The Language of Fire

Chapter Two: The Dogs

Asta was sitting in the corner eating her stew, making sure to keep her head down so as to avoid Hafgrim's notice. Signy was not eating with her tonight, it was her night to serve at the high table.

Asta happened to glance up and see Signy filling Hafgrim's horn. Hafgrim was laughing uproariously at something and Asta felt anger at the lack of respect he showed, making merry while his father lay ill.

Hafgrim turned and watched Signy pour the ale. He said something to his companion beside him, who leered in response. When Signy had finished pouring the ale Hafgrim pulled her roughly onto his lap. Asta watched in shock as Signy sat there meekly while Hafgrim's meaty hands wandered over her.

Anger rose in her like a fire. She made to rise from her seat but a hand on her arm stopped her.

'Don't.' Runa said quietly beside her. 'You'll only make things worse for her. You can't stop this.'

After a moment Asta sat down again. Runa was right, but that didn't stop the anger from burning like hot acid in her belly. She wanted to stride up to the high table and smash Hafgrim's smug face in.

Hafgrim didn't let Signy leave his lap the whole evening. Asta watched in helpless anger, her meal going cold in her lap. 

'Perhaps you should go to bed early,' Runa suggested eventually, not unkindly.

Asta pushed her bowl to the side. 'I'm going to go get Signy,' she said, and before Runa could protest she was walking up to the high table.

Hafgrim eyed her approach. 'What do you want?' He asked as she came to stand in front of him.

'Forgive me my lord but I need Signy's help to finish a task before everyone retires to bed. Come Signy,' She said, holding her hand out to her friend.

'She isn't done serving yet,' Hafgrim said dismissively, before turning away from her to his companion next to him.

Asta went around the table to stand beside them. She put her hand on Signy's arm. She could feel her friend trembling. The anger in her belly threatened to boil over, rising in her chest. She kept her tone civil with effort.

'Sorry my lord but it really is urgent, please let her come with me.'

Hagrim turned to her angrily. 'What could be so important that you must interrupt your master like this? Do you want a beating, thrall?'

Signy looked at her pleadingly, 'Asta...' she whispered.

But the heat in Asta had boiled over. She looked at Hafgrim steadily. 'You're not the master yet,' she said.

Hafrgim's face twisted in fury. 'How dare you! Skarde, Gorm, take this thrall and tie her outside for the night with the dogs so that she learns her place.'

Hafgrim's friends rose from their seats. Asta was tall and strong but she was no match for two norsemen in their prime. Together they grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the longhouse.

They took her to the outyard where the freehold's guard dogs lived and attached a chain to her slave collar, tying her to a stake along with the dogs.

Asta sat on the cold dirt while the dogs eyed her curiously. Hot tears of fury streamed down her face.

What made things worse was that she knew she was wrong. Now that the fire in her belly was dying down again she knew that she shouldn't have confronted Hafgrim. She had made things worse for Signy, not better. Hafgrim would likely treat Signy even worse now just to spite Asta.

After a while the tears stopped. At first she tried to sleep on the ground outside, not wanting to try to squeeze into the dogs' fetid little hut, but eventually she gave up. The frost was creeping whitely across the ground and if she stayed outside she might die from the cold. She squeezed through the small opening to the hut and wriggled her large frame in among the hounds. It smelt awful, never mind the humiliation of sleeping there, but the warmth from their bodies was welcome, and enough that she could eventually fall asleep.