Ireland 866 CE

The warm blood ran down Maerinn's left hand which held the dagger, while her right hand gripped the head of the sheep. She had done the deed quickly, efficiently, as many times before but she still never enjoyed killing one of her flock. The ram would provide several meals for the clan and the wool hide would be used to make a cloak for winter. She finished bleeding out the sheep and began to gut it. A cool wind blew over the yard and Maerinn wiped her brow and surveyed the round houses that made up the homes of her clan in the distance. A twig snapped to her right and she turned her attention to that direction.

"You haven't got to do that," Brion's voice reached her before she actually saw him. His figure, red haired a short stocky build, was obscured in the shadow of the nearby oak tree.

"Yes, I do," she argued firmly. "I might as well be of use somehow. You said so yourself."

"Maerinn I...I never meant that and you know it," he said gently, stepping out into the light.

"It doesn't matter if you meant it. You were right. What good is a wife if she can't have children?" she asked bitterly, her eyes fixed at the blood on her hands because she was unable to look at him.

Brion sighed. "Please do not begin this argument anew, sister. I had only meant to warn you but it was a stupid thing to say...your husband has another wife for giving him children. You have given him something else. You have given him wealth. Your herd of sheep is the largest in all the countryside and the wool you produce brings more profit than a dozen children."

Maerinn wiped her bloody hands in the grass and turned to face him. "And what if it doesn't? What if my sheep take a sickness and die? Or a fire destroys my stored wool before I can sell it? What is to stop my husband from selling me off then when I am of no more use to him?"

"I am. I am to stop him," Brion said firmly as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "You are the daughter of a chieftain, the daughter of a king. Aiden needs the allegiance of our clan. His own family is too small for him to risk angering us. Your husband knows that."

"He does…" Maerinn nodded, trying to hold back her tears. She was doing all she could to convince herself that her brother spoke the truth all the while knowing somewhere deep down that Brion was wrong. Aiden would sell her if he had the right opportunity. He didn't care for her the way he cared for his other wife Bridget. "But he is not exactly a wise man."

"No he isn't. Perhaps his stupidity will work in your favor," Brion suggested. "Let me help you finish dressing this ram and then you will come and visit Da and I for a fortnight?"

"I don't know if Aiden will allow it," Maerinn said, unsure.

"He'll have to. Da is ill. That's why I came to find you."

"Da is ill?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

"Not that ill. He's not on his deathbed. He could use your help to heal him though. You have always been good at that."

Brion helped Maerinn complete her butchering and dressing of the ram. He was her elder brother by only a year and though they had three other brothers and Brion had a wife and five children of his own, he had always been close to his only sister. For the entire nine years since she had married Aiden, Brion had been walking the three mile journey to come visit his only sister every week. Since her husband no longer held any affection for her, and Bridget his other wife was rude and condescending whenever she could be, Maerinn depended on these chats with Brion to keep herself sane. He was her real family and her only friend.

When they had finished the work, Brion slung the carcass of the ram over his shoulder. He was a strong man and always had been. Maerinn gathered up the woolen hide as well as any intestines that they could make use of and followed him to the houses.

"What's he doing here?" Bridget emerged from the doorway of her house as they reached the common yard. She carried a toddler on one hip and a basket of laundry on the the other.

"He's bringing you supper," Maerinn gave as explanation. She tried to keep the irritation out of her tone. If Aiden were near enough to hear he never liked to hear his wives argue and it didn't take much to set Bridget off.

"Mutton again?" Bridget asked, still sounding unhappy.

"Oh no, this is veal. I've brought a miniature deer," Brion said good naturedly. He had always had a good sense of humor and didn't let melancholy people dampen his spirits in the least.

Aiden came out into the yard just then and surveyed the scene. "Brion, I trust all is well with your father and brothers?"

"My father has taken a chill," Brion told him. "I'd like Maerinn to come back with me and care for him for a time."

Aiden didn't look pleased but he nodded his agreement all the same. "Duncan will tend the flocks," he said, indicating his eldest child and only son by Bridget.

The three mile journey to her old family home was taken on horseback. Maerinn brought very little with her by way of belongings. A few clothes, a dagger, a bow and quiver, were all she really needed. She was no expert warrior but was more of a hunter. The weapons were tools and nothing more. Brion carried a sword with him and had left his spear and shield at home.

