Chapter Three
I awoke to someone running their hands over me and my eyes opened. Jerking into a sitting position, I saw that Asvald was lying beside me, wearing not a single stitch of clothing. I gasped and looked away, much to his pleasure.
"We did nothing last night, if that is what you are wondering about," Asvald said and stroked my arm. I groaned and flopped back on the pillows. I wished he had taken me in my sleep. At least then I would have no memory of it, and I would feel nothing.
"I need to relieve myself, Asvald." I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed.
"I'll take you," he said and took my hand. "Come."
He led me outside to a small hut that was similar to an outhouse. I finished my business then stepped out, seeing that Asvald still had his back turned. I glanced around and my sight fell on some red berries and I tiptoed over to the bush and picked some, crushing the berries in my hand. I hurried behind the little outhouse and lifted my skirts, smearing the red juice along the inside of my thighs.
I came around the outhouse and strode slowly toward Asvald.
"Are you well?" he asked and touched my cheek. I turned my face from him and wouldn't answer. As if he really cared how I was feeling. Damn him to hell.
He sighed and grabbed my arm, forcing me toward the longhouse. His hands were large enough to wrap around my entire upper arm.
I huffed and blew away some hair that had fallen into my face. The pressure of his fingers quickly turned into pain. "You do not have to be so rough," I growled and glared at him, tripping over a rock in the process.
He just smacked me on the rump and laughed. I growled and clawed at his back, but his thick wool shirt and furs prevented me from doing any damage. He said something to me in Norse, making me even angrier.
Inside the sod house, Asvald's mother and sisters were cooking and working on a loom.
"Asvald, let me assist your mother," I said as he carried me toward his area of the longhouse.
"No, you are to serve me," he said and shut the door behind us, the boom echoing through the room. I went to a corner and sunk down, pulling my knees up to my chest and crossing my arms over them, glaring up at him.
"I despise you," I growled as he approached me with an amused smile. That damned smile. How could a devil wear the beauty of an angel?
"I don't believe that," he whispered, crouching in front of me. His eyes...soft, almost pleading. He was close enough that I could feel the tickling sensation of his breath on my cheek. My heart did a strange jig against my breastbone.
"You'd better believe it," I said breathlessly, trying not to smile because his nose was swollen and red, dried blood caked over a slit up his nostril. I laughed inside, feeling victorious.
He grabbed my chin and made me look at him. "I'm losing my patience with you, maiden." The gentleness had left his eyes and I found myself unable to meet them.
"Oh dear, what a shame," I said and smacking his hand away, pressing my lips tightly together in my anger. He grabbed my upper arms and tried to bring me to my feet, but I flopped over and relaxed every inch of my body as he groaned and tried to get me to stand. With a roar of fury, he let me fall to the ground where I lay smiling.
He stood over me, his arms crossed over his chest. "My, you are quite a fighter, my lovely."
Livid tears filled my eyes. "You stole me from my home! You have taken all I love away from me and have forced me to be your slave! I will fight you, and I'll never stop." I shook my head. "I'll never stop."
Asvald knelt beside me, though he made no move to touch me. "You are not my slave. You are my wife."
I rubbed my eyes and rolled to my other side, turning my back on him. "It matters not. It is all the same to me." I felt his hand go to my leg, brushing his fingers over the wounds on my ankles. I winced and moved away from his touch. Taking my hand, he lifted it to his lips and kissed my palm, and the wounds on my wrists. I jerked it from his grip and tucked them under my arms.
"I am trying to be kind but that does not seem to be a succeeding method of taming you. Maybe something harsher will subdue you." He lifted me to my feet and took my sore wrist, dragging me through the longhouse and outside into the sunlight and crisp air. He pulled me over to a nearby pine tree and tore off a small branch. He grabbed a fistful of my skirt and lifted it up, so my knees and below were exposed. Taking the switch, he slashed it against the back of my legs. The stinging spread up my thighs and I bit back a whimper. A rage like I had never known before boiling up and overflowed inside me and I turned on him, reaching for the little tree branch. He grunted and lifted it over my head.
