Goldhill's Treasure

by Jilly Bowling

  “Here kneel down and dunk your head in the bucket. The soap will kill the lice and then you can comb them out.”

  Doing as she was told Sophie was trembling like a leaf and despite himself Eirik felt sorry for her. Once her head had been in the bucket for a while he pulled her out and handed her the cloth and a bone comb, with large spaced teeth on one side and fine teeth on the other.

  “Comb out the tangles, then use the fine side,” he told her “plait your hair and it will help too. Once you’ve done that, roll up the furs and secure them with the ropes, then take them to the carts.”

  Going back to organise his men and see to his horse, Eirik was worried. He’d never come across a woman like Sophie. She was definitely not from one of the border settlements and her cleanliness and the way she spoke proved that she was very high born. But from where? The only people he knew who were cleaner than his people were those from Arabia and the east, how had she come to be here?

  After she’d dried her hair with the cloth Sophie combed the tangles out. She was surprised at how well the comb worked but when she used the fine side she was in tears again as it combed the lice out of her hair. However they were either dead or dying and her scalp didn’t itch anymore so she pulled herself together and plaited her hair into two thick plaits which she tied together at the back with a piece of the cloth she had dried herself on. She shook the furs out thoroughly before she rolled them up, shuddering at the thought of what might be in them, then she secured them with the rope Eirik had left. If she had to stay in this world she would be searching for lavender, rosemary and lemon balm, to keep the blood suckers at bay.

  After she’d taken the furs and bowls to a cart she didn’t know what to do so just stood there watching the activity in camp. Everyone seemed to know their jobs and things were quickly packed away into the saddle packs or carts. The woman, who had brought Eirik’s water, was returning the bowls the slaves had used for their porridge back to the cart Sophie had put the furs on and as she passed her deliberately bumped into her and then swore at her “Filthy haeg-tesse, unnatural slut!”

  Sophie grabbed her arm and said “What did you call me?”

  “Haeg-tesse, slut, rutting happily with the filthy Dane, any decent woman would have fought him and screamed her hate of them.”

  “I am no slut, did you fight the warrior I can still smell on your filthy body?” She was angry, partly because she hadn’t fought Eirik.

  The woman threw her bowls at her and launched herself at her grabbing her hair. Taken by surprise Sophie fell forward and received a deep scratch down her cheek. Then recovering herself she fought back and punched the woman on the chin, then she swept her legs from under her pushing her onto her back in the mud. By this time they were surrounded by warriors laying wagers on who would win.

  “What’s happening here?” Eirik roared pushing his way through the men. With their leaders appearance Leif and Stenar moved in, Leif grabbing Sophie while Stenar put his foot on the other woman’s chest, holding her down in the mud. As the men fell back Eirik strode into their midst, seeing Sophie in Leif’s arms he growled “Let her go. what happened here?”

  The woman on the ground was sobbing and shrieked “The haeg-tesse attacked me, I’m injured, let me up.”

  Stenar gave her a quick kick and said “Shut up.”

  “Don’t do that.” Sophie snapped going to step forward to help her.

  Eirik grabbed her around the waist “Stay still and tell me what happened.”

  Worried about what they might do Sophie tried to play it down, “We had a fight and I knocked her over.”

  “You admit that you hit her?” Eirik asked in surprise.

  “Yes.”

  “But why? Answer carefully Sophie, if you are at fault your punishment will be severe.”

  Realising that he was worried about what would happen to her if it was proved that she was at fault, she wisely told the truth.

  “I was just standing there and she bumped into me calling me haeg-tesse and slut, and when I answered back she grabbed my hair and pulled me off balance; then she scratched my face, so I punched her and swept her off her feet. She ended up in the mud.”

  Eirik examined her face, scowling when he saw the nasty scratch marring her beauty.

  “It’s a lie, she lies. I’m the one who’s hurt” the woman screeched. “You could have kept me, not taken a haeg-tesse to your bed.”

  Eirik finally took a good look at the woman and he growled “Has any man claimed this woman?”

