Viking Tribute

Chapter 11: Day Out

In the morning, I woke alone. The room was pitch black, and I moved cautiously towards the beam of light coming from under the door. I cringed at the soreness between my legs, reminding me of my new status. No more a maiden, raped by a Viking, I could never be a wife in my world. I was now and forever a whore in my kinsmen’s eyes.

Pulling the wooden panel ajar I managed to locate and light the candle. I didn’t like what it revealed: there was blood on the sheet and on my thighs. Feeling dirty inside and out, I wrapped in a blanket, grabbed my clothes and stormed to the bath house, brushing off a startled Aidan.

There was no warm water waiting this time, but I didn’t care. Gritting my teeth to hold the tears, I washed repeatedly, scrubbing my skin from him until it was bright red. Once dressed, I returned to the longhouse, the blanket on my head shielding me from the pouring rain.

Aidan greeted me, politely forgiving my rude behavior. I apologized and sat in front of him, while he served me a big bowl of soup and bread.

“Take your time to eat, Jarl Einarr will stay here today, the weather is too bad. You will be able to rest and heal.”

“I am a slave, am I not supposed to work hard?” I asked, surprised.

“You are a bedslave, you will be given only light duties. Your owner won’t want you to have rough hands or be exhausted when with him. And you have nothing to do here, it is my task.”

I stared at him with sudden interest:

“How did you become a slave, Aidan?”

He averted his haze, fixing a spot on the wall:

“I was born the third son of a poor farmer, and his sixth child. When I reached my fifth year, my father gave me to a monastery as an oblate, an offering to God for the remission of his sins.  My life was good there. The monks taught me how to read and count, and treated me well. I didn’t enter the Holy Orders, but I remained there as a servant, until the Vikings attacked.

They slaughtered many brothers, pillaged the library and the church. It was chaos, there was so much blood… I gathered the servants and we fought, supporting the few guards we had. My pitchfork found its target once or twice, doing little damage through the chainmail. Then I received a blow to the head and lost consciousness. I woke up tied up and was dragged onto a longship with other survivors. Jarl Gilli bought me and here I am. It was ten years ago…”

I nodded respectfully.

“Is this Jarl Gilli’s house then?”

“Aye, I take care of it for him. He doesn’t live here all year, but visits regularly. This house is used to accommodate important guests. When he comes here, I am the cook,” he added proudly.

I smiled at him:

“I understand why, this soup is delicious. Is Jarl Einarr here often?”

“Aye, he stops in Barra on his way to and from his raids. He is great friends with my master. They have an agreement for the housing of his men when they come.”

With little efforts, I learned that the raiders were split between the houses of the small village and the Mead Hall for sleeping arrangements, and that the other girls were kept in the trading huts close to the beach.

I wondered if I could go and visit them. I must have been speaking my thoughts as Aidan answered:

“I can guide you later, if the rain stops.”

Nodding, I finished my bowl and handed it back to him. He placed it in a bucket and brought me my collar.

“Your master will not be pleased if you don’t wear it.”