A few days before Beltane and the twins' birthday, Baron Ainsley had a cruel idea. He passed the great hall long into the night, thinking and speaking aloud go himself. He coveted riches and power, and the Vikings supposedly had both. Should he secretly align himself with them then he would be rewarded! Rich! Richer than the king himself, who traveled in tents and whose stone castle smelled of human sweat and dog waste.
The next night he sent a lowly peasant before dawn with a message to Yngvarr Bodmodrson, inviting him to our keep. I watched him from the shadows and divined his thoughts by the light of greed in his eyes. My sire hoped to tempt the Viking with a trade post, something small his neighbours wouldn't mind too much, for he was afraid of being attacked.
A trading post meant a neutral area but that could be a front to his wickedness. If anyone displeased him he could threaten to set the Vikings on them. He wouldn't have the power, of course, but the threat worked just as well.
A week later the norseman arrived. Albert brought him to the highboard, offering him food and wine. Our hall was not big like one of the big lords closer to the king's seat of power, but it was comfortable. The walls were a dark grey, and they were covered with tapestries from my late mother and my stepmother. The hall had 4 long tables for the men to eat, and the highboard, where my lord father and stepmother usually sat.
My stepmother was not present this day, for she was in confinement. She was to have her fourth child, to add to the two sons and a daughter she'd already borne. If this babe was a girl, my father planned to send her to the convent to be a nun, and if it was a son, to the church to be a priest. He already had an heir, a spare, a warrior, and now he wished for one for the church, as clergy in high places could always help one get away with actions less favoured men couldn't. As for daughters, he had me and another girl to barter. Another would be useless to everything except the church because there was no one to barter her to.
Behind the highboard was a tapestry made by my mother before she had me. It was of our home, and our family crest, a lion and a snake, oddly fitting, I know. I was hidden in the stairs, observing the strange guests' entrance. Yngvarr Bodmordrson's men took up all four tables, and the man himself was very tall, 2 meters at least, with shining blond hair intricately braided and a long beard of the same colour just as groomed. His skin was tanned from the sea and his eyes were a moss green. He looked handsome and virile, but his eyes were cold, evil. They looked around everywhere, taking in the wealth Baron Ainsley was too stupid to hide in his quest to impress the Viking. Father's men were insterspected between the foreigners, but the Viking leader dined next to father, carefully not saying anything and letting father do the talking. I had no doubts he was doing it purposefully, letting father boast all he wanted to learn whatever he could.
When they had eaten their fill, Yngvarr Bodmordrson waited no longer.
"What do I gain by treating with you that I wouldn't by storming your lands and enslaving you all?" he demanded.
"You have few guards, and mine are better trained anyway." He looked around and spotted me by the stairs. His laser gaze pierced mine, seeing through me, yet when father made to look my way he cleared his throat to demand attention and an answer.
"Ah, but if you enslave us you won't get what I can provide. I have access to buy slaves all over Anglia, and thr means to feed and transport them to you. After all, Yngvarr Bodmordrson, you can only enslave and plunder us once, but you can gain every summer from what I provide with little work."
"What do you gain?" Yngvarr narrowed his eyes craftily.
"Gold and your fine jewellery." Baron Ainsley laughed effusively.
"Just imagine, the little you lose now can be gained tenfold in the ensuing years!" I could see the northman considering.
"You do have a point, but what do I personally gain from it?' He smiled most cruelly. Baron Ainsley smiled back.
"What do you wish, Yngvarr Bodmordrson?"
"A virgin from your loins. I want to be sure you won't renege on your deal."
My father laughed. "Very well. I have just the thing you want, my lord Yngvarr. Virgin and just as beautiful as the woman who birthed her. Albert, bring my eldest daughter, she ought to be useful for something at least." I ran to my chamber, cursing myself for a fool. Would he demand this of me if he had not seen me? Or was this something to test my sire? Lord and Lady save me. I pretended to be coming out of it when Albert found me.
"What is happening Albert?" The dear servant started crying kissed the hem of my dress, kneeling on the floor. He looked deathly pale and the sight only weakened my courage.
"You're being bargained lady... He's giving you away to that beast, in exchange for money and power. Oh my Lady... what is going to be of us now? What is going to be of you? Lady Annelise is a good woman but she is not as strong as you are, she doesn't protect us like you do, and she is with child again." With me gone they could never hunt, or fish again as they used to.
