Life slowly grew constant for Sinaedh. Each morning she blinked open her eyes, each morning quickly hiding a small smile as first a dim gleam, then fuzzy images, and finally nearly clear sight returned. She continued to behave as if she could not see, for that earned her a bit more freedom, or so she believed. Whether grinding grain, spinning wool, or helping to plant the crops in the stony soil, Sinaedh used her hands rather than her eyes to guide her.
Each night was the same as well, although she tried to put memories from the nights in the hall out of her mind. She'd thought that perhaps the men would forget her, or find another that was prettier to satisfy them each evening. But the anger the men of the village had was high. They cursed her as they struck her, and screamed out invectives as they raped her. Every night as they lay snoring, she crawled from the hall, creeping in fear away from the warriors to a place where she could rest. Late every night, she prayed, and her heart was lifted as the prayers were answered, healing washing over her to ease the greatest of her hurts. She hid the healing as best she could, afraid the men of the settlement would kill her if they knew she still prayed to a foreign god.
Slowly she learned some of the tongue of her captors, understanding when the women told her to do one task or another. There were many women, some of them thralls, who seemed to run the household, although Aki himself had no wife. Sinaedh was put to many tasks both in the hall and in the fields. One morning, instead of grinding grain as she expected, she was handed a long forked stick. "We clean the hall," an elderly woman named Inga said. "Fardagar comes on the morrow, and there will be visitors. They must be impressed with the wealth of Lord Aki."
"Fardagar?" Sinaedh asked as she followed to the main hall. She held her breath, glancing around to see if any of the warriors still remained within, but they had risen with the sun, following Aki to the forests to hunt for game that would be roasted for the celebration.
"It is a time when debts are settled. When thralls are moved from farm to farm. We will not need more thralls, but Lord Aki owes Jarl Jens, so the Jarl will come to collect his debt." Inga took Sinaedh's hand and indicated the cleric should rake up the rushes, along with all the refuse that had accumulated within. As Sinaedh began to work, the older woman began to move down the bench on the side of the hall, lifting and folding blankets stored there. "Jarl Jens has loaned Lord Aki grain in the past two winters. The soil here is not good for crops."
"Aye," Sinaedh breathed in answer. "That I know." She'd spent days aiding in plowing and seeding the thin soil of the valley. "But if the soil is so weak, why farm here?"
"It is a holy place," the woman answered. "And good for trade, as well."
"Trade?" Sinaedh shook her head. "Lord Aki and the Blodfelag trade?"
She heard a chuckle from the old woman as she scraped some of the rushes out the low door to pile them outside. "No, but others do. Jarl Jens is a trader as well. His land is rockier than this here, but many boats come to his docks."
Sinaedh nodded slowly. The Jarl Inga spoke of must be very strong to trade openly with the Blodfelag without worry of attack. It would be interesting to see what sort of entourage attended the arrival of the visitors. It also boded more work for her and all the other thralls, for they would prepare for the celebration. "Finish, then come to the kitchen," the older woman said, as if she were reading Sinaedh's mind. "We have much preparation to do."
"Ja," Sinaedh said softly in answer. Her brows drew together as she considered the possibilities the occasion might bring.



[GRSites] | [HOME] | [Forward]