‘Our army.’
‘It isoursnow?’
‘It is if it means it will keep my sister safe. The day I agreed to marry you, I did it for the love of my sister. I did it so that she would not have to marry at my father’s whim. So that she may have a life she would choose, not a one that is chosen for her.’ My eyes met his. ‘If she is married to Finnleik then all of this has been for nothing?’
‘Nothing?’ He swivelled to face me, staring at me, his expression dumbfounded. ‘We are nothing? This is nothing?’
‘You are twisting my words. That is not what I mean–’
‘Your sister will marry Finnleik. It is your father’s decision, and you will not useMYmen inyourfight. If you chose this path, I would not stop you, but you are on your own.’
I hesitated for a moment. I watched as his jaw clenched and unclenched. It was the angriest I had ever seen him. If I chose to save my sister, he would not stop me, but it would be me alone. I would have no army. It did not matter.
‘No,’ I said, lifting my chin. ‘I will have no army, but I do not need one.’
I stood and watched my husband mount his gelding and leave.
Chapter 23
No Room at the Inn
It was late afternoon when we arrived in a hail of commotion at the trading port of Hamnavoe. We had travelled in grim silence. Not a word spoken between us. I had followed grudgingly. Upset and angry, mainly at my own hot temper. Then, I would not be swayed. I was as pigheaded as Sigurd and twice as cunning, at least I thought I was and I had planned on stopping my sister’s wedding, with or without my husband’s help.
The port was alive with life and the sounds of the churning sea. There must have been a hundred traders all packing up their goods when we arrived. We moved through warrens of stalls filled with all manner of exotic furs, from bear to boar and animals I had never even seen. Now, this is to be our main trade with Miklagard. Even in my old age, I love to weave my way through the stalls breathing in the heavy smells of the spices and listen to the tinkling of trinkets and the clatter of metal. Sounds and smells that soothed my soul.
As we moved further through the maze we came upon animal pens: aurochs yawning lazily, goats bleating with eyes like glass beads staring back at us. It was nothing like our markets in Atholl.
‘What is this place?’ I whispered, for a moment forgetting my husband’s bruised feelings.
‘It is my greatest accomplishment,’ he said sharply. ‘Our port sits along one of the busiest waterways. We receive trade from Iceland, Norway, Denmark and now Miklagard.’
‘Miklagard?’
‘In your tongue, it is Constantinople, The Great City.’
I glanced around. It teemed with merchants and traders. Part of me wondered if my father had known of its existence, that in gifting me to Sigurd and renting my womb it would somehow allow him to grow his own wealth.
One of the last stalls caught my eye. A Viking merchant, narrow and thin as a whip stood in front of the stall, consisting of four animal pens. Inside each, there were men and women, all of them chained hand to foot. Some had arms and legs covered in tattoos, others were covered in the blue woad of the Picts. The seller called out to passersby.
‘We still have thralls left, good strong women who can help about the farm,’ he shouted.
‘Where did you find these men and women?’ I asked.
‘My good lady, can I interest you in something? My men have all been sold, but these women, they would be good to work your farm and help with the children.’
I looked at the men. Good strong men who would be able to sail ships for me. In my guileless way, a plan had formed. I would purchase enough men for my army. We would sail together to Atholl, and I would stop Finnleik. I was nothing but foolish.
‘How did you come by the men?’
‘A settlement of gambling debts.’ He pulled a chain that linked the two men, filthy and beaten.
‘Are they for sale?’
‘No. They are headed to Iceland as oarsmen for Olaf Christensen’s ships.’
‘Would he be willing to sell them?’
‘My wife does not want to purchase any thralls,’ said Sigurd, trying to steer me away. ‘We want nothing.’
