need a second person to have a full conversation.
“Because that’s a child’s size. Hope it fits. Might be a little short, but there’s nothing like flashing a little ankle to catch a man’s eye. Though Viggo’s spoken for, just so you know.”
I raised my eyebrow as I kicked my shoes and jeans off, wishing for a little privacy, but knowing I’d get none. I tried working off my shirt, but my ribs were too badly bruised to allow for much movement.
Erika helped extract me from my shirt and gasped. I covered myself as best I could, but there was no point.
“Nøkkendalig!” she exclaimed. Then her arms were around me in a hug so fierce, it nearly made me break my vow of silence just to get her off my sore ribs.
She realized her mistake and released me. “Does Master Foss know? I’ll tell him straight away. The doctor’s coming to look at Prince Jamie, so he can examine you while he’s here.” She helped me into the tub with great care, for which I was grateful. “So, what happened? How’d you escape? Who was your master before?”
Visions of Nik saving me in the water from the Nøkkendalig flooded my brain, only to be stamped out by images of his broken and bloody body on the shore after he destroyed his people’s portal.
I shook my head at Erika. Nope. Wasn’t ready to talk about it.
“What’s Prince Jamie like?” she asked girlishly. She looked to be barely twenty. She had tanned skin and her long black braids hung around her head like tassels, swishing from side to side when she talked animatedly.
I shrugged in answer. What could you really say about Jamie? Nice guy. Prince. Lost his best friend and his sort of fiancée and was stuck with me for life. Lucky guy.
Erika took the soap and started washing my arm. The sweetness of the gesture endeared me to her. Then it dawned on me she probably thought I was mentally challenged or something. I probably looked like a wild animal. No speech, weird clothes, dirty as all get-out, and could barely move without wincing.
“You’re lucky Master Foss bought you. You have no idea how bad some of the other masters are. We’ve got it great here. He feeds us well, doesn’t take any of us against our will, and doesn’t give us too much that we can’t handle. You should hear some of Viggo’s stories from his time with his old master. Trust me. You may not know it yet, but it’s a good thing Master Foss found you.”
I wanted to vomit, but my stomach was empty. Yeah, Foss was a real peach. Thank my lucky stars the man who hates me and pushes me around now owns the deed to my life.
Erika washed me until I took the soap from her and finished up. I dried off and stepped into the dress, which Erika helped fasten for me. The brown hem fell just below my knees. Erika’s was to her toes. I’m guessing this was a big deal because Erika giggled at my pale shins. “It’ll have to do. It’s either this or something like my size, which would just fall right off you.” Erika was the standard six and a half feet tall with a curvy figure like Marilyn Monroe.
Sure, I’ll wear a child’s dress. Why not? My life’s pretty much maxed out as far as humiliation goes.
Erika led me around the grounds, and despite my aching ribs, I was able to walk mostly upright so long as I held onto my side. She introduced me to around seven dozen slaves, who greeted me with genuine and reassuring smiles I did not understand. They were enslaved, and yet they seemed fine with their lot in life.
“Viggo!” Erika called when we returned to the ranch. “Where’s Guldy supposed to be working?”
Viggo came from Jamie’s room and looked me over in my new digs, smiling at my shins as Erika had. “Master didn’t say. She’s too small and pale to be of use outside. Maybe in the kitchen? House slave? Keep her with you for now. Master’s hosting guests tomorrow, so Brenda’s going to need extra hands in the kitchen.”
“Oo! Anyone important?”
“Only the chief, Master Olaf and Tomas of the Hills.”
Olaf? Probably a pretty common name.
This was apparently good news, because Erika clapped her hands together like a schoolgirl and let out a high-pitched squeal.
I missed Tonya.
“There’s always a big feast when the chief comes to visit. There’s dancing and singing. You’ll love it. Perfect welcome to your new home.” Erika took me to the flour-dusted kitchen and introduced me to a bossy woman named Brenda.
Big-boobs Brenda was no one to be trifled with. While she accepted my muteness as a blessing, since I would not talk back to her, she did not love my inexperience with de-feathering a chicken.