They arrived at the small village that made up the homes of the family clan and Brion's children ran out to meet them. Maerinn jumped down from her horse and hugged each of them in turn. Amidst the children giggling and dogs barking in the yard she heard her Father's voice call out to her.

"So you haven't forgotten about your Da?"

"Never!" Maerinn broke away from the children and went to her father. He stood in the doorway of his house, his weight supported with the aid of a spear that he was using as a walking stick. "Brion said you were ill but...Da, you should be in bed!"

"I'm not that far gone yet. Come inside daughter and feast with us?"

So Maerinn joined her family for an evening of feasting. They had mutton and ale and bread and dried berries. More than that they had laughter and songs. The hour grew late. The children had fallen asleep as had Brion and his wife. Only Maerinn and her father remained awake. She had nearly nodded off where she sat at the table when the sounds of hoofbeats running towards them startled her awake. They were coming closer. A voice was shouting something but she could not make out the words. Worried, Maerinn got to her feet and cracked open the door. The sound of hoofbeats became louder. The voice became clearer.

"The vikings are coming! The vikings are here!"

Maerinn stood overlooking the carnage unable to move. In the valley below everything was burning. The houses were burning, the field was burning, the trees were burning. Her sheep were nowhere to be seen. Probably dead or stolen. She had remained hidden during the entire raid. Brion had insisted and she had been too terrified to argue but now looking at the scene before her she couldn't help but wonder if hiding had been the wrong choice.

"I found Aiden," Brion said, coming alongside her. "They didn't kill him. He was stabbed in the shoulder but he'll live."

Maerinn glanced over at her brother. He was bruised and bloody himself. "And Bridget?" she made herself ask.

"I don't know. I didn't see her. Aiden won't even speak to me. He's...he's...I fear this has broken him."

"Where is he?"

"At the east well. I think he waits for you there," Brion told her.

Maerinn nodded. "I will go to him. I will come and see you at dawn tomorrow brother."

She took the wooded paths to the familiar well where she had sometimes drawn water for her flocks. Aiden sat there on a rock. As she approached him from behind she could see that he was slumped over, despondent.

"Aiden?" she reached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at her touch and she removed her hand. "Aiden, are you hurt?"

"No. No I'm fine." he said, pain unspoken in his voice.

"And what of Bridget and the children?" she asked warily.

Aiden gave no reply.

"Aiden?" she prodded gently.

"Leave me," Aiden replied tensely but so quiet that she could barely hear.

His tone frightened her and she took a step to leave him as he had asked. She had barely turned away from him when she felt his hand grip her wrist tightly. He pulled her closer to keep her from leaving and for a moment Maerinn thought that he might hug her. Maybe Aiden had finally reached a point that he would seek her comfort. Aiden did no such thing. He drew his sword and held it to her throat.

"This is your fault," he said, more angry than she had ever seen him.

"No...no...it's not...what happened? What are you talking about?" she pled, knowing that he had lost all rationality,

"Duncan was defending your flocks. My only son! It should have been you!" he screamed, spittle getting on her face as he did so.

"I'm sorry…" she said, her jaw trembling. This could be the end. Aiden could very well kill her over this. "But the Vikings kill whoever they can. I am not to blame for their barbaric ways."

"You know what else the Vikings do?" he sneered. "They trade in slaves"

In that moment Maerinn knew what he meant to do with her. He wasn't going to kill her. He was going to do something far worse. Her flock, her only wealth was gone, and she was never going to give him a son to replace the one he'd lost. Aiden had no further use for her. "My father would never forgive you," she told him. "He and all four of my brothers would avenge me."

With the sword still at her throat Aiden knelt down a picked up a coil of rope from the ground. "There will be nothing to avenge," he cut the rope with his blade and tied a length of it around her wrists. "My children are gone. My wife is gone. And I have a bit of rope for both of us."

Maerinn was unsure what he meant until after she was tied up she watched him begin to make the rest of the rope into a noose. "You don't have to do this. Please?"

"We are going to Dublin. Once you are sold I will end it."

"You'll go to hell," she told him.

"I expect I will. Or are you trying to say you suddenly care for my soul?"

"No, I am saying, go to hell."