Land of the Silver Dragon (14 page)

From somewhere, the women of the household had acquired hot water. Lots of it. I imagined a big fire burning, pots and pans set over the heat. I stood in the latrine room, and, behind the doors that closed it off from the passage leading into the main house, took off my stinking garments. One of the women – a young serving maid with a shy smile – instantly took them from me. In answer to my instinctive protest, she mimed washing.
She
was going to launder my clothes? I was aghast at the thought. It would be an unpleasant task, and I would far rather have done it myself. With a shake of her head, as if she understood my protest, she smiled again and hurried away.

Thyra and her companion – a girl of about ten – gave me a washcloth and a hard block of soap. Dirty as I was, I used it sparingly, for it was harsh. I had some soapwort leaves in my satchel; given the opportunity, I would boil some and prepare some of the gentle, foaming liquid that my people use for washing. Not that I was complaining about what they were offering me. Never before had I bathed in such generous amounts of hot water.

When at last I had finished, Thyra handed me a length of cloth to dry myself. Emerging from a vigorous rubbing of my hair, I saw that she was holding out garments for me. There was a fine linen under gown, and, to go over it, a long, pleated shift of soft wool, beautifully woven in a pattern of light and dark brown, highlighted with bands of cream. Over that, fastened to it just below the shoulders with two small silver brooches, went a long apron that hung down front and back, entirely covering the gown. It was a little like the scapular that my sister Elfritha wears over her habit, and, I guessed, served the same purpose of keeping the gown clean.

My hair was still damp, so I combed it out, twisted it in a knot and fastened it at the back of my head. Normally I would have covered it with one of my white caps, but the only one I had with me was probably even now being given a thorough wash by the little serving girl. The women of this house went bareheaded, and I would have to do the same.

Suddenly I remembered my shawl. When Elfritha gave it to me, she said it was to remind me of home and a sister who loved me. Hurriedly I opened my satchel and took it out, then draped it over the pleated shift. Elfritha had dyed the soft lambs' wool with shades of green, and the subtle colours looked well with the muted shades of the shift.

Thyra's eyes widened with interest. She took a fold of the shawl in her fingers, nodding in appreciation at the quality. Then, standing back to look at me, she said, ‘Good.
Very
good!'

Then, beckoning to me, she turned and led the way along the short passage to the main house.

I heard the voices and the laughter even as we emerged from the passage. In front of us was the entrance room, with the building's big, wooden door standing ajar. To our right was a wooden partition, and in it were double doors. Thyra opened them and led the way into the main hall.

A long fire pit extended down the middle of the room, and on either side of it were benches. Some were occupied, but in general the people in the hall were on their feet, busy with food preparation. It looked as if the household were getting ready for a big feast. Several vast pots hung over the fire pit, suspended on chains from heavy iron tripods, and, at a work table close by, a group of women with their sleeves rolled up kneaded, rolled, chopped and stirred. One looked up at me and gave me a grin.

At the far end of the fire, on a raised platform, was set a throne-like chair and several more, lower, chairs. The man in the fur-trimmed cloak sat on the throne. On his right sat the man I believed was Thyra's husband. On his left sat Einar. Another man sat beside Thyra's husband, talking quietly to the slim woman with white-blonde hair. Next to Einar sat a broad-shouldered, strong-looking woman with reddish-fair hair woven in a thick plait. Her light eyes were fixed on me. I could not read her expression; it was as if she had deliberately smoothed out her features so as not to give any clue to her thoughts.

Thyra took my hand and led me up to the dais. I made myself meet the eyes of the man in the cloak.

