‘Mount up. We’re going for a ride.’
She eyed him dubiously, wondering where this tended. It was the first time he had shown any inclination for her company and she didn’t suppose that this was about a desire to make amends. Yet he never did anything without a reason. However, refusal was out of the question so she gathered the reins and mounted the horse. As her uncle followed suit she risked another glance at his expression but it revealed nothing. When he was settled comfortably he turned the horse’s head.
‘Come.’
They turned away from the stables towards the outlying farm buildings. Jarl Einar held his horse to a walking pace but he made no attempt to speak to his companion until the pigsties came into view. Then he fixed Astrid with a piercing stare.
‘Do you remember what I told you?’
‘I remember.’
‘And do you also recall the penalty for defiance?’
‘Yes.’
‘I hope so.’
Misgivings increased and her fingers tightened on the reins. As they approached the pigsties, she saw three men already present. Two were strangers, her uncle’s men. The third was Leif. He was naked to the waist and begrimed with filth, but dirt could not conceal the mass of dark bruises or the welts on his flesh. Of necessity his ankles had been unbound, but his wrists were manacled, the length of chain between just enough to enable him to work. As he turned to toss another load of muck on to the waiting cart, she drew in a sharp breath. His face was bruised and swollen, one eye half closed. Blood from the cut on his head had congealed into a dark ridge in his shorn hair. He might have looked pitiful and dejected but those words seemed entirely inappropriate for that lean and powerful figure, however battered: instead he looked as a captured lion might, angry, predatory and dangerous.
Jarl Einar reined to a halt and gestured for Astrid to do the same. Then, leaning casually on the saddle pommel, he addressed the guards.
‘Has the slave been working well?’
‘Well enough, my lord,’ the man replied. ‘If he shows any sign of slacking we give him a taste of the rod.’
‘Good. Keep him at it. I want the job finished today.’
‘It’ll be finished, my lord, I guarantee it.’
Jarl Einar turned to Astrid and smiled. ‘Is it not satisfying to see our plans fall out so well, my dear?’
Her stomach wallowed but she forced an answering smile. ‘Most satisfactory, Uncle.’
‘I think we might have him clean the kennels next. It will teach the churl to know his place. What say you?’
‘An excellent idea.’
The shovel paused and Leif shot a look her way, a look that was expressive of shock and disbelief. Jarl Einar raised an eyebrow.
‘Do not dare to raise your eyes to my niece, clod. She is far beyond your touch. Your aspirations there were laughable.’
He glanced meaningfully at Astrid. Recognising the cue she assumed an expression of cold hauteur. ‘As if I would ever have lowered myself thus.’
‘I am sorry you had to pretend, my dear, but the end has certainly justified the means.’
‘As you say, Uncle.’
‘Now you can forget about this and think instead about your wedding.’ Seeing Leif’s expression Jarl Einar’s smile widened. ‘Yes, churl, five days hence my niece is to wed a prince, a man worthy of her hand.’
Astrid stiffened, forcing herself to maintain a haughty expression. ‘It cannot come soon enough for me.’
‘Patience, my dear. Your bridegroom will be here soon enough.’ Jarl Einar glanced at Leif. ‘I think we will let the slave remain here until then. I’m sure Prince Gulbrand would like to see him.’
‘I’m sure he would.’
‘So be it. After that I shall have the scum relocated: somewhere remote, I think.’
‘Send him where you like,’ replied Astrid, ‘as long as I never have to see him again.’
‘You may depend on that, my dear.’
Leif eyed him with contempt. Then his gaze went to Astrid. It almost undid her, until she remembered what would happen to him if she failed in this. Lifting her chin, she looked away, feigning indifference.
‘This grows tedious. Shall we continue with our ride, Uncle?’
‘Presently. Meanwhile, I don’t care for the churl’s demeanour.’ Jarl Einar looked at the guards. ‘He must be taught to show respect to his betters.’
