Season of the Sun (Viking Era 1)

“Stay away from me!”

He moved slowly now, assessing her calmly, and she drew away, knowing she would use the knife if he forced her to it. Then she heard Lotti crying softly, her voice slurred and terrified, and she looked down at the child. In that moment Magnus grabbed her arm and began to twist the knife from her hand.

She felt the pain roil through her arm and her shoulder, and she gasped with it and tried to jerk away, but it was no good. He had twice her strength and he was quite prepared to use it.

She raised her other hand, striking at his chest, at his face, but he merely continued twisting her right wrist until she moaned, falling to her knees. He kept her down, still twisting, until with a sob of defeat the knife slipped from her numbed fingers and clattered to the ground. Lotti cried out and ran to her. It was the child who stilled Magnus’ fury. He would have doubtless struck her, but he couldn’t now, not with the little girl sobbing and trying to help her sister.

He stood over her, breathing deeply to regain control. He held the beautiful knife loosely on his palm, saying, “I traded this knife for several quite exquisite soapstone bowls. It is to be a present for my younger brother, Jon. I would have been most displeased had you managed to escape with it. I would have had to buy horses and come after you. But you gave me time, Zarabeth, time to go back to Olav’s house and find a sobbing Toki with her husband. She said you had tried to kill her and she was demanding that Keith see the council and have you stoned, as befits a poisoning witch. But I told Keith that I would see to your punishment, and neither of them would ever have to fear you again. As you can imagine, that assurance did not please Toki. She wants your blood. She showed me the bruises on her throat where you had strangled her. She must have been most fond of Olav, for she has taken his murder sorely. And it is true, Zarabeth, I will see to your punishment. I have found you and you will go no farther. Now, get up, for I wish to return to the Sea Wind. I must decide what I am to do with you.”

Her wrist throbbed and burned. She caught her breath and looked up at him. “Lotti,” she said. “I won’t leave Lotti here.”

“You dare make demands of me? You dare toss your orders at my head? You are not my wife, you have nothing that binds me to you. What you are is my slave, nothing more.”

“I won’t leave Lotti,” she repeated slowly, her mouth dry with fear and pain.

“By Odin’s wounds, you beg for me to strike you!” Magnus realized he was yelling. He stopped himself, staring down at her, but in his mind he saw Toki’s hate-filled face. She would surely harm the child now. He looked at the little girl, terrified and silent, standing next to her kneeling sister, her small hand on Zarabeth’s shoulder. She looked up at him then, and he flinched at the fear on that small face. The child was innocent of any wrongdoing. He sighed, giving it up.

“Get up. It is time to return to my vessel. You have sorely tried me, Zarabeth, and wasted my time. As for Ragnar, I do believe his humiliation at a woman besting him could lead him to seek your death.”

“I don’t care.”

“Ah, you would, if I chose to give you to Ragnar for punishment.” He took pity on her then, for he had won and she was bowed, a pathetic scrap at his feet, defeated and crushed. He would not harm the child, so he ended it. “Come, the child goes with us.”

Zarabeth looked up at him, uncertain, disbelieving. “Do you swear it?”

Irritated, Magnus said

sharply, “I do not lie, not like you. I will not tell you again.”

He made no move toward her. Zarabeth got to her feet. She held out her arms to Lotti, but Magnus forestalled her. “You are tired and will hold me back. Tell the child she need not fear me, and I will carry her.”

Zarabeth leaned down and gently stroked Lotti’s soft hair from her brow, saying softly, “Listen, sweeting, you needn’t be afraid of Magnus. He is large, ’tis true, but he won’t hurt you. Nay, don’t pull away from me. I swear it to you. Let him carry you now, all right?”

Magnus said, impatient, “Can’t the child understand you? Must you speak to her as if she spoke another language?”

Zarabeth ignored him. Finally Lotti nodded, and Zarabeth turned to Magnus. “She will let you carry her. Please, Magnus, she has done nothing to harm you. Do not hurt her.”

“I am not a monster. I do not hurt children.”

“Don’t lie! I know what you Vikings do to anyone—even children—on your raids! You spit them on your swords, you fling them—”

“You will be silent now. I will not hurt her. Unlike you, Zarabeth, I do not lie.”

She sighed, getting hold of herself. She believed him. At least Lotti would be with her. She had won, in a sense, if by any stretch being a slave could be called winning.

“If you had escaped York, where would you have gone?” He sounded pleasant as he walked beside her, Lotti’s head against his right shoulder, only mildly interested.

“I don’t know. I thought perhaps to Wessex, to King Alfred’s court. I could have served some rich lady there, sewing perhaps.”

He snorted. “Your stupidity yet amazes me. You would not have survived a mile from York. There are outlaws, Zarabeth, and you are but a lone woman. Had you escaped, you would now likely be dead, raped until you bled your life away. But now you are safe again because you have a strong man to protect you. You will sew for me now, and do whatever tasks are assigned to you. You will learn quickly to obey. It will be good, for I grow tired of your ceaseless demands and complaints.”

She said nothing, merely looked straight ahead. They passed people who knew her, and she was aware that they were talking of her, but she paid them no heed. She saw familiar buildings, familiar patches of gardens. “I will miss York.”

“Aye,” Magnus said, his voice laced with sarcasm, “doubtless it is a town of noble inhabitants. Like its people, its beauty is also astounding. You can smell them as well as see them.” He waved toward a pile of refuse, whose odor was foul. “Listen, woman, these people would show you not a shred of kindness were it not for me protecting you.”

She sighed. “You are right, I doubt not, but I don’t really understand why no one believed me.”

“I do not wish to hear your protestations of innocence again. There is my vessel, hurry, for we sail as soon as our feet are on board. I have no further wish to remain here.”