There were murmurs of protest, and Erik looked as though he would explode, for even as a child, he would sit before the skald listening so intently that their mother could call him and he would not hear her. Merrik laughed as he rose, and said quickly, “Nay, all of you be quiet. It is her way. She stops not because she has any supposed weakness of a woman, nay, she leaves you purposely dangling, hooked like bait on a fishing line. Don’t wriggle about. Yawn and tell her she did fairly well but you really don’t care what happens next. It will drive her mad with doubts and make her less arrogant in her skills.”
He laughed again and turned to Erik. “Well, brother, what do you think of my new skald, my female skald?”
Erik just looked at Laren. Suddenly, Merrik didn’t like the way he was gazing so intently at her. He didn’t want that kind of trouble. By all the gods, he didn’t want to have to quarrel with his brother, tell him to leave her alone, but he would have to if Erik decided he wanted to bed Laren. He didn’t know why he would have to, but he knew he would. He looked at Sarla, who was, in turn, staring at her husband. She knew, Merrik thought, she knew. Indeed, it was difficult for her not to know. Two of Erik’s bastards were here in the longhouse, both boys, although the youngest had not yet gained a year. But Kenna was strong and healthy and the very image of his father. And their mothers were there, too, and as far as Merrik knew, both Megot and Caylis still shared his brother’s bed.
But Sarla had no children as yet. She and Erik had been wed for two years now and as yet her belly hadn’t swelled with child. Merrik sighed. He didn’t like this. He walked to Cleve and held out his arms for Taby.
He gathered the child to him, then went to search out some blankets, Taby held securely in the crook of his arm. He saw Laren looking at him. It was the first night he had kept Taby with him. He walked to her and said, “I will see to Taby tonight.” He paused a moment, studying her upturned face. Her face was flushed from the heat and from her success. He smiled at her, and to his surprise, she smiled back. It was a lovely smile and he felt the warmth of it all the way to his belly. Yet he wanted to see her smile again and yet again. But not now, not at him. So he turned away, saying as he did so, “You will stay close to the longhouse. Remain by Sarla’s side. I will decide where we will go soon.”
In her hand were seven small silver pieces. She closed her fist over them, holding them close. They tingled against her flesh. Perhaps they were enough to buy her freedom and Taby’s and Cleve’s. She said, “I would speak to you, Merrik, perhaps on the morrow. It is important.” Then she was uncertain. She had eleven pieces of silver. Surely that was a lot of silver, but she had no idea what she or Cleve were worth in the slave market. “Perhaps I can speak to you not tomorrow, but later, perhaps in three or four days. Or perhaps I can question you about certain things, about the value of things.”
She’d said nothing about Taby, sleeping soundly, now cupped in one of his arms against his shoulder, and that surprised him. “Your meaning is as clear as a piece of bog ore. Nay, don’t try to confuse me or yourself more. Now, I would have a promise from you. Do you swear you will stay close to the longhouse and to Sarla?” She frowned at him, then nodded, not understanding. He knew she didn’t, but said nothing more.
Early the next morning when she went to relieve herself, she came out of the privy to see Erik standing there, his hands on his hips.
“I have been waiting for you,” he said, and he smiled at her.
“Why?” He frowned and she quickly added, “My lord.”
“That is better. I am the lord of Malverne and you are naught but a slave. It is good you don’t forget that. You are comely, Laren. You are still much too thin, but I shall take care not to grind myself against your bones.”
“Why would you wish to do that?” But she knew what he wanted now, she recognized the lust in his eyes, and his supreme confidence. He wanted her and he would have her, and she recognized the certainty in him. But she would feign ignorance until she could think of something, anything...
“Actually, Merrik tells me you are still very thin but you don’t look thin with your gown and tunic covering you. I will remove your clothes, look at you and study you and decide for myself.”
Still, she merely cocked her head to the side and looked at him like a questioning half-wit. “My lord, I will go assist your wife now. I make an excellent porridge.”
“You will assist no one but me, Laren.” He took a step toward her now and Laren quickly took a step back. He frowned. “What are you doing? I am lord here, and if I want to bed you I will bed you. You have no say in the matter. But still, I am a man of handsome parts and there is no reason why you wouldn’t want me to touch you and caress you.”
Ah, she thought, but the parts didn’t add up into a handsome whole. She said hesitantly, looking beyond his left shoulder, “I cannot, my lord. I am Merrik’s slave, his possession. I am his concubine. You must ask him if you wish to share me with him.”
That drew Erik up short. He frowned. “My brother said nothing about keeping you. You haven’t slept with him. By all the gods, he sleeps with your little brother, or alone. You lie, wench. He doesn’t want you. He even told me so. He said he took you only because you were the child’s sister.”
She felt a shaft of pain at his words, a pain so deep she thought she’d strangle with it, but she managed to say calmly enough, “It is my monthly flow. Merrik doesn’t like to touch me at those times.”
“I am surprised my brother would let such a simple thing deter him. As for me, I don’t care.” Erik took another step toward her.
She shook her head even as she eased to her left, toward the longhouse. To her unspeakable relief, one of Erik’s men, Sturla by name, a huge man with arms larger than her legs, bulging with muscle, came striding from the longhouse. He said, “The men are ready, Erik. The boar was seen just late yesterday and I know we can find it. I have promised Sarla she will have it to make us boar steaks this very night.”
She wanted to kiss the huge man, who could, if he wished, kill her with one blow from his immense hand.
Erik looked at her, saw the relief in her eyes, and cursed quietly. It was obvious he’d forgotten about the boar hunt. He said nothing, merely turned to Sturla. “Let us be off, then.” He said over his shoulder to her, “I will see to you this night. You will not gainsay me.”
Laren said not a word. She waited, unmoving, until Erik disappeared through the palisade gates with six of his men.
A woman said from behind her, “I heard Merrik warn you, yet you came out here alone. Do you not heed your master’s warnings?”
Laren said nothing, just continued staring after Erik and Sturla until all the men were gone from view.
The woman continued, “Erik will have you, despite your wishes, despite his brother’s wishes.”
Laren turned slowly to face a young woman with brilliant blue eyes and blond hair that looked filled with the morning sunlight. She was taller than most women, deep bosomed and well garbed. Laren said, “I had to relieve myself. That is not a thing done with others. Who are you?”
“I am Caylis. Erik has kept me for nine years now. His father bought me when I was only thirteen years old to assist his wife and to be a companion to their niece Sira. Erik wanted me and took me. My son is eight years old now. He is Kenna, a good boy, strong and proud. If Sarla has no children, then Erik will doubtless make him legitimate. I pray it will happen. I have borne him three other children, all girls, but they died.”
“But Erik is wedded to Sarla.”
“Aye, the poor little weak fool. Over two years now. ’Twas a marriage arranged by Erik’s father, Harald. She hasn’t the guile to hold him, to make him do what she wants him to do. She is timorous as a newly foaled calf.” She paused, looking Laren up and down. “Erik was careful whilst his parents still lived. He only visited my bed and the other women’s after his parents had departed to their sleeping chamber for the night. He knew they were fond of Sarla, so he did nothing untoward toward us whilst they were about. But now he has no reason to deny himself anything. He can do whatever he pleases, and for whatever reason, he wants you. I suppose it is because you are new, and like all men, Erik will seek to bend you to his will until he has bedded you and discovers that you are but like the rest of us, only not as pretty or as well made.”
