In Thrall to the Viking

by M. E. Sháen

"I do not have a count of how many fighting men keep the city if that is what you ask."

  "What other towns?"

  I thought as I worked. What did I know of the town? I had only been there once.

  I worked the braid tight if not straight in my hands. "Not far beyond the cloister is a river that runs to many towns. The river opens to the sea not far west from where you made land."

  "A river? Do the people not attack one another there?"

  I laughed. "No. They do not consider a river useful for an attack. The ships are too," I leaned around him to make the shape of a hull with my hands. "Deep?"

  "The draft is too deep for a river?" He nodded. "My longships draft high, easy to maneuver up a river, easy to navigate such waters. We use them here for the purpose."

  I went back to braiding his hair. "Then you ought to take the river. The first town is called Thetford as you travel inland."

  "You can draw this?"

  "I think so, yes."

  "Good. You see, vixen, you have many uses."

  I tugged his hair lightly. "It is why you keep me, as you remind me always."

  "Draw a map for me this night. Perhaps, if there is a successful raid, you will earn coin of your own. One day to buy your freedom with."

  "You would allow me to buy my freedom?" The idea I might buy my way out shocked me. These Danes had strange rules and laws.

  "It is our way, vixen. You have not so many choices out of your status, but there are some."

  "The others?"

  He laughed. "With coin, as I said. Or you make a wife for some man who would put up with you. I think you're safest to earn your way."

  "You think no man would want me though you claim to?"

  "You create your own problems, vixen. You sass, you fight, you refuse your place, in short, you are not material of a wife."

  I snorted. "Why would I want to be some man's wife? It seems yet another way to be property."

  "You are a free woman as a wife."

  "A wife is not free, Halfdan of the Danes. Only men are truly free."

  He considered that as I worked, the silence between us lengthened in the growing twilight.

  "Do you accept children if one comes from the women you take?"

  I wrapped the final thong around his hair.

  He started, drawn from his thoughts by my question. "One has not yet. At least, not that I am aware."

  "Not an answer, Halfdan of the Danes."

  "Yes. I would accept a child."

  "And the woman?"

  He shrugged. "I will let you know if it happens. I cannot answer what hasn't happened."

  I sat quietly sat by his side, my gaze on the water. Each day this man grew more mysterious. He took it in turns to be both kind and hard. He often said one thing but did another, especially where I was concerned.

  "Nerys Elen,"

  "What?"

  "If something is to happen to me, should I die, you are free."

  I turned to stare at him, frankly taken aback by his words. “You cannot mean that.”

  “Should I gift you to Eowils then?” he suggested. "It is another way for you to earn your freedom."

  "I am a thrall. Your brother would keep me such."

  "You will gain your freedom should I die, and all of this," he gestured with his arm, “could be yours with Eowils."

  I blinked at him, then rose and walked away. To process those words would require time. Did he mean them or did he simply give me another example of freedom bought in some way?

  I curled into the farthest corner of the bed. He came into the house not long after, piled wood on the fire, and then climbed in bed by my side. I feigned sleep so as not to speak to him. There seemed nothing to say.

  13

  I laid out a cold meal, tended the fire, and completed the tasks he would expect of me. Then, I left.

  I wondered vaguely if he would be concerned when he woke to an empty bed or did he know by now that I was up before dawn?

  As promised, I drew a map of the lands and river. In it, I included the shoreline from the monastery to beyond the river that put into the sea. It was perhaps a day further by boat to reach the mouth of the river that led to the town of Thetford.

  I was certain he would see the map in the dirt.

  The yard was yet quiet when I stepped into the little faering tied at the dock.

  I rowed to the center of the lake, then dropped a line to catch some fish. It was calm here and with not much to occupy my time, I fell into consideration of all I'd learned of late.

  I started when Halfdan's voice came to me. He waved as he strode to the barn.

  He was back with the horse saddled in no time. He gave me another wave and yelled the word 'town,' and rode out of the yard.

  That meant he would likely be gone a while. Once more, I had a chance to flee. Yet, the truth was, I'd be unable to get far. I knew little of his people, little of their language, and even less of their lands. Running away would spell my death to the elements.

  I idled upon the water until eight fish lay in the bottom of the boat. It was my plan to clean them, cook them, and offer them to the other servants who lived at the farm. I desperately needed friends in this land and those like me might make for good ones.

  Back on shore, I tied the faering up and then carried my catch to the porch. I sat in the hazy sun to clean the fish. I heard the woman around the back of the house. It sounded as though she beat the furs. I wondered if she might speak to me when she returned from her chore.

  I needn't spare a thought for her as Halfdan returned almost before I could finish boning a single fish.

  Behind him came Eowils. My nose wrinkled at the sight of him. He would never be a man I liked or trusted. He, even more than Halfdan, represented each and every story of the heathens that I heard from those in the monastery.

  As usual, Eowils was dirty and looked to come from hard work. He slid off his horse behind his brother and rubbed a hand across his sweaty face. As if that weren't enough, he dunked his head in the water trough to rub the dirt away.

  They passed me with nary a glance to take seats at the table. Curious, I rose and went inside behind them.

