by T S Florence
“I’m coming,” he said, he voice final.
They spent the morning readying the horses for the short ride outside of Newcastle’s gates. The farm was nestled amongst green sprawling fields, filled with fat, woolly sheep.
“It looks expensive,” Ragnar noted.
“It is expensive,” Rose said.
“You made this money quickly,” Ragnar said to Rose.
“Men often don’t know the true worth of what they own,” Rose glanced over at Ragnar as she spoke those words.
“But you do,” Ragnar said.
“I must,” Rose said.
The man was waiting out the front of the property with a wife and two small children.
“Did you bring a scribe? We cannot read or write,” the man said to Rose as she approached.
“I can read and write,” Rose said.
“How can I trust you?” The man said, looking between Ragnar and Torsten.
At that, Rose handed the man a heavy bag of coins. The man’s eyes widened as he peered inside.
“I did not expect- not all at once,” the man stuttered.
“I don’t like outstanding loans,” Rose smiled.
“It feels like more than what we agreed,” the man said.
“It is. you can use the extra pay for your children to be taught how to read, write, and count” Rose said, “these are the most important things.”
A piece of parchment that already had words written on it was drawn out of a saddlebag.
“And this will go into your husband’s name, this Ragnar fellow?” The man said, not bothering to look up at Ragnar.
Rose’s eyes shot up to Ragnar, wide with surprise. “I-” she began, but was obviously at a loss for words.
“You’re putting this in my name?” Ragnar asked.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Rose said.
“What else is in my name?” Ragnar asked.
“What?” Rose said.
“Do you use my name when you deal with other men in the markets?” Ragnar began to piece together how Rose had so easily dealt with other merchants in such a short space of time.
“Men do not like to trade with an unmarried girl,” Rose clipped.
“So you take the benefit of my name, without actually marrying me?” Ragnar asked.
“Hold on, you’re not actually married?” The man interrupted.
“Shut up, peasant,” Ragnar said.
“Ragnar,” Rose hissed in embarrassment.
She turned to the man. “this property will be in his name, it does not concern you who operates here,” Rose said, before turning to Ragnar.
“You do all of this for freedom, yet I still own everything,” Ragnar found the situation humorous.
“Yes, it seems it isn’t so easy to separate myself from you as I thought,” Rose clipped.
“Shall we just marry to save you the trouble of these nonsense contracts,” Ragnar said.
“No, Ragnar. I am still operating separate to you,” Rose said, her face growing red.
“But you hold all this contract that says this land is mine?” Ragnar said, confused.
“Yes, but it is mine,” Rose said.
“Well, not really,” Ragnar said, with a smug look on his face.
“I can put it into someone else’s name. Torsten’s for example,” Rose turned to Torsten, who was not listening to a word they had been saying, for he and Brenna were giggling together about something entirely unrelated.
“It’s mine,” Rose said, her eyes challenging.
“I know,” Ragnar conceded.
The man stood silently with his wife and children as Rose signed the parchment, and then told the man where to put his scribble - an uneducated man’s signature.
Ragnar began to see the difficulty that a woman faced without a man standing behind her. Maybe one day, women, with their cleverness, would reach a point in history where they did not need to rely on man to do what they wished. But this was not that point in history.
“Let me look after the contract,” Ragnar said.
“Why?” Rose said, looking at Ragnar suspiciously.
“It is an important thing. I will keep it in my treasury,” Ragnar said.
“As long as I have access to the treasury,” Rose said.
“Of course,” Ragnar said.
Ragnar demounted his horse and looked inside the house. It contained two rooms and one large living room, where the cooking and eating took place.
“You would leave my house to live here?” Ragnar asked.
“I would,” Rose said.
“Very well. Well, you know where my treasury is. Good luck with your business,” Ragnar said.
He mounted his horse, kicked into its stomach, and did not look back. If it was freedom from him that she wanted, then that is what he would give her. Free the girl. If she returns, it was meant to be.
Rose
Rose was making more money, more quickly than ever before. But there was one problem. One thing that was going to make everything just a little more difficult. One thing, or person, growing in her stomach.
It was in the middle of summer. A bead of sweat ran down her back, under the excessive layers of clothing that she wore in an attempt to hide the small bump that was beginning to take place.
She was packing up her morning stall when a woman covered in a tattered cloak approached her. Rose’s stomach turned into a twisted, uncomfortable ball of nerves.
