“No,” she said, still trying to smile, “no longer at all.” There was no reason to fear this man. There were dozens of people about. He was being kind to her. “I have never been to Hedeby before. It is crowded, more so than York.”
His smile didn’t slip, but he ignored her words. “Is it true you came with Magnus Haraldsson, aboard theSea Wind?”
She nodded, wary now, yet not understanding what it was he wanted.
“He is a fool.” The man reached out his hand and lightly stroked a lock of her damp hair. She didn’t move, merely drew back very slowly. He still smiled at her. “You’re beautiful.” He touched her arm then, and then jerked her toward him, dragging her off-balance. “He’s a fool to leave you here unprotected. Ah, but you are beautiful.” He touched her hair again, wrapping a thick tress around his fist. She saw the hunger in his eyes, recognized it for what it was. “I have never seen such a color. And your eyes—that green is beyond what a man dreams of. I would have you. Come with me now and I will save you from Magnus. He’s a cruel man, all know of it, a savage who knows nothing of the needs of a sweet and gentle creature like you. He would hurt you, perhaps even kill you with his beatings. Come with me, quickly. I will care for you, treat you like a queen. Aye, quickly, come!”
“Go away. Leave me alone.”
“Fear me not, for I would never harm such beauty as you hold. I have heard you’re his slave. You would be a fool to stay with him. Come with me now.”
Then, without warning, he leaned down, yanking on Zarabeth’s hair so that she couldn’t move without pain, and kissed her hard on the mouth.
Just as suddenly, Zarabeth heard an enraged cry. It was Magnus. In the next moment the man was whirled away from her and was staggering from the blow Magnus had given him.
Then Magnus was standing over the man, and he held a knife in his hand. “You dare to touch what is mine, you craven fool?”
The man held his jaw, then slowly rose. He shrugged, angered, for he had heard that Magnus was well-occupied. Well, no matter. There would always come another opportunity, another time. He said easily, “The woman was there, and she was willing. She waved me over to her and spoke sweetly to me. Would you not take what was offered from such as she?”
Zarabeth was shaking her head, crying shrilly, “He is lying! He—”
“Shut your mouth!” Magnus turned back to the man, his eyes narrowed. “Get you from my sight, else I’ll slit your miserable throat.”
The man gave Zarabeth a melancholy smile and then took himself off. “He lied, Magnus,” she said, frantic now. “He lied! He came over to us and he was nice, but then he grabbed me and wanted me to go with him. I told him to leave me alone, I swear it to you.”
He interrupted her, his voice savage and cold. “Enough! By Odin, to think I actually believed I could trust you alone for even a moment! You damnable bitch! Come, I know what must be done to you.”
He took her arm and dragged her down the center wooden walkway. Lotti, clutching to her skirt, ran beside her. Past a dozen huts he dragged her, to the blacksmith’s. “Here,” he said, and flung her inside.
Still she didn’t realize what he meant to do. She backed away, pulling Lotti with her. “What do we here?”
“You are a slave. It is time you bore the mark of one.”
Then she knew. “No, please, no, Magnus.”
He ignored her and spoke to the smithy.
As the sun lowered for the night, Zarabeth walked beside Magnus back toward theSea Wind.He carried Lotti.
Around her throat was a slave’s iron collar.
She felt such humiliation, such hopelessness, she didn’t want to go on. Were it not for Lotti, she believed that she would fight Magnus until he was forced to kill her. She walked several paces behind him, like a dog.
13
When theSea Windtook the sharp wind off the Oslo Fjord and veered into the viksfjord that led to the Gravak Valley and the home of many of the Haraldsson family, Zarabeth heard the men cheer. She looked out of the cargo area, curious. The men were sitting back on their sea chests, their oars still as wind filled the huge red-and-white-striped sail. She met the gaze of Ragnar, the man she had struck to escape in York.
She wanted to shrink back at the barely veiled hostility in his eyes, but she forced herself to stand perfectly still.
“What want you, slave?” Ragnar asked, taking a step toward her. His eyes were on the slave collar around her neck.
“I wondered why the men were cheering.”
“We near home. Another half-day is all, and then you will begin your life as a Viking’s slave. You will not like it, and I shall be pleased at your misery. The slave collar becomes you. It fits you well.”
“What goes here, Ragnar?”
Zarabeth marveled at the suspicion she heard in Magnus’ voice. He distrusted Ragnar? Surely he knew the man despised her.
