For two more days I was assigned to milking. I had made some progress, but it wasn't enough. I was too slow. Furious, the servant in charge sent me back to the overseer.
I found him in the smoking house, inspecting the last catch of fish. He was a middle aged man, with grey streaks in his hair and beard, and a disfigured face from a wound that had cost him his left eye. At the best of times, he was scary.
That day was worse though, as he wasn't happy with me.
"What can I do with a useless thrall like you? I should punish you for your laziness!"
Ashamed I cast my eyes down. A cold shiver ran down my spine as they fell on the whip hanging from his belt. It was a thing of nightmare: thick, knotted strings ending with metal beads. They were the cause of the long scars on Mildred's back. They frightened me into begging for mercy. "Pray forgive me! I'm sorry, I had never done this before. I'll try harder, I promise."
He looked down at me, his mouth twisted in contempt. "You are lucky that Einarr Godi protects you. I don't know what he sees in you; you are quite ordinary, but he is the master here."
My brows shot up. Did Lord Einarr really forbade him to hit me or did he just forget to withdraw his previous instructions? Anyway, I wouldn't complain. I did my best to appear humble. "I can do the laundry..."
"Then that's what you will do, but only for the slaves' clothes. I wouldn't let you touch more valuable ones. And you will work in the kitchen. Can you at least manage this?"
"Aye, I can. Thank you!"
I bowed and ran towards the longhouse, stopping abruptly at the door. Wouldn't that bring me too close to my captor? For the last couple of nights I had resumed sleeping on my bench, waiting until he had retired in his room to lie down. The weather had become too cold for me to stay away from the fire, with the frost closing in. I was worried that being inside during the day would cause me to meet him.
As I walked in I could tell that my fears were unfounded. There was no sign of him. He must be training or touring his lands. The cook seems happy to get help and I was handed a basket of muddy neeps to wash. When I came back from the stream I offered to peel and dice them for the stew but he shook his head. "The maidservants will do this. Slaves cannot touch knives."
I nodded; I had forgotten my station. Aidan had been kind enough to extend his privilege to me, but here it was different. I had betrayed their master's trust. In their eyes, I was dangerous. The next basket was dropped into my hands and I went to work.
Days go fast when you are busy. From morning to evening I did nothing but walking to and from the river, my hands raw from brushing and wringing, my arms and back sore from carrying vegetables and soaked fabric. The water was warm but the cold air bit my damp skin, causing painful cuts in my knuckles. During the storms, I got drenched and battered by the wind. Then came the snow and I slipped a few times, falling on my bottom and bruising it.
Surprisingly I didn't catch ill again. Within a few weeks, the nausea receded. Yet I was exhausted. Many times during the day I felt an irresistible need to sleep, and I got into the habit of napping whenever I could.
With the frost I couldn't hang the clothes to dry in an open shed; they would have broken like glass. So I did what I had done before; I brought them to the steam room.
The laundry was usually done on Saturday, and it was a joyful moment where the women joked and laughed with the men who were bathing upstream. Which is precisely what I wanted to avoid. I tried to have everything done during the week, so that I could stay away from them, and him.
I sneaked into to bath house after the evening meal, when the household was preparing for the night. I spread the damp fabric on the benches and added a pile of turf to the hearth.
The days had shortened dramatically and I couldn't go to my favorite bathing spot anymore. The snow would have exposed my path and I didn't want anyone follow it. Not that I was under watch; we were on an island and I bore the marks of slavery. There was no place for me to hide if I ran. Without food or shelter, I would have faced certain death.
And then wandering at night was dangerous, so far from the settlement. Who knew what could lurk in the dark?
So I took the opportunity to wash in a warm place; I put a kettle on and thoroughly cleaned myself. Then, in the morning, I got up early to collect the dry clothes, leaving no sign of my visit.
It worked well and it became a daily ritual. Until Svana found me.
A few weeks had gone by and I had let my guard down. I was lathering when I heard the door open. Terrified, I retreated to the farther corner of the room, away from the light of the fire. What would happen if a man found me naked? Would Lord Einarr's orders still apply?
"Who is here?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear.
"Sunngifu? Is it you? I thought I saw you slipping out, but I wasn't sure."
I nearly cried in relief. "Svana, I'm in here. Give me a moment, I need to rinse and dress."
I didn't want her to see the laundry, she couldn't hold her tongue. I didn't know what the overseer would say of it.
"Are you bathing here? Why don't you come to the pool with us?"
"I have no time! The sun goes down early and I need daylight to do my tasks. It is easier this way. Don't mention it to anybody, I beg you. I don't want to be punished, or worse, for a man to assault me here."
Svana smiled. "I will be mute. But are you not excited? Jol (Yule) starts on the morrow!"
I gasped. How could we be so close to the midwinter feast that marked the birth of Christ? I had been so absorbed in my tasks that I had lost track of time.
"It is my favorite time of the year. There will be dances and banquets, we will eat pigs and a horse will be sacrificed."
I cringed as I was reminded of her people's pagan beliefs. They killed and ate horses, something the church strongly disapproved. I could never eat this. Yet Svana was beaming; she was a child at heart and I didn't want to hurt her feelings.
"It is great. I can't wait. But it is time to go to bed if we want to be fresh for the celebrations. Let's go back."
She babbled away while we covered the short distance to the longhouse. I couldn't quell her enthusiasm, so I nodded and made approving noises when she took her breath. We separated at the entrance as Lady Disaelfr wouldn't be pleased at our closeness.
Hiding under my blankets, I tried to calculate how much time had passed since I had left England. The result shocked me. Nearly four months!
Something bothered me and it took me a while to figure out what. I hadn't bled! Not once in four months! A knot formed in my stomach as the meaning of it hit me. I was with child.
I lay on my back, holding my breath. My hands crept onto my breasts. They were big, far bigger than they ever were. I had noticed their increase in size but had dismissed it as a sign I was putting on weight. With the sickness gone I had been eating more. Tentatively I moved my fingers lower, on my belly. It was undeniably swollen. I pressed gently, on what I had assumed was fat. But it wasn't. There was something inside. A new life was growing there.
I rubbed the little bump. I was to become a mother. My baby. And his.
Suddenly, there was a weight on my chest. His child. He didn't want it. He didn't want me. If I told him he would be forced to marry me.
My thoughts took a strange turn as I imagined us married. How it could have been if I had bent to my father's will. Lord Einarr's joy at the news. His kiss. His arms around me. How they would hold me close at night. My life as the mistress of his house, taking care of his estate in his absence. His return after the summer, with tales and gifts from some foreign land. It was a dream, and not an unpleasant one. Just one that would never happen.
What could I do? Make him wed another woman he loathed? Make both our lives miserable?
My condition was soon going to show. I decided to wait. I could still miscarry. Then I wouldn't have to tell him.
I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to fall asleep.