Viking Tribute

Chapter 31: part two

This is the end of the previous chapter. Enjoy!

Two weeks of feasting had brought me to the brink of exhaustion. I went to bed very late and had to get up very early to help with the preparation of the next banquet, which I wouldn't get to enjoy. On Geol day I managed to sneak into one of the hay barns and have a short nap. I think I would have collapsed otherwise.

My belly seemed to grow bigger by the day and I had taken to wear an old satchel tied to my belt. The shape of it hid my increasing bulkiness. Before long it wouldn't be enough. Someone would notice my state and I would have a hard time to explain my silence. I knew I should go to Lord Einarr and put my fate in his hands. I simply couldn't muster the strength to face him.

The night came too soon, busy as I was; I was late getting into the house and my favorite spot had been taken. I had to settle for the corner next to the entrance, where I was facing Lord Einarr. This was the last evening of the festival, mead and ale were flowing. The music was loud, trying to overpower the sound of multiple voices. Soon, my head was pounding.

My fingers massaged my temples, without success. I pressed my hands onto my ears and shot a desperate glance at Lord Einarr, who was talking to the scop. Would he not ask the man to sing?

Hrefna was at her usual place, fussing around her master. She must have done something to her breasts, as they were close to break through the rough fabric of her dress. Many men had their eyes glued on them, and Lord Einarr himself peeked a few times. She noticed and was grinning. I wondered what had just gone through her wicked mind. Was she with child as well? My chest tightened at the thought. He might not want my baby if he had hers. All he wished for was an heir after all. Which womb carried it was unimportant.

I watched, disgusted, as she pretended to trip and landed in Lord Einarr's lap. How she apologized in a childish, high pitched voice. How he laughed in return, bellowing to the crowd: "How could any man be angry when a pretty slave falls into his arms?" How she lowered her head in feigned embarrassment while they roared in mirth. From my place, I could see her smug smile. She had planned this. She was laying her claim on him.

When she eventually got up he slapped her bottom playfully, sending her on her way, and I felt sick. I jumped to my feet as if the bench was on fire and stumbled towards the door. I needed air and peace to collect my thoughts.

As I reached out to grab a cloak I caught a glimpse of Lord Einarr's face. He was frowning, looking straight at me. Anger seized me. How dared he? I had kept as far away from him as I could for months and he was glaring at me for being within sight a mere instant? I picked a lantern, turned my back at him and stormed out.

There was a fresh coat of snow on the ground. I stepped carefully, holding the lantern high. The sky was pitch black, with a few stars playing hide and seek around the clouds. I blessed Mildred for my warm socks and fur lined boots. She had given them to me a few days back. At first I had tried to refuse the expensive present but she insisted, saying that the fur for the shoes was given to her. While I wondered who would dispose so lightly of soft rabbit skin, I eventually accepted, swearing internally to find a way to thank her in return. And now, with fresh snow right up to my ankles, I was glad I did.

It was surprisingly quiet out of the house. The thick walls muffled the sound of the ruckus inside. I inhaled deeply in the cool air, savoring the salty scent of the fjord. My feet moved forward on their own, finding the path towards the cliffs.

As far as I remember, I have always loved to watch the sea. During my rebellious childhood, the servants would find me on top of the rampart whenever I was upset, seeking solace in the moving waters. And today was no different.