The first man strode forwards and struck Leif across the shoulders. Astrid stifled a cry, aware of her uncle’s gaze and that this was also part of the test. Biting her tongue, she willed herself to silence as the rod descended several times more. Leif staggered. Astrid tasted blood.
Jarl Einar held up a hand. ‘Enough! Now get back to work.’
Only with the greatest effort did Astrid refrain from looking at Leif. If she had her expression would surely have given her away. Instead she contrived to look bored. It seemed to satisfy her uncle though.
‘Come, Niece. Let us be gone.’
They rode on for a little way in silence. Jarl Einar looked at Astrid and nodded.
‘Not bad. However, I shall look to see this performance repeated as occasion requires.’
She lowered her gaze to conceal the anger and hatred there, and adopted an expressionless tone. ‘Whatever you say, my lord.’
‘Quite so,’ he replied.
* * *
Leif retrieved the shovel and resumed work, barely aware of his smarting shoulders. All he could think about was Astrid, or the woman he had thought was Astrid. The person he had seen just now was a total stranger. Her expression, her speech, her manner, everything was different. That woman cared nothing for him. Her coldness and her disdain were unmistakable. The revelation that her marriage to Gulbrand was going ahead with her willing consent made him see it had never been in doubt. It was the final piece of the puzzle that had been teasing him since his capture. Now it all fell into place. His gut knotted as the realisation of how far and how neatly he had been tricked was borne forcibly upon him. All the beatings he had received were as nothing to what he felt in that moment.
For a little while it was hard to think at all and he was actually glad of the hard physical labour. He moved mechanically, shovelling and lifting, unheeding of hunger or thirst or fatigue, just needing to be doing something to take his mind off the truth.
* * *
It wasn’t until the evening when he was chained in the kennel again that his thoughts came crowding in. Pain gave way to rage, part of it directed at himself. Had experience taught him nothing? The only women one could rely on were whores; a man knew where he was with them. You took them, you paid them and there it ended. Emotional involvement made a man vulnerable, weak and foolish. As moon-struck foolish as he had allowed himself to become. He grasped the collar around his neck and tried again to force the ends apart. His muscles bulged with the effort but the rivets remained fast. A cry of fury and frustration tore from his throat.
A soft laugh carried towards him on the evening air and his head jerked round to see Hakke watching him from the gate.
‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘You’ll get used to it, in time. The shackles too, I expect.’
‘Keep looking over your shoulder from now on,’ replied Leif, ‘because one day, when you least expect it, I’m going to be there.’
Hakke evinced interest. ‘And how do you propose to do that? It looks like a tall order from where I’m standing.’
Leif made no reply. His tormentor smiled.
‘We both know it isn’t going to happen,’ he went on. ‘In a little while you will be relocated, you see. Your friends will never find you. I’ll make very sure of that. You will spend the rest of your days in chains.’
‘No, I will cut out your heart instead.’
‘Empty boasting. All the same, I admire your courage, really I do. For that reason I may let you attend my cousin’s wedding—in the proper capacity, of course.’ Hakke paused. ‘Would you like to witness the bedding ceremony as well? I
can arrange it.’
Leif gritted his teeth but made no reply.
‘No? Gulbrand will pleasure her well. Three times at least I shouldn’t wonder, and every night thereafter. My cousin is singularly well endowed; inventive too, and possessed of a lusty appetite in bed. Lady Astrid will have no cause for complaint there.’
When Leif still made no reply Hakke smiled faintly.
‘I’ll leave you with the thought. Sleep well, Leif Egilsson.’
Leif heard the sound of his retreating footsteps and swore softly. It was hard to remain silent in the face of Hakke’s taunts and harder still to forget them. He wasn’t entirely sure that it had been mere baiting. The thought of Astrid sharing another man’s bed ought not to have mattered now, but somehow it still did. Mentally she was not so easy to dismiss. He also knew that Hakke knew it. Leif wouldn’t put it past him to make good the threat either. Equally disquieting was the knowledge of his imminent relocation. His enemies would choose somewhere that would render escape impossible and rescue increasingly unlikely. He clenched his fists and heard the chain clink softly. The sound only reinforced the present hopelessness of his predicament.