I beat my fist against his chest and snarled like a cornered dog. Unfortunately, the strikes hurt my hands more than it appeared to hurt him.
Asvald quickly overpowered me and shoved me face first against a tree, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand, using the other to rip my dress enough so the backs of my calves and a little of my thighs too.
He struck again, only harder. Tears rose in my eyes and my nails bit into the rough bark of the tree. I had never felt so belittled in my entire life. I felt a trickle of blood run down my skin. Another strike landed and drew a growl from me. My skin burned and my legs shook. Looking around, I saw other Norsemen watching us, some laughing, others were serious. Shame coursed through me and I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. A few strikes later, someone shouted, "Asvald!" It was Groa, his mother.
Asvald ceased his lashing and looked up at her. She stormed over to him, scolding him in Norse. Grabbing the switch, she struck him across the chest with it before throwing it to the ground. Asvald's face flushed red and he spoke sharply to her in Norse. She pointed her finger at him and scolded louder.
I bit back my laughter, but couldn't help but smile. Sweet Groa was defending me against her own son.
She turned to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, leading me away from Asvald and the crowd that had gathered.
"I am sorry, daughter. He does not act like that often. I have never seen him strike a woman before," she murmured and rubbed my shoulder. I leaned into her, needing her comfort.
"I want to go home," I whispered, looking into her eyes. "Your husband is the chieftain. Can't you ask him to take me back home? Surely there is a more beautiful girl out there that would please Asvald."
She shook her head. "Would you wish this fate on another girl? The break has already been made. Now you must allow it to heal."
My head hung low in self-pity and I felt like giving up hope on ever feeling happiness again. "Can you imagine being stolen away from your entire family and forced to be married to a man you feared, a man who killed the menfolk of your town?"
Groa looked away, and silence feel between us and the only sounds were of twigs snapping under out feet. Finally she spoke. "I can. When I was sixteen Norsemen invaded my hometown and killed my father and brothers. I watched my sisters get ravished, powerless to help them. I was taken captive, and I, much like you, became wife of a chieftain's son." She paused and I saw that she was fighting back emotions that she had been struggling with for many years. She continued, "I never saw my mother again, and my sisters were sold off into slavery and I did not see them again. At first I hated my husband. I fought him and fought him. It was only when I became with child that I learned to love him." She looked at me and smiled. "You will learn to love my son, even if it takes a child to do so."
I folded my arms over my chest and thrust my chin up. "There will never be a child if I have my way."
Gora chuckled and rubbed my back. "Asvald told me why he was switching you."
My face heated and I looked away, hiding an embarrassed smile. "I mean no harm; I am simply protecting my virtue."
"Why?" She asked as we came into the clearing with the river.
"I don't want to be ravished by Asvald." Good God, woman! I threw my hands up in the air. "You of all people must understand this," I said as I stepped into the cold water. It soothed the inflamed skin on the back of my legs and I took a deep breath from the blessed relief.
She nodded. "I do, I do." She said nothing more, just stood in silence while I finished soaking my sores.
When I finished, she said, "I will take you back to Asvald now. I'm sure his temper has cooled."
My heart was heavy as we walked back to the village, and my legs started to sting once again. Strings of curses ran through my mind, wishing I could scream them at Asvald. I asked Groa how to say something in Norse and she taught me, so I could say it to Asvald.
He was sitting outside the longhouse, looking quite ashamed of himself. Groa stopped walking and folded her arms over her chest and I continued to approach Asvald. He looked up at me and smiled sheepishly. I stopped in front of him and placed my hands on my hips.
"Ikke piske meg igjen, du store bjørn," I said, the words strange on my lips. I'd said, Do not ever whip me again, you big bear.
