Chapter Five
Her muscles ached. It felt as if Odin himself was stamping his feet on her body. She knew neither up from down, darkness from light, everything was just pain and confusion.
Her eyes flickered open. A dark figure loomed over her, but she couldn't focus and his features blurred together in one dark mass.
"Frea," he murmured.
Esben.
"It's going to be all right." He tightened his arms, pulling her closer to his chest. They were moving. He was carrying her. "I'm take you away. Somewhere safe."
Safe. She tried to form the word but her lips wouldn't move. Where? She tried to reach up and touch his check but her arm wouldn't respond.
"Somewhere safe," he repeated, lowering his head to brush her temple with his lips.
Her eyes flickered shut. Finally, her Norseman was taking her to freedom.
"The poison was in her food," confirmed the healer. "Thankfully she didn't eat enough for there to be any lasting damage. Just temporary paralyse and it's already beginning to wear off."
She stepped away from the bed but Esben didn't respond. He'd rushed Frea from Alf's longhouse back to the safety of his isolated hut. She was resting in his bed, her face deathly pale and her limps stiff with inactivity. He sat by her side, gripping her hand in one of his. It was a small, fine boned hand but still the hand of a thrall. The skin was roughened with work, and her fingertips slightly chapped. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her palm and she murmured softly in her sleep.
How could anyone want to harm her? He clenched his teeth. She was a thrall. She owned nothing and hadn't harmed anyone. She certainly hadn't done anything to provoke anyone. This appeared to be a crime of pure spite.
On the windowsill, Tyra ruffled her feathers. The healer glanced nervously her.
"Ah…thanks," said Stein. "If that's everything—" He opened the door and the healer left, her eyes on Esben's hunched form.
The moment the door, Esben straightened. "Was it Dalla?"
Stein shook her head. "Dalla what?"
"Who tried to kill Frea, of course."
Stein shrugged. "Why her? She gets that privilege in a couple of days time at the funeral. Remember." He rested a hand on Esben's upper arm. "What's got into you? The thrall is going to be fine."
"Not Dalla then." He tapped his knee with his free hand. Stein was right. Dalla didn't want Frea to die before the funeral. She'd made her delight of Frea's impending sacrifice very clear. He tapped faster. Gerd? She hated Frea with a passion but she'd had no opportunity to poison the food.
"I get that it was a slight against your honour," continued Stein, "I just don't think you should worry—"
Esben raised a hand, silencing him.
The poison had been in Frea's food, and nobody else's therefore whoever had poisoned her must have come into contact with the food after it had been served.
He jumped to his feet—that left only one person. The thrall who'd served their meal had ample of opportunity. He remembered Frea speaking to her, but the woman hadn't replied.
"Stein," he said, throwing open his trunk and buckling on his weapons' belt. "Watch her. Don't let anyone in, and lock the door behind me."
"Captain, what are you going?"
Esben crossed to the door, throwing it open with such forced it hit the outside wall and bounced back. "Seeking justice."
"For Thor's sake, Esben. Frea didn't die, you're honour's intact."
"She was under my care." He raked a hand through his hair. He could hardly keep his thoughts in order. It was as if the heat of battle was upon him and he needed to act. The axe at his hip sung, crying to be put to use. "I never should have taken her back to the village. It's my fault. I need... I need—" He needed to punish the thrall who'd hurt Frea!
He stepped outside, and Stein grabbed his shoulder, trying to pull him back. "You need what?"
Esben wrenched himself free and stormed down the hill. "Protect her with your life."
The blood was pounding in his ears. This had nothing to do with his honour and everything to do with Frea. She'd almost died and he'd almost lost her forever.
Surprise rooted him to the spot. Where had that thought come from? True, he'd already admitted there was a connection between them but this was different. This was something else, something stronger. His heart thumped against his chest.
"This is an honour mission," he said, as if saying the words aloud would make them true. "I'm sworn to protect her, that's why I seek justice. The thrall woman insulted me when she threatened my ward."
He burst into Alf's house. The table had been cleared and only a few people remained—Gerd, Dalla, Bersi, Tue and a handful of thralls. "Where is she?" he barked. "Where's the thrall who served at table?"
Tue stepped forward, Gerd just half a step behind him. "You behave beyond your rank, Captain. You have no authority here."
Esben grimaced. Tue was one of his crew but it seemed that in this blood was thicker than water. "I swore a blood oath to protect her, that's all the authority I need. Whoever harmed her will be caught and punished by my hand."
