Fossegrim

by Mary E. Twomey

  Foss stared me down, unwilling to let our truce break so quickly. “Play your part, Lucy. This is how you can be useful to the team, so do your job. Smile at my guests and keep the Gar coming. Pretend you’re madly in love with me, and we’ll get out of here with no one the wiser.” He eyed his ring on me with an unfathomable expression. “Don’t worry. That ring won’t be around your neck forever.”

  Eleven.

  Olaf’s Plan B

  I stood next to Jamie with the worst fake smile plastered on my face as a cavalcade of black horses arrived. Viggo and his men stabled the beasts in the freshly cleaned stalls as Foss greeted his guest of honor with a kiss to both cheeks. I was thrust toward the man, unable to attempt invisibility with so many eyes on me. The chief’s men eyed me appreciatively, but also with a note of confusion. Foss had gone into town to run an errand an hour ago, but I was glad he’d returned before his guests arrived. I didn’t feel confident enough to hold my own in this world.

  “You’ve taken a child for your bride?” the chief questioned Foss. He had long trimmed sideburns stretching down the sides of his face to his closely-shaved beard. It was cut to frame his thick lips. I guessed him to be somewhere smack in the middle of his forties.

  Foss postured. “She’s twenty. Her height’s the tradeoff for her hair.”

  Since apparently they’d not met any blondes before, they accepted this farce as truth. I was excused and all but ran to the kitchen, hiding myself in the mountains of dishes. I got halfway through the pots when Brenda and Erika came back from setting up the food outside on tables that had been brought out for the occasion.

  Brenda gasped at my damp sleeves. “No, Mistress! I was just getting to those pots. Out with you!”

  I turned to her and shook my head, my fear clearly displayed.

  Erika understood. “You’re hiding out?”

  I nodded, grateful for her once again. I put my hands over my hair to show her I didn’t want them to see me.

  Brenda cottoned on to my concern. “Very well. You can stay, but you can’t be seen doing housework. Master Foss would have my hide.” She brought in a chair from the dining room and pointed to it. “Have a seat.” Brenda took over where I left off with the dishes while Erika whisked cream in a bowl with some sugar. “Most of the master’s parties are a grand affair, but Master Olaf’s men are not of good quality. The women usually hide in here.” She let out a belly laugh, her enormous breasts shaking like jelly. “Men have no idea what to do in a kitchen, so it’s a safe place, indeed.”

  Erika laughed and I cracked a smile, glad that someone made a joke, and I understood it. I decided to hole up in the kitchen as long as I could.

  That timeframe was longer than I had hoped for, but an hour later when Kirstie came to fetch me for Foss, I still was not ready. Brenda noticed my trepidation and tapped me under my chin so I would stop focusing on the floor. “Now, now. They can smell the fear on you, so best not show them any. Go out, do as Master says, and when they’re all smashed, scamper on back to me. It’ll all be alright.”

  I threw decorum to the wind and wrapped my arms around Brenda, wishing my own mother was here to tell me everything would be fine.

  Brenda stiffened, and then chortled softly, patting my hair with unconcealed affection. “Run along, Guldy.”

  I smiled at the use of the nickname. I followed behind Kirstie, who grew frustrated at my lack of understanding of their culture. “You have to walk in front of me,” she ordered as we moved outside, the warm air doing nothing to relax my nerves. “Don’t you know anything? You’re the entertainment. Foss wants to show you off to the men.” With an evil laugh, she whispered in my ear, “Olaf’s got hands like leather and breath like death. Enjoy his eyes on you all night long.” She grabbed my arm and pushed me forward toward the lion’s den.

  The important men were sitting at a grand wooden table on a raised platform in between the house and the vineyard, while nearly three hundred servants all sat on the grass at a lowered table about knee-high. When I approached, Jamie stood, his gentlemanly manners foreign to this area. Foss raised his ornately carved cup to me and kicked the chair next to him out. What a sweet invitation.

