Authors: Jen Black
Her sarcasm had spoilt the friendly atmosphere between them. If she hadn’t been so sharp and objectionable, she might have cajoled a new gown out of him. When she considered her desertion of him last night and her rudeness this morning, she 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. He’d left her with no choice. Some of the blame must be his. She grabbed the soap beaker and slammed it down on the wooden floor at her side and worked up lather in the warm water, soaped herself liberally and rubbed what was left into her hair. Still working at a furious pace, she picked up the bowl and stepped outside onto the lakeside boards.
The sun had cleared the hill tops and the air was warm. She dithered at the top of the wooden steps. The water might look inviting, but she knew how cold it was. Should she jump in and get the shock over with, or walk down the steps?
“I’d jump if I were you.”
She whirled around before she remembered she was naked. “Flane! Go away!”
He seemed amused. He should not see her naked, especially not with unsightly pink blemishes on her skin. She looked round, but there was nowhere to hide and nothing she could use as a cover. Emer took one swift stride and jumped into the loch.
The water was indescribably cold. With a cross between a scream and a gasp, Emer wrenched around to see Flane on the bank at the side of the hut, laughing.
“Go away!”
It came out as a reedy gasp. She could hardly speak. Groaning, struggling to take a decent breath she trod water, and hoped her hair flared around her for at least that would obscure his view of her body.
“You look like a mermaid.”
His voice held laughter. She blinked water out of her eyes and looked at him. He doubled over, grasped one boot and tossed it aside. Emer forgot the coldness of the water. Surely he wasn’t proposing to join her in the water?
Dear Lord, please no!
She stretched her toes down to find the bottom and immediately went under. She came up again, spluttering, blowing and shaking water out of her eyes. Dazed with cold, she flung out her arms to stay afloat.
Flane straightened, tossed the second boot to join its companion and moved forward. “Wait there till I join you!”
“Flane Ketilsson!” Remembering they were supposed to be bathing without attracting attention, she made violent motions with her arms. “Go away! Go away!”
He took no notice of her, calmly stepped out of his trousers and undergarment and made a low, fast dive into the water.
The water rippled in widening circles where he’d disappeared. From her low vantage point, Emer could see no sign of him but she had a nasty suspicion he would make straight for her. Sure enough, hands grasped her waist so suddenly that she gasped, and he came up in front of her in a shower of sparkling water drops.
Without a word he bent his head and kissed her.
Emer drew a frantic breath through her nose, and beat at his shoulders with her fists. He did not let go. Instead he wound his arms around her and pulled her against him. She would have gasped, if she’d had any air with which to gasp, for the shock of his body was immense. Her blood thundered in her ears and her efforts to beat him off only brought a gurgle of laughter from deep in his throat.
“Oh, Emer, Emer!” He murmured against her ear, but she hardly heard him, for she could feel the warmth of his chest and belly pressed against her own. Water flowed around them but could not pass between them. Struggling to be free, she felt his increasing hardness, looked up, met his intense blue gaze and stopped struggling, shocked into some dizzy region where there was no such thing as coherent thought.
His hands, already spread across her spine, moved, drew her even closer. His lips found hers, teased and tasted them. Sensation drowned her. Her eyes closed.
He drew back a little. Cold water surged between them and Emer shivered violently. His silver hair, darkened with water, hung over his brow and suddenly his blue eyes were serious. He wasn’t laughing.
“Flane…” She cleared her throat and began again. “Flane, this is dangerous. What if Katla should see us? Or someone else, who would carry tales to her?”
“I know. It’s stupid of me. But when I saw you, I couldn’t…I couldn’t resist you. Just like the first time.” He drew a deep breath and she rose and sank in the water as his chest expanded and deflated. “But you are right. I shouldn’t have done it. I think…I have some serious thinking to do.”
“I thought you’d already done the serious thinking,” Emer observed tartly. “You’ve chosen Katla. Everyone knew except me.”
It was no good. She simply could not control her tongue.
His arms tightened and lifted her so he could drop a kiss on her nose, and then let her go. She floundered, almost sank and received a brief view of Flane’s long, muscled back and legs as he heaved himself out onto the boards with practiced ease. He grabbed his boots and clothes and disappeared through the door.
The bones of her feet hurt in the coldness of the water and Emer groaned as she washed the soap out of her hair. Her teeth chattered as she made her way to the steps and caught a glimpse of a half-naked Flane loping back to the hall. She clambered out, paused briefly to squeeze the water out of her hair and scampered into the hut out of sight of prying eyes. Once there, the urge to smile fought with the urge to weep.