After a very long moment, he spoke. In a deep, resonant voice, he said, ‘Well met, Lassair.'
He knew my name
. ‘I am Thorfinn Ofnirsson, this is my farmstead, and these are my kinfolk.' He pointed to his right. ‘My elder son Jorund, Jorund's wife Thyra –' he indicated the woman beside me, his wide mouth stretching in a quick smile – ‘my daughter Asa and her husband, Njal.' He turned to his left. ‘My second son Einar you have already met. Beside him sits my second daughter, Freydis.' Now he raised his arms, spreading them to include the rest of the men, women and children in his hall. ‘These, too, are my people; my blood kin and those who serve us.' He paused, staring down at me from the dais. ‘Come and sit beside me,' he commanded. ‘You must—'

I'd had enough. I'd been abducted, borne away over the sea for nearly two weeks, then brought here, to this extraordinary place and the enforced company of people I'd never met in my life. I was quite sure I would be breaking some basic rule of courtesy, but I didn't let that hold me back. Drawing a deep breath, I marched right up to the dais, climbed on to it, and, standing over the man in the cloak, I said, loudly and firmly, ‘
No
. I will not sit beside you, or listen to one more word from you or anyone else, until you tell me why I have been brought here and what you want with me.' I paused, and swiftly all my grievances against this man and his family filled my mind. ‘Your son and his men grabbed me, tied me up and slung me aboard their ship,' I cried, the words tumbling out, ‘and they did it so cleverly that, to start with, nobody would realize I was gone, but I've been away so long that by now my friends and my family will be
really
worried about me, and my poor father will probably think I'm dead, and that will kill him too because he loves me very much and he'll be riddled with guilt and believe it's all his fault because he
knew
there was danger and he'll think he should have taken better care of me, and—'

Fear, panic, despair and misery had been flooding through me, but I'd been managing to control them. The thought of my beloved father, however, out of his mind with anxiety, going out every spare moment to waste his time searching for me, was my undoing. To my horror, I felt tears fill my eyes. In a voice that sounded more like a scream, I cried, ‘
I want to go home!
'

A sort of quiet groan echoed round the hall. As I'd feared, I had clearly done something very offensive. I hung my head, waiting for the reprisal. Would the man in the cloak – Thorfinn – have me forcibly removed? Would Einar leap to his feet and hit me again?

Nothing happened. I raised my head, to see Thorfinn study-ing me. Then, slowly, he nodded. ‘Please, come here,' he said again.

I looked at him. The skin of his face was leathery and creased and, although in that moment his expression was sombre, I judged by the lines that he smiled a lot and was given to laughter. I stared into his eyes, searching for the threat I dreaded to find.

I went on staring, for what felt like a very long time. He did nothing: he did not speak, did not move. It was as if he was silently saying:
Look all you like
.
I have nothing to hide.

My fear began to ebb away. I was still very apprehensive, and sick with worry about my family, but the sickening dread that these men were about to torture me to find out something I didn't know had, for the moment, almost gone. Every instinct – and I've learned to trust my instincts – was shouting out at me that this old man was not going to harm me, and I reasoned that, if he didn't want me hurt, nobody else would be allowed to do so either. Whoever and whatever he was, I appeared to be under his protection.

I went to sit in the chair beside him.

P
resently, the sons and daughters sitting beside Thorfinn began to drift away. It was approaching the middle of the day, and I imagined they all had tasks to do. Last to go was Einar. He turned to look back at me before he left, and I thought he was about to speak. Almost imperceptibly, Thorfinn shook his head. Einar spun on his heel and strode away.

Thorfinn looked down at me. ‘Just now, you asked me a couple of questions,' he said softly. ‘Understandably, you wish to be told why you have been brought here and what we want of you.' I opened my mouth to ask the questions again, but he put up a hand for silence. ‘Forgive me, my child,' he said. ‘It is natural that you want to know these things, and you have my word that all will be explained to you in due course.'
When?
I cried silently.
And how soon will they take me home again?

He nodded, as if he had heard. Then he said, ‘It is my habit, on such days as this, to eat but sparingly during the day, so as to have the best appetite for later.' I was right, then, about the feast. I wondered what they were celebrating, and how long into the night they'd go on carousing. I wouldn't be getting any sleep till they'd finished ... But he was still speaking, so I stopped feeling sorry for myself and listened. ‘It would please me if you would now eat with me,' he was saying, ‘and perhaps you will tell me about yourself?'