  No one replied so he told Stenar to help her up. Her lip was bleeding and a bruise was already appearing on her chin. Eirik turned to Sophie “You did that? Let me see your hand.”

  Worried now she held out her hand and Eirik took her tiny fist in his giant hand and looked at her knuckles which were bright red. His lips quirked and he said “Some punch.”

  Then he turned back to the woman “You attacked my bed slave. It is the same as attacking me, twenty lashes.”

  The woman screamed and tried to struggle away from Stenar, but two others grabbed hold of her and dragged her to a tree, and tied her to it tightly. Then they ripped her dress down the back baring her buttocks and legs as she sobbed and screamed incoherently.

  Stenar was fondling a whip he’d taken out of his pack “I’ll do it shall I Eirik?” he grinned.

  Sophie grabbed hold of Eirik “No you can’t whip her, it’s inhuman, please don’t.”

  Pushing her away he growled “Don’t interfere in things you don’t understand. Rolf take her away.”

  As Rolf dragged her over to the carts Eirik turned back to Stenar “No, you enjoy it too much, Leif you do it.”

  At the first crack of the whip and horrific screams from the woman Sophie collapsed into Rolf, burying her head in his shoulders.

  “Don’t do that” he said pushing her away “You are Eirik’s, he would kill me for touching you.”

  “He wouldn’t care” Sophie sobbed “He’s a beast, how could he have a woman beaten like that?”

  Rolf looked at her in amazement “She is a slave, he can do what he wants with her. Anyhow he’s doing it for you.”

  “For me? No, then I’ll stop it.” She went to run to stop this terrible thing.

  Rolf grabbed her saying “Stay here or he will punish you too for disobeying him. Slaves must not be allowed to disobey us, it would be too dangerous; don’t forget these are our enemies and we only rule them by fear. He is doing it for you too or these filthy dogs would kill you as a stranger.”

  Sophie shivered, this world was so cruel and violent, she’d never learn to live like this. Why had this happened to her, hadn’t she had enough to contend with in her own world?

  The punishment seemed to go on for ever, with each crack of the whip the woman’s screams grew less until she was eventually making a continuous whimpering noise. Finally it was over and she was untied from the tree and carried over to the slave chains. By this time Sophie was crouching on the ground her hands over her ears, sobbing softly. She sensed rather than saw Eirik towering over her and when his hands grasped her shoulders and hauled her to her feet she still couldn’t see him for the tears in her eyes.

  He shook his head “You didn’t make a murmur when you were hurt and punished, yet you cry for an enemy. Truly you are deranged.”

  Then he picked her up and carried her to where his horse was waiting. Standing her on the ground he searched in his saddle pack, taking out an ornate collar and a tiny bowl of thick oil wrapped in clean linen. Using a piece of clean cloth he wiped the blood off her cheek then smeared the deep scratch with the oil. She flinched as it stung and at the strong smell of leeks and garlic. He held her head still until he had finished his ministrations saying “It will stop any poison from the woman’s filthy fingers.”

  Surmising that it was some kin
d of ancient antiseptic Sophie allowed him to cover the whole scratch.

  “If it scars I will kill her,” he growled.

  Wisely she held her tongue but when he picked up the collar and snapped it around her neck she stepped back and said “What is this?”

  “It’s your slave collar, to let everyone know you are my property. No one will dare touch you while you wear that.”

  Once again wisdom overruled her natural inclination to say that she was no one’s property, so she kept quiet.

  “When we reach Weorgoranceastre remember you are a slave and call all Danes Master or Mistress. To hide your strangeness we will say that you must have received a bang on the head and have lost your memory. Keep quiet, do not speak and maybe Jarl Ubbe will overlook you.”

  Sophie frowned “Why would he be interested in me?”

  Eirik looked at her in amazement, then shook his head “You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, exactly the type Jarl Ubbe likes, and you are from an unknown tribe. If you are a princess or high born he would torture you until you told him who your family is and where from, then he would hold you to ransom. Now that I have claimed you as mine he will not take you just to hump, but if he thinks you are worth gold then he would. He would hold you to ransom but would also use you until your family paid up.”

