I began to cry.
‘Does it please you?’ he asked nervously.
‘Aye,’ I sniffed.
He put a finger under my chin and lifted it so that I was looking into his eyes. He still towered over me, even when we were seated. He kissed each eye, wiping away my tears.
‘Would you like your next gift?’
I could only nod.
From behind his back, he produced a thin slate board covered with squares, thirteen rows of thirteen squares and sat upon it were tiny ivory men, some holding shields like the berserkers, some sat upon thrones or horses but every one of them intricately carved. Sigurd looked as though he were about to burst with excitement.
‘It is tafl, have you heard of it?’
‘No, I have never seen anything like it. May I touch it?’
‘This is the King.’ He placed the largest of the pieces into my hand, a king sat upon his throne with a sword across his lap. ‘He is carved from the bone of a whale.’ He exchanged it for another. ‘The rest are made from walrus tusk. Look at the tiny horsemen.’
Sure enough, the next piece I held depicted a man on top of a horse.
‘But what is it?’
‘It is a game of strategy. We can play it in the evenings when I am not raiding.’
‘Will you show me?’
‘Yes… yes…’ he waved a hand. ‘Now I want to show you your last gift.’
I smiled to myself as Sigurd disappeared again. Yes, they made sacrifices to their gods but were they truly any worse than my father’s men? At least the Danes did not try to hide the monsters they were. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, unsure of what to expect. What could it be? Maybe a young filly? Or a gift of jewels like the bracelet he had given me on the night we met. I felt a thrill of excitement.
At last, he reappeared but he dragged with him a young woman, of a similar age to me. She was a beauty, with big blue eyes and high distinguishing features. Her hair was as fair as the sun on gold. Her hands were thin with long pale fingers that flexed against their bindings. He urged her forward. The girl writhed and twisted. Angry as an adder and as wild as a wolf.
‘I do not understand?’ I said and I didn’t.
‘She is yours,’ he beamed pushing the girl forward. ‘A slave girl. She will serve you well and make you feel at home. She came from a raid in Northumbria.’
No older than twenty and wearing dresses that could have been Donada’s. My thoughts turned to her, how could they not? She was her very image. Would she be as terrified as this young woman? Did she even know of what my father had planned? I had been so caught up in my wedding and bedding my new husband that I had scarcely thought of her.
‘I am not a slave.’ She spat.
‘Mine?’ I said horrified. I was well aware of the Danes and their trade in sales of flesh but I had no want of one of my own. ‘What would I want with a slave?’
‘She can be your handmaiden, is that not what you have?’ he shook her again and handed me her binding.
‘I cannot accept such a gift.’
‘How will your people know you are to be trusted if you do not accept our gifts?’ he looked almost hurt. ‘If you do not accept that your old life has gone and that you are beginning a new life as the wife of a Jarl? You would insult our people, YOUR people?’
He was right. He usually was, but it is a wife’s discretion to never tell her husband how right he is, or we would never be able to live with them for they would be crowing about it from sunrise to sundown.
Sigurd had made good money from slavery, those that he did not kill he would bring home and sell to our farmers or send them to the Danish lands. He made the most money in trading ports in Miklagard
‘What is your name?’
She pushed out her chin and stared me right in the eye. ‘Ligach.’
‘I am Oli-.’