He stood up and cupped my face in his hands, saying something back in Norse before saying it in my language. "I will never do that again. I'm sorry, my beautiful wife."
I turned and showed him the red welts and scratches on my legs. "You should be. Only a brute would treat his woman this way."
"Listen to me, woman," he said sternly and grabbed my chin. "It's time you learned how to show respect."
I scowled at him and pulled my chin away. "Are you going to beat me again? That did nothing to tame me. It only made me despise you even more."
His eyes filled with sadness. "I regret harming you. You have every right to hate me now." His stupid, sorry face made me want to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze.
I looked away and pressed my lips together, too angry to even speak. As if I didn't have a right to hate him before.
I was sure that he didn't regret anything; he was only trying to talk me into his bed. "Rot in hell, Asvald."
"Tame your tongue, wife!" he yelled, his face flushing with anger. He looked over my shoulder and said something to his mother. She came to my side and took my hand. He said something more before stomping away.
"What did he say, Groa?" I asked softly, worried that Asvald changed his mind about me and wanted me sold into slavery.
"He said that he wants me to watch over you. He is tired of your company," she said, sounding disappointed. Her soft round face was strained with tension, a look that did not fit her at all. I almost believed that Groa was my own personal angel sent by God to guard me in this strange land.
I smiled at the thought. "Thank God, I'm free of him."
"For now. Come, let me put some ointment on your legs." She led me into the longhouse and sat me down by the fire.
"What should I do, Groa?" I asked, resting my chin in my hand. "I'm lost and alone. I just want to go home. Couldn't you help me escape?"
She shook her head as she smoothed what looked like grease over the switched marks on my calves. "Stop this talk of escaping. It will do you no good. You must accept your life here. I promise the loneliness and pain will fade away with time."
Those were not words I wanted to hear. "I doubt that."
"I am sorry you are so unhappy. Once Asvald sees that you are only trying to protect yourself, he might be kinder to you," she said and handed me a plate of dried fish and cheese, along with a cup of ale. I quickly began eating, realizing how famished I was.
"Do you think you could talk to him? Help him understand?" I asked, looking at her with pleading eyes.
She smiled and touched my cheek. "Of course. He listens well to his mooir."
I nodded. "Thank you."
While I ate, other women and men came and went from the longhouse, and I learned more about Asvald's family. He was eldest of his siblings.
Ulf reminded me of my nephew, Jarlath with his blond hair, blue eyes, and crooked smile. He quickly warmed up to me and was soon bestowing me with kisses. I held him in my arms, close to my heart, hoping that Jarlath could feel my love all the way across the ocean between us.
Asvald stayed away for most of the afternoon, leaving me in peace with his mother and siblings.
But when the sky started to darken, Asvald and his father returned, looking hungry and tired. I went to the fire and served some stew into a bowl and brought it to Asvald, along with a piece of thick bread.
"Thank you, wife," he murmured and began eating. I helped Groa serve food for the children before sitting beside Asvald to eat my own.
After the meal was finished, I watched as Groa filled two large pitchers with steaming water and placed a bowl in her husband's lap. He leaned over it, a soft smile on his face.
Groa stood behind Bork, her hand making its way up his strong back. She gently lifted his hair so it hung down in his face. Slowly she poured the warm water of his head, using her other hand to stroke his hair and gently work out the knots. Halla passed her a bar of soap and Groa put down the pitcher and lathered his hair, massaging his scalp until he moaned with pleasure.
I swallowed hard at the intimate display of a wife tending her husband. I wanted to ask her if it was a normal and regular after dinner activity, but I felt it would be rude to break the spell that hovered in the air around them.
She rinsed his hair and let it fall around his shoulders again, gently combing it till it lay neatly.
Finally she looked up at me and gestured to the other pitcher of water. "Better get to it before the water is cold."
I blanched and glared at Asvald, who stared at me expectantly. "No, I am not doing that."
