This time he accepted the brew, drinking steadily. Deena took the cup away when it was empty and approached a small chest. From within it, she brought out a dagger and set it beside him.
“I’m going to leave this here. And I’ll return to my own dwelling to finish my sleep, as most should do in the middle of the night.” Deena’s voice hardened. “But if you truly want to die, I’ve given you the means.”
She stopped in front of the door, about to leave. “If you’re alive when the sun rises, put all thoughts of escape out of your mind. This is your home now. This is the path you’re meant to take. God has put you here, perhaps to teach you humility. And you must accept your fate.”
Heslept,harderthanever before. It was as if his body could not heal itself until he’d made up for every hour he’d lost. The sunlight pierced his vision when the door opened. Kieran rubbed his eyes and saw the dagger still beside him.
His penance, she’d said. And though invisible ropes tightened around his throat at the knowledge of his slavery, he knew she was right. He had failed his brother. He deserved to lose his birthright and his family. To become a slave, to accept this punishment.
The door swung open and his master, Davin Ó Falvey entered the hut. His expression was grim.
“You caused a grave inconvenience to my men last night. I don’t know how you managed to free yourself from the ropes, but I won’t let it happen again. I’ll sell you back to the traders, and they can do what they will with you.” His gaze narrowed. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about the carving.”
There was no doubt Davin meant what he said. Many slaves were traded by the Norsemen, sent across the sea to Byzantium or to faraway lands. And though Kieran’s life would never again be the same, at least he could remain upon his homeland.
All he had to do was agree to complete the dower chest. It wasn’t as if he had a choice, was it? He had to endure this fate and complete whatever task was ordered of him.
He sat up slowly, pressing through the pain. “I’ll begin working on the chest this day.”
Davin’s shoulders lowered slightly, a barely perceptible relaxation. “Not yet. Before I let you touch the chest, you must first prove your skills.”
Prove his skills? He’d been carving wood since he could hold a knife. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t bring to life from a block of wood.This is your penance,he reminded himself, swallowing back his frustration and resentment.
“I want you to carve a likeness of my bride Iseult. If I find it worthy of her beauty, I will allow you to finish the chest.”
He might have known. The woman loathed the sight of him, and he didn’t have any desire to spend time with Iseult MacFergus. And yet, he had no choice if he wanted to capture her spirit in the wood.
“If I carve her likeness, you won’t have the dower chest in time for a bridal gift.” It was a last, fruitless attempt to change his master’s mind.
“I would like the figure, nonetheless.” Davin opened the door wider and pointed toward one of the huts. The morning sun illuminated the interior of the ringfort, the glaring light burning Kieran’s eyes.
“The smallest hut belonged to our woodcarver, Seamus,” Davin said. “Inside, you will find the tools you need.”
“And the wood?”
“It is there.” Davin leaned down and picked up the knife Deena had left behind. “You will begin the carving after your confinement.”
Confinement? His knuckles clenched as the full weight of his slavery pressed down upon his shoulders. He was to be punished for running away again. Of course.
“For three days, you’ll remain guarded, in isolation. If you do as you are told, on the last day the guards will leave, and you’ll be permitted to begin the carving.” Davin tossed the knife and caught it by the hilt. “You should be grateful for Iseult’s mercy. I would have confined you outside for the three days.”
“I don’t need a woman’s pity.” The words came forth, behind a backlash of anger. “There is no punishment I am unable to endure.”
Davin leaned down, the blade flashing in the sunlight. “I will not tolerate disrespect toward her. She asked me to grant you mercy. For her sake, I will.” He turned the blade close to Kieran’s skin in an unspoken threat. “I’ll send the guards now. They’ll take you to Seamus’s hut.” Without another word, he strode outside into the sunlight.
Kieran rolled over and stared up at the ceiling of thatch and wood. He didn’t want to waste his days carving a woman’s likeness. It didn’t matter that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He hardly needed Iseult’s presence to create the image. Already he could see the curve of her cheek, the sadness in her expression.
He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the vision of the last female likeness he’d created. He’d almost wed Branna, but her heart had belonged to another man in the end.
Treacherous work, indeed.
“I’llcomewithyou,”Davin said.
His offer didn’t make Iseult feel better. Just the thought of being watched by the slave, letting him carve her image, made Iseult nervous.
“I’d rather not do this at all.” She moved to a basket of mending Muirne had set aside and picked up a bone needle. The sewing gave her something to occupy her hands. “It makes me feel vain. What need do we have of a likeness?”
“I want it.” He came up behind her, resting his hands upon her shoulders. “I want something of you, for when we are apart.”