"You can't—"
Gerd laid a hand on Tue's arm. "You're right," she conceded, meeting his stare with a challenge. "The girl is here. Do as you see fit." She pointed towards the fire and the thrall stoking the coals looked up.
Her eyes widened. "I didn't..."
He pushed the blade against the woman's throat. A necklace of ruby red blood droplets coloured her pale skin.
"Why?"
Her mouth opened but she didn't speak.
"Why?"
"She's a sorceress." He pulled her closer, gripping her wrist and she recoiled. Her eyes darted to Gerd then, "She always got Alf's favours. He pampered her. And now she's been treated like a queen. Good food, drink, her own place at the council table." She tossed her head, her voice rising. "It should have been me. I've been here for fifteen winters, I deserve a place in Valhalla."
"You superstitious fool." He gritted his teeth, ready to strike.
She stared back at him with eyes full of fear and a thick, iron collar clamped around her neck. He dropped his arm—he couldn't do it. She'd poisoned Frea, and his blood boiled to think of Frea harmed, but this woman was a thrall too.
Uskit'r. A few days ago he would have killed this woman without a second thought. Now all he could see was the fear in Frea's eyes. It was as though the walls and furnisher of the longhouse were lost behind mist and the only reality was those eyes—big and dark.
He pulled back.
"Weakness," hissed Gerd. Then she nodded at Tue who pushed forward and buried his dagger in the thrall's heart, silencing her forever. With a sigh, she collapsed against Esben. He tried to catch her but blood soaked her dress, and she slipped from his grasp, crumpling on the ground at his feet.
"It wasn't you place to kill her," he barked at Tue. "She wasn't your thrall. Or yours," he snapped at Gerd.
"Dalla will understand." Gerd sat back down on the chair by the hearth and picked up the white shroud she was working on. "Dalla trusts my judgement."
He opened his mouth, a string of curses on the tip of his tongue, then stopped. A thought was niggling at his mind—everything was beginning to fall into place. Gerd had manipulated the thrall, somehow convincing her to poison Frea. "If Frea died while under my care, the village would have lost faith in me"—however little—"giving you the perfect excuse to take away my command, my crew and my ship," he theorised.
She pursed her lips, not saying anything.
"You were trying to discredit me," he confirmed.
He wrinkled his nose. Why would she want to do that?
Power. He owned the allegiance of thirteen strong sea-warriors. And Gerd saw him as a threat.
He sheathed his sword, rubbing his hands down his breeches to clean them of blood. He had worked too hard to let Gerd undermine everything. "I wasn't weak" he said, glancing down at the seat thrall. "Just compassionate."
She shook her head. "A warrior shouldn't know feelings of compassion. You are weak."
"Alf didn't think so."
"Alf—" The word seemed to burst from her mouth. She started again. "He was a born leader. He kept the settlement safe, protecting us from our ambitious neighbours. I'm proud to be his mother."
"But not everything he did was to your liking." Like promoting him to raid commander.
She stared at him, and the loose skin around her mouth sagged a fraction. "Your mother... We were friends, even though she was a few winters younger than me"
He let out a short, sharp breath. Friends? Thor's blood they weren't. This was just another scheme to discredit him.
"I always knew there was something not quite right. She didn't respond as other people did. She angered quicker and tried faster." She took a step back, sinking behind Tue. "You look a lot like her.""Why hasn't anyone told me this before? I don't remember you being friends. You never came to visit. You didn't even come to the funeral.
"Your mother died long before her body left this earth." She straightened. "I'm tired. I'm in mourning. You can leave now."
Dalla and Bersi emerged from the shadows.
Esben gritted his teeth. Gerd had to be lying; trying to enrage him into violence. But he wouldn't respond. Tue and Bersi were ready to cut him down if he acted out of place and if Esben attacked first, they be fully justified.
He looked them up and down. They overestimated themselves, he was more than a match for them. Tue's bottom lip stiffened as their gazes met. Did he hope to inherit Alf's position? Perhaps.
He signed. It seemed he had the allegiance of only twelve sea-warriors.
Her eyes fluttered open. Shadows covered the world and the low glow of embers cast a soft, flickering light over the figure hunched in the chair beside her bed. Between his hands, he clasped a ceramic cup.
Esben. No, Stein.
She shifted and her insides screamed. Everything ached.