I held tight to my vow of not crying on Foss’s property, but there were a few touch and go moments. I was beginning to understand why my mother had always been a resolute vegetarian as I plucked each feather from the poor bird’s skin.
Brenda’s hand flew out and slapped me upside the back of my head. “You take too long! You’re being stupid on purpose. Give me the chicken. Just what we need, another one like Kirstie. Pretty and useless.” She yanked the bird from me and ripped out a quarter of the feathers in one go. She shoved it back onto the cutting board. “Now you do it.”
I gulped and ripped, hating myself and silently apologizing to the chicken. Brenda picked up my hand and examined the size, shaking her head at my uselessness. “There are five more when you’re done with that one. If you want to eat before nightfall, you’ll have those in the oven before I finish with the bread.”
Erika rolled her eyes behind Brenda’s back. “Kirstie’s the master’s favorite. Of all the women, he takes her to his bed most often, and she never lets us forget it.”
“Just because she’s useful in the bedroom doesn’t mean she should be allowed to neglect the other rooms.” Brenda punched and kneaded the dough as if it offended her, her enormous breasts swaying with each whack. Her red face was sweaty, but her gusto was never compromised. I finished plucking the poor chickens too slow for her liking, but she didn’t hit me again for it, so I guessed I hadn’t failed too badly.
She handed me a cleaver with some level of expectation, but for all my youthful experience, I’d never deboned a chicken. Erika barked at Brenda when Brenda smacked me over the head again.
I was really beginning to like that girl.
Erika took the cleaver from me and hacked the bird down the middle, demonstrating what I was supposed to be doing.
“What do you want from her? She’s obviously not right in the head, Brenda. She just escaped the Nøkkendalig.”
Brenda and two other women nearby gasped. “The Nøkkendalig?” Brenda looked at me with new light. I was not useless. I’d somehow escaped the men that drove fear into the hearts of all women. “How did you get away?”
I swallowed my self-loathing, took the cleaver and slammed it down hard on the naked bird as Erika had done by way of an answer.
Brenda took a step back from the obviously unbalanced girl. “Are you Mare?”
I shook my head and finished deboning the chicken in front of me, and then moved on to the next. The women fired their questions at me, but I would not answer.
Seven.
Hulk, Smash!
The doctor came to examine Jamie’s ribs, and Erika beckoned him to look at mine. She showed me to a room and made to leave me with the man, but I held onto her hand and shook my head. The physician looked nice enough, but for some odd reason, I didn’t have any trust left for him.
Erika understood and sat on the bed with me, holding my hand and running her fingers over my arm as the doctor moved my dress so he could examine the wound.
“Huh. The exact same as the prince’s,” he mused. “Plus a run-in with the Nøkkendalig?” He gave me a nod of appreciation as he fingered my sore ribs. “Well, it looks like you won’t be held back by a few bumps. Nothing’s broken, so you’ll be okay in a few days. Try not to use this side until you’re feeling better.” He looked inside my mo
uth and in my eyes. “See she gets some water. Some food. Whoever owned her before Master Foss didn’t take very good care of her. I don’t know what accounts for her stature other than malnutrition.”
Erika nodded. “I’ll tell Master Foss first thing.”
Though he’d just seen my bare torso, he looked at my shins with pink cheeks as Erika buttoned me back up. “See she also gets some decent clothes. Master Olaf and his men are coming to visit tomorrow night, I hear. Best not be flaunting her in her damaged state.”
“Of course,” Erika agreed gravely. When the doctor left, she helped me off the bed. “The men here won’t do anything you don’t want, but Master Olaf isn’t as strict about that sort of thing as Master Foss. With hair like yours, you’re very fortunate Master Foss found you first.”
If I made it out of this ordeal a virgin, I would thank my lucky stars. One day years from now, I would process all of this and freak out accordingly. For now survival was key, and to survive, I needed not to think too long on the horrors of the day.
