One young man nudged another. “Look what Raktor has thrown away, is that not the woman who posed as Mylan’s bride?”
“Aye, that is the slut.” Clearing his throat so he could spit on her, the man realized just in time that their quarters were too confined for such a display not to splatter his friends as well, and he had to swallow rather than carry out his insulting gesture.
Celiese could not see if the guard had remained outside the door but dropped her voice to a whisper in case he might be listening. “I am Mylan’s wife, truly I am. Why else would Raktor have decided to sell me too? He believes Mylan to be deadâ??but he is alive, waiting now to set us all free.”
Her words were met with loud jeers and rude insults from the prisoners, for none thought her words worth hearing. She counted quickly, there were twenty-six men but only three other women, pretty young girls who were doubtless slaves as she had been. “Will none of you help me? If we work together we can get free and overpower the guards when next they come!”
She pleaded with them just as she had argued with her husband, exhorting them to attempt an escape she was certain would succeed if they but worked to help each other. Unlike Mylan, this surly group would not listen to her plan. Every face turned away with a disgusted sneer, and she was left with no hope of ever seeing her dear husband again.
When the guards next returned they were heavily armed, ruffians who bullied the captives as they led them to the docks, where they divided them into two groups. From what Celiese could discern the other group were all warriors, Mylan’s kin who had come to attend the wedding, while she was pushed toward the captured slaves. In addition to the three women, there were seven men, two barely out of their teens, obviously fieldhands who had somehow been caught during the fighting. She doubted they would be able to raise any sort of resistance that would enable them to escape.
She looked back toward the house, praying Mylan would see her and understand what had happened, but it was nearly dusk, the visibility poor, and she saw no sign he might be observing their departure. Shoved into one of the Dragon’s sister ships, a smaller but no less sleek vessel named the Elk of the Sea, she was left huddled with the three other girls to endure a miserable journey that seemed to have no end. The prisoners had all been fed before she had joined them, and she was given nothing to eat when she asked the guards for food. They only laughed at her and threatened to beat her senseless unless she were still.
Silenced, Celiese could barely control her temper, for she knew Mylan would rescue his kinsman somehow, but would any of those hostile men tell him where she had been taken? If she were sold more than once would he ever be able to find her? More frightening still, would he even want to try? By the time she finally fell into an exhausted sleep she no longer cared what dreadful fate awaited her, for if she had lost Mylan the best part of her life was already over.
*
Kaupang was a heavily trafficked commercial port, the center of Viking trade, and by the time Raktor’s ship reached the city Celiese had confirmed her worst fears. None of Mylan’s family was on board. The people who had been sent to be sold had all been slaves in Aldred’s home, household servants and farmhands caught up in the net thrown out the night of the wedding. She had no hope anyone would come to rescue them now, for she overheard one of the guards saying all of Aldred’s kin had been taken only a short distance by ship and then marched inland to be held for ransom.
By the time Mylan had secured their release her trail would be impossible to follow. Her three female companions cried pitifully at the thought of being separated after several years of friendship, but they did no more than spit upon her as they left the ship. The sorry group was marched to the slave market where the slave master examined them thoroughly as if they were prize horses about to be traded for untold wealth rather than a bedraggled group of unfortunate servants who could be expected to bring little in the way of profit. Celiese’s once beautiful silk gown was no more than rags, her superb figure now far too thin, but the sharp-eyed man stopped before her, shocked by her defiant stare.
“I am the wife of the Dane, Mylan, eldest son of Aldred Vandahl. If you but send him a message that I am here he will come for me and pay you any price for my safe return.” She had no hope that that were true, but any tactic that would stall her sale at a public auction was worth a try. “He will buy all of us at twice what others would pay. You must send for him at once.”
The wiry old man raked his fingertip down Celiese’s sunburned cheek, and then tore off the remnants of her wedding dress with one swift tug so he could look at her more closely. He walked around her slowly, eyeing her pale skin with disgust before he jabbed his bony fingers into her bruised side. “I have heard of the man, but how could Mylan’s wife have come to such a sorry state?”
