The Betrothed Sister Read Free

and behind for the necessary. She took note that it must be that covered pail that leaned against the ship’s wall just at the furthest end of the ship where the stern curved upwards into a dragon’s tail. They would need to be careful if they had to crawl around the chests and over to it. Aunt Hilda was famous for her weak stomach.
    The countess huddled down amongst the fur covers. As Padar played his harp her eyelids closed. In sleep Gytha’s aged face relaxed and the lines of long years of care settled. For a moment, Thea glimpsed the fine-bred northern beauty her grandmother had once possessed. The water’s lapping; the oars’ plash; the murmuring of the night breeze and the strains of Padar’s music contrived to shift Thea’s thoughts to dwarf kingdoms under the mountains. She imagined caves along which rivers twisted through pillars of ice. Gradually, her own eyelids closed as she, too, was lulled into sleep by the skald’s melodies and the gentle rhythm of the dragon ship as it ploughed through the sea. She pulled her sheepskin closer and drifted into the territory of uneasy dreams.

2
    The Prince’s band can pull
    Their oars straight out of the sea.
    Viking Poetry of Love and War , collected by Judith Jesch, 2013
    Thea’s eyes shot open. A grey dawn light was seeping into the sky. She sensed a shifting of bodies. Her bladder ached. There was nothing for it. She would have to use the makeshift privy and, no doubt, she must soon help Grandmother Gytha to it as well. Aunt Hilda was fast asleep on the other side of her grandmother. She leaned forward and peered at her gently snoring aunt. Thankfully, her colour still retained a soft bloom.
    Thea stood unsteadily and lowered herself to crawl over the other women and around their children who were curled up in sleep. The boat was moving so fast it felt as if they were racing away from somewhere or something, rather than keeping the steady pace it had held during the night. Thea crawled past the sleepers and tried to grab the wooden rail running around the dragon ship’s sides. She stumbled as the ship seemed to jolt. Righting herself and looking up, she saw Padar above in the mast calling out to Godwin on the other ship. Godwin called something incomprehensible back.
    She steadied herself and leaned against the ship wall. Edging along it slowly, she managed to reach the bucket. With great difficulty, she squatted down behind a curtain that had been hung like a tent from a hook projecting from the stern. The bucket stank of foul odours, of vomit and excrement both.
    Moments later she rose and allowed her gown to fall around her ankles again. Despite the ship’s roll she managed to extract a ball of lavender that hung from her belt along with her needle-purse and scissors. Trying hard to get the lid back on the bucket with one hand, the lavender ball in the other clutched to her nose, she managed to elbow away the coarse curtain. A moment later she had tripped over, falling into the arms of one of Edmund’s helmeted house coerls. His sword scabbard dug into her thighs.
    â€˜Sweet Mary, let me free,’ she cried out.
    â€˜What, my lady, taking the Virgin’s name …’
    â€˜Move your great leather-clad hulk now.’
    â€˜Steady, my lady, steady now. Get back with the other women.’
    An arrow hissed past her to bury itself in the ship’s wall.
    â€˜That is a warning,’ he added. ‘It was meant to miss its mark. You women are more valuable as slaves than dead. Next time we might not be so lucky. Keep down and take a look.’
    She twisted her head around to see a ship with two black sails gliding out of an inlet, fast catching them up. A crescent moon was painted on one of them.
    â€˜Normans?’ she said.
    â€˜No, Moorish pirates come into our waters from the south.’ He tightened his grip on her arm. ‘Go back. None of us are safe. They’ll be looking for captives