“Is this the farm belonging to Taft?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said in an unfamiliar accent. “Have you business with him?”
“It is his wife I wish to see,” Erik said. “I am here to show her my wares. We met at the marketplace at Fram Hváll.”
“I do not usually see the mistress,” the woman replied. “I cannot tell you if she will receive your call. But you can try.”
Erik wondered if she remembered seeing him at the markets. He decided to risk asking. “I remember you from the marketplace,” he said. “You were sold to Taft there, were you not?”
“I was,” she said. “I remember you. But why are you speaking to me? People do not usually speak to slaves.”
“I just wished to ask you about Taft’s wife,” Erik said easily. “What is your name? My name is Erik.”
“I am Tara,” she said, holding her head high.
Erik thought how beautiful she was; her hard work in the fields had done nothing to erase her good looks. He wondered again why she was working in the fields instead of at the house but decided not to ask. He suspected that Taft’s wife had got her way and had succeeded in keeping Tara out of sight.
“I shall be on my way to see the mistress, then,” Erik said.
Tara watched him go with regret. She remembered that he had been unsuccessful in his bid to buy her. At the time, she had been disappointed; he had a kind face and she was sure he would’ve been good to her. But she’d had little time or energy to waste on regrets and disappointment over things she couldn’t control. She’d had to stay focused on the present to survive and stay strong. The young merchant had slipped from her mind and she hadn’t given him another thought. After all, there was no way she would ever see him again.
So when he’d appeared beside the trail that led to the farm, it had taken her a moment to remember where she’d seen him before. When he’d mentioned the awful day that Taft had bought her, the memories came flooding back and she found herself shaking as she relived the experience. Surely God must have been with her or she would never have survived it.
“Heill,” Erik greeted the slave that answered the door. “May I speak with the mistress of the house?”
“I will ask if she wishes to speak with you,” the slave answered before disappearing into the interior of the house, leaving Erik standing on the doorstep.
It was customary for homeowners to offer hospitality to all who came by, especially in remote regions such as this. Sudden storms and the sheer distance between villages meant that any travelers were at the mercy of the elements and shelter. Getting caught outside during a storm or being forced to spend the night out in the open could mean death. The culture of hospitality was strong and Erik was surprised that the slave had not invited him inside. But he conceded that it was Taft’s house; the man was not known for kindness or generosity. A lack of hospitality would not be surprising either.
“Yes. What do you want?”
Erik blinked in surprise as Taft’s wife suddenly appeared in front of him. Her face looked tired but it did nothing to disguise the unhappy expression and pinched, mean look that it had worn for years.
“I have come to visit you as I said I would when we met at the marketplace in Fram Hváll.”
The woman quickly stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind her. “Do not speak loudly,” she said.
“I apologize,” Erik said, although he was sure he had not spoken loudly. “Do you remember our meeting?”
The woman nodded. “You gave me some trinkets,” she said. “My name is Gunilla.”
“And I am Erik. I have come with a wagon full of goods if you wish to take a look,” he told her.
She looked around as if expecting someone to appear from nowhere and oppose her. “Very well,” she said reluctantly. “I shall take a look.”
Erik led her to the wagon, where she was soon greedily eyeing off an assortment of goods.
“Will you trade?” she asked.
“If you have something of value that is of use to me,” Erik said. He wondered what she might have to trade. He’d expected her to pay with coins but perhaps she had nothing of her own to give him.
She straightened up and looked at him. “My husband has been suffering from injuries,” she said. “He is unable to work as he usually does.”
Was he supposed to accept that as the explanation for a lack of money? He decided that this situation could work in his favor.
“What goods do you wish to purchase?” he asked. “Perhaps we can work out a deal.”
She gathered a pile of leather, fur, household items and metal goods. She hesitated at the elaborate belt with the fancy silver buckle; it was expensive. She reluctantly laid it aside. Then she stepped out of the way so Erik could get in. He started to add up the cost of each item, listing the cost out loud as he went so that she could follow along.
As he neared the bottom of the pile, he realized that the total cost of all the items was a little over the standard price for a female slave. Excitement started to rise inside him but he was determined to keep a cool head. He couldn’t afford to lose this game.
Finally, he named the total cost of the goods and Gunilla hung her head. She knew there was no way she could pay that amount of money.
“I do not have that much money,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes.
“What do you have to trade?” he asked.
“The skin of a sheep, a little wheat, a couple of wooden stools ...” her voice trailed off.
Erik shook his head. “It is not enough, I am afraid,” he said.
She looked crestfallen. “Then tell me the value of the things I just mentioned and I will just take a few of the items.”
Erik looked at her thoughtfully. “There is another way you can have the things you want,” he said.
She raised her head sharply and her eyes were watchful and wary. “How?” she asked suspiciously.
“I would take your female slave in exchange for the goods. The one with the red hair. I saw her beside the road when I was coming to the house.”
Gunilla looked surprised.
“Think about it,” Erik urged. “She is young and beautiful. Does it please you to have her around your husband?”