I wanted to go into Jamie’s room and hide, but there was work to be done. Whenever I checked in on him through our bond, he was in the throes of anxiety over Britta and Jens. I wasn’t ready to feel that.
“It’s your first day here, and the doctor said not to use your ribs too much,” Erika argued when I followed her back into the kitchen. “Go rest. No one expects you to jump right in on your first day.”
Brenda looked very much like she wished to argue this point, but out of respect for the handprints that were still scarring my body, she stayed her tongue. I made my opinion clear by picking up a dish in the sink and washing it out. Maybe I couldn’t pluck a chicken, but I could definitely wash a dish. If I could be Queen Lucy, I could sure as smack be Slave Lucy with just as much dignity. Suck it, Foss.
“Is that her?” a feminine voice asked with unveiled disgust, hands on her generous hips.
“No, this is the roast duck Master Foss brought home. You can see it’s a new girl.” Erika’s snotty tone almost made me smile. I did not look up from my task to greet the new person.
“I thought Viggo said Master Foss bought a woman for the house. She can’t be older than twelve.”
With an obvious lack of fanfare, Erika droned to me, “Guldy, this is Kirstie.”
Kirstie moved to where I could see her if I looked up, but I was intent on keeping my eyes on the dishes. In my periphery, I could see she was curvy with thick lips and a pinched nose. Her black hair was partway pulled back, but some was left down to sway as she moved. She sized me up to see how much competition I presented. “I’m Master Foss’s bedslave,” she bragged. That was her tone, at least. Why she would brag about that was beyond me. “His only bedslave.”
Message received. You’ve got the burnin’ loins for Foss. I wanted to laugh in her face at the stupid thing she felt the need to stake her claim on, but I kept my head down. She lost interest after a few more minutes of prodding for information I would not give.
The house filled with the scents of freshly baked bread and roasted chicken as the day wore on. Erika showed me how to hand wash the clothes, how to beat out the rugs and how to change the linens throughout the house. She introduced me around and acted as my own personal mouthpiece, which was fortunate since I was bent on not speaking.
Dinner was a strange affair. There were two tables, one for the slaves and one for the real people. Foss sat at his table, and then motioned for Kirstie to join him. It was clearly a position of honor, and her bountiful hips swayed as she made her way to his side, kissing his cheek before taking her seat.
Jamie was holed up in his room still. I began to appreciate how great a guy he was that he didn’t throw his royalty card around and make it seem like the mere act of eating with him was a privilege.
Though the tables were separate, the servants were not afraid to converse with their master. In fact, they were not afraid of him at all, but held an admiring respect for him. He was served his meal first and asked to tell stories of his journey to Tonttu.
Foss was certainly less surly than he’d been on the trip. He kept the details of the mission to himself, instead spinning it as a personal invitation to dine with Prince Jamie, and in return show the prince the Isle of Fossegrim.
I stared at my plate as he spoke, clanking my silverware so it appeared I was eating. The water could not be resisted, though. I tried to remain firm in my no eating or drinking policy, but my mouth was the Sahara, so I downed my water and felt it splash around my hollow stomach.
Everyone was glad to have their head of the household home, but I wanted out. I wanted a real bed. I wanted normal things and a life where I could look men in the eye without getting backhanded. I wanted out of this stupid mission. There was a part of me that resented Uncle Rick for putting me in this position, knowing that my own father never would have put me in such danger over and over again. I began to understand that Uncle Rick loved me only as much as he was capable of it, which was, well, not enough. I was a tool to be used for his greater purpose. Although I now shared his goal, I resented him for putting me in harm’s way. For not loving me more than his mission. No wonder Mace always looked so lonely.
A few of the servants tried to draw me into conversation. I nodded along when appropriate, but said nothing. Throughout the course of the meal, they began to accept that I was mute, shifting prods for conversation to simple yes and no questions.
The men at the table didn’t feel as dangerous as Foss or the evil smackholes who frequented the slave trade, but their eyes on me were not indifferent, either. I shrank as much as I could and kept my head down so as not to encourage any advances I could tell were on the horizon.
