‘My husband speaks for himself.’ I glowered. ‘And these women?’
If I could not have men, women would do. Sigurd’s shieldmaidens were as fearsome as his men, if not more so.
‘Those women are the spoils of raiding. Beauties are they not? Would your husband like some concubines?’
The two women, both younger than me were trembling, hands clasped together for comfort. They wore nothing but rags, skin burnt red with the cold. Wisps of purple bruising marked their wrists and ankles where they had been bound. Stood before them, I did not want to make shieldmaidens of them, I wanted to cry for them as they waited to be raped by the first man that would give him his price.
‘I will take them both.’
‘You have a very fortunate husband,’ the merchant crooned.
‘I do not think that is what she intends.’ Sigurd snapped. ‘Woman, you do not have to do this.’
‘I want them both.’ I did not look in his direction.
Whether thralls or not. Icelanders or not. I could not allow them to be given to the first man that felt he should own them. That wanted to take their bodies for his own. The more our mother had cried for our brother, the more neglectful she became. I was not my mother. I could not stand by.
‘Give him his price, Jarl Sigurd.’
Realisation spread across the merchant’s face as he glanced first at Sigurd and then at me.
‘They are thralls,’ Sigurd growled. ‘They are not fighters. They are nothing. Two women do not make an army.’
‘An army! You think I am doing this because I want an army? I’m taking these women to stop them being raped over and over again by men like you! By men who think they own them.’
‘By men like me!’ Now we were drawing an audience. ‘First, you want to raise an army and now, now you want to go around buying thralls so that men can no longer have concubines. What is the matter with you?’
‘What is the matter with me?’ I tried to shake him off, but his fingers dug into my upper arm. ‘I’ll tell ya. I am Jarl in every way. Yer happy ta leave me when it suits you to go raiding, like some cuckoo in a nest. I am your eyes, and I am your voice but only when those words come from Thorkell! Well today, I am Jarl. These are my words, and I am buying these women.’ My accent was growing thicker by the second the angrier I got.
‘When they are sold it will make way for the next and the next. It does not stop because you have bought these two women!’
‘But it stops for them.’ I pushed out my chin. I would not be moved. ‘Merchant, I will take these women.’ My gaze did not leave my husband.
I am only lucky that Sigurd was a good man, I think another Dane or any man for that matter might have throttled me for causing such embarrassment. I never could hold my tongue, not if my life depended on it.
‘How much?’ Sigurd’s face flushed with fury, but he slackened his grip. ‘For this gift for my wife.’ He emphasised the wife.
‘Jarl Sigurd, I did not recognise…. It will be a small price; I will take three silver pennigar each.’
‘Two and you will give them to my wife.’
The merchant thought for a second before unfastening the chain from the post and handed it to me, the women stumbling after him.
‘It is all right.’ I tried, saying it louder than I would, unsure of which language they spoke. ‘I will not let them hurt you.’
Sigurd tipped the coins into his waiting hand.
‘Will you remove their chains?’
‘What will you do next? Give them the meat from my bowl while I eat it. Give them my bed?’
I made a determined effort to ignore my husband’s protests.
‘You do not need to ask my husband’s permission. I am capable of speaking for myself. Now, untie them.’
The merchant glanced again at Sigurd.
‘Forgive my wife she seems to have forgotten her place.’
