Page 19 of Her Dark Viking
"The forge? Why?" Mairead closed the lid on the medicine chest she already thought of as hers.
"Those need to come off." Aigneis pointed to the heavy shackle which had bruised Mairead's slender ankle during the few days she had worn it. "The Jarl ordered it. No one here wears chains."
"They do not?" Mairead was surprised, especially given the whipping she had stumbled across. Gunnarsholm had not struck her as a settlement sympathetic to the plight of slaves.
"No need. We are too remote here, no one would be foolish enough to attempt to escape just to be devoured by wolves or murdered by cut-throats. The shackles serve no purpose and just get in the way of the work. 'Tis best they be gone. Come, while there is daylight still."
Aigneis led, and they rounded up Donald on the way. He had been sitting on the ground with two other boys and the three of them played a game which involved tossing sticks into a circle etched in the dust. He was reluctant to leave his new friends, but Mairead insisted and the trio trooped across to the smith's forge.
Donald flinched as the smith clouted the metal pin out of the shackle on his ankle, but it was the work of moments andsuddenly he was free. Mairead allowed him to scamper back to his game and passed Tyra to Aigneis as she extended her own foot for similar treatment. The vibrations rattled up her leg as the smith swung his mallet once, twice, and a third time before the pin flew from her shackle in a shower of sparks. The smith stamped on the smouldering sawdust which covered the rough dirt floor, and once he was satisfied that there was no imminent danger of his forge going up in flames he offered the women a toothless grin and returned to his workbench.
"Come." Aigneis was already striding back towards Gunnar's longhouse, Tyra still in her arms. "You will no doubt we wanting a bath, then you can get some sleep. Tomorrow we have much to do. You will help me with the washing, then we shall collect berries. I want to check if the turnips we planted are ready to be harvested yet, and there is flour to grind. If we have time I would like to... "
Mairead followed in the woman's wake, her ears still ringing from the din of the forge. Yes, a bath would be welcome, and she was more fatigued than she could recall in a long time. Even if her Viking captor did demand his sleeping chamber back on his return, and he surely would, for now it was hers and she was ready for it.
The next fewdays passed peacefully enough. Despite the dizzying list of tasks which she had reeled off, Aigneis insisted that Mairead rest and concentrate on caring for Tyra. The Viking's bed assigned to her was large, comfortable and above all warm as the sleeping chamber was served by its own small fire. Mairead usually curled up within the furs soon after dusk fell,and did not venture out until daylight poked through the gaps in the eaves above her head.
She assisted Aigneis in her work and found life at Gunnersholm not especially onerous. There was always work to be done, but plenty of willing hands to share the labour. Donald preferred to spend his days with the other boys who seemed to accept him readily enough within their midst. He enjoyed herding geese and milking goats but was particularly keen to assist in the stables.
With the natural ability of a child, Donald picked up more of the Nordic tongue with each hour that passed. Mairead also found that she was starting to understand more and more of the conversation around the settlement. She could exchange greetings and conduct a simple exchange with the other women when they all gathered at the river to wash clothes. Her new life was neither harsh nor unpleasant and the work not especially arduous. The community was cheerful enough, and welcoming. She began to think that perhaps, despite the inauspicious beginning, she and her little family could be content here.
"May I go out of the settlement this morning, to collect plants? Herbs, for cooking or for treating ailments? I am not sure what is permitted..." Mairead had observed that everyone, thralls and karls alike, came and went at will.
"Of course, but you should not be alone. Go with others. There are wolves, bears, wild boar, not to mention the dangers presented by the robbers who roam these lands."
"I see. Then, who...?"
"We shall both go, and Weylin too. He can trap a few rabbits for the pot..."
"I have no wish to inconvenience anyone. I just thought... this is something I could do, to help..."
"We have no healer, no one who understands herbs and such like. All will be glad of your skills so it is no inconvenience to aidyou in assembling whatever ingredients might be needful. Come, we shall go at once. What plants exactly are you seeking?"
"Burdock if I can find it, perhaps poppies, a little ground ivy or St. John's wort. These are all useful. Do you have wild garlic hereabouts? That would add flavour to the pot, as would marjoram or sorrel. There are plants good for use in dyes too, such as woad, madder, and tansy."
"You can recognise all of these?" Aigneis looked uncertain.
"Of course. Shall I teach you about them?"
"Nay, I am too old to be learning such new tricks, but I shall enjoy the excursion, as will Weylin though he will doubtless complain the entire time we are out. He will be glad enough of the flavouring in his food though, and so will the Jarl when he returns."
"Has there been word? Do you know when Gunnar might be back?"
"No, lass. He will be at least another week though." Aigneis rose from the table where they had been sharing thedagmal, the morning meal which the entire household took about an hour after rising from their beds. Donald and Weylin had already left to be about the day's chores leaving the women to clear up. "Will your boy come too?"
"I shall ask him." Mairead disengaged a sleeping Tyra from her nipple, re-arranged her clothing and left the longhouse in search of her son.
She almost failed to recognise Ferris when she passed him close to the forge. It had been over a week since the other slave’s ordeal at the hands of Gunnar, and though he walked with a certain stiffness in his gait he appeared recovered. Nevertheless, Mairead felt compelled to offer aid.
“I can make you an ointment if you require it, a salve to aid healing…” She made her offer as he slunk past her. Ferris pausedand turned to regard her, his expression considering and not especially pleasant.
“You are his fuck-slave.”
“No.” The comment might yet turn out to be true, and in any case the entire question was not in her control, but Mairead was affronted by his insolent manner. She shook her head. “I am to work in the Jarl’s longhouse, that is all. And, I am a healer, so if you would like my help I would be happy to?—“
“I need no help unless you are offering to slip a dagger between that bastard’s ribs as he sleeps. That would be a service to all of us.”
Mairead was shocked. “I did not... I would never…”
