Viking, me.

Chapter 8- slave girl

The towns people had gathered and we stood listening as most were shouting and I stood there uncomprehending any word screamed in displeasure. My arms still wound around Sven's I looked up. His hair falling down his back and his rough touch stubble stippled across his strong chiselled jaw.
"What's  happening?" I ask my voice hushed.

Sven's eyes sparkle as he looks down at me. "We are at war!" He says a little too gleefully for my liking.
My fist clench in clumps of his tunic top. 'War' the words instilled fear in my very being and my chest cavity hummed with the beating of my heart...
'Shit'

"When?!" I ask "who's coming" I ask my panic catching his attention.
"Are you worried" he asks a little bemused. I scoffed and looked away. Folding my arms.

"Not for your life" I said dropping his arm. There was a loud cry in demand. Looking up to the man I front of us I see he spreads his arms out and the people who had gathered before him dispersed leaving warriors to stand in two lines.

"If he addresses you, he most likely won't, call him Earl" I try to pronounce the word and find it a little tricky but nod in agreement. "Follow me, and stay close and just stay quiet" he utters under his breath. I do as instructed and clutch onto the back of his linen tunic. We stop and Sven bows to the earl. I lower my head and stay behind Sven.
I peek up into the stony eyes of the earl. And quickly lower my eyes again and freeze in place. He looks furious.

"Come in side" he says, he is speaking in Irish? Why? My nerves are killed when they continue to speak in Norse.
I find myself standing by a woman who walks with me as we follow the men inside. I recognise her and when she catches me looking as her I mutter an apology and she smiles a little. There is a man tending to a woman far along in her pregnancy by the thrown where we settled ourselves. There is a chair set beside Sven by a servant boy who then retreated quickly.
I stand quietly awaiting Sven to say something to me.

He sits and holds out a hand to me. Sliding my hand, tiny in comparison into his he pulls me forward and rests my hand on his shoulder. I don't understand a word of what's being said but I tired to pick up words that sound somewhat similar to english words that I've heard.The discussion was serious, the earl used hand gestures that compiled with assuring stability in a country. Or so I imagined.

The woman who had walked in with me was perched on the throne beside the earl. Her eyes looked me up and down. I felt a little sensitive to her gaze. She had her young son on her lap and she braided his hair in a similar style to Sven's. Her son had cold blue eyes and blonde hair like his mother, but in difference to her son the earless had a shy smile. She said something to the earl and he gruffly agreed and Sven nodded his head. Sven's hand suddenly squeezed mine on his shoulder. Not hard to hurt but just enough to steal my attention.

"My mother wishes to tutor you" he said in a whisper. As the earl addressed his young son.

"These are you parents?" I asked in disbelief. My voice rose by a note or two and caught the earls attention.
I froze. He rose from his seat and much like Sven usually did he towered over me.

"Slave girl , bow down to your master!" He roared. I stood dumfounded by the uproar. Sven rose also to be above my height and he rested a hand on his fathers shoulder.

"I said kneel!" He screeched - as manly as possible of corse. He grabbed my hair in a fistful clump and tugged me to my knees. I whaled in pain as he threw me to my knees.

"Father!" Sven protested. He shoved his fathers shoulder and took a good step back. I had hung my head clutching my scalp trying to hold the blood in. My chin was yanked up and I was given a raw slap. Gasping in pain I touched my lip, finding blood oozed from the tender skin. The woman stood up and roared a sentenced that I'll never understand.

*"rollo, sitte ned og holde kjeft!" Her voice held as much power and startled me into submission. I stopped my light whimpering. Her hair swished and she stepped down to the floor and knelt in front of me.

"Bli med meg" she said softly. I presumed asking me to stand. I did and she smiled at me reassuring me.
"Bli med meg" she repeated as she led me past a wooden screen to a normal house like room.
There was a table where she sat me down. Tilting my head in two different directions. She muttered to her self as she rinsed a cut of fabric in some water and dabs my lip.

"Thank you" I say although I know she won't understand me. She smiled and there were heavy foot steps that stopped when the woman looked up. I held the cloth to my lip.

"Sven" she said. I stayed still, I was embarrassed, he had said one thing! Stay quiet. I don't want to be hit again.
He said something and she left. Uttering a few soft warning words.
He came and sat in front of me pulling up a stool. He pulled my knees in between his.
His hand reached up and tuck the wet cloth and he looked at my lip. He dipped it back in the water and reapplied it to my lip. I hissed a little at then pain when he pressed too hard.

"I'm sorry" he pauses "I should never have brought you here"
I stay silent as I cannot deny him of that right thought. I cannot lie and say I am happy to be here.

"Why did you!" I gritted my teeth. My lip stung under the pressure of forming words. Glancing up into Sven's stormy eyes. I froze as he stands up and leaves. There are angry words exchanged as he storms out of the earls hall. I stay seated and listen to anybody approach. Nobody does. It gives me time to gather myself and and thank Sven's mother with a low bow and swiftly leave. If war is approaching I'm going see a lot of more heated exchanges. I look up onto the streets over crowed with people shopping in the market and chatting. Since going in side the sky has grown a grey colour and the weaves in the fiord lap against the shore growing in intensity. I wrapt arms around myself and begin to walk home. To a house I'm sure I'll eventually hate.