Magnus would have killed any of the men if one had dared taunt him, if one had dared even look at him with a sly grin. He was frustrated and his body was tense, and his scalp was throbbing where Lotti had tried to yank out his hair. He strode down the center plank, then stopped and said to the silent men, “The child cannot hear. If you wish to play with her, you must be careful that no harm comes to her.”
Tostig looked surprised. “Of course she cannot hear. Think you we are stupid?”
“Aye,” Horkel said, “but the little one is not slow of learning. I taught her a word—‘raven.’ She can very nearly say it now.”
“Aye, she’s a sharp little tick,” Ragnar said, albeit grudgingly. He wouldn’t hold the child in disfavor because of her bitch of a sister. His head still hurt from the blow she’d struck him. “She counted all my fingers and toes.”
“Then why did you let her—?” Magnus broke off, shaking his head. He said nothing more, but walked to the stern of the vessel and set himself to brooding.
By Odin, he had been a fool. He’d seen the child, but he hadn’t realized she couldn’t hear, yet his men had known very quickly. His blindness appalled him. He was the master of this vessel, and all its men looked to him, he was their leader, yet he hadn’t even seen something so obvious as the child’s lack of hearing.
“The child saved her sister,” Horkel said to no man in particular, looking after Magnus and his stiff back. “But he will have her soon enough, I wager.”
“Aye, but he won’t harm the child to do it.”
Lotti did not again leave Zarabeth.
That night it stormed and the sky was rent with lightning, slashing white bolts that left Zarabeth so terrified she could do naught but hold Lotti on her lap and, by soothing her, soothe herself. The vessel was sound, she knew, but it seemed to lurch up to crest the waves, only to careen wildly into the deep churning troughs with sickening loud thuds. She could hear the water washing over the sides, knew the men were bailing out the bottom of the vessel as quickly as they could. She heard Magnus’ voice shouting above the din. She heard the creaking of the mighty mast as the men took it down so it wouldn’t be broken in the storm. Zarabeth felt strangely calm. She didn’t understand her feelings toward Magnus, for they seemed to shift continually. But she knew deep inside herself that if they survived the storm, it would be his doing. In this, she trusted him.
Oddly, she went to sleep.
When Magnus entered the cargo area near morning, the storm almost spent, he very nearly smiled to see Zarabeth on her side, Lotti pressed against her, the both of them soundly sleeping. Without meaning to, he pulled a woolen blanket over them, for the early-morning air had become chilled with rain and wind. Zarabeth awoke suddenly and she stared up at Magnus. He said nothing, merely turned about and left the cargo space.
Late that afternoon theSea Windsailed into the harbor at Hedeby, a deep-cut inlet protected from the sea by wooden palisades built in a protective curve far out into the water. There were tall earthen fortifications around the town, like a wide half-circle ending at the water’s edge. There were at least a dozen Viking trading vessels pulled up onto the land, for there was but one pier built out, and a trading vessel was docked on each side of it. Smoke rose from the number of huts that filled the inside of the fortifications. Smells mingled, bringing a heaviness to the air. There were wooden walkways through the town, connecting all the buildings to each other. And more people than Zarabeth had imagined, many more than in York. And all of them busy and talking and hurrying here and there on their separate tasks.
She clasped Lotti safely to her as the men leapt out into the water and dragged theSea Windout of the water and safe onto the shore. She didn’t have a long time to wonder what Magnus intended. He called to her then. “Carry Lotti in your arms to protect her. Follow me.”
Within a few moments her feet were on dry ground, and Lotti was staring wide-eyed at the endless stream of people. Men greeted Magnus and his men, and they returned the greetings. But Magnus didn’t stop. He said curtly to Zarabeth, “Stay close. Hurry. I have not time to waste on you.”
She followed him, silent and staring as intently as Lotti. She saw slaves hauling goods on their backs and women carrying water in wooden pails from a central well. There were stout merchants hawking their wares before their shops. There was a runemaster carving his special letters on a bronze cask, a smithy hammering at a sword. Magnus finally came to a halt before a small wooden hut.
There was an old woman within, and she gave Zarabeth a toothless smile. “This is a bathing hut,” Magnus said. “You will wash yourself and Lotti. I will return soon. Go nowhere else.”
She wondered where else she could possibly go, but said nothing. She nodded and followed the old woman inside the hut. It was hot with steam rising to the thatch ceiling. In the center of the single room was a huge wooden tub big enough for two people. It was circled with thick iron bands. The woman silently handed Zarabeth a square of soap and left her. At the doorway she turned and said, “Yer husband is fetching clothes from his vessel.”
Her husband.She merely nodded. Quickly she bathed Lotti, scrubbing the child until she was trying to get away from Zarabeth’s hands. She wrapped her in a big square of linen and set her on the woven mats that covered part of the floor. She took her face between her hands and said slowly, “Don’t dirty yourself, sweeting. I will be quick.”
When Zarabeth was in the tub, she closed her eyes at the pleasure of it and leaned her head back.
She awoke with a start, sensing something different. She opened her eyes to see Magnus standing over her, staring down at her, that intent expression on his face. She moved to cover her breasts, then realized that her hair, wet and thick and tangled, covered all of her.
“I brought clean clothing for both of you.”
Then he turned and squatted down beside Lotti. She was staring at him, her eyes wary. He smiled and withdrew a lovely antler comb from his tunic. Slowly, with patience that left Zarabeth bemused, Magnus combed the tangles from the child’s hair. Soon Lotti was leaning against him, and when he jerked too hard, she turned and pummeled his chest. Magnus laughed and told her to hold still, he was trying his best. Once her hair was long and untangled down her back, he rose. “You can braid her hair when you are through. I must go now.”
Zarabeth simply stared at the doorway for long moments after he’d disappeared. She didn’t understand him. Not at all.
By the time she had dressed and combed her own hair, it was late and her stomach was growling. There had been only a bit of dried salted meat to eat that morning. She took Lotti’s hand and they walked to the entrance of the hut.
The activity hadn’t slowed. There were so many people, pressing together, but there was laughter too, and she heard some singing from the distance. The old woman was nowhere to be seen. The sun was still hot overhead, and Zarabeth eased down on a woven mat at the doorway, drawing Lotti onto her lap.
She didn’t immediately notice the powerfully built dark-haired man who was striding toward her. When she did, she saw that he was smiling and coming directly to her. She felt something in her respond with hunger at the kindness she saw in his smile.
She found herself smiling back at him. When he reached her, he said, “Good day to you, mistress. You and your daughter enjoy the sun?”
“Aye. And a nice bath.” She waved toward the inside of the hut. “We were both very dirty.”
“No longer,” he said, and suddenly he was standing very close, towering over her. Zarabeth drew back and quickly stood, letting Lotti down to stand beside her, holding her close to her side.
