Tara: Taken (Viking Guardians Book 5)

by Kaitlynn Clarkson

  “This smells good,” Einar said, coming into the room.

  Alvilda scurried to the cooking pot with a bowl and ladled the hot stew into it. She set a bowl in front of Erik and the two men sat to eat.

  “I am ready to leave in the morning,” Erik said.

  “When will you return?” Einar asked.

  “I will be home in time for your wedding,” Erik replied. “I am going to Fram Hváll first to fill my orders and buy more goods and then I shall take a journey along the coast to visit my customers. I am hoping that this trip will be highly profitable.”

  “Being a merchant is a little like being a farmer,” Einar said. “You must do most of your trading before the winter comes and you have to stay at home while the snow melts.”

  “That is true. I will be buying materials to make leather goods while I am at the markets,” replied Erik. “I will have a good supply of stock to sell when the spring comes if I am diligent.”

  “When are you planning to see Jerrik?”

  “I was planning to see him after going to the markets but I have changed my mind. A wagon full of goods is a more attractive target to thieves than an empty one. I will travel through unfamiliar lands with an empty wagon.”

  “That is a wise plan,” Einar agreed. “Keep your eyes open for Taft while you are at the markets. You might see him.”

  “I will,” promised Einar.

  “Erik my friend, heill,” Jerrik said, pleasure in his voice. “It has been too long since we last met.”

  “Heill, Jarl Jerrick,” Erik returned the greeting. “It has indeed been too long.”

  “Are you in good health?” Jerrik asked.

  “I am, thank you,” Erik replied. “Are you in good health also? And what about Freja and the children?”

  “Everyone is in good health,” Jerrik said. “Will you lodge with us?”

  “If that is agreeable to you, it would be my pleasure to spend some time with you both.”

  “Of course. Freja will be delighted to see you. We have three children now, two boys and a girl. She is very busy running our household but she will still be happy to sit down with you and talk about what you have been doing since we last met.”

  “Thank you. I will look forward to that,” Erik said.

  “What brings you here to my lands? They are a long way from your own.”

  “I am here on a matter that needs your advice,” Erik said.

  “Then let us sit where we can discuss it in comfort,” Jerrik replied. He motioned to a servant to take care of Erik’s horses and led the way to his house. It was large and at this time of the day, empty.

  “Freja and the children are outside,” Jerrik said. “We are alone.” He motioned for Erik to sit on one of the benches along the wall and pulled up a stool nearby.

  “That is a good thing,” Erik replied. “The matter I wish to discuss is a sensitive one.”

  “I am listening.”

  “Do you remember that our village of Myrkvior Fjall was destroyed by Taft and his band of thugs?” Erik asked.

  Jerrik nodded. “Halvar told me. It was a terrible thing.”

  “I was with the band of young men that went to fetch Halvar from Merilant, where he spent the winter as the guardians of young Eira and Kaarina,” Erik said. “We arrived just hours after Taft’s evil work against our village.”

  “Are you certain it was Taft?” Jerrik asked.

  Erik nodded. “Halvar left Canute in charge while he was gone. Taft personally attacked Canute and tried to get information from him regarding Kaarina’s whereabouts. Canute simply did not know because Halvar had never told him. So Taft gave up and let him go, but not before many of our people had been killed and the village destroyed by fire.” Erik’s eyes took on a haunted look at the memory. “By the time we arrived, it was too late. Had we been there the day before, perhaps we could have prevented it.”

  “Or there might have been a lot more bloodshed,” Jerrik said wisely.

  “Taft attacked at sunrise, it is true,” Erik said. “The village was totally unprepared.”

  “Why did he attack?” asked Jerrik.

  “He had a grudge against Halvar,” Erik replied.

  “Did anyone know where he went after the attack?”

  Erik shook his head. “We were all too focused on survival to worry about getting justice. There were so many dead and injured that we had to concentrate all our resources and energy on burying the dead and caring for the wounded. It took several months of living in the barns that were spared before we were able to travel to Merilant. By then, the injured had all died or recovered.”

