As soon as I could walk, I was put to work. As I was still weak, Lady Disaelfr sent me to take care of the wool. A lowly slave couldn’t be given the noble tasks of spinning and weaving. Instead I got to wash greasy fleece with soapwort, a plant that did wonders in removing just enough suint to keep the wool waterproof. I had to chop the leaves and roots and boil them in a kettle. Then I filtered and poured the resulting fluid in a tub set along the small stream, below the pool. I added more water and stirred a fleece in it with a stick, before rinsing it in the stream. It wasn’t too tiring and I could sit on a stone for most of it. These were the last of the stock and it took me only a few days to clean them all.

The weather was holding and by the time I was done washing, most of the fleece had dried. I was led into a small stone house similar to the one I had been locked into, and given a couple of strange instruments. They resembled a rake, flat with many teeth and short handles. I stared at them, wondering what I was to make of them. The servant who had brought me there, a tall, middle-aged woman, threw me an annoyed look.

“I can see why Einarr Godi used you as a bedslave. You are not good for anything else. Give me these combs, I’ll show you.”

I silently handed the devices to her, her words weighing on my shoulders. I had never watched this part of wool processing, as it generated a lot of dust. It was always done in a closed, dedicated room, and anyone willing to keep their clothing and skin clean stayed away from it.

She sat on the only stool and peeled small bunches of wool that she hooked on the first comb. Holding it with one hand, she pulled the fibers with the second one until they were all on it. She switched the combs and repeated her actions, over and over, until there were two bundles left on the teeth. She slid the smaller one off the comb, giving it to me.

“This, you throw, it is the waste.”

The wool in it was knotted, irregular. It would make a terrible thread. I nodded my understanding.

She pulled on the remaining flock, gently stretching it until it came off the teeth. Wrapping the soft ribbon around her hand, she twisted it into a fluffy nest, ready for spinning.

It seemed easy enough. I took the combs confidently and imitated her. It wasn’t as simple as I thought. I got the teeth stuck a few times and broke the threads while stretching them. She corrected me until I got the hang of it. Satisfied that I wouldn’t destroy the yarn, she left me on my own.

In normal circumstances, there would have been several others with me, talking and laughing, making the repetitive task less tedious. But we were closing on the winter. Most of the fleece had been processed during the summer, and what was left wasn’t a priority. It could easily be done during the dark months. All the other slaves were out, harvesting berries and herbs, preserving meat and fish, or herding the sheep back from their highland pastures. I was the useless one, too weak to help.

There was a chill in the air, yet it wasn’t too cold. I opened the door and sat in the light, facing outside. I felt less lonely when I could see people scurrying around. My hands soon were able to work on their own, and my mind began to wander. I imagined my return home, the joy on my father’s face, my brothers’ warm welcome. I pictured the feast we would share, how we would talk about what happened to us during our separation. I might have another niece or nephew. The same reason that had made it hard for me to find a husband had made it easy for my brothers to find a wife. They had their picks of beautiful and well educated ladies, with a dowry to match. I would hear news of the village, Ailish would have given birth. Her husband wanted a boy and she wished for a girl. I used to smile at her assurance; she was so certain to be right.

But what would I tell them when my turn would come? I have been enslaved, raped and whipped, and managed to displease my owner so much that he sold me back? What would that say about me? I wasn’t deemed good enough to be a slave, let alone a wife.

I was basking in my sorrows when Svana poked me in the arm.

“I’ve been standing there for a while and you didn’t acknowledge me. How are you Sunngifu?”

I stared blankly at her for a while, before answering: “As good as I could be, I suppose. How are you Svana? I haven’t seen much of you recently…” It sounded like an accusation, but I was slightly irked that she hadn’t visited me when I was bed ridden. She was supposed to be my friend. She should be on my side.

Svana blushed a little: “I’m sorry Sunngifu, lady Disaelfr forbade me to see you. She was worried that I would catch your illness.”

“And why would you obey her? You are free, you can go as you please.” I was unfair and I knew it, but lady Disaelfr made no mystery of her contempt for me. By obeying her, Svana appeared to share her opinion and it hurt me.

“I am her charge, Sunngifu. She agreed to foster me and teach me how to run a household as a favor to my father, who fought with her late husband. It’s a great honor; lady Disaelfr manners and hospitality are famous in our land. I cannot affront her without shaming my family.” Her tone was patient, as if she was reasoning a child.

“But she hates me…”I stopped, feeling silly. My answer sounded a lot like whining.

“You insulted her son and tried to escape. She is protective of her family. His fondness for you makes Einarr Godi appear weak. She considers you a threat for him, and a bad example for me.”

I shook my head. This made no sense. “Lord Einarr isn’t fond of me. He cannot harm me because he gave his oath to my father, that’s all. She should be aware of it! He would happily get rid of me given the chance.”

Svana looked at me, disbelief written on her face. “So you say. He sure doesn’t behave like it.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I’m not here to discuss that. Tomorrow the ships will be brought to the boathouses. I’ll come and get you, it’s fun to watch. We will celebrate in the evening.”

I frowned. “Will I be allowed to go? I have to comb all these…” I waved at the room. I could never finish in one day.

“We will all go. You can’t stay here alone. Who knows what you would do, we might have nothing to come back to!” she said dramatically.

I giggled and chased her away. “I’ll be there. Now shoo, I have work.”

As Svan went, a group of men strode down the path, exchanging pleasantries with her as she passed by. They wore full battle gear and I wondered if they were going on a raiding party. I had guessed wrong, as they stopped in the open space where the whipping post stood. I squirmed uncomfortably as a painful memory burnt my back. But they had no prisoner this time. They adopted a fighting stance and I released my breath. They were training.

Fascinated, I watched them attack and block, feint and parry, axes, spears and swords bouncing against shields. The blows resonated in the cool air, punctuated with grunts and war cries. My eyes were drawn to a tall warrior, who seemed to be dancing around a mountain of a man. He stroke fast as lighting and withdrew, keeping out of reach of his opponent’s powerful arms. While doing this he faced me, and I recognized Lord Einarr.

My breath caught in my chest and I stared anxiously as the big man’s axe hit my owner’s shied, deflecting it. The brute drove his own shield in the opening, catching Lord Einarr in the chest. He stumbled backwards and I stood, dropping the combs. Someone screamed and it took me a while to realize it was me. I stared in anguish as he evaded the next blow and jumped behind his enemy, hitting him just below his helmet with the flat of his sword.

The man conceded the fight and they laughed, patting each other’s shoulder.

I sat, my heart beating wildly. I felt stupid; of course they wouldn’t have harmed themselves. It was training.

I picked up my tools and resumed my work, while the last warriors finished their match. One by one they dropped their weapons, leaving them in piles against the closest wall. Helmets, chain-mails and padded tunics followed, and they walked to the beach where they stripped and plunged into the icy waters. I shivered at the thought; just going in up to my knees had been an ordeal.

They stayed in longer than I could imagine, swimming and splashing like children. Then they returned, Lord Einarr leading them. He was naked down to his breeches, his shirt dangling from his hand. Water dripped from his hair, gliding in small rivulets down his chest. My gaze followed the glistening ribbons, lingering on his strong muscles, counting his scars. When they reached his belt I looked up and my eyes met his. He had seen me!

Mortified, I watched his lips stretch into a knowing smile. My cheeks heated and I pretended to focus on my hands while he laughed and walked away.