Thank you very much for your comments and reviews, with St Patrick's Day coming up, and a holiday, I might get a chance to put some meat on this story's bones!
Chapter 12
Jack MacHyde loved being a trader, sailing from Dubh Linn, from the warm dry lands of Byzantium, the crossroads of East and West, to the cold bustling port of Hedeby, up and down the rivers of Europe. He earned his coin by trade and trickery, deals and deception. There was always ways to cheat an extra scrap of silver out of the transactions. There were suspicions around him, but none could confirm his underhandedness. His sire had taught him well, but had become complacent; two years ago when he was a score in age his father had been found with a blade in his heart, the hilt of the dagger removed. No evidence of his killer, a rival merchant suspected of the deal.
Slouching down on the dais, he eyed the interaction between Helgena and the boy, barely a young man, envy and jealousy eating at him like lye. The fosterling was distinctive in features, with his red hair, tall frame and eyes as stormy grey as the north sea, and it was evident that Helgena favoured him in her teachings publicly and in the hall, and privately in her chamber. A sharp pain seized his hand, as he looked down and saw the trickle of blood caused by his fingernails puncturing his flesh.
He had lain with Helgena often since she had taken him as an untried youth. The Shetland Jarlshof had been a familiar stop over the past number of summers, and he was welcomed with open arms, and legs. Other women were not as willing in bed-sport as Helgena, and he had to use other methods of persuasion to have them comply, normally his fists and his strength. But today Helgena only had time for Kristr Greysteinn, and he would eventually rid the world of his rival.
Anna woke up, the feel of Kristr's even breathing warm on her neck. Her cheeks pinked as she thought of the previous eve, and how Maria had left her bound and helpless on the bed for Kristr. Perhaps this was a Norse tradition, but more likely the actions of a playful younger sister used to getting her own way. Without wakening Kristr, she tried to move onto her side, her muscles stiff from unfamiliar use. Relaxing her head into the crook of her arm, she watched him sleep, her eyes roaming down his body, over his muscular chest, studying the beautiful outline of his tattoo, down the fine trail of hair to his navel, stopping as she saw his shaft, rising again. She held her breath as she watched, as if it had a life of its own.
'Curious, Sweetling?' Kristr opened one eye and looked up at her, smirking at her stunned expression. 'I trust you slept well, as I did.' He followed her gaze to his now near fully erect cock, saluting them proudly. 'Tis the effect you have on me in the morning.' Or afternoon. Or evening. He reached up and tugged her half-done braid, wispy and fuzzy from the lovemaking of the previous eve.
She clamped her hands over her face, peeking out between her fingers, 'I slept well, considering, considering I'm such a hussy!' How could she face Maria today? Or Catherine? Or Gertrude?
Chuckling softly, he prised her fingers from her face, 'Maybe, but you are my hussy. I could have you warm my furs every day and night.' Mesmerised by the unfamiliar view in front of her, she continued to stare; in the cool morning light he looked even bigger than the night before. He rolled over to kiss her, and she giggled, as she feigned an innocent struggle, before returning his embrace. 'Come here, little sweet,' he pulled her back onto the bed as he gave a mock growl, 'I need to feel my little hussy, my greedy little piglet, again.' She laughed in approval, thinking of his first name for her on the boat. He paused, 'Are you sure, you might feel a little tender this morn.'
'I am fine. Mayhap a little sore, but nothing that some more lovemaking with a fine Nordic Viking cannot remedy.'
Giving a squeal of delight that Maria would have been proud of, he tugged her ankles, sliding her down the bed. 'Now let me see what I can do to help you overcome your current ailment!'
She must have fallen asleep again, as she woke up to hearing Kristr shuffling about the hall. She looked at the tell tale sign of her purity on the silky sealskin fur that was now folded neatly on the chest. She blushed as she realised it was he who had tidied the chamber.
She tiptoed out from behind the curtain to see a blazing hearth and a tub of warm water, the steam rising in curls to the ceiling. A trencher of bread, cheese and ham was sitting on the bench, with a jug of buttermilk.
'Come, let me care for you, lest Maria return and demand to carry out the duty whilst she questions you on our activities of yester-eve!' Holding her hands, he helped her into the tub as the water lapped over her skin. Taking a cloth, he rubbed her skin in soft gentle circles, his eyes never leaving contact with hers. He cupped the warm water in his hands as he rinsed her body, washing away her virginal life, cleansing her of her own perceived sin of wantonness.
Carefully wrapping her in a soft clean linen, he led her back to the chamber, and laid her on the bed. A sensuous aroma filled the air as he uncorked a small vial of oil. She inhaled deeply. 'This is oil of rose, from Babylon,' he whispered, as he anointed her pale skin, massaging her lean muscles, worshipping her external beauty with his hand and eyes, her internal grace with his heart and soul. She may be his hostage in the eyes of both Irish and Norse law, but he was imprisoned to her now in love. No amount of silver would meet that ransom.
Only after he had felt he had come some way into treating her as the goddess she was to him, did he help her into her clothes, and take her to the main hall where they could finally break their fast. She cut the food up in to small pieces, and taking a morsel of bread and ham and a small slice of cheese, she fed Kristr slowly, lovingly, taking the same care in giving him his meal as he had just lavished on her.