Chapter Eight
Ari’s death had not only appalled Astrid, it made her horribly aware that Dalla’s safety might also have been compromised. However, the old servant was stoical.
‘If your uncle knew about my part in this matter I’d already be hanging alongside Ari,’ she said.
‘I pray you are right. I’m sorry to have put you at risk.’
‘Such baseness should be beneath a man of your uncle’s standing.’
‘He enjoyed it,’ said Astrid. ‘Just as he will enjoy seeing me married to Gulbrand.’
‘Is it certain?’
‘Most certain. I dread it, but I have no choice now. If I defy him in any way Leif will pay for it.’ Tears pricked behind her eyelids. ‘I saw his face when I said those things, Dalla. It was like a knife in my heart.’
‘You did what you had to. Jarl Einar would not have hesitated to carry out his threat otherwise, and if not him, Hakke.’
‘I know, but it sickened me all the same.’
‘They sicken me,’ replied Dalla.
‘If Leif does not escape soon I fear he will never do so, but I have no idea how to achieve it. He is under guard by day and chained at night. If I go anywhere near him the consequences could be disastrous.’
‘You’re right. It would be just the excuse your uncle wants.’
‘If only there was some way of getting word to his men, but I fear they will be long gone by now.’
‘Do we know that for sure?’
‘It seems most likely.’
‘A way might be found. There are those hereabouts who have good reason to hate your uncle.’
‘Even assuming they could be trusted, I can’t ask anyone else to take such a risk.’
‘It’s Leif Egilsson’s only hope.’
‘I know it.’
‘Well, then.’
‘I can’t send another man to his death.’
‘You won’t have to. Enquiries could be made discreetly. News travels fast and a hall burning will not have gone unremarked. I have relatives nearby who will know what happened to the jarl’s crewmen.’
‘All right, but be very careful, Dalla. I would not have any harm come to you.’
The servant nodded. ‘I’ll be careful. In the meantime, you must seem to go along with your uncle’s plans. Let him think you’re becoming resigned.’
Resigned was the last thing Astrid felt, but she could see the sense of the proposal. ‘I’ll do it if it keeps Leif safe.’ She paused, thinking hard. ‘There may be something else I can do for him as well.’
‘What is that?’
‘Hakke wants Leif kept alive. It may be possible to use that as leverage to get him better food, maybe clothing too.’
‘If you suggest it your uncle will refuse.’
‘I was thinking of something more subtle.’
‘Such as?’
As Astrid explained her companion smiled. ‘It might just work.’
‘We’ll have to see, won’t we?’
* * *
Astrid’s opportunity came sooner than expected because that evening she was bidden to the hall and tasked with pouring ale for the noble guests. It was a function of the women to do so but up till now Astrid had been exempted from the duty. Given the present company she suspected it was intended as another humiliation. The very thought of spending any more time with her uncle was repellent but it was also necessary now, just as it was necessary to strike the right attitude. She couldn’t appear entirely resigned to her fate just yet: her uncle would smell a rat immediately. Instead she adopted a sulkily submissive demeanour that she hoped would serve the purpose. Then, grabbing a jug of ale, she went to refill the drinking horns at the top table. Prince Hakke eyed her speculatively for a moment and then turned to Jarl Einar.
‘It seems that your niece is learning obedience at last.’
‘She will be completely obedient, my lord,’ replied her uncle.
‘I know. Gulbrand will see to that.’
The two men chuckled heartily. Astrid schooled her expression to neutrality and continued pouring ale, aware of Hakke’s steady gaze.
‘Have you fed the slave yet?’ he asked.
‘Not yet.’ Jarl Einar summoned a servant. ‘Fetch a plate of scraps and be quick about it.’
A minute or two later the woman returned with a platter on which reposed a small piece of bread and two thin strips of fat and gristle. Jarl Einar nodded approvingly.