He lifted an eyebrow but didn't speak. Halla and Inga stared at me like I had gone mad. Even the younger children had stopped playing and stood with round mouths like fish out of water.
Groa came to my side and touched my elbow, gently drawing me toward the pitcher of water. "Eachna, it is one of our customs. You must learn it."
I hated to say no to the angel-faced woman in front of me, with her loving smile and rosy cheeks. But I resisted the urge to obey and chose rebellion instead. "No."
Asvald rose and grabbed my hand, dragging me toward his section of the house. I groaned and tugged against him, looking over my shoulder at Groa. She smiled and nodded.
As the door closed behind us, I occurred to me how much I'd grown to hate this room in only a night. "I have to relieve myself," I said, hoping to buy myself some more time. He groaned but took me outside. Again I gathered some red berries and smeared the juice between my thighs.
"Please be stupid enough to fall for this," I whispered as I straightened my dress and joined Asvald again.
My body trembled as we were again alone in his bedroom. My heart pounded, making my head ache, and I shifted on my feet because I was unable to stay still.
"We've been married for a night and whole day and I still have not seen you unclothed," he said quietly. My stomach clenched and I felt like I would be sick, which was a feeling that I was becoming accustomed to.
"Asvald, please," I whined, wishing there was a place in the room that would make me feel less vulnerable. The only thing that would help would be to stand by the door, but Asvald was blocking it.
"Please what?" He asked, coming closer to me. His dropped his fur coat and stripped of his shirt, leaving his well-muscled chest in my view.
"Stop this nonsense! I won't give into you!" I yelled, standing my ground. I was sick of cowering before him. "You deserve nothing from me after the beating I received from you."
"Oh shut your mouth, I hardly touched you. I've switched children harder than that," he said sarcastically and reached out for me. I hopped sideways and crawled over the bed and to the other side.
He cursed in Norse and darted around to my side of the bed. I scrambled across again, panting. He slammed his hand down on the bed, and before he could move again, I dropped to the ground and wiggled under the bed. He knelt down and reached for me from the right, so I scooted to the left, out of his grasp. I watched his feet come around to the left side, so I moved to the right side.
"Damn it!" He raged and flattened himself out on the floor and reached under again, grabbing my ankles. I screamed as he pulled me toward him. And pinned my legs under his and trapped my wrists in his hands.
He panted as he started down at my panicked face. "Caught you. You gave a good effort though." He smirked and pressed down harder on me.
I arched my back and squirmed, but my wiggles did nothing to help me. He squeezed my wrists till I cried out in pain. This fight was getting old.
Asvald sighed and released my wrists and kneeled, so my legs were free as well. I sat up and wiped at my eyes, trying to get control of my breathing. .
"Eachna," Asvald murmured and took my face between his hands. In a tender gesture that seemed odd for this strong and broad young man, he kissed my forehead and allowed his lips to linger there until my breathing slowed.
The pain in my chest didn't stop as I longed for my family and for my freedom. Suddenly I remembered the berry juice on my thighs. Lifting up my dress, I showed him the red streaks on my thighs.
"I am having my monthly flow," I said and dropped my dress again.
"Hmm. Well, if that is true, let us go to bed and sleep," he said and stood, his hands going to the tie on his trousers. I turned my back and dropped my dress, quickly pulling on a nightgown before slipping under the furs on the bed.
He joined me a moment later, naked as he was on the day he was born. I shut my eyes and tried to fall asleep when suddenly he ripped back the furs and straddled me.
"Asvald!" I cried in surprise and pressed against his chest. "What in the name of heaven are you doing?"
He grinned and spread my legs, kneeling between them. "If you are bleeding, why aren't you wearing women's rags? And why-" He leaned down, bringing his face close to my womanhood- "do you smell like fruit?" He chuckled and my heart sunk with dread.
My heartbeat picked up speed as he lifted my nightgown, revealing my secrets to him. Blushing a deep red, I covered my face with my hands to hide my shame. He reached up and stroked my arm comfortingly.