“You sit here, mixing with merchants and traders, with dirty money? This is not what god intended for chaste women,” The lady said.
“God did not intend for woman to abandon her daughter, Elsbeth,” Rose said back.
“I did not abandon you. You joined the heathens. You lay with a heathen,” Rose’s mother hissed.
“I had no choice, I was a child,” Rose’s voice quivered.
“I can only pray for your salvation,” Elsbeth said, before she turned and walked away.
Not a moment longer than Elsbeth had left, Jack arrived on horseback. “Did she make it here?” Jack asked, breathless.
“Yes,” Rose said, quietly.
“Rose, she’s half mad. She has been since you were taken. Her mind never returned to normal,” Jack said.
“You don’t even know what she said,” Rose replied.
“I know it would have involved eternal damnation and some other nonsense about god or heathens or vikings,” Jack said, “It’s always more or less the same,” he finished.
“Thank you,” Rose said.
“For what?” Jack asked, as he looked into the crowd, searching for their mother.
“For looking out for me,” Rose said.
“You’re my little sister,” Jack said.
“We’re twins,” Rose said, straight faced.
“I was born first, little sister,” Jack said. He nodded to his sister and continued his search for their mother.
Rose carried her day’s profits in a sack over her shoulder. “The woman was right, you don’t deserve that money, sinner,” A man from across the market said, as she passed him by. He sold vegetables, which made Rose confused. Why should a man who she serves no competition to, be angry with her?
She ignored his comment and continued on, letting the comment fuel her ambition to keep moving forwards. To gain a place in society where people dared not challenge her. Where she was free to simply live. With a child. Single.
That night, she made a mutton stew with Torsten and Brenna. They had become close. Torsten and Brenna were now married. Torsten made his own way as Ragnar’s man, but Brenna was working for Rose. She was learning to dye and knit woollen clothing, to sell in the markets.
Approaching hooves drew their attention to the door.
Torsten placed his bowl on the table reached for his sword that only a soldier who had faced death in battle countless times could do with such calmness.
“Go wait in the other room,” Torsten said to Brenna and Rose.
They did so without que
stion.
After brief talking, Torsten called to Rose and Brenna “It’s safe.”
The girls came from the bedroom, to find a man from Isla’s house guard at their front door.
“The princess would have you as her guest for dinner, tomorrow night,” The guard said.
“She sent you herself?” Rose asked.
“Yes,” the guard said.
“Tell her I accept, and I look forward to seeing her,” Rose said.
“What do you think the princess wants?” Brenna asked, after the guard had gone.
“She probably just wants to catch up. I’ve been so busy lately, I’ve hardly had a chance to see her,” Rose said.
“I should knit her a jumper for you to give her as a gift,” Brenna said.
“That’s a good idea. Repaying the money she loaned was insignificant, for money means little to a princess. A hand-made gift would be perfect,” Rose said.
“I have some freshly died wool ready to knit, I will start tonight,” Brenna beamed.
Torsten was already sitting back in his usual position, eating his food.
“Ragnar’s clothing is looking a little worse for wear these days,” Torsten said, absentmindedly.
Rose’s ears pricked up at the name, “Then he should buy some more,” she replied curtly.
“You know what he’s like. If it’s not a weapon or shield, he’s not very interested in shopping,” he said nonchalantly.
“I will not make Ragnar clothes that he has not asked for,” Rose clipped.
Part of her was concerned, however. She had not seen Ragnar since she had taken possession of the farm, and that was almost four weeks ago.
[TIME STAMP HERE]
“I’m so glad you could make it,” Isla ran to Rose as she walked through the huge wooden front doors of the castle.
“I can’t say no to a princess,” Rose laughed.
“That’s right. Maybe I will ask for you to join me every night,” Isla said.
“Thank you for the escort,” Rose said, “this is for you. Brenna did all of the work,” Rose handed Isla the brightly coloured, blue jumped.
“Rose, this is so exciting! It’s just like the one you gave me as a child. It’s so hard to find clothing of this quality, usually we have to wait for merchants from Frankia,” Isla said.
“I’m glad you like it,” Rose was proud of the work, even though it wasn’t her own work. It was much needed validation that her clothing would sell well in the markets. She held onto the hessian bag with the other, extra large clothes that she had made for Ragnar.
The dinner was the finest food that could be eaten. Perfectly roasted vegetables and meat, with strawberries and fresh cream for dessert.
“Have you seen Ragnar lately?” Ivar asked, as they sat back at the large table, watching the courtiers eat and gossip below them.
