Authors: Jen Black
“Does Skuli think of Flane as his son?”
“Well, he hasn’t got any others. He’s only got Katla.”
“Not even any, um…”
Oli flashed a quick, cheeky grin in her direction. “You mean bastards?”
Emer repressed a smile. “Illegitimate sons, Oli. Bastard is a very rude word for a small boy.”
“I know, but I’m not all that small. Flane thinks I’m nearly eleven.” He shrugged. “It’s a word Gamel uses a lot, so I found out what it meant. I asked Skeggi.”
“Who
is
Gamel?”
Oli gave up on the fish, straightened and waded across the stream. “One of the warrior band. He smells.” He threw himself down on the grass beside her. “I don’t like him.”
She remembered her first night in the hall, and how Flane had chased one man away from her. “Is he married?”
Oli sniggered. “No one will have him.”
“Oh.” Emer wasn’t surprised, but decided she shouldn’t discuss such things with a child. “Is Skeggi the one with lots of dark curls? He’s nice.”
Oli nodded. “He’s Flane’s friend. Flane’s nice, too. I want to be like Flane when I grow up.”
“I think I’d like to be a man when I grow up.”
Oli stared at her, wide-eyed. “But you’re a girl! And you
are
grown up!”
“I know. Disappointing, isn’t it?” She laughed. “But men have so much independence. That’s what I want. Women are always being told what to do and I hate it!”
“Well, you’d have to go to war, and kill people with a sword. And skin a deer and dig out the midden and get caught in storms when you’re out at sea…”
Emer thumped her fist on the grass. “Well, if you can do all that, I can, too!”
“Bet you can’t!
“Can!”
The day passed in cheerful banter. They dammed the stream, walked on up the valley and watched grazing deer lift their heads and trot elegantly away at their approach. Grendel almost caught a wood pigeon but came trotting back with only a feather hanging from his jaw. When they turned for home in the late afternoon, Emer was still curious about Flane. “What happened to Flane’s parents, Oli?”
“I think they died of a fever. Some kind of sweating sickness.”
“He didn’t have any brothers or sisters?”
“Don’t think so. He never mentions anyone like that.”
“If Skuli Grey Cloak wants Flane to lead the band after him, I see why he wants Flane to marry Katla. I also know why he doesn’t approve of me,” she finished slowly, suddenly seeing it clearly from the chieftain’s point of view. “He’s afraid I’ll upset all his plans.”
Oli glanced sideways at her. “How could you do that?”
Emer shrugged. “Oh, if Flane should grow to like me more than Katla. That would spoil his plans, wouldn’t it?”
“You mean Flane might marry you instead? Oh, I’d like that!”
Emer did not say anything, and Oli turned puzzled eyes to her sombre face. “You do like Flane, don’t you?”
“I think so, but I don’t really know him very well.”
“That’s why you’re asking all these questions! You want to know all about him, don’t you?”
“No, of course not. Look, can we get home if we go this way?” She pointed to a small trail winding through the bracken and heather across the hillside. “Is it a deer trail or a path?”
Oli frowned. “We can if you want, but it is steeper that way. The big forest begins on the other side of the hill, and once you’re in there you can’t see anything much. You might walk into a wolf. It’s easier walking if we go the way we came.”
“The easy way it is, then. We don’t have wolves on our island.” The thought of wolves made her glance nervously around the surrounding trees. “Oh, look.” Their small trail joined another path, and ahead of them four men carried a deer slung on a pole between them. “They’ve been hunting. Now they’ll be walking back into the settlement, so we won’t have to worry about wolves if we stay close to them.”
“Slow down, Emer. It’s Gamel, and we don’t want to run into him.”
“He won’t hurt us.” Gamel on his own would be worth avoiding, but in a group he could hardly do them harm. “Not when the other men are with us.”
Oli looked doubtful, but Emer, used to the friendly families of her island, increased her pace and hurried after the group who disappeared around a bend of the path. The trees closed in around them, and when they rounded the curve, Emer gasped in dismay. Gamel was waiting for them, his shoulders comfortably propped against a tree trunk. The other men had gone on ahead.
Oli groaned. “This isn’t a good idea….”