"Easy, my wife. Feel no shame, I am your husband. You please me despite your insolent attitude," he murmured, licking up some of the juice from the inside of my thigh. Pleasure shot up my leg and my mouth fell open.
"Stop! Husband, I beg you to stop," I said seriously, looking him in the eye. Maintaining eye-contact, he licked my other thigh, his tongue much too close to my privy parts. As his tongue became bolder, I closed my eyes for I felt like I would faint. Biting my lip, I held in any sound that might encourage him and went limp, taking my mind away from what Asvald was doing to me. I imagined riding my horse through the thick green grass of Ireland, my hair flowing free behind me. I missed that sense of freedom, and I wondered if I'd ever be allowed to ride a horse.
Before he could finish, I swung my leg over his head and sprinted toward the door. I got it open and this time I didn't run outside, but ran to his mother. I collapsed next to her sleeping platform by the fire. I shook her shoulder and she groaned, her eyes opening.
"What is it, Eachna?" She asked softly, seeing the frightened look on my face.
"Help me, please. He's treating me horribly, doing unseemly things to me. Help," I cried, clutching at her hand.
"Stop lying to my mother," Asvald said and slid his arms around my waist and lifted me onto his shoulder. Thank God he'd put his trousers back on. Groa spoke to him gently in Norse and he growled back at her something I couldn't understand. After a few minutes of them discussing something, Asvald carried me back to our room. He set me down on the bed and allowed me to cover myself with furs and lie down.
"Are you sore from your journey here?" he asked, reaching under the furs to take my foot in his hand. "Can I help?"
I tucked my knees up to my chest, bringing my feet out of his grasp. "Just let me sleep, please."
He sighed and joined me in the bed, pulling me against his chest. "Let me hold you."
I rested my head on his chest and tried to relax. I was tired out from fighting him all day and I just wanted some rest. "I am angry with you still. Do not forget that."
His hand trailed along my back in a soothing manner, as if to calm my temper. "Hush now. It is time to sleep."
My eyes closed and I soaked up his warmth, quickly falling asleep.
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The next morning Asvald was gone, so I washed my face and dressed before joining Groa and the children. Ulf and Thord ran to greet me with kisses and embraces. Groa kissed my cheek.
"Are you well, daughter?"
I nodded and forced a smile. "Asvald let me sleep last night." I was thankful for how rested I felt. "Did he tell you what happened last night?"
She shook her head and made me sit by the fire. "No, he only told me that you were resisting him." She served me some porridge with berries. "I told him to let you sleep. I'm glad he obeyed me."
"Thank you for your help last night. I was…scared," I whispered before taking a bite of my porridge. "Where is Asvald now?"
"He is with his father," she said and served breakfast for her children and herself.
After we finished eating, I asked Groa, "May I go for a walk?"
She met my eyes and held my gaze. "Only if you promise you will not run off. Remember, I helped you before and I'm helping you now."
"I promise," I said, looking in her eyes. When I stepped outside, the cool breeze stirred the hair around my face and I took a deep breath before walking down the dirt path that ran through the village. Children chased each other through the streets, shaggy dogs barking at their heels, women rushed around doing their daily chores. Some smiled at me, some nodded, and it occurred to me that I was respected. As the Chieftain's son's wife, I was honored and respected. For some odd reason, this made me happy and maybe even proud of my husband.
The sound of waves and salty air greeted me as I came to a slope overlooking the beach. Long ships were anchored in the bay, and the sight of them brought a fresh surge of fear to my heart. Taking another deep breath, I carefully climbed down the slope. The sand felt cold through my shoes, but I liked the feeling.
Asvald was standing next to another Norsemen and seemed to be arguing with him. I stayed back, not wanting to intrude on their business. After a few minutes, Asvald turned and stormed down the beach. I stumbled after him and soon reached his side.