"You're awake." Stein straightened. "Esben was worried. Just for a moment," he added, as if it wasn't quite possible for a Norseman to worry all that much about a thrall.
"Is this awake?" she asked, her words slurring. She tried to push herself into a sitting position but her arms gave way. "What happened?"
"You were poisoned. We think it was snake venom."
"P-poisoned?" Had she heard right? "I don't understand."
His eyes softened half a shade and he lend in closer, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. "I'm not really sure what happened exactly, but it seems the poison was in your noon-meal."
"My meal—" She'd eaten at Alf's house and Mildburg had been there. And now... She glanced around: Esben's house. Her heart sank. He hadn't taken her to freedom at all. Nothing had changed. But she'd been so sure...
God, what a stupid thought. Of course he wasn't going to save her. He was her guard, her jailor, her killer, but never her rescuer. It had been a hallucination, not a true thought.
Stein ran his hand over his head, a gesture very similar to Esben's frustrated twitch. She blinked. Where was he? Was the thought of her death so unimportant that her poisoning provoked such a small reaction?
"How long was I out for?"
"All afternoon and most of the night." He took a sip from his cup.
"And Esben?" She tried to sound casual but the question caught in her throat.
"He brought you back here then left again." He tensed. "He hasn't returned yet."
Another night had passed. Only eight days left. She was running out of time.
And Esben cared nothing for her.
She needed to escape. Now.
Her eyes darted around the room, searching for inspiration. What she really needed was a distraction so she could sneak passed Stein.
"I'm not feeling so well," she murmured. "Perhaps a little drink?" Straightening, she pointed to Dalla's flask still resting on the small table.
"Oh, right." He passed it over and she pulled out the stopper, bring the lip to her mouth and pretending to drink.
"Thanks." She relaxed against the bed-board and it creaked.
He watched her for a moment longer then settled back in his chair.
Silence resumed.
She wiggled her toes and clenched her fists. Everything ached, but the agony was subsiding. She could walk. She would have to walk.
"I'm a little cold," she murmured, glancing towards the dying fire.
He didn't move.
"I'm sorry," she nudged, her heart hammering in her mouth. If Dalla heard her speak this way to a Norseman she'd be whipped. Then again, Dalla was going to plunge a knife into her heart. At least Stein appeared to care a little. "I don't mean to be a nuisance," she said, playing on his sensitivities—if he had any.
"No, it's fine." He put his cup on the ground, turned in his chair and stoked the fire.
Quickly, she lent over the edge of the bed and tipped some of the ceremonial wine into his cup. She straightened just as he turned back.
"That better?"
"Yes, thank you." She settled back down, watching him through her lashes. He downed the liquid in a couple of sips, then crossed his legs on the small table and lent back in the chair.
Time passed. His eyes drifted shut and his deep breaths filled the room. She pulled back the reindeer skins, watching him intently. Had it worked? How deeply did he sleep? If he woke while she attempted to escape she'd surely be punished.
Tyra lifted her head out from under a wing, her blackest-black eyes piercing the semi-darkness.
Don't, she silently willed the raven to stay still.
She turned her head, watching Frea, but didn't move from the window sill.
It's time, Alf would have nudged. Don't fear, you've done this once before, you can do it again.
She scuttled from bed on unsteady legs, pulled the knife out from under the mattress, and pushed the door open. A cold wind rushed in and she shivered. If she was going to survive she needed more clothes.
Stein's cloak was hanging on a hook by the door. She pulled it around her shoulders, then paused. "Alf?" she whispered, her eyes searching the hut for any sign of him.
Go.
It suddenly felt as if he was dying all over again. She couldn't go through the pain of losing him again. She couldn't leave him, not for eternity!
Frea. Please. It wasn't a suggestion, authority laced his words. Now.
The blood was pumping in Esben's ears, sweat rolled down his back and in one hand he grasped his battle-axe. Before him, a disarmed Wodan doubled over, his hands resting on his knees.
"Here." Esben sheathed his dagger and offered Wodan his hand, pulling his crewman upright. "Good fight."
They were standing in the training yard to the east of the settlement. Kormak lent against the wooden railings surrounding the open area, squinting at them through the evening gloom. Wodan wiped his hands down his tunic then retrieved his sword from the ground.
"You fought well, Captain." His voice faulted.
"But what?"
"But nothing." Woden shook his head.