  “But I have no family here.” She swayed exhausted by fear.

  “Exactly, so he would keep you until he either killed you during one of his depraved games or got tired of you. Now, you will have to walk into Weorgoranceastre with the slave chain or that will attract attention to you. As my bed slave you will need to be protected from the Saxons, so I will get Rolf to lead you behind his horse. Don’t start any more fights!”

  “I didn’t” she snapped then stopped as Eirik growled at her “I’m sorry, i mean I won’t master.”

  Eirik grinned “Learn fast Sophie.” then he shouted for Rolf and gave him his orders.

  Leading her over to where the slaves were getting into lines, Rolf fastened a rope around her waist and took her to the back of a line. It was difficult walking behind Rolf’s horse but she could see that it would have been worse in the chains so she didn’t complain. Thinking about it all she realised that in his own barbaric way Eirik had treated her well. she would have to totally rethink the way she thought about things if she wanted to survive in this world, and would really have to toughen up.

  The woman who had been punished kept falling over but none of the other slaves, male or female, helped her. Everybody was studiously ignoring her and she realised that they were as cruel as the Danes. Evidently in this world each person just looked out for themselves and she knew that if she wanted to survive she must do the same.

  Her first sight of Worcester surprised her, she had thought that it was a walled city but the settlement she saw was far from that. Parts of it had been burned to the ground and the walls were mainly wooden; she must be further back in time than she had thought. As they neared the settlement people ran out to meet them and a group of horsemen came out through the much repaired gates.

  Remembering Eirik’s warning Sophie kept her head down and tried to stay hidden behind Rolf’s horse. As the horsemen came closer one shouted, in their native tongue, “Well come Eirik, you have a fine haul there.”

  “Yes, we found some very rich farms and halls, there will be plenty to eat this winter.” Eirik answered.

  Coming up level with him the horseman slapped him on the back and Eirik clutched his arm saying “I found the Saxon scums hidden treasures.”

  “And many slaves I see. All young and strong looking. What are the women like?”

  “Filthy Saxon sluts for the most part.” Eirik said dismissively.

  As they passed through the gates, the carts and slaves were taken in one direction and Eirik followed the horsemen. Rolf hesitated and then followed the carts dragging Sophie along behind him. They reached a large covered pen and the slaves were herded inside, including Sophie. The Danes herding them were equipped with whips and stout sticks, as well as the swords and axes they all carried, and whipped the slaves into place as if they were a herd of animals. Sophie found a spot near the outer fence and squatted down, she was tired, hungry and thirsty, and very frightened. What was going to happen to her now, had Eirik forgotten about her?

  In fact Eirik had forgotten her in the hustle and bustle of getting the animals, food and precious objects stored away. The animals and food went into the stores to see the Danes over the winter that was descending on them all too quickly, and the weapons, kitchen utensils, furs and clothing would be divided up, in different shares for the warriors, in descending order of importance. The precious items belonged to Eirik, of which he usually gave a third share to Ubbe and some items to Leif and Stenar his lieutenants.

  By late afternoon order had been brought about and he took a minute to have a drink and chunk of cheese. Casting his eye over his store rooms he was pleased with what he saw. Definitely in the spring he would return to the Jorvik and implement improvements to his land. Then he saw Rolf sitting by a fire with a tankard in his hand and he remembered Sophie.

  “Rolf” he called “Where is my bedslave?”

  “In with the others.” Rolf answered carelessly.

  “What? You put her in the pen?” Eirik said furiously.

  “Well yes.” Rolf stood up, worried now. “You told me to keep her with the others.”

  “By thor’s beard” Eirik roared “Are you stupid, boy? If she has been harmed I’ll have your hide.”

  Then he strode over to the slave pens in search of her.