“I was kidnapped and beaten. If you will let my husband know where I might be found, he will reward you well, for he loves me dearly.” She looked the man straight in the eye and made no effort to hide her nakedness, but her hopes for rescue were dashed when the three girls with her began to call her foul names, scoffed at her story, and said such vile things about her that the slave master gave her a rude shove and tossed her back her ragged dress.
“I will not trouble Mylan about you, for I know him to be a serious man who would not be amused by such a ridiculous tale.” Surveying the lot of them he exclaimed sadly, “You are as poor a group of slaves as I have ever been forced to sell, but perhaps my wife can scrub you up so you will bring a fair price.” He gestured toward a billowy figure in the corner and she came forward to offer her opinions, which were no better than his.
“Sell them tomorrow with the others we have gathered. They are scrawny enough as it is and I do
not wish to feed them until they grow fat.” The hag sucked what few teeth she had remaining in her head and turned away, leading the group into the rude shelter that served as the quarters for the slaves being held for sale.
Celiese nearly fell asleep in the steaming tub, the warm water bringing a relaxing comfort she had almost forgotten, but before she could enjoy more than a few seconds’ pleasure the nasty old woman began to scrub her hair with a coarse-bristled brush. She cried out in pain and pleaded with her to stop, but that did not deter the unsympathetic creature from using her most diligent efforts to wash her clean. The tunic she was given was much too short, but Celiese was dreadfully afraid women were displayed nude before buyers and that worry kept her from eating any of the meager meal they were served for supper. Her female companions were varied, all as unhappy as she, but none spoke her native tongue nor appeared friendly, and the three girls from Aldred’s home continued their spiteful insults for half the night, complaining to everyone how she had brought ruin upon their home.
At dawn Celiese vowed to endure whatever public humiliation she had to suffer with every bit of dignity she could gather. In spite of the slave master’s unkind words he apparently thought her worth a handsome price and kept her back until all the others had been sold. The sun was high overhead when she was brought out, and as she had feared she was quickly stripped naked, but she reminded herself as she always did that her blood was as fine as that of a princess and her appearance should be regal as well.
She held her head proudly and scanned the crowd with a defiant stare, silently insisting the assembled group respect her. Her fiery emerald gaze had the same effect that day as it had had on the Torgvalds, and more than one man turned away, knowing he lacked both the skill and strength to tame such a vibrant beauty.
When a man standing just to her left spoke up she turned, startled by something in his voice. He was tall and well built, and his amber eyes could belong to only one family. Celiese whispered quickly while his attention was focused upon her face, “I am your brother Mylan’s wife! Do not let one of the others buy me!”
The handsome young man gasped in astonishment, then called to the auctioneer, “Who is this woman?”
The old man smiled broadly, delighted to see the well-dressed and obviously wealthy man display such interest in the striking blonde. “What does her name matter? You may call her whatever you choose. She was a slave in the house of Raktor, that he wants her no more is your good fortune. Now what is your bid?”
“A former slave of the Torgvalds cannot possibly be my brother’s wife.” Laughing, the man folded his muscular arms across his broad chest and regarded Celiese’s elegant figure with an appreciative glance.
“It is the truth!” she insisted, incensed he did not believe her.
“My brother is not married, so how could you be his wife?”
Exasperated, she attempted to prove she knew the man at least. “I do not know your name, only that you and your brother are here trading. Mylan is the eldest, while Erik, your younger brother, is sixteen. You have your mother’s eyes, her name is Thulyn.” Turning as she heard another man offer a generous bid, she urged him to help her. “If you are so foolish as to let another man buy me, Mylan will be furious with you! You can sell me yourself if what I say is not the truth, but what if it is?”
Not pleased by her taunts, the amber-eyed man waited a long moment before tossing a bag of gold at the auctioneer’s feet. He then leapt up onto the raised platform where Celiese stood and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders. “There has been some mistake, this woman should never have been offered for sale, but my purse contains more than enough to cover any bid you could have hoped to receive.”
Not waiting for an argument from the elderly man, he picked up Celiese, carried her across the square and down a narrow street, laughing all the way at her keen embarrassment, for no matter how tightly she clutched his cloak to her breasts it continued to fall open, displaying her nakedness to all who passed by. When he reached his inn he took her to his room, where his brother answered his knock and exclaimed in horror.
“Andrick! What have you done? You know mother will never permit you to keep such a woman!”