with Bausi, and that comforts me. It comforts me that he’s grown enough now to not take everything Bausi says as truth, that he doesn’t always follow Bausi’s order true. Makes his own little twist on it. He don’t want Bausi knowing of this Wilda, and that should comfort you too. He’s planning something, I don’t know what, but whatever it is, he don’t want Bausi to know. So you just leave her be, Toki, you hear me? I’ll be taking care of her, till Winter Nights at least, and you know I’ll take good care.”
Toki nodded miserably. Agnar would take good care of her, he knew that, but that wasn’t the problem. Sigdir was the problem, and Bausi. And himself, he was the biggest problem, because he lacked the means to do anything about it.
If he couldn’t buy her, and he couldn’t help her run, what could he do? He looked down at the cloak. He could help her buy herself—she could buy her own freedom, and no one could stop that. The cloak wasn’t enough, nor cloak and pig, but it would be a start. Six ounces of silver was the price of freedom. He pushed past Bebba and looked down at Wilda. She trembled, making his Mjollnir amulet jingle on its chain where it hung from the brooch that pinned her apron-dress, yet the look she gave him was steady enough, and again she managed a smile. Too hemmed in, pinned down, caught where she had once been free.
Maybe he was doing this, not because he should, not because saving her was the one good thing he’d ever done and he would keep it, but for that smile. A smile for a man, not a half-wit mute, a coward and a disgrace. He held out the cloak.
Chapter Nine
The mind knows alone what is nearest the heart
and sees where the soul is turned.
Havamal: 93
Wilda spent the afternoon grinding, a hard and thankless task and a mindless one she could lose herself in. Her back, neck and arm throbbed with the strain, but she dared not stop. Agnar had Bebba repeat to her often that she was a thrall, she would do as she was bidden.
A shadow fell over her, black and looming from the doorway. Almost before she registered it, a hand took her across the face, knuckles and two rings opening a cut. Wilda fell to the floor, her fingers to her cheek. Before she could try to get up, someone caught at the back of her dress and dragged her to her feet, and face to face with Sigdir.
Red hair streamed back from a broad face that would have been handsome but for the twisted sneer. Blue eyes peeked out of deep sockets, eyes that were never still, always searching, suspicious of everything and everyone. Sigdir, her master.
His words sounded like a wolf growling and, against her will, Wilda shrank back. When Bebba translated, her voice shook.
“He says you ain’t doing as you’re told. You’re a thrall, his thrall, and you do whatever you’re told to do, as soon as you’re told to do it. You don’t stop till you’re given leave. And you’re to stop all this making up to Toki. He says…he says you ain’t to get above yourself, like I do.”
Wilda’s spine stiffened at that. She’d done as she was told for a long time now. Be good. Be virtuous. Stop running off wild when it suits you. Buckle down. Work hard. Where had it got her? Here, where things were worse than ever, where the chains were only more obvious, the collar visible round her neck now.
Sigdir spat out more growls and Bebba translated again. “He says stand up straight so’s he can look at you.”
Wilda pinched her lips together but stood up straighter. There was a time and place for fighting back, and this wasn’t it. Not with just her and Bebba against Sigdir, who stood a head taller than them, probably weighed the same as the two of them put together and had a bright sword at his waist. She had to bide her time.
“He wants to know about Toki.”
Wilda snatched a look at Bebba, but the older woman’s face was blank. “What about him?”
“You know right well what.”
“I don’t know, I told you. Even if I
Toki nodded miserably. Agnar would take good care of her, he knew that, but that wasn’t the problem. Sigdir was the problem, and Bausi. And himself, he was the biggest problem, because he lacked the means to do anything about it.
If he couldn’t buy her, and he couldn’t help her run, what could he do? He looked down at the cloak. He could help her buy herself—she could buy her own freedom, and no one could stop that. The cloak wasn’t enough, nor cloak and pig, but it would be a start. Six ounces of silver was the price of freedom. He pushed past Bebba and looked down at Wilda. She trembled, making his Mjollnir amulet jingle on its chain where it hung from the brooch that pinned her apron-dress, yet the look she gave him was steady enough, and again she managed a smile. Too hemmed in, pinned down, caught where she had once been free.
Maybe he was doing this, not because he should, not because saving her was the one good thing he’d ever done and he would keep it, but for that smile. A smile for a man, not a half-wit mute, a coward and a disgrace. He held out the cloak.
Chapter Nine
The mind knows alone what is nearest the heart
and sees where the soul is turned.
Havamal: 93
Wilda spent the afternoon grinding, a hard and thankless task and a mindless one she could lose herself in. Her back, neck and arm throbbed with the strain, but she dared not stop. Agnar had Bebba repeat to her often that she was a thrall, she would do as she was bidden.
A shadow fell over her, black and looming from the doorway. Almost before she registered it, a hand took her across the face, knuckles and two rings opening a cut. Wilda fell to the floor, her fingers to her cheek. Before she could try to get up, someone caught at the back of her dress and dragged her to her feet, and face to face with Sigdir.
Red hair streamed back from a broad face that would have been handsome but for the twisted sneer. Blue eyes peeked out of deep sockets, eyes that were never still, always searching, suspicious of everything and everyone. Sigdir, her master.
His words sounded like a wolf growling and, against her will, Wilda shrank back. When Bebba translated, her voice shook.
“He says you ain’t doing as you’re told. You’re a thrall, his thrall, and you do whatever you’re told to do, as soon as you’re told to do it. You don’t stop till you’re given leave. And you’re to stop all this making up to Toki. He says…he says you ain’t to get above yourself, like I do.”
Wilda’s spine stiffened at that. She’d done as she was told for a long time now. Be good. Be virtuous. Stop running off wild when it suits you. Buckle down. Work hard. Where had it got her? Here, where things were worse than ever, where the chains were only more obvious, the collar visible round her neck now.
Sigdir spat out more growls and Bebba translated again. “He says stand up straight so’s he can look at you.”
Wilda pinched her lips together but stood up straighter. There was a time and place for fighting back, and this wasn’t it. Not with just her and Bebba against Sigdir, who stood a head taller than them, probably weighed the same as the two of them put together and had a bright sword at his waist. She had to bide her time.
“He wants to know about Toki.”
Wilda snatched a look at Bebba, but the older woman’s face was blank. “What about him?”
“You know right well what.”
“I don’t know, I told you. Even if I
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