  ***

  Sophie had had a terrifying afternoon. The Saxons in the pen called her names and some of the women spat at her and pulled her hair hard. Luckily because it was in a tight plait they had only managed to pull little bits out, but her scalp was sore and bleeding in places. She’d discovered that if she stood close to the wooden fence she could protect herself with her feet and make enough noise to attract a guard. They chased the Saxons away with their swords and whips but also gave her a thump for being a troublemaker.

  They had been given no food or water and in her dress with no other covering, she was frozen. Many of the slaves huddled together for warmth, but apart from abusing her, none came near her and being on the outer edge of the pen the wind was cutting; she dare not curl up to preserve her body heat as she was sure that someone would kill her, although she did wonder why she wanted to live.

  Hearing loud voices she turned lack lustre eyes on the gate of the pen and nearly fainted in relief to see Eirik. He saw her straight away and strode through the gate to reach her, the guards by his side to control the Saxons. One look at her and he realised how close to freezing she was and he picked her up in his arms ordering a guard to put his cloak over her. The warmth of his body and sheer relief overwhelmed her and she passed out.

  She came around lying on and under warm furs, in a dark room lit by a brazier. When she tried to sit up she groaned at the pain in her body and moving the furs that covered her she discovered that she was a mass of bruises, over her shoulders, breasts, hips and back. Her scalp hurt and she felt dizzy and disoriented, with very dry lips and mouth. As her eyes became accustomed to the gloom she saw a wooden mug next to the bed and when she picked it up saw that it was full of water. She drank a little, holding it in her mouth and moistening her lips with it, then lay back down disinclined to move too much.

  The door opened and a woman came in dressed in a plain tunic and leggings. Her hair was shorn close to her head and she wore a thick collar around her neck.

  “Ah good, you are awake. I will fetch you some food.”

  “Where am I?” Sophie asked.

  “In Thegn Eirik’s quarters, I am his house slave Alta.”

  “Thank you, I’m Sophie.”

  “Yes my m
aster told me your name.”

  “Where is Eirik?”

  Alta frowned “Our master is at the ‘natmal’, with Jarl Ubbe and the other Danes.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “Master has told me to look after you, so is there something you want?”

  “Well, some food would be nice, please and where is my dress?”

  “Master took it off you, so I don’t know. You’d better stay there where he put you.” Alta warned.

  Sophie nodded her head and winced as her scalp throbbed.

  “I see the Saxon scum didn’t like you.”

  “No they were a bit rough” Sophie murmured “You’re not Saxon then?”

  “No of course not,” the woman was offended, “I am Angle from the north country.”

  “Oh yes, I see.” Sitting up and talking suddenly became too much and Sophie subsided down into the furs. Alta compressed her lips and went out of the room but was back quickly with a bowl of stew that smelled delicious. Sophie’s stomach rumbled and she struggled to sit up. Once she was propped up Alta handed her the bowl and a spoon and left her to it. The stew was mostly vegetables with a little meat, lamb Sophie thought, carrots, parsnips leeks onions and beans. It was thick and flavoursome and there was plenty of it. She managed to eat the lot, then sank back exhausted. As she closed her eyes and slipped into a deep sleep the thought crossed her mind that if Eirik hadn’t come for her, would she have had the strength to survive the night.

  Chapter 11

  In the light of early dawn Eirik stirred, groaning at his aching head. They had feasted well the night before and as the ale flowed, the tales that were told had grown. Each raid and battle had been described in detail, the women taken made more beautiful as the alcohol dulled the men’s minds. Talk of beautiful women had made Eirik try to stand up and stagger away from the rutting taking place around him, but one of Ubbe’s house slaves had taken hold of him and in his inebriated state he had fallen on her and humped her until he’d passed out.

  When he woke he had no regret, it was a warrior’s way, fight to the death, drink until he couldn’t stand and hump anything you fell on, but in his hard Viking way he wondered if Sophie had survived her ordeal without any lasting damage. One thing was certain a woman he took as his bed slave had to be strong and healthy; when she gave him sons they had to be strong to make their way in his world.