Esben signed. He knew exactly what. He'd let his emotions interfere with his training. He glanced towards his house, invisible in the darkness. Frea was up there, her body fighting against the poison's hold. He looked towards the village where Gerd planned his ultimate downward spiral back through the ranks.
He'd been so distracted by Frea, he'd almost missed Gerd's attempt to disempower him. How could he have been so foolish? Winters of work almost destroyed by a moment of attraction.
A moment of attraction to a thrall. If that wasn't weakness, then he didn't know what was. Where had his self control gone?
"Esben," called Kormak, jumping the fence. "It's too dark to keeping training. Lets call it a night."
He ignored Kormak, tightening his grip on his battle-axe. He couldn't finish the training session like this, he needed to prove to himself he hadn't lost all sense of discipline. "Wodan, again?"
He nodded and Esben smiled. Wodan was an older man but up for pretty much anything. He was also a deadly fighter, extremely skilled in close weapons combat.
Kormak backed out of their way, dragging his feet.
"Salute." Esben touched the hilt of his weapon to his chest. "Guarding stance." He slipped his left foot back, centring his weight. "Begin."
Wodan lunged forward, cutting towards Esben's neck. Esben stepped to the side, slashing at Wodan's ribs. The sea-warrior scuttled back and Esben's axe just missed his hip.
Esben took a deep breath and began circling Wodan, his eyes never leaving his opponent's face. This was better. The carefully controlled movements of battle were beautiful in their logic and calculability. Calm washed through him.
Wodan cut the distance between them in half, thrusting his sword against Esben's axe. They grappled, muscles tight, and Wodan's eyes narrowed, his grip slipping.
The inevitability of victory made Esben's heart leap. This was how the world was supposed to work; with an opponent before him everything else began to fade away. It was as if Frea had never existed.
Frea.
Thor's hammer! He broke contact. How dare Gerd attempt to poison her! How dare Gerd attempt to undermine his command! His hands shook and heat flooded his face. He re-engaged, meeting his opponent blow for blow. Metal resounded as their weapons clashed.
Everything was out of control. When Alf had lived, life have been hard but everyone knew their place. His death had thrown everything into mayhem. Gerd was trying to discredit him and kill Frea. And she had Dalla, Bersi and Tue on her side.
Tue. Rage tore thought him as he continued the fight. Tue had been his crewman, they'd fought side by side, defending each other from their enemies' attack. And now he'd been abandoned. Did Tue think so little of him after all their time together? What had Dalla said to change Tue's mind?
Of course, Gerd's mistrust of him was the result of his mother's madness. She didn't trust him because his mother's blood flowed through his veins. A battle cry tore from his lips, and he was dimly aware that Kormak was yelling. How could a woman he remembered so little have affected his life so greatly? And what was all that nonsense about Gerd and his mother being friends?
"Esben!" Kormak's voice sounded very far away. He blinked, clearing his vision. Wodan lay on the ground, his sword several feet away. Esben lent over him, knees pressed against each of Wodan's sides, and his axe against his throat. What had happened? He couldn't remember.
"W-what..." He scrambled back. "I'm sorry Wodan."
Wodan touched his neck, wiping away a thin line of blood, then rose to his feet. "You lost control."
Esben pushed his axe into his belt, the weapon suddenly an unwelcome weight in his hand. "I'm don't know what happened— We were grappling..." And then he'd though of Frea. Again. And it had all gone down hill from there. It really was as if he'd been bewitched by her. His mind seemed unable to comprehend any other thought with clarity.
Neinn. He didn't believe in magic or sorcery, just human emotion and frailty. What had happened here had been all his own fault. He'd lost control of his mind and body, almost killing one of his crew. He closed his eyes. Only the most dishonourable warriors evoked the berserker fury. It had never happened to Esben before.
"Don't worry about, there was no serious harm done. You're just a bit out of sorts." Kormak clapped him on the back. "It's understandable. Alf was your best friend. The two of you were close."
Esben looked at Wodan. Would he forgive Esben for putting his life in unnecessary danger?
He shrugged, weariness fading from his eyes. "I remember when my brother died. It was about a month before you started raiding with us. I was so angry and distracted—" He pulled back the collar of his shirt to reveal a jagged scar beginning at his shoulder and disappearing beneath his shirt. "It happens to us all. We just have to make sure it never happens twice."
Esben pursed his lips. It shouldn't have happened. He should never have put his men at risk like that. If Woden had been injured or worse, Esben would have nobody to blame but himself.
