“Nay. She owes me, not you.”
His voice was not as strong now, but no less stubborn. It had cost him to make the effort to stop her, and he would argue further if she insisted. She could see that plainly, which was why she conceded, though with ill grace.
“Very well, but I like it not. And you lie back. Rest is as important for you as food just now. Do not let me see you ignoring either one again.”
Selig took one more look at his slender, slim-hipped tormentor, huddled in the dirt, and smiled, or tried to. Even that was too much of an effort for him, and he dropped back onto the pallet with a groan.
Kristen gnashed her teeth together. Her rage was on his behalf, yet he was the one denying her an outlet for it, and it was so strong, she really did need to do something. Yet she could see his point. Had she been abused thusly, she wouldn’t want her family taking revenge for it if she were capable of taking her own. And Selig would be capable of it once he was recovered—he hadbetterrecover.
She glanced once more toward the Dane, staring hard at her for a long moment before she approached again. Erika was still on the ground, though sitting up now, and she didn’t rise. Kristen’s expression was no less wrathful than it had been. Erika’s was wary.
But it was to Thorolf whom Kristen lookedwhen she reached them, to ask, “Has she eaten?”
“She does not deserve it,” was his curt opinion.
Much as she agreed with him, she grudgingly admitted, “Though it seemed otherwise, Selig was not denied food by her or her people. And you heard him,” she added with disgust. “She is to be kept hale and hearty for the time he can deal with her himself.”
“Youmean to restrain yourself?”
It was said to calm her ire somewhat, and to a degree it did just that. His sister Tyra had been her closest friend during her growing years, and Thorolf had taken his sister’s place for Kristen in her new home. In fact, he could tease her as her brothers did and get away with it, whereas others could not.
That he teased her now made her look at herself critically and brought a sigh. “I will content myself with imagining what Selig will eventually do to her.”
“Boiling in oil?”
“At the very least.”
Neither noticed that Erika had gone chalk-white, unaware that they were both teasing. Panic rose, and bile that she had to swallow down. And if they had not gone on to talk of camp and sentries and plans for the morrow, she would never have been able to compose herself before those light aqua eyes of the Norsewoman fell on her again.
“Feed her, Thorolf,” Kristen ordered, her tone sharp once more. “Then bring her tome to secure for the night. I will need rope. If we have none, send someone to the village for it.”
She turned to leave. Erika stopped her. She had just been treated like an object, talked about, not spoken to. It was enough to make her lose her temper entirely, though she merely noted it, was too dejected and frightened still to have room for anger. Which was a good thing, for it would be stupid indeed to further antagonize these people.
“You may as well secure me now, for I cannot eat.”
“You will—”
“I cannot chew, Lady Kristen.”
It was no lie. The inside of Erika’s cheek had gone numb and would as like be eaten as any food. Nor did she add that the very thought of food made her nauseous.
She said instead, “Mayhap in the morn.”
Kristen said nothing for a moment, debating whether to force the issue, but finally conceded with a nod and a final word to Thorolf. “Fetch the rope now.” Then she yanked Erika to her feet and dragged her back to the wagon.
Erika was not returned to the wagon bed as she had half expected. She was shoved back to sitting on the ground, with one of the wagon wheels at her back. Kristen stood beside her, tapping her foot impatiently while she waited for the rope. Still, no word had been said to Erika directly, and none seemed forthcoming.
As the minutes passed, Erika began tosquirm. She knew she was going to be bound and ignored for the rest of the night, and the thought recalled to her that she had not…
Her face was already heating, but she had to ask, “Could you?—I need to—that is—”
A frown came with the blunt interruption. “Was Thorolf so lax that he did not take you to the bushes?”
Erika’s face was now flaming, but she got out, “Nay, but I could not—with him. You told him not to let me out of his sight.”
“Nor would he have, but a prisoner cannot afford to be missish.”
“Please. I am asking you, woman to woman. If you would but put yourself in my place—”