"Pray Albert. That's all we can do. Pray for the best, be strong, and never show fear." I unknowingly echoed my mother's dying words, though they never left me.
I went to the highboard and Yngvarr Bodmordrson's eyes searched my person with attention. I was wearing a plain tunic with a forest green bliaut and my curly hair was loose beneath my green veil with a gold and silver coronet holding it in place. I was wearing soft house shoes, of the same colour as my clothing. His gaze was such that I might as well be nude for the way he looked at my chest and hips.
"Oh yes, she will do perfectly. Are you sure she is a virgin?" I trembled when he said it, but I didn't show it on the outside. No, my mother's words never left me. Never show fear.
"Yes my Lord. There are no servant here who would dare to despoil the wench and she has no male visitors of suitable station. You can even have her tonight if it pleases you." I trembled visibly this time, but kept my panic from showing through, though I was sure the Viking could see it from the way his smile shifted.
"Are you not Christian?" The norseman wondered. His eyes roved over my figure with frightening lust and I quaked in fear. Lord and Lady please grant me a better man than my mother got.
"Why would I bow to what an invisible God thinks? I leave that foolishness to women and peasants. Nay, I care more about my lands and possessions. Her mother was useless enough to give me a first born daughter and dying when I finally got heirs on her. The least this wench can do is be of use to me. I always planned to give her away in a marriage that would further my goals, and I willingly give her to be your slave in exchange for our cooperating. I will get you what you want, and you will give me what I want. You can consider her a personal gift for your discontent in not having a good battle this day, my Lord." He grinned. The Viking looked at his men while he pondered.
"Sounds a good proposition. Every spring I will want 50 males, and 20 females, they are to be strong, and healthy. No crones. I want fine fabrics, spices. If you are trading, you have to give me the right items. I accept hens, cattle, sheep. I also will want horses. The finest you can find." The Viking unloaded the list on the Baron, and Albert wrote it down.
"Very well, my Lord Yngvarr. In exchange for this, I want gold, silver, furs and your jewelry." They nodded to each other, shaking hands. My chest was so tight the air refused to enter my body. I was lost.
"Very good, my Lord. The wench is yours."
I couldn't contain myself any longer, and breaking all the rules, I dared to speak.
"My lord, you cannot give me to a Norse, what will I do to earn my living? Are you so heartless you would sell me to be a slave? Where is your affection my lord? You are my sire and yet you treat me like cattle. My late mother would turn in her grave if she could but gaze upon you now." I begged.
"You are a woman, women are nothing but parcels. You are weak, and need a man's protection. I do not wish to give you that protection any longer, you are old enough to get another. And you will do as I command, you miserable wench. I say you are to go, and you shall go. If you defy me, I will draw you to my knee. I would have killed you upon birth if not for this reason."
"Sire, I..." I had to try, I had to!
"ENOUGH. I will not have you shame me in front of our guests Ailith. Albert, give me the cane, now."
He came towards me in large steps and threw me to the floor. Albert gave father the cane for he could not refuse an order despite the pain in his eyes, and my father struck. The first strike was the most shocking. My heart refused to beat for one long moment and I thought I would die, but I wasn't spared. The second came, and my heart started beating again. I bit my lip. Father didn't deserve the pleasure my cry would give him and if I was to be given then I would not dishonor myself to cry in front of the man I was delivered to. The cane struck again and again, each strike harder than the last. Father grunted in his anger, but I didn't scream even when my skin broke and the garment tore from the tip of the cane. The gashes in my skin bleeding for all to see. I laid on the floor with tears pooling beneath me.
"Forgive me my lord Yngvarr, the wench is not usually so disrespectful." Yngvarr's men, who had mocked me in the beginning of my punishment stopped upon his order, and now looked briefly at me with respect, before averting their eyes pointedly. To my great surprise, Lord Yngvarr seemed displeased when I looked at him, but maybe I shouldn't. I was his property now.
"If the wench acquires scars because of your brutality I will not do business with you. I will not avail myself of a wounded slave. Norse men have honour." My father paled at that and sent for Elvia. Nobody helped me off the floor, and I did not ask them for any. My pride was better than that.
I felt weak, broken. I could not move for even a tremor increased my pain a hundred fold. It was unbearable, but I waited, unmoving in the cold floor, until Elvia arrived with three other women. Elvia gasped when she saw my state. Gently, she commanded the women to turn me, and I gasped in pain when my behind and back touched the cold stone floor. Following Elvia's orders, they tried to carry me without jarring my wounds, but I fainted.