“No, he hasn’t come to see me,” Rose said back to Ivar.
“Have you gone to see him? You did leave him, after all,” Ivar said.
“I left him? I moved outside the castle walls. When he left me, he left the entire country,” Rose clipped.
Ivar stretched out, and patted his stomach, clearly satisfied with the night’s food. “You get to know a man in a shield wall,” Ivar said.
“Why are you telling me this?” Rose asked.
“Ragnar left without you because there was no way he could have looked after you when he first came here,” Ivar said.
“He was not worried for me. He was worried about his own glory and reputation,” Rose said.
“Is that what you think?” Ivar asked.
“It’s what I know,” Rose said.
“He was not proud of leaving you in Fyrkat,” Ivar said.
“He did it anyway,” Rose clipped.
“It was necessary,” Ivar said.
“Why?” Rose asked.
“A man will step on other men, or be stepped on by other men,” Ivar said.
“What does that mean, exactly?” Rose asked.
“Ragnar built himself a reputation and wealth, and then he went back for you. No man can take you from him, or anything else, for that matter. His notoriety spreads further than you might think,” Ivar said.
“I know. He’s an Earl now in our home country,” Rose sighed.
“You know the mad Scots,” Ivar said.
“Of course I know the wild Scotsmen. We never went further north than Newcastle because of them,” Rose replied.
“Ragnar’s name is feared throughout Scotland,” Ivar said.
“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Rose asked.
“Maybe, maybe not. But I am impressed, and I’m hard to impress,” Ivar said. He paused for a moment, as if weighing Rose in his mind.
“Everything he has done in his life can be traced back to you. Every man he has killed in battle, every victory he has won for me. He has done it with you at the front of his mind, and you in the back of his mind. He did it knowing where he came from, and who was waiting for him, and he did it with the vision of where he wanted to end up. Although I’m guessing that this current ending isn’t quite what he had in mind,” Ivar said.
“Who wanted me for dinner exactly? You, Isla, or Ragnar?” Rose said, challenging him.
“Me,” Ivar said.
“I did as well, Rose, I even suggested to have you last week but we had to leave the city because of the problem in the North,” Isla said, with a pleading voice.
“A problem that Ragnar solved for me,” Ivar said.
“How did he solve it?” Rose asked.
“By doing what he does best,” Ivar said, “and he’s doing it better right now than ever. So I certainly am not saying this out of my best interests, because an angry Ragnar is a fearsome warrior,” Ivar said.
“Then why do you do it,” Rose asked, becoming heated.
“Because Ragnar is not happy. I have seen Ragnar happy, and he has not been happy ever since he heard news of your town being raided by vikings,” Ivar said.
“And you’re suggesting that his source of unhappiness is my doing?” Rose clipped.
“No, I’m saying his source of unhappiness is his own doing, but I am certain that if he becomes happy, then it will definitely be your doing,” Ivar said.
“I’m feeling tired. Isla, thank you for the food. I should be going,” Rose stood from her chair.
It was a great insult to stand before a royal stood after eating, but neither Ivar nor Isla said a word. Curious faces turned to observe the spectacle, but Isla rose a split second after, to prevent people from talking. Though, in truth, people would still talk.
“Rose please, I didn’t think Ivar would say all of that,” Isla said, sending daggers to her husband.
“I just-” Ivar began, before Isla hit his shoulder, ordering him to silence.
“I’m walking you out,” Isla continued.
“I’m sorry,” Rose signed, “I just get so worked up when it comes to Ragnar,” she wrung her hands together.
“I can see that,” Isla said.
“He makes me furious,” Rose said.
“Ivar made me furious as well. He still does,” Isla laughed.
“Truly?” Rose asked.
“He kidnapped me. I attempted to escape several times. Once, I escaped successfully, but eventually he found me, took me with him, and saved my life,” Isla said.
“Saved your life?” Rose asked, confused.
“My uncle wanted me dead. Long story. Anyway, I think that despite your anger with Ragnar, there is a connection that goes far beyond that anger, and that’s more than I had with Ivar, to start. So, I think you should at least consider letting him back in. He’s so awful to be around these days, with his temper,” Isla said.
“He is not my responsibility,” Rose said, feeling overwhelmed at people trying to take charge of her life.
“I know that. And I know you. You want him bad. I could tell you were sleeping together,” Isla smiled.
“I’m not married,” Rose s
tuttered.