Far After Gold by Jen Black Page B

felt a small flush mount her cheeks.
    He had wanted her last night, and she had run from him. She had taken little care in what she said to him this morning, yet he had not berated her. He was proving remarkably tolerant. In a flash of honesty she admitted to herself that most men would have bedded her at the first opportunity, and given her a beating for her rudeness and sarcasm.
    It was oddly peaceful in the hut. She gazed into the flames and remembered her mother’s statement that one caught more flies with honey than with vinegar. Perhaps she ought to use more honey in her dealings with Flane. After all, it wasn’t his fault she had only the clothes she now wore. A spasm of guilt attacked her in earnest. He had done nothing to hurt her or cause her pain, and she was behaving like a spoilt child.
    Unable to sit still any longer, Emer got up, plucked a large bowl from a shelf and thrust it into his hands. “If you put some water in a bowl, I’ll go and wash.”
    He didn’t take it from her. “It’s hardly warm yet,” he said. “Wait a while.”
    “I don’t want to be found here, Flane. I don’t want to think what Katla will do if she finds us together.”
    He cocked his head. “She won’t do anything. I won’t let her.”
    “Not to you, perhaps. She is hardly going to chastise you for misdeeds, but I suspect she might take great pleasure in making my life miserable. She stole my necklace yesterday.”
    That caught his attention. “She stole your…? She likes jewellery, I know. But she has plenty of her own.”
     
    Emer tilted her head and considered him. “She said slaves didn’t wear jewellery and she would keep it for me. If I am to be a slave for the rest of my life, don’t you think that means she’s taken it?”
    Mingled regret and irritation crossed his features. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should never have brought you here.”
    She gazed at him blankly. “You wish you’d saved your silver?”
    A brief smile flitted across his face. “Probably.”
    “Perhaps you wish you’d never set eyes on me?”
    “By Thor, my life would have fewer problems if I’d never seen you in that damned slave compound.” He turned away, as if he regretted admitting as much.
    “What problems, Flane?”
    He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have Katla nagging at me, Skuli Grey Cloak giving me sour looks and you—” He turned back to face her, scowling. “You pick holes in my conscience like a crow on a carcase.”
    “A crow on—Well, I’m glad,” she snapped, and thrust the bowl into his hands. “My entire life has changed because of a whim of yours.”
    “It could have been worse,” he said. “At least you’re with me. Someone like Gamel could have turned up that day. Or the Moors could have taken you to Africa.” His smile appeared and disappeared just as swiftly.
    “Ha! I suppose you think my life is a pleasure to me now? I have a life of slavery to look forward to.”
    He grimaced, and dipped the bowl into the cauldron. “You had a life of slavery to look forward to before ever I found you, so stop whinging. Here. Take this. I’ll make sure no one comes in.” He plucked his tunic from the shelf and dropped it beside her as if he was offering gold. “Use that for your towel.”
    He turned, and walked out of the hut. Emer stared at the door for several long moments. She’d finally been stupid enough to annoy him. He was never going to help her if she snapped at him all the time.
    She sighed, stared at the bowl and then stripped off her clothes. Raised pink blotches stood on her skin where fleas had bitten and her mouth compressed to a tight line. Another grievance to hold against him.
    Fairness made her shake her head. She had decided to sweep out of the hall and sleep in the hut. In all fairness the decision had been hers, and nothing to do with Flane. Or partly to do with him. If he hadn’t pressured her…
    If she’d stayed he would have…would have used her body without her consent.