When we retired in Lord Einarr’s room that evening, I did what was long overdue. I dropped to my knees and begged for his forgiveness. My words were sincere, to a point. While he deserved everything I had thrown at him that night, I felt deep regret for bringing shame to my father and endangering my kinsmen. I could have ruined them entirely.

He listened to my plea, although I doubt he believed me. His face revealed nothing of his thoughts. He motioned me to my feet, grabbed my shoulders and kissed me. The only words he said to me were to ensure that I wasn’t in pain.

For the following two weeks I was given no time to wallow in self-pity. I guessed that lady Disaelfr still resented me, as she made sure that I was never left unoccupied. From dawn to sunset I was kept busy.

We had a storm, and right after the fishermen caught a late school of herrings in their nets. For two days we were wrist deep in smelly fish guts, emptying the catch before hanging it to dry or smoke. My hands bled and stung from the salt. No bath could fully erase the stench, to lord Einarr’s despair. I laughed at his scrunched up nose each time my fingers came close to his face, which happened surprisingly often.

I helped gathering seaweed from the shore and eggs from nests on the cliffs’ face. I placed the eggs in a basket, taking them from the man who collected them from the rocks, swinging down a rope attached at the top.

I made curds from cow and goat milk and poured them in large vats, semi-buried in the pantry. We used the residual whey to preserve meat when the farmers began the slaughter of pigs and cows, in preparation for the winter. More vats were filled and sealed, and there was more to come. The smoking house was packed once more, this time with hams and strips of beef.

None of this was foreign to me, but until then I had never done it myself. I would give orders, and watch the servants do the work. Many a time I had goaded them for being slow and lazy. Now I understood how unfair I had been.

I rarely saw Svana and Mildred before the evening. Being free, they were given more noble tasks. I considered them my friends, but whenever they were around we spoke my language. Having to fend for myself did marvels to improve my Norse. Most of the household had no Anglisc, and I struggled to communicate. I pointed at things and they named them for me. It wasn’t too difficult to learn, as many words were close. I could soon master simple sentences and the other servants slowly warmed up to me.

Every night I went to bed tired and eager to sleep, but my captor always delayed it. I found him demanding, yet gentle. He ensured that I enjoyed myself as he did, and I got used to snuggling against him afterwards. Sometimes, when my eyelids managed to stay open a little longer, he would ask about my day or tell me stories of his land.

During one of those moments I asked him why he felt the need to humiliate me every evening, by keeping me kneeling at his feet. I was so mortified, lowered to the ground when the others slaves were either serving or waiting to clean the room.

He stared at me, visibly surprised by my question. Then he explained that he was showing to every man in the room that I was his, exclusively. He was warding them off me. We often had visitors, and they would expect to be given free use of the female thralls. My humble position set me apart.

I still didn’t like it, but knowing why made it easier to accept. In the following days I found it comfortable to support myself with my arm over his thigh. As the hours passed I leant my head onto it, listening to the music that often accompanied the meals. His hand would stroke my hair and he would smile at me. It became a routine and I caught myself smiling back.

Until I woke up one morning, my cheek against his chest. I gave a peck to his naked skin and he stirred, his arm tightening around my waist. I nestled deeper into him, my legs tangled with his. I didn’t want to get up, this was so pleasant…

The whole day, I beat myself up. What was I doing? He was my enemy, I was supposed to escape him, not cuddle up to him. My actions should be all for show. But they weren’t, not any more. I had to get away as soon as possible, before I lost myself completely. All I needed was a chance to run.

It came in the form of an Anglish trader, on his way back to his homeland. He had stopped at Lord Einarr’s house to collect fleeces and woolen items that were popular in England. Amongst them were shaggy coats, made of strangely weaved fabric mimicking lambskin. I wondered which Saxon would wear such clothing.

The man and his crew were offered hospitality, and would leave at dawn with the tide. From the women’s room where lady Disaelfr was teaching me tablet weaving, I overheard them. They were headed to Lundenburh.

While it was far from my home, it was in my country. From there I could navigate the Thames upriver and take the North road to Chester. It would be a long and dangerous trip, and I had neither escort nor money. Maybe I could convince the merchant to transport me there, against the promise of a reward from my father. We were from the same land. He should be amenable to my plea.

As my fingers worked the colored threads, I came up with a plan. I needed to gather food and water, and blankets to shield me from the cold of the nights. I would hide on board for a couple of days, until they were too far to turn back. Then I would reveal myself and convince them to help me.

My resolve waivered as I took my humble place at my master’s side later. I was tense and he must have felt it, for he looked at me a few times with concern. I pretended not to notice and he reported his attention to his guest. But his hand sneaked to the back of my neck and gently massaged the tight muscles. I closed my eyes, my body humming in delight. He knew my weak spots. Suddenly, leaving didn’t seem such a good idea.

The movement had caught the merchant’s eyes and he chuckled.

“A pretty thing you have here, my Lord. Is it new? I don’t recall seeing it at my last visit.”

I heard Lord Einarr’s laugh.

“She is from your land, her father gave her to me to avoid a feud. She has been mine for a month.”

“It sounds very responsive, eating in your hand, quite literally. Would you consider selling it? I have customers for young pleasure slaves.”

“Ask me this when you’ll be back next year. As for now, I’m quite happy with her.”

The trader nodded and changed the conversation. I was trembling with anger. I was aware that I could be sold if I didn’t give Lord Einarr a child. But only if my father didn’t buy me back. And here he was, already trading me off.

I excused myself, pretending to need the latrines. Once in the small entrance room I pulled the front door ajar and slipped outside. The guard paid me no attention. I was a house slave and I was going to the smoking house, during a feast. There was nothing unusual about it.

I reached the round stone house and picked a basket by the door. I quickly filled it with dry fish and meat, covering it with a cloth. I hid it behind a flat stone, close to the back door, and went back to the hall.

My captor asked me several times what was wrong that night. I tried to act as usual, but I was stiff and avoided his touch. I felt betrayed, he repulsed me. In the end he let me sleep and I turned my back to him. I heard him sigh, and I snarled. There was no need to pretend any more.

I got up at the first light of dawn and gulped down my bowl of gruel for breakfast. No one would look for me before long. Lord Einarr would bid farewell to his guests and the other servant would assume I had an early start. Then he was to leave and visit a few farms. They wouldn’t notice I was missing before the evening.

On my way to the back door I nearly hit Hrefna. She glared at me, and watched me intently pick up a bundle of blankets that were waiting for repairs.

“Where are you going with that?”

I turned on my heels, my mind working quickly on a plausible lie.

“Lady Disaelfr said they stink. I’m taking them to the stream to wash.”

She scowled at me. Either she didn’t understand my Norse, or she didn’t believe me. I shrugged and went out. It would be a while until she could ask the Lady about it.

I picked up the basket and walked leisurely to the fjord. The ship wasn’t guarded now that the sun was up. The beach was empty. I took off my shoes and tucked the hem of my dress in my belt, glancing around to ensure I wasn’t seen. I shivered when my feet entered the icy water. I had to climb from the back of the boat for the bulk of the hull to hide me.

I was up to my knees when I threw the basket in and pulled myself over the side. I crouched, searching for a safe place. The cargo area was packed with wool and seal fur. I pushed a few ballots around, creating a small space between them and the side planks. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it would do. I made a tent of my blankets and sat, waiting for the crew to board.