  My heart froze along with the rest of my body when I saw one of the guests was none other than Gropey McGroperson, the man who considered buying me from my cage while sizing up my breasts. Bald head, scar down his right cheek, sweaty face, beady eyes and breath like the worst mixture of sewer and landfill were only a few of the things that made me cringe. I took my seat and kept my head down through Foss’s welcome toast to his guests, clutching Jamie’s hand under the table. Olaf made no indication we’d met before, though I could tell he remembered.

  The second Foss finished his grand greeting, Erika, Brenda, Kirstie and seven other women brought out the food on platters, serving us first, and then the servants below. The warm evening air crackled with the nearby bonfire as we ate root vegetables and beef. It was delicious. Though to be fair, my stomach was pretty starved, so it accepted with gratitude whatever I fed it. I shoveled food in my mouth as I did my best to hide behind Foss’s girth to shield me from Olaf’s view.

  There was lively chatter, and the three other guests of honor asked me several questions that thankfully all had yes or no answers.

  Tomas of the Hills had only a passing interest in me, for which I was grateful. His wife was also dressed in red. She’d smacked two servants across the face before she finished with her main course, so I decided we probably wouldn’t be besties anytime soon.

  Olaf belched loudly like a true Viking barbarian. He had a woman on his lap whose body he was very free with. She did not wear a red dress, so I guessed she was his Kirstie equivalent. “What a lucky man you are, Foss. To find her in the trade? I wish I’d known she was such a prize.”

  Foss grunted in response. He glanced over at me and noticed my extreme discomfort. His arm wrapped around my back drew me closer to whisper something in my ear. “This is me saying something to make you smile.” He waited a few seconds for my mouth to comply. “Now I’m being charming.” I pulled back and cast him a withering glance, which made him laugh in my face. It was rare he was genuinely entertained and let it show. He kissed my cheek, which is when I noticed he had beef juices on his chin that were now dampening my face. Sick. I picked up my cloth napkin and dabbed at his chin.

  He grabbed my wrist, freezing us both at the odd shift in our dynamic. The look he gave me stayed my disgust at his lack of basic table manners. It was confusion and a small dose of wonder mixed in that we silently communicated to each other. We shared a small half-smile, just enough of one to mingle together and make one whole positive expression. I threw caution to the wind, kissed my index finger and pressed it to his lips for the benefit of his guests. The hardness in his black eyes softened, and he drew my stool yet closer to his so I was pressed to his side.

  Foss was many things, most of them inappropriate to say in good company. But that night, we pretended to care about each other, allowing a mutual appreciation to begin to bloom. I put on my best adoring wife eyes, and he was kinder to me. His shoulders relaxed, and eventually I sunk into his side, trying to appear as if I had not a care in the world, thanks to my chieftain hubby. I finished the meal with his arm around me. To everyone at the feast, we passed ourselves off as a newlywed couple.

  The other three chiefs had either wives in red dresses or mistresses who sat next to them or on their laps as the men drank. I was happy to sink into the background, swallowed up in Foss’s side, but he was in the full swing of the moment. He pulled my stool between his legs and leaned me backward so my back rested against his solid chest that was much bigger than necessary.

  Two servants whose names escaped me began playing fiddles around the fire, then three more, and more after that until dozens of fiddles were singing and lifting the spirits of everyone in attendance. All the servants either clapped, snapped their fingers to the tune, or twirled around the fire under the dark night sky. They
were alive with the freedom that came with music, and that evening, lusty delight belonged to slave and the owner alike.

  I caught Brenda’s eye and motioned for her to get the head table another round of Gar.

  There was so much merriment, Foss forgot himself and kissed the back of my hand as we watched a few of the chief’s slaves put on a little dance show for us. He rested my fingers on his cheek and sighed contentedly when I began to stroke his jaw. He tickled the sensitive inside of my arm, relaxing me despite my surroundings. I wanted to question every move, but I was too comfortable. As dangerous as Foss was, I knew that he was the least of my problems. In this strange world, Foss was my safe place. It was a sad thought, but I did not stray from his side the entire dinner. He talked with the other chiefs, discussing commerce and the changing tides while lazily twirling a lock of my long hair around his thick finger. I knew Olaf was watching us, leering as if through a window. Wanting to steal, but unable to touch. I never thought I’d be super grateful for Foss, but that night I was.