  “This is a terrible tale you tell,” Jerrik said. “Halvar only mentioned it briefly. I did not know all the details.”

  “After we reached Merilant, we were focused on rebuilding. We had to build a new village, establish new farms, and get our lives in order again. There was no time to hunt down Taft and bring him to justice.”

  “And now?”

  “I saw Taft at the markets on my last journey. He disappeared into the crowd before I had the chance to detain him. As the markets are held on your lands, it is reasonable to suppose that he might be living in your lands also, far away from the scene of his crime and a very long way from where Halvar is living now. He has escaped punishment entirely.”

  “Hmmm,” said Jerrik, stroking his short, fair beard. His sharp blue eyes were thoughtful. “I will ask my men to keep watch for him. I believe your story, Erik. Halvar has told me much the same thing. There are plenty of witnesses who can verify that it was Taft who destroyed your village. If we find him, he will face the penalties imposed by the laws of our land.”

  “Thank you, Jerrik,” Erik replied. “I appreciate your assistance in this matter.”

  “I cannot promise that we will find him,” Jerrik cautioned. “But if we do, we will certainly take action.”

  Erik was watchful as he drew near the markets. People were coming and going with goods to buy and sell, animals bellowed, and children’s screams and squeals added to the cacophony. It sounded and smelt like every other market Erik had been to, but it wasn’t the sights and smells that made him wary. He was certain that this was Taft’s home turf and he didn’t want to risk a confrontation by accidentally cornering the man. Taft had already proven to be a dangerous enemy and who knew what he would do if he felt trapped by someone who would recognize him. He would do whatever it took to escape from being held accountable for his violent past.

  Suddenly, an ear-splitting scream rent through the usual sounds of market chaos. Erik pulled the horses to a stop, looking for the cause of the commotion. The crowd parted on the road ahead of him and he could see a pair of slave traders approaching. In his wake trailed a chain of captives, tied together with rope. Erik saw them stumble and one almost fell.

  A tall woman seemed to be having a panic attack. She threw herself against the rope, screaming and wailing and lashing out. The slaver’s servant hit her over the head with a stick and she screamed again, this time from pain. Erik felt an unexpected stab of pity; slaves were usually of no concern to him but this one was clearly distraught as the traders tried to get the unruly line moving again towards the slave markets. The slave auctions would begin in the morning and the traders no doubt wanted to get the slaves settled into their cells for the night.

  As the line began moving towards him, a bright halo of red hair caught his eye. The slim young woman beneath it was doing her best to remain upright and not cause trouble, but the rope jerked on her slender wrists, chafing them red.

  Then inexplicably, she looked at Erik. As their eyes met, he felt a jolt like a lightning bolt sear through his veins. Her eyes were incredible, green and luminously beautiful. But they were haunted; pain, resignation and sorrow mingled with a calm dignity that her circumstances could not take from her. Erik’s breath caught in his throat and he opened his mouth to speak to her as the line passed by. But the moment was gone, lost as the maddened slave screamed and lunge
d on the rope again. The girl with the red hair stumbled and almost fell, the rope cutting cruelly into her wrist. Erik wanted to leap down from the wagon and help her but the traders jerked on the rope and the line of misery kept moving towards the slave markets.

  Erik sat still, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed. His heart hammered and a torrent of emotions swirled through his veins. Who was the beautiful slave with the mesmerizing eyes? How had she become a slave? There were no answers.

  CHAPTER 5

  Tara stirred as the first fingers of daylight began to seep through the cracks in the walls. She and several other female slaves were sharing a small room to sleep in overnight. They had been given some rags to sleep on and some water, but Tara found herself hungry and tired after a cold sleep on the hard floor. But that was the least of her worries; today, she would be sold at the slave auction and the thought of what awaited her made her forget her hunger. She trembled with fear as she thought of all the cruel-looking men she had seen on her journey to the slave markets, shuddering as she recalled their mean eyes and scowling faces.

