I mulled over this as I lay on the wide bench in the women’s room, unable to find sleep. The fur under me provided little padding and the hard wood pressed uncomfortably against my bones. For the vast majority of my life I had enjoyed the comfort of a bed and never regarded it as a privilege. But slaves weren’t that lucky; at least I was off the ground, in a heated room. I was grateful for it.

Again my stubborn mind presented me with images of Lord Einarr in various states of undress. I shook my head, willing the flow to stop. I tried focusing on my family, my village, Mildred and Svana. In vain. The pictures kept coming. What was wrong with me?

He was handsome, I had to give him that. Attractive even. I wondered how he got those scars. I had averted my gaze from his front until this day, as when his upper body was uncovered, so were his lower parts. I hadn’t lost all decency. God he was strong! No wonder I had found his chest so comfortable…

I nearly screamed in frustration and turned to my side, wincing when my still sore ribs hit the unyielding bench. The door of Lord Einarr’s room opened and Hrefna slipped out, ostentatiously straightening her dress. She noticed my glare and smirked at me, sashaying her way to the hall. I ignored her. I knew what she had been doing. Mildred had told me. And Lord Einarr wasn’t interested in Hrefna. Before.

I turned around, not liking the idea. What if he had changed his mind? Maybe he got second thoughts? She looked triumphant. Did she succeed in seducing him? My fists clenched as I considered the possibility. Nay he wouldn’t, wouldn’t he? I chastised myself for getting upset. Why did I care? She could have him, I didn’t want him. And he hated me.

My eyes filled with tears. He hated me. His smile earlier, he was mocking me. I had heard his laugh. He was making fun of me for ogling him. Which I wasn’t, of course. I was only... curious. That was it. I was curious. The patterns drawn by the water had attracted my gaze. Not him. Never him.

Rubbing my eyes, I pulled the blanket to my chin and was fast asleep.

The gruel was warm and bland, a sharp contrast to the slice of ginger I had just swallowed. I wolfed it down. I had little appetite these days, the residual nausea from my illness lingering longer than expected. Slave food was a far call from what I was used to. I had to scrap bits of dry meat from the bones and chew on the hardest parts of cawels (cabbage), neeps (turnips) and parsnips. Only when there was soup or stew did we eat as well as free men. Breakfast was often the sole real meal of my day.

My hands clenched on my stomach, which was already rebelling. I took deep breaths, waiting for the ginger to take effect. Eventually it settled and I went to wash my bowl.

I was drying my hands on my skirt when Svana caught my elbow.

“Are you ready? I want to go now, I’ll give you a tour of the boathouses while the men prepare the ships.”

I smiled at her enthusiasm. Svana was so bubbly that it was hard resisting her. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to arrange my curls. I winced as I did every time, as I noticed how short and unruly they were. Hrefna had purposely done a botched job, cutting each strand at a different length. They fell on my forehead and into my eyes, and I had to hold them in place with a strip of cloth. While I mourned my long mane, it didn’t affect me much. It would grow back. I had far more urgent concerns.

I grabbed my cloak and followed her on the path, offering my face to the bright sun. It wouldn’t last, there were dark clouds on the horizon. We climbed over a small hill, stopping at the summit. From there I could see the cove where the longships were beached, the men working on them, and two long buildings. One of them was smaller and sported a dragonhead at the prow. I didn’t recognize her; it must have been the ship used to transport my kinswomen. Further down the fjord was the mouth of a river, surrounded by marshlands. The road to the trading place, were the maiden had been sold. I imagined their fear as they awaited their fate. At least I had known whom I would belong to. I muttered a prayer for their well-being.

Svana pulled on my sleeve and we went on. She directed me towards the largest boathouse, babbling wildly as usual.

“We use it as a Mead Hall in the summer, when we have many visitors. It can accommodate a great number of us.”

I believed her. The long building resembled the upturned hull of a ship, placed atop three stone walls. Two huge gates opened where the fourth one should have stood, facing the sea. As we stepped through them Svana pointed at Lord Einarr’s boat.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she? She is the largest one on the island. The King of Norway gifted her to Einarr Godi’s father, in acknowledgment of his prowess in battle. Einarr Godi had the second one built in Denmark a few years back.”

I nodded, truly impressed. This was indeed a royal present. The price of such a ship was certainly unaffordable for most men, and owning two was a sign of great wealth. They were worth protecting from the harshness of the winter.

It was dark in the boathouse, and I waited until I could accommodate. I was surprised by the absence of central pillars. The weight of the high roof rested nearly entirely on the walls. It was unusual. There were a few alcoves on the sides, delimited by short, vertical beams. Extra goods were stored in them, aside coils of rope, jars of pine resin and planks.

The second building was smaller, with turf walls and roof, and not quite as impressive.

By the time we were out a small crowd had assembled. The ships were ready, masts down, oars in. Two hawsers were tied to each prow, manned by four lines of warriors. Oiled logs waited for the boats to slide on.

I hid in the shadows when Lord Einarr strode towards us and turned, facing the beach. Lady Disaelfr joined him. She raised her hands to the sky and chanted something. A prayer, I guessed, to their pagan gods. Then her son barked an order. The men grabbed the ropes and bent forward, intoning a rhythmic song.

As the crowd joined their voices to them I slipped out and snuck around them until I stood on the beach, protected from his sight by the bulk of the hull.

Svana was right, it was entertaining. The Vikings groaned in effort, hauling the heavy vessels up the slope, their feet sliding in the mud. Some had discarded their shirts, exposing their muscular upper bodies glistening with sweat. The onlookers encouraged them, shouting and clapping their hands.

Something caught my leg and I looked down to see a young boy, certainly no more than two summers. He grinned at me and went on, toddling towards the closest ship. I frowned, searching for his mother, but there was no one behind him. He must have escaped. Worried, I ran after him. He could easily drown so close to the water.

I had nearly reached him when I heard a sound like the crack of a whip, immediately followed by a scream. The boat jerked and skidded backwards, straight onto the little one. I acted on instinct. I dived forward, catching the child and rolling with him on the sand, away from the danger.

I sat up, heart racing, hands shaking. The boy stared at me and started to cry.

“What is wrong? Are you hurt?” As he didn’t answer I turned him around, checking him arms and legs and found no sign of wound. I pulled him in my lap in an attempt to calm him down.

A frantic woman ran towards us and tore the child from me, holding him possessively and screaming at me. His mother, most likely. I held my hands up, trying to make her understand that I had done nothing to him but she wouldn’t listen. She called a name and a burly man came running. I shrunk. He seemed furious. He glared at me and lifted his arm…

I closed my eyes, protecting my head with my forearms, and opened them slowly when nothing happened. There was an extra pair of legs in front of me. I glanced higher, dreading what I would find. Lord Einarr.

He stood facing my assailant, arms crossed on his chest.

“Ranveig, that’s enough. She saved your son, I witnessed it. You should be grateful. Faraldr, go back to your post.” His tone suffered no discussion. They left reluctantly, the woman giving me a dark look.

He bent towards me and helped me stand.

“Are you well Sunngifu? You are pale.”

I brushed my dress and nodded, staring at my feet.

“Aye, just shaken. It will pass, thank you, my Lord. What happened?”

“A rope broke, one of the men is slightly wounded. We replaced it. You should sit and rest.”

“Aye, my Lord,” I agreed, no meeting his gaze.

He sighed and returned to his task. I followed his advice and dropped on the closest rock. My legs wouldn’t carry me further.