I woke up in the middle of the night with my bottom burning and moonlight spilling inside the bedchamber. I realized I was naked and lay in my bed belly down, covered only by the furs. I was still in pain, but not as much as before. I was also afraid of moving, in case it set off another bout of agony.
I heard something moving, and saw a shadow rising from the chaise and gasped in fright.
"No need to fear me... For now. I do not avail myself of wounded slaves, and you are clearly wounded." His voice was deep, grave, and had a northern accent, it made me shiver. He came towards my bed and took the bedspread from me.
"What are you doing my Lord?" I gasped, but I could not move to cover myself, for it would mean to expose other parts. I felt the cold air in my wounded back and it made me shiver, half pain and half relief from the burning. He sat down next to me and focused on my wounds.
"I do believe you will scar, min smukke pige. It will be a shame for your body is beautifully proportioned and very womanly." He touched me with a finger in the base of my neck and slipped it down, following my spine.
"Do not touch me my lord. It is most unsuitable."
"Why is it not? You are my property, I am your master. You do as I command and if I want to touch you, I shall."
"We are not on your Northern Lands yet, my Lord. I am still a free person." I told him, trying not to shiver from his touch upon my skin.
"Your sire has drawn the agreement, it is signed and sealed. You are my slave."
"I am wounded my Lord. To upset me will only delay my recovery." He thought that over.
"Very well. I will let you recover. But I am sleeping on your bed, on your bedchamber."
"What? Why?" I was so astounded that I forgot my manners.
"Because I wish it and your father allows it." He told me ruthlessly.
"Very well, my lord." I said, unwillingly.
"You are going to be a most delightful conquest, min smukke pige."
"What is that you call me, my lord?" He laughed at me.
"If you ever deserve it, I will say it, little girl." He covered me again and I whimpered in pain when the fur dragged on my wounds. He stopped and, changing to the foot of the bed, righted the bedspread in a way that would not drag on my skin. Turning his back on me, he sat down in the chaise and took off his boots, his tunic, and was unfastening trousers when I gasped in panic
"My lord, what are you doing?"
"Disrobing is it not obvious? I am going to sleep."
"You can not mean to sleep nude my lord, it is most improper." I exclaimed. He ignored me and disrobed completely, before standing in front of me to give me a chance to see him. His shoulders were wide, his arms thick, and covered in blond, thick hairs. His chest was also covered in the same pelt which turned into a line to his navel. His torso was also strong and muscled with his belly divided into groves. I had never seen anything like that, but it was strangely appealing. The line of body hair then continued below the navel straight into... I closed my eyes then, but it was already too late. His loins were full of blond hair and his... organ was long, thick, and big. I heard his loud laugh and realized my innocence amused him. I felt the bed dip beside me and his big body stretched in my bed. His arm came down upon my back and I inhaled in surprise and pain.
"My lord, I..."
"Sleep." He commanded me, and shifted his arm to my shoulders where it wasn't so hurt. I stayed frozen, thinking he was deceiving me, but a few moments later I heard his snores. It took a long while but I finally fell asleep again.
"My lord, you're hurting me. Wake up. Please wake up." I shoved at him with one arm, trying to get his leg from my wounds. It was still the middle of the night.
"MY LORD WAKE UP." I shouted. His arm suddenly tightened and I was pulled roughly against his chest. I hissed in pain.
"Why are you awakening me, wench?"
"My lord, your leg... It's touching my wounds." I gasped. He immediately let go of me and took his leg from my backside with a roughened "forgive me", rolled to the other side and promptly fell asleep again, leaving me pain racked and sweaty with extortion.
I started crying quietly, trying not to make any noise, but even so, I felt him move again. He got up from the bed, and I closed my eyes trying to pretend to be asleep. I heard him move through my bedchamber, heard the splash of water and the bedspread was taken from my body again, before I felt something moist touching my wounds. I started and felt his big hand on my back pushing me down.
"Relax, I am just tending your injuries." He said gruffly. The way he spoke, seemed more like an apology than anything else.
"Thank you." I mumbled, and I knew he understood the double meaning. Thank you for not being cruel like baron Ainsley. Thank you for easing the pain, little as he was capable of.
That night I dreamed of a ship unlike any I had ever seen before. In them were my brothers, men grown. Their hair was braided down their backs and their chests were covered in marks. They looked happy, and safe.