  “Now, Olaf. You can see the girl’s spoken for,” the chief reprimanded with a tease in his tone when Olaf made his third crude joke about my body.

  “Yes, Dom,” Olaf replied, turning his focus back to his Gar.

  The chief was actually not too bad a guy. He seemed to be the most revered of the four powers, so when he asked me to dance, I guessed accurately that refusing him wasn’t an option.

  The chief was the standard Fossegrimen seven feet tall, wide-chested and tanned skin. I didn’t know the first thing about how to dance with someone his size. I wasn’t an excellent dancer to begin with, unless you count doing the Running Man, which didn’t seem appropriate to this joyful jig.

  I recalled one of Uncle Rick’s childhood lessons about the Fossegrim. They could persuade people with their fiddle music. I was grateful the merriment that was being suggested around me was not coercing me to behave like the women who started dancing on the tables. I guessed since I leaned more toward my human genetics than Undran, their magic didn’t work on me, just like Nik’s hadn’t.

  Nik. The second the hurt surfaced, I stuffed it back down. I glanced up to the head table and saw Jamie touching his chest, my pain slashing him by accident.

  I cast up an apologetic look to the chief for the terrible dancing that he was about to endure from my end. He held my hand and tipped his head in an impression of a gentleman. He seemed to understand and danced more slowly with me than the others swinging wildly around us.

  The chief was powerful, indeed. He did not dance to the music, but the music slowed for him. The merry ditty melted into a soft sway.

  “I never thought I’d see the day Foss would let a woman into his home and give her his signet ring. You must know how lucky you are.”

  I nodded, offering up a pleasant smile to conceal my grimace. He held my hand in our slow sway, and I could see small bits of silver glitter on his fingers and wrist. It was so uniquely decorative for the man who otherwise appeared a Viking; I didn’t know what to make of it.

  “I’m the power of the North, so officially I don’t have any favorites, but unofficially, I have a special eye for Foss and his affairs.” The shine in his eye mutated to a hint of a threat. “That you slipped onto his property without my knowledge is a great surprise to us all. I didn’t know Foss was looking for a wife. I had many I could have offered him, forming an even stronger alliance between the North and the East. What did you do to capture him so suddenly?”

  I managed not to get killed off yet, I thought bitterly. To answer him, I showed him my hand and made a fist, and then punched the fist to my chest, holding it there so he could see Foss and I were joined by something strong enough that an offer from a competing woman would not be considered.

  The chief mulled over my answer as we swayed. His trimmed sideburns were long, stretching to the bottom of his jaw, and moved with his face when he talked. “Foss is not a born power. He worked hard and fought his way up the ranks to become what he is now.” His look down at me suggested a warning. “It would be a shame if anything were to compromise that. A shame I wouldn’t hesitate to rectify by removing the problem and dumping it in the ocean.”

  I gulped and nodded, turning my face up to him so he could see that I wasn’t plotting anything evil against Foss. They had a sweet relationship, a sort of father-son thing. I didn’t want to do anything to wreck that.

  “That’s a good girl.”

  I could feel Foss staring at me, so I caught his eye and offered up an encouraging smile, letting him know all was well. He nodded, shoulders relaxing as he returned to his conversation with Tomas of the Hills.

  It was a small movement, so discreet I might not have caught it if I hadn’t been looking in that direction right then. The generous-breasted woman on Olaf’s lap leaned forward in a gusty laugh and sprinkled something into Foss’s drink.

  I gasped, stiffening in the chief’s grip, and tried to end our dance.

  “You’re finished with me already, Guldy? Well, that’s a first. I’ve never had a woman try to leave me alone when there was music about.”

  Afraid I might be beheaded for something stupid without warning, I communicated the fear I felt with a look of pleading for him to follow me to the table.

  The chief indulged me, only because he probably thought I was unbalanced and didn’t want to offend Foss by letting his crazy wife wander off.