The sensuousness silence was broken by the now-familiar squeal of Maria as she bounced down the hall. Swinging Anna in her arms she put her down as she gave Kristr a long look. 'Oh do tell! Did you? Did you?' looking from Kristr to Anna to Kristr she squealed again. 'You did! I'm going to have a sister!' She called to Catherine who was standing quietly by the entrance 'Cath-erine! Come here!' She playfully punched her brother's shoulder, 'Soon I shall have two sisters!'
'Maria!' Kristr called in exasperation! 'You have meddled enough! Leave us be, you silly girl lest I find you a husband, should there be a poor man fool enough to marry you!' Maria gave a mock pout. 'Stop spoiling my fun! I have been waiting so long to see you happy!'
The quiet bubble of their lovers' time was now well and truly burst, as reality came flooding back to Anna. There were no regrets from her time with Kristr, but there may be some awkward conversations ahead, as her time on the steading was still marked as that of a hostage.
'We shall have to face your parents eventually, Kristr.'
'I know. I am surprised that my father has not already arrived here. I am quite sure Maria has informed the entire steading.' He loved his sister dearly, but her exuberance and enthusiasm for life would try the patience of even the hermit monks from Ireland.
Anna decided it was time that she followed Catherine's lead, and take part in the running of the steading. She was not sure what her standing would be. Catherine was accepting of her concubine status here. Was she one now too? What would the Christian priest at St Aonghus think of her ruination, and did she even care at the moment. The Greysteinn steading may as well be on the moon, she was so far from home.
She stood up. 'I shall ask Gertrude what I can do. I'm a very good seamstress, and on RathSteele I wove some of the finest cloth within four leagues,' the pride evident on her face.
'Maybe you were, and I am quite sure Gertrude will be delighted to have your skills put to use, but today I would like to start teaching you how to use a dagger. Twill give you some defence against raiders and marauders.'
She paled. Marauders? Did these Vikings raid each other? Sensing her fear, he smoothed his finger over the lines on her forehead. 'Shhh, no lines. It is a very rare occurrence, but all men and women should have at least the means to protect themselves enough to flee to safety.'
Looking into his eyes, she thought of their first encounter and the blazing fury, now twinkling silver, which had met her that day. 'Would a dagger have stopped you?'
Pausing as he considered her words, 'Nei, it would not have stopped me, but tell me this, what would have been your choice, to fight and fail and know you did everything in your power to protect yourself, or not fight at all, and surrender in anger and frustration at your lack of skill?' She could not argue with that, as she thought of the fear and fury she had felt when she had no control over her own life. Decisions in her life had been made by men. This man was offering a choice.
'When can we start?'
Kristr found his father with the blacksmith, assisting the giant smithy as he sweated and pounded on a white hot lump of metal, the clanging loud and abrasive on his ears after the calming morning he had experienced with Anna. 'May I speak with you Fadir?'
Kerik pulled off the heavy leather apron protecting his tunic and skin from the heat. 'I believe you have some news to share with me, my son.' Kristr rolled his eyes. Maria. There were no secrets on the steading when she was in residence.
'Ja, Fadir. It is true.' He needed say no more.
'She is still your hostage. What are your intentions?' Kerik had to remind his son that surrendering the ransom price was not an option. He would never be respected as a merchant again, despite how noble the action may have felt. 'I have not changed my mind from our previous discussions. You may take her to see her father, but without silver, she must return here until four seasons have passed. Then, and only then when she becomes your property rather than your hostage, can you free her, and take her as your concubine or wife.' Kristr had no option but to agree with his father. The terms were harsh, but it was he who had set the original plan in motion, not his sire.
'What status may she have on the steading?'
'Her status remains that of your hostage. She will be cared for, and protected, but she will not have the rights that Catherine now enjoys.' It was not easy to treat his beloved second son in this way, given that he had brought an Irish woman into his own life a score and three years ago. For his son's sake, he sincerely hoped that the silver would not be sourced by Anna's menfolk.
Anna found Catherine in the kitchen again, not breadmaking this time, but learning from Gertrude how to prepare the stew for the dinner, grinning in delight each time she said a word correctly. She called to her friend, and both women looked up from their chopping. Catherine dropped her cutting knife and ran to her friend.
'Have I heard correctly?' she giggled as Anna blushed. Her language skills were developing much faster than Anna's and she had a fairly good understanding of what Maria had been up to the night before.
'Aye, 'tis true. I suppose I am a woman now.'
'We are both women.' Catherine smiled shyly at Anna. After hearing of Maria's antics, she had taken it upon herself to throw caution to the wind and herself at Ellrik the previous eve. And, because news had not yet reached Maria's ears, their bed play was not the talk of the steading. They hugged in a long embrace, lost in their thoughts of their previous life.
'What of Joseph and your agreement?' Catherine sighed. It was never her agreement, or Joseph's. It was an arrangement made when they were children. 'I do not know. But I love Joseph like a brother. I hope he will understand. He has the right to meet a woman who will love him as a husband.'
Their chattering was interrupted by a soft coughing from Gertrude. She stroked each girl's cheek, murmuring softly in her own language. Anna turned to Catherine, and whispered 'What does she say?'
Catherine looked up at Gertrude, her eyes shining with joy. 'Dottir. She calls us Daughter.'
Gertrude's other daughter ran into the kitchen, wide-eyed and breathless. 'There's a ship coming through the fjord, it has been sighted by Taylr, and the sail does not bear our colours!'
Anna did not know whether her heart leapt or her stomach sank. What of her and Kristr?