Water dripped and pooled on the floor about her feet. She was glad of the fire he’d lit, but stared, shivering, at the tunic lying in a crumpled heap where he’d left it. He’d said she should use it as a towel, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to pick it up.
She sighed. There was nothing else. She held it to her face and at once the smell of him overwhelmed her. She should have expected it, of course.
She held it out and examined it. The colour had once been bright green, but it was much faded. The cloth was old, and soft on the hand, but it had been expertly woven. The stitching was neat and even. His mother? Nothing his mother made would fit him now. Someone he paid to do it for him? There was no way she could know without asking him.
She shook out her clothes over the fire to be rid of any small invaders, dried off and got dressed, then sat and combed out her hair very carefully with Flane’s comb. The teeth were close together, so she could be sure she left nothing crawling in her hair. It occurred to her suddenly that if word of their meeting this morning did reach Katla, it might perhaps spur her to speak to Flane or her father about sending Emer back to Pabaigh. Emer smiled, and began to comb with more vigour. Suddenly, it seemed worth it to run the risk of Katla’s displeasure.
***
Everyone was awake, dressed and scooping porridge out of the cauldron when she walked back into the hall. Oli waved his spoon at her, Grendel ran to greet her and Flane, she saw with a spurt of indignation, had Katla clinging to his arm. His hair was still wet and already he smiled at another woman.
After the time they had spent in the bathing hut, it jarred her. Emer turned away and tried to school her face, unable to contemplate what Katla might be whispering in Flane’s ear. What upset her most was that he was listening, and smiling. The man could not be trusted at all.
She grabbed a heel of bread, slipped out through the door to the byre before anyone saw her and headed for the rough tangle of bushes behind the buildings. It was a relief to escape the constant watchful eyes of the settlement if only for a few brief moments.
Within a very short time, she heard the patter of feet behind her and a slim, agile black and white shape shot into view. Oli’s dog pranced along at her side. She looked back and slowed until the boy caught up.
“Where are you going?”
Emer shrugged. “For a walk. I thought I’d be on my own for a while.”
His face fell. “Can’t I come with you?”
“Of course you can. What I really meant—” Emer bent so she was level with him. “Can you keep a secret?”
Hazel eyes shining in a snub-nosed face, Oli nodded.
“I really want to avoid the lady Katla. Now, please don’t tell anyone I said that, will you?”
“I don’t like her much, anyway.” He skipped along beside her.
Emer tossed her hair back, and opened her arms to take in the bushes and young trees all around. “This is all new to me. Why don’t you take me for a walk? I promise I won’t speak to any strange men this time.”
He grinned, grasped her hand and tugged. “I’ll show you my den! It’s secret, too. You won’t tell anyone, will you? Not even Flane?”
“I thought Flane was your friend?”
“He is. Everyone is,” Oli muttered, “until they want me to do something and then it’s Oli, do this! Oli, go there—”
“What! Even Flane?”
Oli pulled a face. “Well, sometimes he does.”
Emer chuckled. “Never mind. It is certainly better than being ignored, don’t you think? There’s nothing quite as bad as living with people who behave as though you don’t exist.”
The boy stopped pulling on her hand and half turned while he considered her words. His hair fell over his eyes, and he flicked it out of his way. “Maybe.” He launched forward again. “Come on!”
He plunged on and soon they were in the gloom of tall trees, walking on pine needles that muffled all sound. The scent of resin filled the air.
Emer followed without a murmur. There was no trail, but her small guide knew where he was going and led her to a clearing where sunlight speared down through the branches and illuminated a dome-shaped heap of grey stones.
Oli grinned at her over his shoulder. “This is my den. I’ll go first.”
Surprised, she watched as he dropped to his knees and crawled into the small entrance tunnel. “Oli, is it safe? What if the roof falls on you?” The dog wriggled after him, white tail waving like a plume against the grey stones.
Oli’s voice echoed eerily from the tunnel. “It is bigger than you think. Come in.”
Emer crouched down and peered inside. The ground sloped down, and light reflected from Oli’s eyes and teeth in the gloom. The big stones fitted snugly together and they looked firm. Taking a deep breath, Emer crawled inside and tried not to think that each rock, if it fell, would break her arm or leg. If that happened, she and Oli and his dog would no doubt be found squashed flat one day far in the future.
It was cramped inside, with just enough room for her to squat beside Oli. As her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she examined the roof arching up just over her head, stone upon stone, all completely dry and lichen free. “Well! Isn’t this strange? And wonderful,” she added, in case he thought she did not like it.