‘Take it out to the slave cur.’
Astrid concealed her dismay and overlaid it with a satisfied smile. Then she resumed her task. Her uncle frowned suspiciously.
‘Something amuses you, girl?’
‘Why, yes,’ she replied.
A large hand closed round her arm and dragged her closer. Ale slopped from the jug but he ignored it. ‘What?’ he demanded.
Astrid allowed her tone to become sarcastic. ‘You said that you wanted Lord Leif to live for a long time, and yet you feed him too little to keep him alive.’
‘He’ll live. He’ll just be a lot thinner, that’s all.’
She achieved a sneer. ‘No, he’ll be dead soon enough, and I’m glad of it.’
The grip on her arm tightened until she winced. ‘Let him starve. I care not.’
‘No!’ Hakke’s voice cut across them. ‘I want him alive. There will be no easy escape for him. Put some more food on the plate.’
For a moment or two it seemed as though Jarl Einar might argue. Then he appeared to think better of it and shrugged. ‘As you like.’
‘Your slave will still die of cold or disease,’ said Astrid, ‘and you’re too stupid to see it.’
Jarl Einar released his hold on her arm and slapped her hard. She gasped, holding her burning cheek.
‘That’s for impudence. Next time I’ll give you a good thrashing.’
Hakke laughed. ‘No need. You may rely on Gulbrand for that.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ her uncle replied. ‘She needs breaking to bridle.’
‘I almost envy my cousin the task.’
His gaze grew speculative again, mentally stripping her. Astrid’s skin crawled. However, she remained silent and presently her uncle dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Nothing loath, she left them. Her cheek hurt but it was worth it to get Leif some more food.
* * *
The following day Dalla sought out her mistress to say that while there was much talk of a hall burning no one seemed certain about what had happened to the intended victims. It was reported that they had fled before the attack and taken ship.
‘Then it’s over,’ said Astrid. ‘Leif is truly lost.’
‘I saw him earlier, from a distance, of course. They’ve set him to digging a new waste pit now, along with the other slaves.’
Astrid bit her lip. She might have succeeded in getting hi
m more food but nothing could relieve the humiliation and drudgery of thralldom. Conscience smote her because, indirectly, she was the reason for his downfall. If Leif hadn’t kept faith with her he’d still be free. Each passing hour brought them closer to separation and then she wouldn’t be able to help him in any way. Worst of all, he would continue to think she had been part of the plot against him, a misapprehension that she wanted to correct. It mattered, even though their acquaintance was brief. Not for anything would she have him think her false.
Soon Prince Gulbrand would arrive and when he did... She repressed a shudder. Her sisters had wept when they learned who their future husbands were, but her dominant emotion was not sadness. It was rage, and all the stronger for being impotent. There would be no escape for her any more than there would be for Leif.
* * *
The subject of her thoughts worked on, seemingly unaware of the curious glances directed at him from his co-workers. No one spoke though, and that suited him well, since it permitted him time to think. The past few days had brought unexpected changes: instead of being chained in the kennels he was locked in a shed at night. It was empty of everything save a sleeping mat but it was reasonably clean. He had been given a tunic too. It was a rough and dirty homespun cast-off of the kind that the other slaves wore, but better than nothing. Moreover, the amount of food had increased. Seemingly his enemies really didn’t want him to die just yet.
He thought back to his last conversation with Hakke. Far from breaking Leif’s resolve, the baiting only increased it. He would not spend the rest of his days in bondage. Somehow, some time he would escape. It might not be soon but one day he would break free and eventually he would be reunited with his kin and his shield companions. When that happened he would return with a force and avenge himself most bloodily on Jarl Einar and Hakke. After that he would turn his attention to Astrid. She would be married by then so it might take him a while to find her, but eventually he would succeed. He’d make it his mission. His revenge there would be of a rather different kind but it would be no less thorough. Then he’d walk away and forget her. She, on the other hand, would remember him for the rest of her life.
Defiant in the Viking's Bed Page 7