The Viking's Captive(32)

Duna hesitated, then, “I am his thrall, not his wife.”

“I understand.” She glanced at Halvor. “And my feet have been on this earth long enough to understand men. I had five sons, you know.”

“You did? Where are they now?”

“Now I only have four.” She glanced away and her smile slipped, but after a sip of her drink she retrieved it. “They live with wives and children in the hills to the south of here. There they found a good inlet port to trade; sometimes they make the journey and bring me gifts.”

“That’s kind of them.”

“Aye.” She reached into the pocket of her red dress. “This silk ribbon came from Igor.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Feel it.”

Duna took the length of white ribbon. She hadn’t felt such a thing before; it was soft like fur, but smooth as water on her fingertips, and so light she barely knew she was holding anything. “Thank you.” She passed it back.

“It would be pretty against your black hair,” Nadir said. “May I touch it?”

“My hair?”

“Yes, I have never met anyone with such a dark color.”

“Well, yes, if you want.” Duna sat still while Nadir curled a lock of her long hair around her finger.

Halvor paused in his conversation with Asmund and watched Nadir.

Duna felt a little embarrassed by the scrutiny.

When Nadir dropped the lock and leaned away, Halvor cleared his throat. “We should leave soon, Duna.”

“The rooster is ready for us?” she asked.

“Aye, Asmund bought it yesterday from the reverend who lives up yonder on the river’s edge.”

“Reverend?” Duna was surprised; she’d never heard of a Viking practicing Christianity.

“So he says,” Nadir shrugged. “He spent time in the land of Normandy, came back talking of one God and his son and all of the saints. Said he was now a reverend.”

“He did?” Duna had a lovely warm feeling rush through her. “He is?” That stopped her from feeling so alone. Perhaps this man would be of help to her.

“Why is that so exciting?” Halvor stood and pulled out a coin from his pocket.

“Because he is speaking of my God, of my belief.”

Nadir nodded. “I see.”

“It’s not the belief of this land, slave, here we have put our destiny in the hands of Thor and Odin.” Halvor placed the coin on the table. “Please pass this on to the reverend, and thank him for the rooster.”

Asmund appeared a little confused; he hadn’t understood a word of what Halvor has said to him.

Nadir translated.

Halvor chuckled and shook his head. “Thank you, Nadir. I’ve become used to the company of Celts, my tongue slips into what was an unfamiliar dialect with such ease now.”

“It’s good for us to speak both,” Nadir said. “That’s why the reverend taught me.” She leaned a little closer to Duna. “Though you have a kind of music to your words, Duna, why is that?”

“It’s the way of her people,” Halvor said. “The dialect comes with many nuances and accents.” He held out his hand. “Come hither, slave, it’s time to go back to the longhouse.”

She stood, placing her fingers in his palm. For a moment she paused and stared at his hand, remembering how it had slapped against her rump and the heat and pain it had delivered. Yet today, as each day since, he was gentle and kind with her, as if the punishment had never happened.

‘And when it’s over, it’s over, we are on a clean slate. You will have learned your lesson and I will have forgiven you.’

She remembered his words, and appreciated that he’d stuck to them. She also hoped she wouldn’t sully her slate again for some time.

After securing the rooster in a small wicker cage, Halvor lifted her onto the wagon.

“Goodbye, Halvor.” Nadir drew him into a quick hug. “I’m pleased you’ve returned safely, after the promise I made your mother you’re like another son to me.”

Halvor held her small hands in his. “I have no urge to go traveling the seas anytime soon, Nadir.”

“I’m sure you haven’t. Your last venture was fruitful, your thrall is quite a catch.” Nadir placed her hand on his cheek. “Now go, be happy, and don’t be a stranger, come and see us soon, both of you.” She raised her hand. “Goodbye, Duna, I enjoyed meeting you.”





Chapter Twelve


Ivan was on a go-slow, but Halvor didn’t mind. The sun was warm on his shoulders and the landscape a feast for his eyes after months at sea.

Duna was talking about the reverend, and how she’d like to meet him, to discuss her God with him.

Halvor had only met the man once, and he’d seemed nice enough. Perhaps if his slave was well behaved it could be a treat for her in the future.

“Oh, look, what’s that?” Duna pointed to the right.

Halvor pulled the wagon to a halt.

Standing against a copse of tall elm trees was a female elk with her calf. She was a huge beast with a stunning earthy brown coat that glistened in the sun, and a large curved nose. She was chewing, though her attention was firmly on them.

The calf nudged at her belly, seeking milk.