"Good morning, husband," I said softly and placed my hand on his arm. "Are you well?"
He nodded, but the expression on his face told me otherwise. "I am fine."
We walked in silence for a while and I removed my hand from his arm, putting some space between us. "My sister and I used to love walking along the beach. She'd try to step out into the waves, but they would almost always knock her down. I'd follow her out, and would be there to catch her if she fell." Tears gathered in my eyes as I remembered her. I wondered if she was well, if she was happy. I knew for sure that she missed me, wherever she was.
Asvald looked at me as if examining my face and eyes. "How old is your sister?"
I looked out over the frothy blue water, wishing I could walk across it back to Ireland, my home. "She is eight and ten years old. Her name is Kalin."
"You miss her," he stated and took my hand, giving it a squeeze.
"Of course I do," I snapped and yanked my hand out of his. "She was my best friend, the one closest to my heart."
His head lowered and I knew he felt bad for forcing me from my home. He opened his mouth to say something, but then changed his mind. His blond hair whipped around in the wind, twirling around his face. Though I hated to admit it, he was quite attractive. He had a strong jawline that was covered in dark blond stubble, and had luscious lips.
"I am hoping that with some time you'll learn to love me and my family, and our village," he said softly, looking down at me.
"You took me from my home and I will hold that against you until the end of my days," I said just as softly, nearly whispering the words. My throat thickened with tears as I imagined my family, welcoming me back home.
His face hardened and he became distant again. "Well, you're here now. You might as well accept it."
I turned in front of him, making him come to a halt. "Never will I accept this. This is wrong, all of it! We're not even married! We weren't wed before God, so I don't consider you my husband. A feast before your pagan gods is not a wedding."
He arched an eyebrow and smirked at me, then suddenly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up against him. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to mine. They were salty and warm, hard and aggressive on mine as he claimed my mouth. When his tongue brushed mine, I started to struggle with him, leaning away from his body. With one arm around my waist, the other cupped the back on my head, keeping me in place. I groaned and wiggled harder, trying to free myself. He abruptly released me and I fell back onto the sand, the breath knocked out of me. He grinned down at me and brushed his hand over his lips.
"You son of a bitch!" I growled and got to my feet, brushing the sand from my backside while glaring at the blond demon before me.
Asvald shook his head, looking sad and angry at the same time. "You could make things so much easier for yourself if you would stop fighting all of us."
Turning my back, I started up the slope to the village. "I'm not fighting with your mother," I called over my shoulder and he started following me.
"Even so, you're disturbing the peace with your crazy antics," he called back to me.
I spun around and marched back toward him. "That's your fault! You should have picked a Norse wife who would be willing to live with you! What in high heaven did you expect of me?" I cried, my hands going to my hips. "You are a fool if you thought I'd be willing to obey anything you tell me to do."
"You are the fool. You are a fool for trying to go against my wishes," he growled and grabbed my chin. "Have you forgotten that I am the chieftain's son?"
"Oh, I haven't forgotten. You are so spoiled that you couldn't be anything but," I snarled and pushed him away. As I turned to walk away again, he grabbed my wrist and spun me back around.
"I suggest that you learn how to speak to me respectfully," he said sternly, glaring at me.
I pressed my lips together and glared back. "Or what, Norseman? You'll take a switch to me again?"
"I will if I have to. You're like a disobedient child that needs to be put in her place." He continued in Norse and then laughed. My face flushed because I didn't know what he'd said about me. A burly man with red hair came to Asvald's side and spoke to him. Asvald laughed before reaching out to swat me on the bottom, and said something to his red haired friend in Norse. They both roared with laughter. My face heated even more and before I could lose my nerve, I slapped Asvald as hard as I could across the cheek. The smack resounded through the air and silence fell, everyone holding their breath to see what Asvald would do. His face also flushed red with anger and he grabbed my arm, dragging me toward his longhouse.
