Page 28 of Viking Beast
With the flames smothered, Thirka’s terrified cries subsided to sobs. Moaning, she looked up with wide eyes. Thoryn had bounded over the table. Kneeling at her side, he took Thirka’s hand, his face grey. “She stepped backward, coming too close to the embers.”
“So tired.” Thirka was mumbling. “Just need to lie down.”
“’Tis all right,” Thoryn whispered. “I’ll care for you.” He picked her up.
“By your leave, jarl, I’ll take her to my hut.”
How did I miss that?thought Eldberg. Thoryn was in love with the girl. Under his own nose, and he’d not realised.
“I can make a salve for the burns.” Elswyth was beside them, lifting the hem of Thirka’s skirt. She winced at what she saw.
“We have honey,” said Ragerta. She wrung her hands. “And there’s marigold in the herb garden.”
“Gather them quickly, and comfrey if you have it.” She thought for a moment. “If you have valerian root, we’ll steep that for her to drink, and mash the others for a salve.”
She turned to Thoryn. “You must spread it thickly on her feet and calves—on her hands, too. Lay Thirka down, and bare her legs. You’ll need some linens to wrap her, after you’ve applied the salve.”
Eldberg beheld Elswyth in wonder. Gone were the downcast eyes and her forlorn look. A spark had lit within her, giving her new purpose.
Thoryn swallowed. “Good lady, my thanks, but—”
He looked at Eldberg. “I would have her help. I don’t know if I can—” Thoryn’s voice wavered.
He touched his forehead to Thirka’s. “She is burnt.”
Burnt.
Eldberg knew what it was to be touched by fire. The healers had made his salves, with herbs not just from Skálavík but those traded from far lands. Aloe, wasn’t it, that they’d smeared over him. Cooling, soothing aloe. A small pot remained, which he yet used upon his eye.
“Sigrid!”
She hadn’t moved from her place at the high table.
“The salve for my eye. Fetch it.”
Cutting a segment from her apple, she took it between her teeth. “It’s costly, and there will be no more until the merchant returns. Are you sure, my jarl, that you wish to use it on this thrall?”
Eldberg clenched his fists. “Fetch it, Sigrid.”
He looked from his friend to Elswyth. “Go, Thoryn, and take her with you. Ragerta will bring what you need. There’s enough moon for her to see by. She’ll find the plants and carry all to your hut.”
Elswyth hesitated, as if disbelieving, then hurried after Thoryn.
Only after they’d left did Sigrid come storming over to him, her face twisted in rage.
“That bitch! She dared enter my chamber and took it! My new cape!”
It was a rare thing for Eldberg to laugh, but he felt it rise in him now. The cloth in which they’d wrapped Thirka had been the same red as Elswyth’s dress.
12
Elswyth
August 4th, 960AD
Thirka had been fortunate, Eldberg’s quick-thinking had saved her from greater injury. She’d heal, if her wounds were kept clean. There would be scarring, but she’d walk again. The burns on her hands were superficial, her palms already accustomed to working close to the fire’s heat.
Ragerta and I had worked quickly to prepare the unguent of honey, comfrey, and marigold, spreading it thickly, then wrapping it with strips of linen. We used the aloe where the burns seemed most severe—the back of Thirka’s knees and her lower thigh. To ease her discomfort, we mashed valerian root, steeping in hot water. This, she was to sip every waking hour. I’d find willow bark when there was more time, for that was the best remedy in subduing pain, and it was easy to chew. Perhaps the forest held witch hazel, too. Once Thirka began to heal, it would aid the process.