It wasn't
fair
! He had put off answering my questions, yet now he was expecting me to satisfy his curiosity! ‘Apparently you already know my name,' I said stiffly. ‘You also seem to know where I live, where my kinsfolk live, and the fact that I regularly travel to and fro between my village and Camb— er, a big town nearby.'

‘Cambridge,' Thorfinn murmured.

I barely heard. My anger rising again, I hissed, ‘Your son killed my sister's mother-in-law and my aunt! He came hunting for something, either on your instructions or on his own behalf, and he—'

‘Stop.' The single word, quietly spoken, had an instant effect: I felt as if the words lining up to tumble out of my mouth had been pushed back down my throat. ‘Have patience, Lassair,' he went on. ‘For now, do not speak of what you do not understand.'

I understand that my people have been killed, wounded and suffered the distress of having their homes ransacked!
I wanted to shout. But there was an unseen power emanating from the huge man beside me, and I did not dare.

Food was brought – flat bread, dried cod, pots of a cool, slightly sharp substance that I guessed was some sort of coagulated milk, and that proved to be delicious – and Thorfinn made sure I took my share. As we ate, he asked me about my village, about Cambridge, about my training as a healer. Although we only spoke in fairly general terms, I had the feeling he already knew much of what I was telling him.

It was very strange, and I still had absolutely no idea why he was interested in my kinsfolk and me, nor what it was he believed we possessed, and that he was going to such extraordinary lengths to find.

The food was all gone. Thorfinn sat quietly beside me. Suddenly I yawned, hugely and uncontrollably. Recalling where I was, belatedly I put a hand in front of my mouth and muttered an apology.

‘Would you like to sleep?' he asked. I nodded. Despite everything, I could hardly keep my eyes open.

Thorfinn beckoned, and one of the women busy preparing food came across to us, wiping her hands on her apron. He said something to her in their own tongue – thanks to my lessons with Olaf, I could pretty much understand the words – and, with a smile, she held out her hand to me. I got up, and she led me away.

We went on down the hall, then through a narrow doorway into another, smaller room. I remembered that, from the outside, the homestead looked like two buildings set end to end, so this must be the second one. There was a central hearth, and around it wide platforms set around the inside of the walls, strewn with furs and bedding. A group of four or five women sat together close to the hearth, quietly talking. They looked up, nodding to my companion and staring with interest at me. My companion led me to the far end of the room, indicating a cosy corner of the platform, tucked deep beneath the steeply sloping roof. She patted the heavy sheepskins spread out ready, miming sleep by putting her face down sideways on to her joined hands.

I needed no further invitation. I got up on to the platform, crawled inside the nest of sheepskins and curled up. I was aware of the woman's soft footfalls as she went back to the main hall, and of the gentle, murmuring voices of the women beside the hearth as they resumed their conversation. Then sleep took a firm hold of me, and that was that.

I woke to a babble of muted chatter, interspersed with bursts of laughter and a voice suddenly raised in song. There seemed to be a lot of people in the main hall, and it sounded as if the feast had begun. I looked up at the bit of sky visible through the smoke hole, and saw that it was deep, twilight blue.

I got up, carefully tidying the sheepskins, then straightened my borrowed gown. I smoothed back some loose strands of hair, retied my shawl, then crept across the room and along the short, narrow passage till I was standing in the doorway of the main hall.

Trestle tables had been set out, one each side of the fire pit and one up on the dais. People were seated, on benches and, up on the dais, on chairs. Thorfinn sat on his throne, his back to me. The food smells were wonderful, making my stomach growl. It seemed a long time since I had shared Thorfinn's light meal. I hoped they hadn't forgotten about me; perhaps someone – friendly Thyra, maybe – would bring me a platter of varied delicacies ...

A man's voice, deep and strong, rose up above the others. He was singing, and, from the shouts of male laughter and loud guffaws, I guessed it was a ribald song. It was ever the way, my Granny Cordeilla once informed me, to concentrate on the bawdy, light-hearted songs and tales before and during the feast.
When people's minds are on filling their bellies
, she used to say with a wicked grin,
it's no use trying to make them concentrate on some deep, serious and significant tale of the ancestors; save that for when they're replete, my girl, and you'll have their full attention.