Gamel ignored Oli, but smiled at Emer as they drew closer. “What are you doing out on your own?”
Emer looked surprised. “Just walking, getting to know the countryside.” Staring at the ugly gaps in his teeth made her think he would do better not to smile.
Gamel leered, and Emer hastily looked away. “You shouldn’t be out alone.”
“Why ever not?” She looked down at her youthful guide. “Oli knows the way and we’re not so very far from the settlement.”
“You could be meeting a lover!” Gamel sniggered as if he’d made a good joke.
His words were offensive and the nasty way he ran his gaze over her body made her think Oli had been right after all. She closed her mouth, kept her own counsel and set a fast pace in the hope that they would catch up with the hunting party before long. When the trail offered glimpses of the rushing brown river through the trees, she knew they would be back in the steading very soon.
Even the hunters slowed as they crossed the stepping stones. Feeling safer in their company, Emer relaxed and watched them nimbly transport the carcase across the stones. Gamel waved her ahead of him and Grendel rushed ahead of her. Laughing at the dog’s speed, she skipped across the first few stones with ease and then turned, expecting to see Oli behind her.
Instead she found Gamel crowding close. Jolted, she turned too quickly and made the mistake of looking down at the water surging through the stones. Dizziness didn’t help. She jerked her head up just as Gamel put an arm about her waist. His breath blew hot and damp on her ear.
“Steady now! Just stand still, don’t rush! You’ll be fine.” He pulled her slender body back against him, and thrust his own forward against her buttocks.
Emer felt ill.
Oh, dear Lord, Oli was right!
She struggled silently, but Gamel did not release her. He chuckled softly and grabbed her breast through the soft fabric of her gown and stroked her, over and over. Emer gagged with revulsion and struggled against him.
“Let me go!” She could not break free.
“Oh, this feels good,” Gamel muttered in her ear. “Just wait until I get you to myself one night.”
“You will never, ever—oh!” Her voice broke on an outraged squawk as his hand scrabbled through the folds of her gown to her groin and gripped her hard.
Emer dug her nails into the back of his hand and threw herself sideways without a thought about falling in the river and perhaps drowning. She slid out of his grasp, lost what little balance she had and only saved herself by plunging forward onto the next stone.
Regaining her balance, Emer wheeled round, too furious to care about her safety and kicked at his legs. She caught him behind the knee. Gamel teetered over the swift brown water, arms rotating in an effort to keep his balance. Emer yelped in satisfaction when he toppled over and water closed over his fleshy pink head. The water was not deep, but the swift current rolled him across the rocky, uneven river bed. He’d have a good few bruises come morning.
Oli whooped with laughter, and Grendel barked from the river bank.
“Hah!” Emer skipped up and down on the stone, and didn’t wait to see what happened to him. She ran across the rest of the stones as if the furies were after her and tore down the track through the trees with Oli howling with laughter behind her.
She slowed to catch her breath before she went into the hall. One hand to her rib cage, still laughing, she saw Gamel storm out of the trees long before she expected him. Furious and leaking water at every step, he looked ready to commit murder. She and Oli exchanged swift glances and dived into the hall.
Flane sat at the hearth, but she walked straight to his bed space and sat, her back straight, and her hands folded neatly together in her lap. Oli flung himself down beside her, pink in the face with repressed giggles and Grendel leapt up beside them both and flopped down, forelegs extended, tongue lolling.
Gamel burst in after them, kept his stony gaze on his bed space as he squelched through the hall. Conversation died down and then broke out again with renewed vigour with a gurgle of repressed laughter beneath it as everyone stared at the wet, lanky figure.
Emer met Flane’s gaze, and smiled. Oli stuffed his fists in his mouth to stop himself laughing. Flane rose and walked slowly across the hall.
“What’s happened?” he asked. “What happened to Gamel?”
“The river,” Emer gasped, torn between laughter and fear of Flane’s reaction. “He fell in!”
Oli rolled across the bed, and hammered his heels on the mattress.
Flane glanced from her to the boy and back again. Then he looked over his shoulder at Gamel. She had no idea what Flane thought of it all, but he said quietly, “You should not have gone out without me.”
Emer’s stomach shrivelled into a small hard nut at his cold expression.
“We only went for a walk,” she said. “We didn’t go far.”