  I pushed my way through the dancers and fiddlers to the head table, snatching the goblet from Foss just as he was reaching for it.

  Poison! Olaf’s girl poisoned Foss’s drink, Jamie! Say something!

  Foss’s stern expression that I’d publicly embarrassed him by taking away his Gar like a child shifted to fury when Jamie pointed his finger at the woman on Olaf’s lap. “Lucy saw Gerda poison your drink, Foss! Don’t touch it.”

  Olaf did a great show of being outraged at me, a woman taking a drink from one of the four powers. I trembled as he motioned for two of his men to come and take me away so the party could continue.

  I clung to the chief, fear muting the force of my determination that Foss should not drink from his cup. The chief held up his hand, and the fiddling stopped. The servants all fell to their knees where they stood in deference to their leader of leaders.

  “Your bedslave has been accused of poisoning the great power of the East. What say you, Olaf?”

  Sweat was pouring off the bald man, but he managed to keep his cool, sneering to cover over the fear I knew was there at getting caught. “I say the Guldy’s seeing things. She doesn’t speak. She clearly doesn’t understand our rules. Gerda was just refilling his cup. Being a good host while the Guldy was keeping you entertained.” There was a claw of malice and jealousy of Foss’s favoritism from the chief hidden behind every word. I knew Olaf was a danger to me, but seeing that he was a threat to Foss steeled my resolve.

  I gently tugged on the chief’s sleeve, bringing him down to my level so I could lean up on my toes and whisper in his ear. “I saw her put something in Foss’s cup. I don’t know what it is, but I’m guessing that’s not something you would let someone do to you.” I placed my other quaking hand on the chief’s bicep, and I could feel his body leaning in toward mine. “If all she did was refill his cup, then make her drink it in front of you. I don’t care about your rules. I won’t let Foss get hurt.” Then I pulled back and looked deep into the chief’s black eyes, seeing a person buried beneath the curse. I pressed my fist to my chest again, reminding him that Foss and I had a strong bond. “If you love Foss like I do, you should protect him.”

  The challenge in my tone could not be ignored. The chief answered my hard look with one of his own, and then postured. “What a fine idea. Gerda, finish Foss’s Gar.”

  Gerda looked positively ashen. “W-what? I’m sure I couldn’t disrespect one of the four powers by drinking from his cup. I’m not worthy.”

  Nicely played. I stood straighter and met Foss’s thunderstruck gaze. I nodded, letting him
know I was on the mark.

  Foss stood, handing his cup to Gerda and wrapping her fingers around it. Loud enough for everyone to hear, he said, “If my wife saw you poison my cup, then you will drink your medicine.” He addressed the sweaty Olaf, who vacillated between sick and fuming. “Olaf, you will control your woman. This is my house, and this is what I wish. If she did nothing, I’ll take my wife out back and flog her myself for her insolence.”

  I paled as I gripped the chief’s strong arm, hoping he might save me from this nightmare.

  Olaf appealed to the chief. “Dom! This is madness! Surely you don’t believe Gerda would do such a thing.”

  The chief placed his hand atop mine, assuring me that he knew I was spot on. “You’ll respect Master Foss, Gerda. Drink the cup if he orders it so. You’re on his property, so you’ll obey one of the four powers.”

  Olaf buried his face in his bedslave’s shoulder. “Drink it,” he commanded.

  “Master!” she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks at the betrayal. It was no doubt his idea that she’d carried out. I felt for the girl, but before I could come up with a plan that wouldn’t kill her, Foss and Olaf were pouring the drink down her throat.

  “My bedslave would never poison you,” Olaf challenged. “She respects the four powers and wouldn’t think to…”

  It was a thing of fortune the poison was fast-acting. It was as if Olaf knew his time to distance himself from the act was nigh and tumbled out as many words as possible to excuse himself from the crime and pose as an innocent bystander.

  Gerda choked as foam came up from her stomach and pushed out of her mouth, burning her lips as it fizzled and popped down her chin. She collapsed on the table between Foss and Olaf, twitching a few seconds before her body went limp.