Gunilla’s face took on a thunderous expression and she shook her head.
“Has he taken her as a bed-slave?”
She shook her head again. “It is only because he has been ill that he has not,” she muttered.
“When he recovers, he will want her,” Erik said. “I am offering to take her away this day so that you do not have to see her again. More importantly, your husband will never see her again either and he will be all yours.”
Gunilla thought for a moment. “It is true,” she said. “My husband is starting to recover from his injuries and perhaps someday he will be well enough to be interested in the girl. Besides, winter is coming and she is just another mouth to feed. We do not have our usual supplies laid away this year due to my husband’s injuries.”
“Then it would be a good thing for me to buy her,” Erik said. “It would save you from two problems.”
“You are right. You may have her. But only if you agree to add the belt with the silver buckle to the goods that I wish to take.”
Erik thought for a moment. “It is expensive,” he said. “I do not know if I can manage that.”
Gunilla looked at him anxiously, determined to get as much as she could out of the deal.
“Very well,” Erik said at last. “I will add the belt on one condition.”
“What is that?”
“You must never reveal my name or where I am from. Your husband might wish to retrieve his slave and then I would be in danger.”
Gunilla shook her head vigorously, her eyes wide. “I will never tell,” she muttered. “I do not wish the wench to come back.”
Erik hid a grin. He’d secured Tara’s release more easily than he’d expected and he’d frightened Gunilla into staying silent about
the matter. He started to unload the pile of goods, placing them on the ground in front of the house, then made a record of their purchase.
“You may lodge in the slave-house tonight,” Gunilla told him, mindful of her responsibility to provide hospitality.
“Thank you, but under the circumstances, I will lodge at the farmhouse down the road,” Erik replied.
Gunilla looked relieved. “As you wish,” she murmured.
“I shall depart, then,” Erik said. “It was a pleasure to do business with you.”
“I am glad you came,” Gunilla replied. “You know where to find the wench. You have already seen her.”
Erik climbed into the wagon and drove back down the road. He hoped that Tara would still be working where he’d last seen her.
Sure enough, he spotted her bright halo of hair across the field, still raking the hay into bundles. He jumped down from the wagon and almost ran across the field to meet her.
“Tara!” he exclaimed breathlessly.
She looked up warily, no doubt wondering why he would be calling her by her name in such a familiar manner when she barely knew him. He couldn’t tell her that he’d thought of her every day since he’d seen her at the slave markets; she was such a part of his daily life now that he’d almost forgotten that this was only the second time she’d spoken to him.
“What is it?” she asked warily.
“I have good news!” he exclaimed.
She looked confused. “Well, I am happy for you,” she said.
He realized that she had no idea what he was talking about. “I made a deal with Gunilla,” he said. “You are free.”
She gaped at him in astonishment. “How …?”
“Gunilla has accepted a pile of goods in exchange for you,” he said. He pulled the thin tablet of wood from his pocket. “See, this records the deal.”
She looked at the marks on the wood. They were meaningless to her. “I know not how to read,” she said.
“It is the truth,” Erik assured her. “I wrote these items on the list just now, after Gunilla had settled on the deal. You are free.”
“Free?” she questioned as if hearing it for the first time. “You mean, you bought me?”
“Yes. I bought you from Gunilla.”
“Then that means I now belong to you instead of to her. That does not mean I am free,” she said.
“I bought you to set you free,” Erik told her. How was he to make her understand?
“I do not understand,” she said. “Why would you pay money for a slave you do not want?”
“I wanted to set you free when I bid for you at the slave auction,” Erik said. “But the price went too high for me.”
“You mean … free … really free?”
Erik nodded. “Free,” he said. “Free to do whatever you wish. Free to return to your homeland if you choose.”
Tara gasped as the magnitude of what Erik was saying hit her. She put her hands over her face then sank to her knees, feeling faint. After a moment, she toppled onto the pile of hay she’d just been raking and was still. The shock of sudden freedom was overwhelming.
CHAPTER 10
Tara couldn’t believe the sudden change in her fortunes. One moment, she’d been a foreign slave, despised by all and valued by none. The next, a stranger had paid the price for her freedom. Was she dreaming? And why would he do that? Surely, he must want something from her. Surely, there must be a reason why he would go to such lengths to rescue her.
“Why did you buy me?” she asked again as they walked beside the cart towards the slave quarters so she could retrieve her few belongings.
Erik looked at her. “I have known Taft in the past,” he said at last. “You do not deserve to live with a man like that. He is cruel.”
“But I am a stranger,” she pointed out. “And there are many other slaves with cruel masters. Surely you cannot rescue them all.”
“No, it is true. I cannot. But I can rescue you,” he said with a smile.
She hadn’t paid him much attention before, but he had a nice smile, with white teeth and smooth, rosy lips. She blushed, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her scrutiny.
As they neared the slave-house, Inger came out with a heavy pan full of water and Tara was suddenly smitten with guilt as she realized that she was about to say goodbye to the two people who had made life bearable for her in this place. She would be leaving to live life as a free person while they remained slaves. The thought was almost too much to bear. She turned to Erik.