I felt eyes on me, but it was not the familiar feeling of Jens. I kept my head down and fiddled with my fork some more, ignoring the heat coming from Foss’s direction. I wanted to flip him the bird and snap at him for staring, but I maintained my stoic silence.
When dinner was over, I set to work in the kitchen doing the dishes. Brenda closed down the kitchen alongside me, and I could tell she was grateful that I helped without being asked or told what to do.
Everyone else was bathing and getting ready for bed when Erika came to fetch me. “I put your mat next to mine. If Viggo comes to sleep next to me in the night, don’t be afraid.” Erika led me toward the back door, but Foss called out from his room to her.
“Erika, bring me the new one. She’ll share my bed tonight.”
My skin crawled with such disgust, it was a wonder I didn’t ralph all over the wood floor.
“Yes, Master Foss!” Erika turned to me with junior high-like excitement on her face that I’d been chosen for a prom date by the hot senior (which, incidentally, had never happened to me). “It’s a big honor, Guldy. Master Foss usually only takes Kirstie into his bed. Oh, that’ll teach her to lord her position over us!” Erika hugged me, ignoring my stiffness.
I shook my head vehemently, motioning that I wanted to go with her.
Erika frowned. “But you can’t turn down the master. No one turns him down.”
Images that terrified me to my very soul were conjured up of me in Foss’s bedroom. I wanted nothing to do with him or that room. I continued to shake my head. When she looked even more confused by my opinion, I walked in the opposite direction of Foss toward the shed where the servants slept. He’d bought me as a slave, and I’d sleep with the slaves. Let him explain that to my uncle.
Viggo and Erika ran out to me just as I reached the shed. “Wait, Guldy. Did you not understand?” Poor Viggo still thought I was slow in the head. “Master Foss has chosen you to warm his bed tonight.”
Aw, barf. Now there’s that image in my brain. I shook my head and pointed to the shed, walking inside to find an empty mat among the servants. I laid down with my back to the wall so I could make sure no one came at me from behind.
Viggo scratched his head and made his way over to me while Erika twisted her hands in excitement. Viggo knelt by my head and
spoke softly. “If the master requires you, you must go.”
I clung to my mat as if my life depended on it, shaking my head adamantly.
“Are you a maiden?” he asked delicately.
I buried my face in my mat to escape him and that question. I liked the fact that I was virgin, don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t enjoy my business being the topic of conversation.
Erika shook her head. “She can’t be. She’s been attacked by the Nøkkendalig.”
“Ah.” Viggo nodded in understanding. “It won’t be like that.”
Just then, the door to the shed burst open, and I half expected Foss to shout, “Hulk, smash!” Instead he bellowed, “Lucy, I told you to come here!”
When I only clung to my mat harder, he stomped through the shed, parting his servants like the Red Sea. They scattered out of his way, clearly confused at seeing their master so angry, and a slave so rebellious. He snatched me up and carried me out of the shed over his shoulder.
Oh, I wanted to beat on him. I wanted to pound my fists into his back or his kidneys or spine or whatever would hurt the most that I could reach. I knew if I did strike him, his retaliating blow would be far worse. He carried me past Kirstie, who was red and fuming that she had been dethroned by someone who clearly did not want the post.
Foss dumped me on the floor of his bedroom from his staggering height of seven feet. When I slammed down, my ribs jarred anew. I let out a single cry before stapling my lips together. I scrambled on my hands and knees toward the door, but he slammed it shut. “Stop it, Lucy. You’ll stay in here tonight.”
I clutched my knees to my chest, crossed an arm over my breasts and shook my head. The romantic fireplace. The let’s-get-it-on bed with crimson sheets that took up a third of the room. Panic rose in me as I clutched the hem of my dress and tugged it downward.
Foss held up his hands with a look of disgust. “No, no. I won’t touch you, I promise. When Alrik catches up to us, I don’t want him to find out I made you sleep with the slaves. My men probably wouldn’t try anything, but you’ll be safer in here.”
Fossegrim Page 3
