Viking Tribute

Chapter 2: Fateful Banquet

It was early after noon when I made my way to my father's Hall. The hour was unusual for a feast, but the Viking chief had refused to stay overnight. He wanted to leave with the evening tide, as soon as he replenished his stocks of freshwater and food. That gave even less time for my father to plead his cause.

I was clothed in my finery, a light silk and linen smock and a short sleeved silk dress. The light green fabric shimmered in the light, enhanced by gold embroideries. Free from the braid, as suited for a maiden, my hair reached below my waist, under a thin veil and a gold circlet. Berry juice reddened my lips and cheeks, and I had settled for only one necklace of small golden beads. I needed to honor him, not display wealth.

At the door of the Hall, I hesitated. I had never seen that man, having been cautiously kept away on his previous visits. What if he was a monster? Briefly, I pictured him as an ogre, repulsive and terrifying. I shook my head, pushing those childish thoughts away. He was just another male, of a more dangerous kind. I wouldn't show fear.

Still, I was nervous when I walked in, and I hid for a few instants in the shadows beside the door. The long and dark room was lit by torches, their flickering light reflecting on the gold of the vessels and the glasses on the tables. They were arranged as a U around the central hearth, the opening in the roof above allowing a narrow beam of sunlight in. Beautiful tapestries hung on the walls, some the work of my mother. They might not impress him though; Norse women were reputed for their extraordinary skills with a loom. Yet to me they were invaluable, being all I had left of her.

I sighed in relief as I took in the fine tablecloth and the crushed herbs on the earth floor. My instructions had been correctly followed. I nodded at the servants; they had noticed my presence and stared at me expectantly.

Despite its vast dimensions, the room was crowded. Well-dressed men stood around, ready to sit on the benches, half of them I didn't recognize. They had to be his.

I located my brothers, at the high end of the table. Three foreigners were on the opposite side of it, and in the middle stood my father with another stranger: him.

I narrowed my gaze on the tall Norseman, shocked that he chose to wear his chainmail at a feast. It was a sign of defiance and an insult to my people, suggesting that we might ignore the laws of hospitality. The man must have had many enemies.

He wasn't as horrible as I thought, proving that looks can be deceptive. I could even say he was handsome, in a cold and cruel way. His hair was fair, discolored by salt and sun, and his face was tanned. He had clear eyes, though I couldn't distinguish their color. And of course, he was strong, they all were. Intense training and pulling on oars would result in those bulky frames.

My eyes went back to his face and I flinched when they met his. He had noticed me. I held his gaze long enough, while he leant towards my father, talking to him. My father beckoned me forward as they took their seats.

Mustering all my courage, I lifted my chin and walked towards them. I only had to smile, toast him and serve him a drink. Then I could take my leave, Saxon customs didn't allow ladies to sit with the men.

I stood tall in front of them, while the servants fetched the mead.

"Lord Einarr, this is my daughter, Lady Sunngifu."

I bowed and he nodded.

"Sunngifu, gift of the Sun... A most-beautiful name, suited for the lady wearing it."

He smiled and I thanked him stiffly. I didn't like the sound of my name, my mother chose it because I was born with a few strands of flame red hair sticking up on top of my head.

Embarrassed, I busied myself with the preparation of the toast, and he soon ignored me.

"So," he told my father, "How do you propose to pay me if not in silver?"

"What would you accept as payment?"

The Viking seemed to consider his options. I stole a glance and shivered at the nasty grin on his face.

"I cannot accept cattle as I wouldn't be able to transport it. Slaves would do, pretty young maidens can reach a fair price at the market. We have men aplenty. Let's say, fifteen of them."

I gasped at this, and my hands began to shake. We didn't have any maidens amongst our slaves, most of them were men captured in battles. The few females were no more in their prime.

If my father was shocked, he hid it well. Instead of protesting, he haggled. Then I understood, and my stomach clenched. The monster would take free women.

"Five, a beautiful maid slave can fetch up to three pounds of silver."

He laughed.

"Ten, she would have to be strikingly beautiful to reach that high."

"Seven..."

I focused on my task, closing my mind to the disgusting bargain. I poured the mead slowly into the large ceremonial horn, careful not to spill it. I had just placed the jug back on the table when I heard:

"Six, if you throw in a wanton young widow, I'd be surprised if there isn't one around. My men could use some entertainment."

I paled at this, and my eyes widened picturing the horrors awaiting the poor girl. There was one indeed, Magge, the widow of a poor freeman. He was a farmhand, and she was left childless and without resources at his death. She had been reduced to accept men in her bed against food, or she would have starved.

The Viking noticed my reaction and smiled at me.

"So, there is one. Good. And your daughter will be one of them; she will be my personal reward for my leniency towards you."

His face hardened.

"I could have chosen to slaughter your people and burn your village, and I will if you fail me again."

It took me a few instants to react, such was the shock at his words. And then, my temper got the better of me. Without a thought, I threw the content of the horn at him.

"I will never be yours, you bastard!"

Suddenly, the room was silent. All eyes were on me. I stared blankly at my father, a horrified expression on his face.

"Sunngifu, leave, now!"

His voice was flat and cold.

I turned and ran to my room, not concerned with my countenance anymore. I slumped on my bed, head in my hands. What had I done?