  The one exception had been the merchant in the wagon. He’d had a kind face and although their eyes had only met for a fleeting second, she’d felt a connection with him. She could only hope that she would be sold to someone like him rather than to one of the angry-looking men who were so abundant in this land of Norowegr.

  “Get up!” shouted the slave-keeper outside the door, rattling it as he unlocked it. He marched inside and aimed a kick at the last woman still lying on the floor. She scrambled to her feet and he proceeded to issue instructions, some of which Tara didn’t understand. She wished that someone spoke her language; several of the other women were also from other countries and none of them understood the slave-keeper.

  “Come!” he barked, leading the way out of the room.

  That was an instruction that Tara understood and she and the other women lined up behind him. He led them out of the long, low building to a courtyard, where other lines of slaves awaited the next command. He got out the rope again and tied them together in a line; Tara looked for the woman who had caused so much trouble yesterday and was relieved to see her in a different line. The women in Tara’s line stood still, each one wrapped in her own misery, each one afraid of what the future might hold. Tara shivered; the fear and unhappiness were contagious and she found herself wishing that she could fly away like a bird, away from these cruel people and their harsh land, back to her own land, where her loving family would no doubt be grieving her loss, convinced they would never see her again. She wasn’t ready to be honest and admit that she would never return to her homeland. A tiny shred of hope, buried at the bottom of the bag she carried, enabled her to put one foot in front of the other. So far, no one had tried to take the bag and its precious contents away from her and she was hoping that anyone who might have an interest in it would see only a change of clothes. Surely, no one would discern the importance of the cloth and thread.

  “Wait!” ordered the slave-keeper, turning to leave.

  A young man stood guard over their line but it was hardly necessary. There was nowhere to run inside the fully-enclosed courtyard and there were guards at every door. Resigned to their fate, the line of women stood quietly alongside a line of male slaves on one side and another line of women on the other. Tara could only assume that they were waiting their turn to go into the auction to be sold. She had never felt more terrified in her life.

  Erik awoke early after a restless night sleeping in his wagon. He’d been unable to get the young red-haired woman out of his mind. Her delicate beauty, her haunted eyes and her calm dignity arose before his eyes every time he closed them. He tossed and turned, wanting to somehow rescue her from the life that surely awaited her. No owner would turn her out to work in the fields or around the longhouse. She was too beautiful. She would almost certainly become a bed-slave, doomed to a life of bearing children that she would not be able to keep because they belonged to her master, and unable to earn enough to buy her freedom. Erik had seen it happen before but had never thought anything of it until now. Slaves were invisible to most karls, simply a way to keep the machinery of society running smoothly. Everyone took them for granted; they were part of the scenery of daily life just as much as the sun and the wind. No one ever imagined what it would be like if they were all set free. It would be unthinkable.

  As morning dawned, Erik finally made up his mind. Feeling noble, he decided that he would buy the young woman himself. He thought about keeping her as a slave but that would solve nothing for her, no matter how well he treated her or how he managed to resist her beauty.

  For his gesture to be meaningful, he realized that he would have to set her free and allow her to choose her future for herself. Otherwise, he would just be another slave owner and worthy of that haunted look in her eyes. He wanted to give her a reason to smile with all the passion and vitality that he suspected was hidden inside.

  Would he not want her for himself? He couldn’t deny that the thought was in his mind. She was beautiful, after all. But he decided that if it were to ever happen, he wanted her to respond to him out of love rather than because she was forced to. Therefore, he could not buy her to be his slave. It would snuff out any spark of hope and any candle of desire she might feel for him. All he would be left with would be the shell of her, the dutiful, resigned cloak that covered the passionate, vibrant woman he was sure was inside. He would buy her and set her free, knowing full well that he might never see her again. It was a risk he was willing to take. He couldn’t bear to think of her being used and abused by a cruel master. She deserved her freedom.

