“I heard that you hit her first,” Deogol replied. His tone sounded bored, as if he could hardly be bothered with this pettiness between women. Like his brother, he preferred to speak with men about hunting, fighting, and defending their borders.
“I did it because she is slovenly and must be punished,” came Edlyn’s reply. I am the ealdorman’s wife. She must accept my punishment.”
“Clearly, she does not.”
“Have her whipped then.”
Osana sucked in a breath at this. She had not considered how her behavior might be punished. She had not stopped to consider the consequences at all.
She glanced down at her right hand, still fisted. Her knuckles stung. She felt exhausted.
Six months of belittlement.
Six months of being treated like a dog, lower than the lowest servant.
Osana clenched her fist.Let them whip me—I couldn’t take any more.
“She is my brother’s widow,” Deogol replied. “I’ll not have her humiliated over nothing.”
“Nothing?” Edlyn snorted, her voice raw now. “She struck me, and I will not tolerate it. She must go, Deogol. I don’t care where. I won’t have her under my roof for one more day!”
A chill silence fell, and even through the heavy tapestry that hung between Osana’s alcove and the hall, she could feel the tension. She hoped Deogol would reprimand his wife for being so shrewish—Raedwulf would have done in his place—and yet the silence stretched on.
“Osana,” the ealdorman called her name, raising his voice only slightly. As if he knew she would be listening—waiting. “Come here.”
“Are you sure you want to come with me?” Osana glanced over her shoulder, from where she was tightening her palfrey’s girth, and met Lora’s eye. “It’s not right that you should be banished too.”
Lora snorted before busying herself with tying on the last of the packs behind the saddle of her horse. “Deogol did me a favor. I’ve tired of having Edlyn for a mistress. You can’t travel alone anyway.”
Osana huffed out a breath. Deogol had offered to provide them with an escort, yet Osana had refused. She knew two women traveling alone was not safe, although they had horses at least, but she did not want his assistance. Despite that she had no idea where she would go, a part of her thrilled at the thought of leaving Hagustaldes. She had felt muzzled, suffocated, by this place for so long that all she could see was a grim, colorless future. Now, the path ahead had promise.
Saddled and packed, the two women led their horses out of the stable into the yard beyond. It was a chill, windy morning; gusts blew straw and dirt across the hard-packed earth. It was the second moon cycle after Yuletide, and it had been a strangely dry winter. At least they would not have to contend with mud on their journey.
Osana swung up onto the saddle and adjusted her skirts. Under her tunic, which had splits on each side, she wore goat-skin leggings and high fur-lined boots—this attire was more practical for riding and would keep her warmer too. She had ensured Lora was dressed the same way, although the woman did not look at ease, seated upon her palfrey.
A few yards away, Osana caught a flutter of movement out of her eye. The ealdorman and his wife had emerged from their hall to see her off. Tall and blond, his shoulders broad in the fur cloak he wore, Deogol’s face was expressionless. Beside him, her right eye purpled, Edlyn was smiling. Their servants clustered around them, necks straining, as they watched the shamed widow take her leave.
Osana felt like spitting at them.
For years those men and women had smiled at her face and pretended to care about her—yet it had all been a lie. The relationship between them had only ever been that of master and servant. They had only seen her as a means of survival, and she could not blame them for that. Only, seeing the naked curiosity on their faces, she felt betrayed.
Osana glanced right at Lora. Her friend was trying to get comfortable in the saddle, her face creased in worry. Friends were rare, and yet over the past six months, Lora had shown herself to be worthy of trust. They had worked side-by-side, cooking, cleaning, weaving, and sewing, becoming as close as sisters.
She sensed Lora’s nervousness this morning but knew she would not leave her side.
“Are you ready?” Osana asked.
Lora glanced up and nodded.
Osana turned her palfrey, glancing back over her shoulder as she did so.
Deogol alone lifted a hand to bid her goodbye. No one else moved. Edlyn watched her, eyes bright with victory.
Aye, you might have won,Osana thought,but I have no wish for your life. You are welcome to it.
With that, she urged her palfrey into a trot and headed for the east gate out of Hagustaldes.
She could not leave this place soon enough.