“I have two friends here,” she whispered, hanging her head. “Brendan and Inger. I feel bad about leaving them. They have been so good to me.”
Erik looked at her. Tears shimmered on her lashes, illuminating her beautiful eyes as she felt sad for her friends who would be left behind. She looked at him pleadingly.
“Can you help?” she asked softly. “I cannot bear to leave them here while I go free.”
Erik was taken aback. He had come to rescue one slave, not three! But it was true; her rescue had not cost him anywhere near what he expected.
“Please?” she begged again, her stunning green eyes looking pleadingly into his.
He sighed. “Very well. I will speak to Gunilla. But I cannot promise that she will allow two more slaves to leave the household.”
“Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed, impulsively stepping forward to hug him. She stopped herself just in time, her arms dropping to her sides. “I am so grateful,” she said softly. “One day, I will repay you.”
“You owe me nothing,” Erik said. “Freedom is a gift that I am happy to give to you.”
“I will repay you,” she insisted. “If not for me, then for my friends.”
“I have not secured their freedom yet,” he warned. “Do not be hasty to assume that they will be going with us. Get ready to leave while I go to see Gunilla.”
A short time later, Erik returned, a grin on his face as he entered the barn where Tara was waiting for him. “Gunilla did not wish to let Inger go,” he said. “I had to pay more than what an old slave is worth to convince her.”
“What about Brendan?” she asked anxiously.
“I paid what a male slave is worth at the markets and she agreed. I think she needs the money since Taft has been unable to work,” he replied.
“There is one other thing,” she said shyly, dropping her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I wish to take my cat with me. His name is Kappi.”
Erik looked at the fluffy cat that was winding its way around her legs and rolled his eyes. “Soon we will have the entire barnyard trailing along behind us,” he muttered. “Are there any sheep you also wish to take? Or a chicken or two?”
Tara felt like sticking out her tongue at him but decided that she’d better not. “No,” she replied demurely. “There is only me, and Kappi, and Inger, and Brendan …”
Erik was half-amused, half-exasperated. “I came to set you free but we’ve ended up with half of Taft’s household,” he grumbled.
Tara smiled sweetly at him. “Do not be cross, Erik,” she said. “Inger is a good cook and Brendan works hard. You will not be sorry you bought them.”
“So you do not expect me to set them free as well?”
“I cannot ask you to do that,” she said. “They cost you a lot of money. I simply wished them to be safe from Taft.”
“I can understand that,” he said.
“But if you agree to set them free, I will earn the money that it cost and I will repay you.”
“I am a traveling merchant,” Erik said. “I am seldom home and I have little need for slaves. I will consider your offer and will perhaps set them free.”
“Oh, thank you!” Tara exclaimed, clasping her hands together in a gesture of delight, her cheeks pink and her eyes shining. “I have never met anyone as kind and good as you. Thank you!”
As Erik looked at her lovely face, beaming with delight over the good fortune that her friends would now share, he th
ought he had never seen anyone so beautiful. Buying two extra slaves had never been in his plan, but if it made her happy, it was worth it.
“This is where I live,” Erik said, drawing the wagon to a stop outside his longhouse. “Einar lives here for now but in two weeks he will marry and then he will be living in Merilant.”
“Merilant?” Tara questioned.
“It is the next village on this road,” Erik answered. “You will be lodging there with Leopolda the widow.”
Tara put her hand on Kappi’s soft, furry back. She was surprised at how readily the cat had adapted to life on the road. He seemed to know that he had to stay with his human friends and had shown no inclination to wander or any desire to return to his old home.
“What about Kappi?” she asked hesitantly. “Will he be welcome there?”
“I know not,” Erik said. “But Leopolda is kind and she likes animals. You will have to ask her when you arrive. If she says no, he can live here with Inger. That is, of course, if Inger chooses to stay here.”
Tara looked at him. “You mean …?” She hardly dared to ask the question.
Erik nodded. “Yes. I have decided to set them free.”
Tara squealed with delight and turned to Brendan. “Did you hear that, Brendan? Did you listen, Inger? Erik is setting you free! Oh, this is such good news!”
She twirled around in delight, her vibrant hair flying around her head in a colorful blur. Erik was mesmerized by this exquisite creature who had set about upending his life from the moment he’d met her. He gazed at her joyful display of exuberance in open-mouthed admiration.
Suddenly, he realized that everyone was watching him, waiting for him to show them what to do next. He closed his mouth with a snap and jerked his mind back to the present.
“I will show you where you will stay for now,” he muttered.
“Thank you for giving me my freedom,” Inger said shyly, touching him on the arm.
He felt a strange surge of affection for the old woman. She reminded him of the grandmother who’d died when he was a small boy.
“I am glad I could,” he told her, putting his arm lightly around her shoulders. “You are welcome to stay at my home if you wish or you are free to go wherever you want to.”
Tara: Taken (Viking Guardians Book 5) Page 6