Despite the salve, my back was burning when I knelt beside my tormentor that evening. I wore a thin linen smock under my rough gown, but it could as well be filled with pumice, for it was rubbing me raw. The floor was hard and cold under my knees. I wiggled restlessly, trying to ease my discomfort. Aside from feeding me, Lord Einarr paid me little attention. The men chatted and laughed, becoming more and more boisterous as the time passed and ale and mead flowed.

When the women retired, I was pulled to stand stiffly on my sore and numb legs. I expected to be drawn into my owner’s lap once more, but this time he made me straddle him. As I hesitated he glared at me. I reluctantly took the humiliating posture, my dress riding up to my knees in a shameful display. I could see nothing of the room, my nose stuck in the silk of his tunic.

Behind me I heard laughs and whistles, calls and jokes, to which he answered pleasantly. They were mocking me, the Anglish lady debased to a meek slave whore. My whole body stiffened, my hands clenched in anger. He felt it. His fingers caressed my arms, carefully avoiding the beaten areas.

“Why so tense, little dreki? Am I hurting you?” he whispered in concern.

“I am their laughing stock! Why did you place me like this?”

“You are too sore to sit otherwise, and I quite enjoy this position. And they are mocking ME, for my obvious weakness. They say you have enslaved me, bewitched me even. Anyone who dared treating me as you did would die slowly under my knutr, their flesh peeled to the bones. With you I used the leather scourge I bought from a Christian trader; he said it caused pain without damage. I couldn’t bring myself to harm you.”

I glanced at him. He was smiling. Did he expect me to be grateful?

“But you had no qualms causing me pain,” I retorted, squirming to relieve my discomfort.

“You deserved it. You made me look like a fool. I had to face my men and yours, drenched in mead, after you left the hall. You stomped on my honor. If you do it again nothing will save you. And I suggest you cease moving like this…”

I wondered what he meant, until I felt it. He was definitely enjoying my presence. I slid back as far as I could without falling. He chuckled.

“Do not fret, I will not act on it. You will sleep alone tonight. Try to rest, for you will resume your duties on the morrow.”

I twisted and turned on the straw mattress all night. The narrow pallet was hard and lumpy, and I fell on the floor a few times. I was cold despite the blankets, and could find no good position. By morning, I nearly missed my captor’s soft bed and warm body.

I got up sore all over. Every move pulled on my raw skin, and I walked like a crone. I wasn’t showed much sympathy. Within the household, the general opinion was that Lord Einarr had been far too kind to me, considering the enormity of the offense. All day I spun and weaved in a corner of the women’s room. I wasn’t included in the conversations around me. Some of them had Anglisc, but they spoke in Norse, ignoring me. If I were to survive here, I would have to learn the language, and fast. My usual translators, Svana and Mildred, were nowhere to be seen.

When the sun went down I followed the others towards the pool. I nearly fell on the way, on what I thought was a protruding root. But when I turned there was nothing. Only that woman, Hrefna was her name, smirking at me. It was clear that she had tripped me. I went to confront her, until I realized it was useless. She wouldn’t understand me. I would have to explain her that I had no will to steal her master. In fact, I would be more than glad to return him to her.

I held her stare a short moment, trying to convey my feelings, then shrugged and walked away.

I found Svana and Mildred already bathing. I greeted them happily and joined them at a snail’s pace, hissing and grunting as the water lapped at my wounds. They watched me, caught between concern and amusement. I must have been a sight.

Mildred examined my back and nodded her approval. It was healing well.

“Are you happy Sunngifu? Einarr Godi will take you back into his room tonight!” Svana bellowed, likely to taunt Hrefna. I guessed they didn’t get along well.

Mildred stifled a laugh. I rolled my eyes. I wouldn’t answer, but it reminded me of a detail I needed to clarify.

“Why do you call him Einarr Godi rather than Lord or Jarl Einarr?” It was time to start learning their customs, and I was curious.

Svana glanced at Mildred, asking for a permission that was swiftly granted.

“We have no king here, and therefore no lords. We have chieftains instead, we call them godar or godi. They convene yearly at the Althing, the assembly that makes laws and renders justice. Some, such as Einarr Godi, are also judges. They meet in the spring in four courts, to settle feuds and punish crimes.” She seemed proud of her knowledge.

I was puzzled. No king? How did they enforce the law? However, it didn’t answer my question.

“But I heard your chieftain addressed as lord and jarl?”

Svana wiggled her eyebrows in mischief.

“Because he is both, just not here. He is a grandson of King Harald Fairhair of Norway. His father settled here. He had been a supporter of King Erik Bloodaxe and he disapproved of the conversion of his other brother, King Haakon, to Christianity. Lady Disaelfr is also of noble birth and from their ancestral land. Both he and his father have served the Kings of Norway after the death of King Haakon, and their titles have been confirmed.”

I frowned. So he was of royal blood. Did he tell that to my father? It would have been enough to gain his approval. How could he resist the idea of his daughter marrying above her station?

“Is he still serving them?”

She shook her head, smiling.

“Nay, not since King Harald Bluetooth converted as well. Einarr Godi says he wouldn’t trust the oath of someone who can’t swear by our gods.”

“I see.”

I had a lot to mull over. The extent of my crime hit me. Had I stained the honor of an aetheling, my father would have been condemned to pay a fine of forty five thousand pence, more than ninety pounds of silver! Such was the wergild of a prince defined by our law. No wonder they thought that my punishment was lenient. In order to find such an amount, all the village’s inhabitants would have to be sold, or most of our lands. My freedom was a small price in comparison, and my flailing a tap on the wrist.

But he was an enemy of my people. Surely, this should be taken into account. He was no lord in my land.