"You'll be sorry, you little bitch," he growled at me. I tried to dig my heels in the ground but he was still too strong. My arm throbbed where he was gripping me. I clawed at his fingers and shouted,
"Unhand me, beast! Groa! Help!"
He yanked me forward and pulled me into the longhouse. Groa was at the loom and she looked up in surprise. I parted my lips to plead with her to help me when Asvald's hand came over my mouth. Groa gave him a disapproving look and said something in Norse. He shouted at her before throwing me into his bedroom, and slammed the door shut.
I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted on my feet, preparing myself for his fury. His chest heaved as he took off his belt made of animal skin. My heart skipped a beat and my eyes widened. He wouldn't beat me with that, would he?
"Asvald, please-" I started to say but he cut me off.
"Silence! I've heard enough!" He shoved me down on the bed and lifted my dress, exposing the back of my legs. As he raised the belt to strike me, I rolled to the side and off the bed, hitting the floor with a thump. I stumbled to my feet, my eyes darting to the door. If only I could reach it in time.
Asvald stepped in front of me and I gave him a weak smile. He shook his head and threw the belt across the room. Before I could sigh in relief, he raised his hand and struck me across the mouth. I gasped and covered the stinging area with my hand, looking up at him. My eyes stung and my breathing became ragged. I had never been struck in the face before and I learned quickly that I never wanted it to happen again.
"You hit me; I hit you, so now we are even. Never strike me again," he said and I could tell his temper was fading.
Nodding, I stepped around him and went toward the door. "I want to help your mother with the chores." Anything to get out of that room.
"Go," was all he said before dropping into his chair in front of the fire, covering his eyes with his hand.
I shut the door softly behind me and strode over to Groa's side. She looked up at me with concern. "He struck you."
I nodded, feeling the bruise starting to form in the shape of his hand. A few tears rolled down my cheeks.
She shook her head and ran a hand over my hair in a comforting way. "I told him to keep his hands off you unless the touches are ones of love."
I smiled at her kindness and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, mother. I think he did not intend to harm me; his temper just gets the better of him."
"Aye, he has quite a temper," she agreed and motions for me to sit beside her. I did, and began to help her weave.
"He expects me not to fear him, only respect him, but now he's taken a switch to me, threatened me with a belt, and struck me with his hand. He's a fool," I grumbled as we worked.
She looked at me with sympathetic eyes. "Trust me, he is no fool. Though he is acting like one currently."
We sat in quiet for quite some time before Asvald came out of his bedroom and hurried out of the longhouse. I jumped up and followed him.
"Where you going?" I asked, hands on my hips.
"That's none of your concern, woman," he said, not even bothering to look at me.
"When do you plan on going back to Ireland?" I asked, hoping he would tell me so I could stow away on the ship somehow.
He laughed. "No, I shan't be telling you that." He reached out and ruffled my hair. I ducked away from his hand. "Return to the longhouse, wife."
"My name is Eachna; you may call me by it. And no, I don't wish to return to the longhouse," I said though it might earn me another switching.
He didn't respond, he just kept walking faster than me. Since I didn't want to follow him around like a puppy all day, I turned the other direction and started heading toward the clearing with the river.
Once I reached the river, I removed my shoes and sat on a rock, letting my feet soak in the crisp water. I pondered my situation, and what my plan was for escaping. My only way back to Ireland was by sea, and I didn't know how I could possibly sneak onto a long ship. There was no hope; no chance of me getting away from here. Dropping my head into my hands, I allowed my tears to flow, my spirit broken. All I saw ahead of me was bitter misery and I wanted none of it. A life of serving Asvald and warming his bed was not enough to keep me happy. I imagined my sister getting married without me by her side, my niece and nephew growing up without having any memories me.