  "You must have lost your wits, brother," Eowils said as he slid a mug of ale to Halfdan.

  "He will not know one thrall from another. Who is to say which one told me where this fortress can be found?"

  Eowils put his elbows on the table to stare balefully at Halfdan.

  "I daresay she had best be worth the trouble you bring upon yourself with this lie. It would be simpler to take Nerys Elen and her map and be done with it."

  "No," he paused to gather his thoughts. "What of the girl Erick took? Few saw her."

  "Halfdan,"

  "And he was to bring her to my home. Said she prayed too much," he mused.

  "Halfdan."

  "Perhaps Nerys Elen could teach her, should she not already know the lay of the land."

  "Halfdan!"

  Startled, he shut his mouth.

  Eowils sighed as he nodded in my direction. He leaned back in his chair. "Do you not hear yourself? Is this bitch worth your own life? You scheme to lie to Thorsson? He will take your head should he find out."

  "He will not find out."

  "Witless idiot. He surely will. You cannot keep a thing like that from his ears."

  Halfdan shook his head and turned to me. "Have you no other work to keep your idle hands busy?"

  I lowered my gaze as a good thrall should. "There are yet fish to clean. Will your brother stay for a meal?"

  "I will not. I have much work myself."

  I lifted my head enough to see Halfdan's half-smile. "There. Your answer. Away with you."

  I scooted out the door but left it open enough so that their conversation would yet be heard.

  After a short pause, Eowils went on, "You worry he will want Nerys Elen. You care far too much for that one, brother."

  "My children," he muttered. "I keep her to care for the childr
en."

  "Where are your children, Halfdan? You keep her to tend them, but they have not come back from Orlaith and Sven's."

  "I will bring them home this night. You must help me with this, brother. Or we will get no other chances."

  "You love her."

  I froze at the words, afraid to take another breath lest I miss Halfdan's reply.

  "What? She is unworthy to make a wife."

  "To another man, perhaps. You seem to like the ones who would defy you at every turn. Do you wish to replace Helga with Nerys Elen?"

  "I could not replace Helga," he replied.

  "You protect her. You would protect her from Thorsson. Let him have her. Astrid will ensure she keeps to her place. I see how you look. I know that look, brother."

  Eowils sighed heavily. "You dig in your heels over a woman worth little more than the romp one might get on her thighs. But you are set on this course. An idiot. That is what you are, brother."

  "You will help me."

  "You leave me no choice should I wish to keep you alive a while longer yet."

  I heard the grin in Halfdan's voice. "You are a good brother."

  "And you are an idiot. I will see Erick this day and perhaps come again tonight with his thrall."

  I made myself busy with the fish so that, when Eowils left the house, I had no reason to so much as glance up at him.

  14

  Not long after, Halfdan passed me. “I will return shortly. I expect you to be done by then.”

  “Of course.”

  “Cook up all the fish you caught.”

  “As you say.”

  He hesitated to spare me a look, one brow raised. “What has come over you, Vixen?”

  I looked up from my work. “Nothing, Dane. I have my task and you interrupt it.”

  He shook his head as he started toward his horse. “Be ready.”

  He left before I could ask him why I ought to be ready.

  Finished with my responsibility, I went into the house to cook. I cut up the fish and nettles and tossed them into a pot of boiling water with dandelion leaves, wild onion, and thyme. I added the leftover wheat kernels from the winter stores.

  I found coarse flour yet in the barrel and set to making small flatbreads with the flour, milk, honey, and dried elderberries. This would taste good with the stew.

  Halfdan returned with a bang of the outer door.

  “My children.” He ushered them forward. “My son, Bjorn. My daughter, Frida.”

  I rose and offered them each a smile. “Hello.”

  Bjorn lifted his gaze to Halfdan. “Father, she is the one you spoke of?”

  Halfdan nodded, gaze on mine, assessing, watching.

  “I’m called Nerys Elen.”

  Frida gave a tiny smile. “You are pretty.”

  “Thank you, you are lovely too, Frida.”

  “Is it true you are from a place where they believe in only one god?”

  My laugh surprised Halfdan into a smile.

  He watched me teach his daughter to make fish stew, watched when I got on the floor to play with his son after the meal while he doodled the map onto a scrap of leather parchment.

  “This looks like the one you made?” He held it out for me to see.

  I handed the carved cow to Bjorn, then climbed to my feet to come around the table to where he sat.

  “Let me see.”

  I nodded, then pinched my fingers together at him. “The coal?”

  “Mm.” He handed me the pencil. “What is wrong with it?” Without thinking, he drew me onto his lap so that I could work at the table.

  “Here, you see?” I rubbed at the line he’d drawn, smudged it away, then redrew it differently. “The land is more like this. There is a small island here,” another mark, “just beyond the mouth of the river. It is a narrow pass but not impossible.”

  “My ships would get through?” He offered me his cup as he stared at the map.

  “They are the same as when you attacked the monastery?”

  “Yes.”

  “They would, Dane. It is possible to go up the river. You would be a far richer man.”

  I drank but did not allow my surprise at his familiarity to show.

