“I know. I must look directly at her so she can see me speaking.”
Magnus grinned and ruffled the girl’s nearly white-blond hair. “You have a wise tongue, Anna.”
The evening passed slowly. As much as he fought it, Magnus went several times to his chamber to see that Zarabeth was all right. She was sleeping soundly each time, but still he worried. Everyone noted his trips to and fro. He returned to hear the men discussing the killings on the Ingolfsson farmstead, a small property some two days to the south by boat. The Ingolfsson daughters had been raped, the younger boys killed outright. Haftor Ingolfsson had been gone hunting for winter stores with most of his men. He had returned to find carnage, his animals slaughtered, his slaves captured. There was outrage at what the outlaws had done, and word of the disaster had passed quickly. It was too bold, too daring. It was unexpected and frightening; no man liked the sound of it. No Viking would stand for it.
There would be a special meeting of thethingheld in three days in Kaupang to determine the men responsible by the proof presented, and what was to be done.
Later in the evening, Magnus was sitting in his master’s chair with its beautifully carved seat posts, thinking about what a mess his life had become, when he suddenly heard a child bellow, “Papa! Papa!”
He looked up to see Lotti running toward him, her thin arms outstretched, fear on her face, and again she shouted, clear as could be, “Papa! Papa!”
He caught her as she dived for him and pulled her close against his chest, pressing her head against his shoulder. She was sobbing, her body heaving and shuddering against him.
He spoke to her softly, his hand stroking up and down her back, then shook his head at himself. She couldn’t hear anything he was saying. Slowly he pulled her away from his shoulder and sat her on his thighs. He pushed the tangled hair from her face. “What is wrong, Lotti?”
She was still weeping, but now her sobs were hiccups.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
She stared up at him, her eyes wide.
“Did you dream about monsters and evil beings?”
She nodded slowly, then said loudly, “Papa,” and clutched him about the throat.
“A filthy little idiot—and you let her call you that! ’Tis disgusting!”
Magnus paid no heed to Ingunn.
Horkel said, “She spoke clearly, Magnus. She is learning very quickly here.”
“I expect it is a word she spoke before she became without hearing. Zarabeth told me that Olav struck her head when she was two years old. She was not born without hearing.”
He rocked the little girl in his arms, wishing fiercely in that moment that she had been born of his seed. She stiffened in his hold and he allowed her to lean back in the safe circle of his arms. “Zarabeth,” Lotti said, and she was frowning, and there was that damned fear in her eyes again. He wished he could wipe it out for all time.
“Zarabeth will be fine. She’s sleeping now, just as you should be, little sweeting.”
Lotti raised her hand and lightly ran her fingertips over his lips. It tickled, and he grinned at her, trying to bite her fingers. She laughed, that harsh, mewling sound. It delighted him, that laugh of hers, and made him feel fiercely protective.
He hugged her to him again. She settled herself against his chest and was soon asleep.
Horkel looked at his friend for a long moment, then shook his head. “’Tis no good,” he said, and there was great sadness in his eyes and in his voice. “’Tis no good at all.”
Magnus knew what he meant, but he refused to accept it.
***
Zarabeth was sitting up on Magnus’ box bed the next morning. He had gone before she awakened, but now she was hungry and needed to relieve herself. But she hesitated to go into the main hall. Ingunn would be there, and Cyra and all the others who had heard and seen and held her as naught but a murderess and a liar and a slave.
“Coward,” she said to herself, and rose. She was stiff and it hurt to straighten her back. Ingunn was there, naturally, overseeing all the household chores as she sewed.
Lotti was with Eldrid, and the woman was showing her how to sew. Zarabeth had to lean down and hug her before the child noticed her. Lotti gave her a big grin and pointed to the stitches she had just made in a small gown.
“ ’Tis lovely,” Zarabeth said, and kissed her. But Lotti wasn’t to be distracted, and turned back to Eldrid.
Ingunn said in a very neutral voice, “Aunt Eldrid is looking after her. It is Magnus’ order. He is not here, but out hunting with the men. He said you were not to do anything.”
Zarabeth wasn’t aware that there was strain in her voice, but all the women and children in the longhouse who were listening heard it and felt the pain of it. “I would like to bathe.”