“You don’t go for walks.”
“Why ever not? Flane, I—”
He grasped her arm and marched her out of the hall. He walked with such long strides it was a struggle for her to keep up. She was breathless by the time he steered her through the fishing nets, barrels and baskets littering the boards of the jetty. Flane shoved her down onto an overturned barrel, propped one booted foot against an upended bucket, leaned his forearm across his knee and glared at her. “What have you done?”
Water lapped gently beneath the jetty. Gulls swooped and called above their heads. Emer coughed, and looked down at her hands. The urge to laugh had long since disappeared. “I had to defend myself.”
“Go on.” His mouth had set in a firm, hard line.
Emer ran a hand through her hair and found she couldn’t because it was still skewered into a bun. She plucked the skewer free and her hair tumbled down her back. Twirling the skewer ceaselessly between her fingers, she spoke quickly, anxious to get the confession over. “Gamel grabbed me on the stepping stones. His hands—he touched me—he—” She hesitated. “It was revolting!” She spat the words out. “If that’s what men do to women I want none of it!”
“So what happened?”
“I wriggled free,” she muttered. “We both nearly fell in. I kicked him, and he did.” She looked up. “Fell in, I mean.” She stared up at Flane. “Why are you so angry with me?”
“You are causing me a great deal of trouble,” he said, his blue eyes hot with temper. She suspected he might beat her for disobedience. Then she noticed how his mouth twitched and when he finally gave up the struggle and grinned, she realised she had been frightened for nothing.
Instead of feeling relief, she was angry. “I’m so sorry about that,” she said, gazing across the water and refusing to look at him.
“Sarcasm is hardly good for someone in your position.”
“My position?” Emer jumped to her feet. A muscle flickered at the side of his mouth, and his brows lifted in surprise. “You put me in this position!” she cried. “I didn’t ask to be here. I didn’t throw myself at you!”
“I know that!” He frowned along the jetty as if seeking inspiration. “What did you mean just now?”
Emer’s brows knitted together. “When?”
“You said, ‘
if that’s what men do to women I want none of it
.’”
“Oh.” A seagull landed neatly on top of a post, folded its wings and squawked at its fellows. “It was disgusting,” she said in a small voice, and shuddered. “I don’t know how any woman can enjoy that sort of thing.”
“I’m sure women don’t enjoy Gamel, and in the ten years that I can remember, he’s never had a pretty woman like you.”
Emer looked up into his amused blue eyes. “I don’t think it is funny.”
“He’s not typical of men. Don’t think that.”
“Is he jealous of you?”
He shrugged. “Never thought about it. Could be. Just stay out of his way.”
Her eyes widened. “You can’t think I want to be anywhere near him?”
“Emer, it isn’t a case of what you want. Give Gamel half a chance and he’ll take what he wants.”
“So my life must be restricted because he—”
“You need to protect yourself.”
“Give me a knife and I’ll protect myself!”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“How can I protect myself if you won’t give me a knife?”
“Here.” He handed her his own wicked blade. “Protect yourself.”
Startled, she took it. It was heavier than she thought it would be. She held it in front of her like a candle, unsure what to do next.
“Now attack me.”
“I can’t attack you.”
“But you think you can attack Gamel?”
“Of course—”
He grasped her waist so fast she gasped. His hands slid down, clamped her buttocks and dragged her tight against him. “Now, what would you do if I were Gamel? That’s not much good, is it?” He nodded at the knife held upright in her hand, the hilt resting on his chest.
Emer gulped and swallowed hard, shocked at the speed of his action. Determination flashed through her face, but before she could ram the knife against his throat, he grasped the wrist that held it. In vain she tried to inflict an injury on him, but he held her off so easily it was laughable.
He was grinning, damn him, and she could not move.
“Do you get the point?” His blue eyes sparkled with wicked enjoyment of her helplessness.
Chapter Five
Emer sat up next morning and rubbed her eyes. Flane had gone again. Emer shook her head slowly and thought how strange that such a large man could get out of the same bed without waking her. He could move so silently, and so gently. She looked around. Oli sat at the hearth gulping down porridge, a hopeful Grendel at his side. Men scooped food from the cauldron, but Flane was not among them.