Page 90 of Viking Warriors: Vol. 1-3
“In this case, I have silks and bracelets of gold, carried from Constantinople. It is these you come for, yes, to adorn this cherished plaything and make her fit for your harem?”
“You change not a whit, Yusuf!” barked Eldberg, clearly enjoying this game, though my own temper rankled to hear them speak of me thus.
“You may tempt me with your trinkets later, though I warrant you have nothing to offer that can compare to the enticement of her bare skin. She needs no fine garments to make herself beautiful to me. I’d keep her naked all the day and night were it not that I must drag myself to attend other matters occasionally.” Eldberg met my eyes, and his own were laughing still, caring not that anger flashed in mine.
“But, of course, a woman’s natural state is always most desirable,” the captain replied, and I saw a hint of lasciviousness as he looked upon me again, no doubt imagining me without the cover of my gown.
Eldberg cleared his throat and composed himself, asking more seriously, “It is medicines I come for, Yusuf. Like those you traded before, when I was unable to greet you and Thoryn came in my stead.” He turned his face, indicating the burns that had healed. “The aloe was effective, and we would purchase more, together with samples of other ingredients you recommend. If they prove potent, we shall buy greater volumes next time you sail to us.”
“I see you are not just fortunate in your company but wise, Jarl Eldberg.” The captain touched his heart. “And it will be my pleasure to supply all you require.”
Turning, he uttered instructions in his own tongue, sending two of his men below deck. They returned with a chest.
Opening it, Yusuf brought forth a ceramic pot sealed with wax. “One silver piece for an amphora of aloe, my friend. For the rest, I shall prepare a small vial of each spice from my personal store and explain their properties. For this, in good faith, I make no charge, but shall return with the spring tides and greater volumes—from which you may purchase as much as you wish. If it pleases you, I would trade for the furs you harvest this winter. Your foxes are particularly fine, and I have buyers who await them back in the east.”
Eldberg gave his agreement, and they proceeded about the business, Yusuf decanting small quantities of colourful powders and potions, giving their name and application: turmeric and ginger—to counteract soreness in the body and aid digestion, clove oil for relief of tooth pain, and cinnamon to ease breathing. There were twenty or more, each with its own remedy, which I committed to memory.
“And this, my friend, I’m sure you have no use for.” The captain shook a small ball, making it rattle. “It increases a man’s ability and sustains his force, for the creation of many children.” He gave a small smile. “Though you need it not, I shall place this nutmeg with your other medicines, in case one of the men under your command wishes to test its potency.”
Shaking hands, Eldberg thanked him for his thoroughness and opened the pouch upon his belt, counting out the necessary coins. When he’d finished, he held up an extra five.
“What else do you have for me then, Yusuf? Show me your best. Something fit to be worn by my golden queen.”
I reddened to hear him call me such, for the jest was at my expense. Whatever he named me, I was still his slave, without any right to refuse him or his gift.
The captain considered a moment before giving instruction again, sending another of his men to fetch what he requested.
There were three bolts of fabric, each of sufficient length to make a gown. The first was of rich green brocade, the next in pale gold, threaded through with silver, and the last a silk of shimmering blue—its hues similar to those of the fjord. In addition, Yusuf produced an arm circlet intricately shaped in silver and studded with pearls, with brooches to match.
I was speechless, for not even the fabric of my own wedding gown had been so fine, and I’d never worn any adornment of value—other than the ivory brooch given me by Asta.
Eldberg nodded. “You have a good eye, Yusuf. Pack everything, and we’ll leave you. I wish you a safe journey and shall look for your return.”
“Veda arkadasim. Farewell, my friend.”
As we rowed back to the pier, Eldberg leaned forward, resting his forearms upon his knees. “You will look most elegant, my Elswyth, but I meant what I said.”
“And what was that, my lord?” I looked over the water, not trusting myself to meet the intensity of his gaze.
“No matter how fine your gown, I shall always prefer you out of it.”
13
Eldberg
October 31st, 960AD
The skuas, gulls, and terns had flown, leaving the wind to moan its loss through the crags that hung above Skálavík.
Eldberg raised his face to the rolling pulse of shivering light—flickering green, silent. Even with his eyes closed, the shimmers remained, rippling and breaking—as vivid as the memory of her face.
In his mind, he reached for her.
Do you see me, Bretta?
They’d gathered to mark the rite ofAlfablót,to honour the souls of the dead and the spirits of the dark—theDökkalfar. Unseen by the living, mysterious, and at their most powerful during the long nights, such forces dwelled in the mountain above Skálavík. Tonight, they would receive their sacrifice, and all men would remember their frailty in the darkness of the unknown.
Sweyn led the young bull within the sacred circle—a stone for each man of Skálavík, and each man behind a stone.