  He hastened to ready himself for the day, unwilling to miss the slave auction. His other business could wait until tomorrow. The slave auctions would be held today; the market would still be going tomorrow. His original plan of visiting the cloth merchants early in the morning vanished. It no longer mattered if he got to the best cloth first. He simply must be at the slave auctions. He counted his money. It would certainly be enough to buy a slave and he would still have enough to purchase the goods he needed for his orders.

  Erik arrived at the building where the slaves were to be auctioned. Buyers stood around outside, waiting for the slaves to be brought out so the auction could begin. Judging by the growing crowd, there was plenty of interest in slaves today. Erik began to wonder if he would face stiff competition for the red-haired girl. It didn’t matter; he was determined to do everything he could to buy her and set her free.

  At last, the slave-keepers brought out the first line of slaves, all males. They invited the buyers to come close and inspect the men before bidding and many of the potential buyers went to the dividing fence for a closer look. Some of the slaves scowled while others kept their countenances neutral. For the first time, Erik wondered what it would be like to be on the other side of the fence, about to be sold to a new owner. It was a thought that was uncomfortable and he wondered why he’d never considered it before. Although he’d never owned any, thralls were such a part of daily life that they were invisible.

  One by one, the male thralls were sold; each buyer was given a token that matched a thrall. Then the thralls were returned to their temporary quarters until the buyers came to collect them. Many of the buyers remained in the crowd, eager to purchase other thralls. Erik felt a growing sense of impatience as he waited for the other lines of slaves to be sold. Where was the woman with the red hair?

  At last, the slave-keepers led a line of female slaves out and Erik saw her red hair glowing brightly amongst the more subdued tones of the blondes and brunettes. He caught his breath: she was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. Standing there awaiting her fate, there was a quiet dignity about her that spoke of both strength and vulnerability. She kept her beautiful eyes lowered, unwilling to make contact with a future owner. Erik’s heart hammered in his chest and he felt an ache that he’d never known before. Somehow, he must buy this woman. He must!

&nbs
p; At last, the slave-keeper invited the buyers to come closer to inspect the slaves and the crowd surged towards the dividing fence. Erik pushed and shoved until he was standing right in front of the woman. He noticed the wounds on her wrists from the rope; her skin was fine and milky white. A handful of freckles danced across her nose and cheeks and her gloriously vibrant hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her features were delicate and she had long eyelashes and a dainty mouth with full lips. She was exquisite.

  At that moment, she raised her eyes and looked right at Erik. Surprise flickered through her stunning green eyes as she recognized him from the day before. He was stricken by the pain that followed before she dropped her eyes again, smitten by the realization that she saw him simply as another potential owner who wanted her only for her body or what she could do for him. It made him squirm as he thought about how she must see him: just another man who wanted to use and abuse her. It was an unpleasant thought.

  At last, the auctioneer turned his attention to her. “Here we have a fine slave from the land of Eire,” he began.

  Erik was surprised. He hadn’t considered that she might have been taken from a foreign land.

  “She is young, fit and healthy and would make a fine addition to your bed.”

  Bawdy laughter greeted the statement and Erik cringed at the crude remarks flying around the crowd as they acknowledged it. He hoped the woman couldn’t hear the comments or that she didn’t understand the language well enough to comprehend the crude remarks.

  “She will bear you many children if you take her as a bed-slave,” the auctioneer continued. “But if you already have enough bed-slaves, she is strong enough for work in the fields or around the farm or longhouse. The choice is yours.”

  A moment later, the bidding began and Erik soon found himself in a fierce bidding battle with numerous other buyers. It seemed that everyone wanted to buy the beautiful woman with red hair. Erik began to grow alarmed as the price went higher and higher and finally, had to shake his head in dismay as it went well beyond his reach. He simply could not afford to pay that much for her. He felt sick as the bidding reached a halt; it was almost three times the usual price of a female slave. He did not doubt that in the future he would be able to pay it, but today, he could not. It would have left him with no money to fill the orders for his customers and he must keep them happy or he would have no business. With a sinking feeling, he watched as the auctioneer ended the auction, awarding the woman to someone on the other side of the crowd.