“Get up. It is time to return to my vessel. You have sorely tried me, Zarabeth, and wasted my time. As for Ragnar, I do believe his humiliation at a woman besting him could lead him to seek your death.”
“I don’t care.”
“Ah, you would, if I chose to give you to Ragnar for punishment.” He took pity on her then, for he had won and she was bowed, a pathetic scrap at his feet, defeated and crushed. He would not harm the child, so he ended it. “Come, the child goes with us.”
Zarabeth looked up at him, uncertain, disbelieving. “Do you swear it?”
Irritated, Magnus said sharply, “I do not lie, not like you. I will not tell you again.”
He made no move toward her. Zarabeth got to her feet. She held out her arms to Lotti, but Magnus forestalled her. “You are tired and will hold me back. Tell the child she need not fear me, and I will carry her.”
Zarabeth leaned down and gently stroked Lotti’s soft hair from her brow, saying softly, “Listen, sweeting, you needn’t be afraid of Magnus. He is large, ’tis true, but he won’t hurt you. Nay, don’t pull away from me. I swear it to you. Let him carry you now, all right?”
Magnus said, impatient, “Can’t the child understand you? Must you speak to her as if she spoke another language?”
Zarabeth ignored him. Finally Lotti nodded, and Zarabeth turned to Magnus. “She will let you carry her. Please, Magnus, she has done nothing to harm you. Do not hurt her.”
“I am not a monster. I do not hurt children.”
“Don’t lie! I know what you Vikings do to anyone—even children—on your raids! You spit them on your swords, you fling them—”
“You will be silent now. I will not hurt her. Unlike you, Zarabeth, I do not lie.”
She sighed, getting hold of herself. She believed him. At least Lotti would be with her. She had won, in a sense, if by any stretch being a slave could be called winning.
“If you had escaped York, where would you have gone?” He sounded pleasant as he walked beside her, Lotti’s head against his right shoulder, only mildly interested.
“I don’t know. I thought perhaps to Wessex, to King Alfred’s court. I could have served some rich lady there, sewing perhaps.”
He snorted. “Your stupidity yet amazes me. You would not have survived a mile from York. There are outlaws, Zarabeth, and you are but a lone woman. Had you escaped, you would now likely be dead, raped until you bled your life away. But now you are safe again because you have a strong man to protect you. You will sew for me now, and do whatever tasks are assigned to you. You will learn quickly to obey. It will be good, for I grow tired of your ceaseless demands and complaints.”
She said nothing, merely looked straight ahead. They passed people who knew her, and she was aware that they were talking of her, but she paid them no heed. She saw familiar buildings, familiar patches of gardens. “I will miss York.”
“Aye,” Magnus said, his voice laced with sarcasm, “doubtless it is a town of noble inhabitants. Like its people, its beauty is also astounding. You can smell them as well as see them.” He waved toward a pile of refuse, whose odor was foul. “Listen, woman, these people would show you not a shred of kindness were it not for me protecting you.”
She sighed. “You are right, I doubt not, but I don’t really understand why no one believed me.”
“I do not wish to hear your protestations of innocence again. There is my vessel, hurry, for we sail as soon as our feet are on board. I have no further wish to remain here.”
The first man Zarabeth saw when they boarded theSea Windwas Ragnar. His arm was raised to strike her. She tried to show no fear, but she was raw with it. She saw Magnus merely shake his head at the man. Ragnar slowly lowered his arm, but his look didn’t change. She said nothing, merely followed Magnus to the covered cargo hold. He drew back the otter skins and set Lotti on one of the roughly woven mats that covered the wooden floor. “Stay here.”
Zarabeth sank down, drawing Lotti onto her lap. She was beyond tired, numb now, for she had failed yet won, for Lotti was safe, at least she was as safe as Zarabeth was. Would the child be treated as a slave when they reached Norway and Magnus’ home? How were slaves in that foreign land treated? Were they beaten and given little food? Were they as pitiful as the creatures in the slave compound?
Fear curled powerfully through her belly.
She wished she could have bathed; her own stench was beginning to bother her. As for Lotti, the child was scratching her elbow and Zarabeth saw a sore there that badly needed cleansing. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, pulling out twigs and clots of dirt and mud. She could only imagine how she looked. Well, it didn’t matter. Magnus didn’t care for anything save humiliating her. She wondered if he was cruel. She wondered if he would hurt her. She fell asleep and didn’t stir the rest of the night.
At dawn the next day, the men of theSea Windcast off its ropes and left its moorings. She heard the sailors calling out to each other, heard Magnus tell the men to draw their oars. The huge square sail wouldn’t be raised until they were free of York harbor.
The motion was smooth and rocking and brought Zarabeth to full awareness. She wished it was still night. She wanted only the darkness. It represented a sort of safety to her, a sort of protection.
When the mighty square sail caught the wind outside the harbor, the vessel shot forward and the men cheered. She knew now they would pull the oars into the vessel and go about their other tasks. Her stomach growled. She turned to Lotti, took her small face between her hands, and said slowly, “Are you hungry, sweeting?”
The little girl frowned, and Zarabeth slowly repeated her question, miming eating. Lotti nodded vigorously and rubbed her stomach. Zarabeth patted her shoulder and said, more to herself than to her sister, “I will see if there is more of that stew Magnus fed me yesterday.”
She rose and went to the otter pelts and drew them back. The men stopped speaking. Slowly, one by one, all twenty of them stared at her. She saw Magnus bending over, speaking to the man Horkel, who held the steering oar. He looked up then, aware of the sudden silence, and saw her. Magnus frowned at her and quickly made his way along the wooden plank that ran along the center of the vessel. He ducked to the side to miss the wind-filled sail. As he passed it, he turned to look up the twenty-foot-high mast with its long cross spar, then nodded, as if pleased.
“What do you want?” He had shouted even though he was near to her now. She strained to hear him over the thick whipping sound of the sail.