I cried until no more tears would come, and leaned down to drink from the river. Once my thirst was quenched, I looked up into the sky and guessed by the sun's travel across the sky that an hour had gone by. Though I knew I should return to the longhouse, I didn't want to become trapped in Asvald's dark bedroom again, trying to run from him and his passion. So I stayed, enjoying the peace and quiet. A doe came to the river with her fawn and I stayed perfectly still as they drank, their sweet gracefulness enchanting me.
A twig snapped behind me and the deer bolted. I whirled around to see how was behind me, only to see Asvald. With a sigh, he sat down beside me on the rock and rested his hand on my knee.
"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" He asked softly and I turned my face away from him. His gentleness was short-lived and it would only be a matter of time before he became angry again.
"I am sorry, Eachna," he whispered and I felt his eyes on me. With a gentle touch, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"You've said that many times to me now. I wish that you would treat me better." I paused before finally looking him in the eye. "Can you blame me? For fighting you? If you were taken captive to a new land, away from your family and given to marriage to a stranger, wouldn't you be angry?"
"I'd never be taken captive," he said, like he'd never considered what it would be like to be in my place.
"But if you were, wouldn't you act just as I am?" I asked again while lifting his hand off my knee.
He folded his hands in his lap and his brow wrinkled as he contemplated my question. "I'd be furious along with being sad. I'd mourn the loss of my family and I'd fight against my captors with all my strength."
I smiled, grateful that he finally understood how I felt. "Thank you," I whispered. "Now you see why I must return home."
He growled and his hands folded into fists. His temper was immerging once again and I braced myself for some kind of pain. "I cannot allow that. Even if that means tying you to my bed. You are my wife now." He reached out and touched my cheek. "I could make you happy if you would simply allow it."
I shook my head and brushed his hand away. "No, you can't. You can't." Before he would know what was happening, I leaped from the boulder and plunged into the river, trying to swim across. He reacted quickly and dove in after me. Since he was a better swimmer, he caught up to me and wrapped an arm around my waist. I slashed him along the cheek with my fingernails and he released me. I charged out of the water and onto the riverbank, gulping for air. I saw him rise in the water, coming after me. I ran forward through the woods, forgetting the pain in my side and my aching lungs. I was so close to freedom. I'd find some other seaport and I'd stowaway back to Ireland. It was simple, really. Coming to a thick tree with big roots, I dove behind it and nestled myself between the huge roots. Trying to calm my breathing, I closed my eyes and tried my best to be silent. I heard Asvald's footsteps as he chased after me. I ripped up some ferns and sprinkled them over me, attempting to blend in. I held my breath as Asvald ran past my tree. After a few more feet, he came to a stop and looked around, breathing hard. My own lugs burned for air but I refused to breathe in. He turned in a full circle before his eyes landed on me. I gasped and jumped to my feet, breaking into a run again. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, the muscles in my legs searing with pain.
Can't stop, can't stop, can't stop, I chanted to myself in my mind, willing myself to run faster. I jumped over a thick root and dodged a sharp-looking plant while still trying to keep up my pace. It was then that Asvald's body hit mine and we both came crashing to the forest floor. I lay panting, too tired to do anything more. Asvald held me down, gasping for air as he stared down at me. Blood streamed from the scratch on his cheek and water dripped from his hair.
"Thor's thunder, woman. Will you ever give up?" He asked breathlessly, still holding me down.
"Get off me, you ugly mutt! Off!" I screamed, struggling against his hold.
"Calm yourself, maiden," he scolded gently before getting to his feet. "Honestly, I'm too weak now to carry you so do you agree to come willingly?"
I nodded and started walking slowly toward the river again. Why didn't I ever try running when I was alone?
{}
That night I was still fatigued from my escape attempt and didn't have the energy to play games with Asvald. I changed into my nightgown and slid under the furs, my eyelids heavy. Asvald stripped down and joined me. I rolled so my back was to him and was happily surprised when he made no move to touch me. Instead he sighed and rolled the opposite way, snoring a short time later. I welcomed the peace.