“Careless slut! Pick up the bowl and place it on the counter. I will have you beating the flax now, if you have the skill for it, and if you do not, you will remain at it until you have gained some!”
Zarabeth forced herself to take deep breaths to regain her calm. She wanted to murder Ingunn, and that would never do, but she could not let this continue. For whatever reason, the woman hated her. She said then, her voice low and calm, “I am hungry, Ingunn. I will beat your flax into threads when I have finished eating. No, I have not done it often, for in York there were others to do it. Now that I have explained, you will please leave me alone until I have eaten. You will wait with your orders until then.”
Zarabeth bent down and picked up her wooden bowl. She heard a strange hissing sound behind her. She whirled about but wasn’t quick enough. Ingunn brought the leather-thonged whip down across her shoulders. She felt pain sear through her and gasped. She flung out her arms to grab the whip, but Ingunn was faster. She stepped back and struck again, so hard this time that Zarabeth fell against a huge cheese barrel and tripped. She was on her hands and knees now and the whip struck her full on the back, and she felt the wool of her gown split wide. She tried to fling herself on Ingunn, but the leather thongs struck her again, wrapping around her sides, the pain burning through her so that she gasped with it. It had to stop, but it didn’t. Again and again the whip struck. She had to get up; she had to stop it. She shuddered with the effort to rise, and fell again to her knees.
She heard the women and children all talking, heard Cyra calling for Ingunn to kill the bitch. She heard Eldrid yelling at Ingunn to stop, but she didn’t. She could hear Ingunn’s deep, wild breathing. It only seemed to madden her more. Zarabeth’s gown was shredded now, but she knew if she raised her head, Ingunn would strike her face and her chest. She felt blackness pulling at her and fought against it with all her strength. Then she heard Lotti, the strangled mewling sounds she made when she was distressed. Lotti was close now, and suddenly Zarabeth was screaming, “No, Ingunn, do not touch her! No!”
The beating stopped. Zarabeth raised her head, holding her shredded gown up to cover her breasts. Ingunn had grabbed Lotti and was shaking her hard. Then she was raising the whip to the child.
“No! You touch that child and I will kill you!”
Ingunn laughed. “She’s naught but an idiot, your sister, and you are nothing but a slave!” She lifted the whip. Zarabeth jerked to her feet, only to fall forward.
“No!” she screamed. She realized it was only a whisper.
16
“By Thor’s wounds! What are you doing? Ingunn! Stop it, woman!”
Magnus stood frozen, unable to believe what he was seeing. Ingunn was holding Lotti by the arm and had raised the whip. She was actually going to hit the child. He called her name again, but she didn’t seem to hear him. She was panting, her breasts heaving, and she was focused entirely on the child. Magnus ran to her and grabbed her wrist just before the whip came down upon Lotti’s back, wresting the whip from her hand.
She was white-faced, her eyes nearly black with uncontrolled fury. It shocked him, this viciousness in her. He threw the whip away, grabbed his sister’s upper arms, and shook her hard. “What is the matter with you? Why would you strike a child? And with a whip! Answer me, damn you!”
Ingunn blinked at him, and he shook her again, but before she could answer, he heard Lotti making those raw mewling sounds and quickly turned to the child. She was running toward... He saw Zarabeth for the first time. She was on her knees, and was holding her gown up in front of her chest. Her hair was hanging down either side of her face, tangled and sweat-soaked. Her face was utterly without color.
He dropped Ingunn’s arms.
He felt something in him twist and burn. He watched Lotti throw her arms around Zarabeth’s neck, saw Zarabeth’s arms slowly come around the child’s back.
Something was very wrong. He slowed himself. He reached Zarabeth but found that words wouldn’t come to his tongue. He felt pain flow through him, raw and deep, for in that moment she fell to the side, taking Lotti with her, unconscious. He saw her back then, covered with purple welts from Ingunn’s whip, saw splotches of blood where the whip had broken her flesh. Tendrils of hair stuck to her back. For a moment he was sickened with the shock of it; then black rage rushed through him like a wild fire. That he had brought her here for this.
He looked up to see his aunt. “Fetch hot water, Eldrid, quickly, and soap and clean cloths.” Without another word, he lifted Zarabeth over his shoulder, careful not to touch her back. It was then that everyone seemed to become aware of him and of what had happened.
Ingunn yelled, “Leave her to the slaves! Let them take her to the slaves’ hut. She is an insolent female, nothing but a slut whom you have already bedded! Why do you care? You brought her here to be a slave and your whore! She will be well enough this night for your rutting. She is nothing, Magnus, nothing!”
Cyra tried to catch his sleeve. “The woman insulted your sister, she yelled at her and called her horrible names and would not do as Ingunn told her to do and—”
Magnus shook her off, knowing that if he touched her, he would likely kill her. He carried Zarabeth into the dark chamber and laid her on her stomach. Slowly he pulled the red strands of hair from the welts on her back. He pulled her shredded gown to her hips. He heard a soft sobbing and turned to see Lotti, her small fist in her mouth, standing in the doorway, afraid to come closer.
“Come here, Lotti, and sit beside her. When she awakens...” He realized it would be difficult for her to understand. He left Zarabeth and went to the little girl. He lifted her, hugged her to him, smelling the sweet child-smell of her, then set her beside her sister on the bed.
He took her face between his hands and said slowly and calmly, “Stay beside her and smile at her when she awakens. All right?”
Lotti swallowed and slowly nodded. There was such fear contorting her features that Magnus wanted to yell with fury at it.
Instead, he gently lifted Zarabeth onto her side. There was but one welt that had snaked around her back and made a narrow red mark just below her breasts. He drew another deep breath and eased her back onto her stomach.
Eldrid came into the chamber. Behind her was a slave carrying a rushlight. She fastened it into the holder on the wall.
Magnus began washing Zarabeth’s back. He didn’t look at his aunt, merely said, “Tell me what happened.”
“I am too old for this nonsense, nephew,” Eldrid said. “I am teaching the little girl, just as you asked of me, but the sister, ’tis too much, Magnus. Ingunn hates her and wants her gone from here—that, or dead. What could I do? The child tried to help her sister, and Ingunn turned on her. What could I do?”
Magnus said nothing. He was washing the welts on her back. “Have you one of your herb remedies? She will have pain, and I would stop it if I could.”
Eldrid shook her head. “Juice of the elderberry would do her good, but there isn’t any. Only in the fall, perhaps in October. The woman is young, she will bear her pain as so many do, without your liking or disliking it.”
He hated Eldrid in that moment, but he had no choice but to keep her here. She and Helgi, his mother, could not bear each other, so Eldrid had come to live with him some five years before. She had birthed no living sons to see to her well-being. She was sour and hard, except with children. Yet she had not protected Lotti. Ah, perhaps she had tried, but she was an old woman, depending on Ingunn as well as on him. And Ingunn had seemed as a berserker going into battle. He drew a deep breath and lightly patted a welt that had drawn blood just above her hips. He cursed then, soft and long, and looked up to see Lotti staring at him.