  He smiled. “You believe that.”

  “I do. I know the way you attack, remember? You have the element of surprise, and if your ships can make it up the river, who is to say whether they could stop you?”

  He took the cup from my unresisting hand.

  “And you to thank, vixen.”

  The door opened, letting in rain and a soaked Eowils. Behind him, a woman. She came barely up to his shoulder. Water ran off her cloak to puddle on the floor.

  “Blythe?” I rose and crossed to the woman. “Is it you?”

  I pushed the woman’s cloak back. “I had word that you yet lived.”

  The woman stood trembling.

  I heard Halfdan murmur, “she’s hardly older than Frida.”

  I removed her cloak, then took her by the hand and drew her to the fire. “You will be warmer here.”

  Blythe went to her knees silently as I frowned at the men.

  “What has your friend done to her?”

  “I am to know?”

  Eowils took a chair at the table. “Erick was glad to be rid of her, brother. He says her constant pious nature gave him fits.”

  He laughed. “Said you ought to return her once she’d learned to keep a house.”

  “There,” Halfdan said to me. “Now we know.”

  “We know nothing,” I huffed as I turned to Blythe once more. “I will bring you a drink. Would that help warm you?”

  She darted a glance at two men, then at the children who played nearby. She nodded at me only after that.

  Eowils poured himself a cup from the pitcher on the table. “This is the map?” He took up the parchment.

  “Yes. We could get there easily. It is near where first we made land, brother.”

  I poured from the pitcher, then went back to Blythe to kneel next to her and try to ply her with drink.

  “And you believe it right?”

  “I do.”

  “She would not lie?”

  “She might. But in this I believe her.”

  “And you would have this mouse explain the map to Thorsson?”

  “If she is able.”

  “She is not able. She did little save murmur words against me as we traveled here.”

  “We will see what Nerys Elen can do with her. Perhaps yet,”

  Eowils shook his head. “I care not. Even should your bitch have magic, she cannot bring that one around. Perhaps it is better she take a knife to her as she did my thrall.”

  Halfdan shrugged when I lifted her gaze to them. I dared not speak against Eowils. But the words I wanted to say were there in my scowl.

  “You believe Thorsson will give you the ships you seek?”

  “He will. He will see this map and let us chase fortune in his name, brother.”

  Eowils grunted.

  15

  Blythe remained nearly catatonic the first two days. I spent my time bringing the girl around and getting her to speak. Halfdan allowed her to stay in the house to cook and clean and pray.

  It vexed him, but he said nothing. Hope yet lived in his chest that she could take on whatever tasks he wanted, I supposed.

  Meanwhile, I settled into a routine that kept me in the fields most days. I shadowed him as he began the laborious task of weeding out plants so that others grew. It was boring work and exhausting. The thought that I might yet be free of this place made the work tolerable.

  Bjorn often fetched water and food from the house. At those times, Halfdan I sat together to rest.

  “I often envy their energy,”

  He squinted at me. “It does not yet work for him.”

  “You think you will go west again?”

  “Jarl Thorsson wishes to see the map, and its maker, before he yet agrees to give me the ships I need.”

 
“He is the one like a king?”

  Halfdan grinned. “The same.”

  “He wishes to keep the thrall who knows those lands.”

  “So he says.” He dug at the dirt between his feet with the point of his knife. “He believes it to be you.”

  “Ah, then he wishes to keep what is yours.”

  He looked at me. “Why do you say that?”

  I shrugged. “The night at the longhouse, he expected you to sell me. He wants what you have.”

  His head drifted to one side. “You see much. What reason has he for wanting what I have, vixen? He can buy a thrall anywhere.”

  “Not one of yours.”

  He leaned forward. “And what makes mine desirable?”

  I gave it consideration before I answered. This felt like another challenge.

  “Because it belongs to you, Dane. He wants what you have.”

  “And you are certain it is not just that he desires you?”

  He rolled his head back and smirked.

  “He takes many to bed. Men. Women. So long as he is in control, it matters little.”

  “Oh, it is what you have. You are a threat. He would remind you that your place is beneath him. Is it not true?”

  “Perhaps.” He dropped his head back to look at me once more. “Or perhaps you are what he wants.”

  Frustrated with his word games, I snapped, “What answer do you seek?”

  “The one you give me.”

  I snorted. “I gave one that does not suffice.”

  He tugged the hem of my tunic. I snatched it from his grasp.

  “You are worth more than he knew that night, vixen.”

  “More even than you yet knew.”

  “Mm, perhaps. Would you like to be the thrall of a Jarl, vixen?”

  “There is no difference, Dane. One man is much like another when he seeks control.”

  He laughed. “Why did you help me?”

  “With the map? Because you will succeed. I would buy my freedom, Halfdan. I will not stay beholden to you even beyond your death.”

  “Oh.” He licked his lips, grinned at the sky. “I understand now.”

  “It was,” I sought for a word as I watched clouds drift overhead. “It was… kind. The offer you made,”

  “I made no offer, vixen. I meant my words. Freedom is what you seek. I can offer you freedom that way.”