There was nothing else to it: in the morning he'd relinquish his position as Frea's guard. Dalla would gloat but at least life would return to some sort of normality. He never wanted to experience the berserker fury again. It would mean failing his promise to Alf and he'd never forgive himself but it was a price he was willing to pay for the sake of his men and his sanity. Nothing was worse than losing control.
"Yes?" pressed Woden.
Esben nodded. Wodan and Kormak's loyalty was invaluable. They still respected him, despite the fact he was several winters younger and still, it seemed, had a lot to learn.
"Call it a night?"
"I guess." Esben sighed. "I'm am sorry Woden about—"
"It's fine." Woden clamped him on the back and strode from the training yard, Kormak at his keels.
Esben turned his face towards the wind and let the cold rush over him. He didn't want to return home right away. Frea was up there and she was probably waiting for some answers. He'd have to tell her about Gerd and the poison and how it had all been because of him.
He gave a humourless laugh. At least that would soften the blow of his abandonment. Nobody wanted a guard that got them poisoned. She'd probably be glad to get away from him.
His stomach tightened. His house could seem very empty without her.
He hit his chest with a fist. He had to stop thinking like that. He felt nothing towards Frea. Nothing more than lust and simple physical attraction.
Tomorrow she'd be gone from his life.
It was better that way, he needed to focus on his own problems. Gerd and Tue, Dalla and Bersi.
"Esben," Stein called, stumbling through the dark towards the training yard. "She's gone."
Shock held Esben ridged for a moment then his mouth dropped open. "What?" He broke into a run, charging up the hill, back towards his house. "Where is she?" He threw the door open, glancing left and right. The bed was empty and the house deserted.
"I don't know." Stein followed Esben inside. "She drugged me. I've only just come round."
"She drugged you?" Esben could hear the words but barely comprehended their meaning. Frea. Gone. He rounded on Stein. "I ordered you to protect her, not let her escape."
"I didn't mean—"
"Get out."
"But I can help. We can go after her together." Stein raised a hand imploringly towards Esben. "She can't have gotten very far, she's still recovering from the poison."
"Neinn! Just go. I'll deal with you later." He banged his fist against the windowsill and Tyra ruffled her feathers indignantly. How could he have been so stupid? He'd known how unhappy she'd been, he just hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. When he'd taken her outside that morning and she stared at the ocean with such longing, anyone should have been able to guess her thoughts.
He'd have to go after her, she wouldn't survive outside the settlement by herself. Somebody would eventually find her and he'd seen enough sea-warrior brutality to know she'd be better off dead. He grabbed his cloak, then paused. It wasn't the first time Frea had done something like this. She was of Celtic blood, but ten winters ago she'd wondered into the settlement all by herself. She had to have been a run away thrall, even before Alf had found her. There was no other way she could have travelled across the sea to Scandinavia. And, if she'd survived in the wild once before, she could do it again.
A strange sense of pride tingled in his chest. He'd known there was a fighting spirit in her still. He dropped his cloak. She'd be fine without his help. There were settlements up and down the coast, she'd seek refuge in one of them. And they'd take her in gladly, nobody would turn away free labour. She'd still be a thrall but at least not a sacrificial victim.
Not everyone was as kind as Alf.
He slumped into the chair by the dying fire. Perhaps not, but that wasn't his concern. She was no longer in his care and her future was now beyond his control.
His only concern need be Gerd's reaction to his failure. He'd sworn a blood oath to protect Frea until the funeral but now it had been broken. She could use this against him. The village already mistrusted him but with this black spot against his name, it might just convince his crew he wasn't the right man to lead them across the sea. Already today he'd lost the allegiance of Tue.
He signed. They'd have to set sail tomorrow morning. If he left with his crew for a few months raiding hopefully this would all blow over by the time they returned. True, he'd miss Alf's funeral but that was little when compared to his broken promise.
He closed his eyes. It was turning out to be a really crappy night.
Promise me. Protect her. No matter what.
Outside, a dog howled.
Esben tensed. Surely not. They wouldn't—
Somebody shouted, more dogs barked, a thundering of horses, then silence.
They were hunting her down! He gripped the chair arms so tightly his knuckles whitened. Stein must have told Tue about Frea's escape and the bastard had set his wolf hounds on her. She'd be mauled and killed.
Protect her.
He flung open the door. Tyra took off, the tip of her wing just brushing his check as she swooped outside.
To hell with everything. There was no way he was letting anyone harm Frea!