Sigrun's Secret (13 page)

When the following morning came, Asgrim had still not come back from whatever haunts he frequented at night. Father was forced to sail without him, taking four of our other crew members from home, and leaving his most trusted man, Erik, with a handful of younger men to guard our boat.

‘Take care, Sigrun,’ he said, kissing me on the forehead. ‘I’m very sorry to leave you alone here so soon, and with your brother misbehaving too. But you’ll be more comfortable here than on the ship. Leif has said he will look out for you while we are gone, and Erik will too, of course. Take care.’

I hugged my father tight. I was sick with fear for my brother and dreaded being left alone. I had to bite my lip to stop myself begging father not to leave me.

Leif went to the quay to help ready the ship. I followed them all to the end of the street, watched until they were out of sight and then went back into the empty house. Thrang’s two servants were out and I was all alone for almost the first time in my life. I sank down on the floor beside the empty fireplace and felt the loneliness fill me, draining away all my strength and purpose.

I was still sitting there, outwardly idle, but inwardly seething with emotion, when Leif returned. He came into the room and stood awkwardly by the door, shifting from one foot to the other. I summoned up a wan smile.

‘So … it’s just the two of us, then,’ Leif said.

‘Yes.’ I nodded. I felt embarrassed, and so did Leif.

He cleared his throat. ‘I’ll be out a great deal … on business, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘That’s why I stayed behind and why my father was grateful for Bjorn’s help. But I’m free this morning, if you would like to … Bjorn said you might like to look at the stalls with … with medicinal plants.’

‘That’s kind of you, but you must have a great deal to do,’ I said quickly. It occurred to me that my father had left me no money at all.

‘Then what will you do this morning?’ asked Leif, troubled at my refusal.

‘I … ’ I paused, unable to think what I might find to do. I had no mending to occupy myself with, there was no loom in Thrang’s house. I had the new fabric but no needles or thread to make it up. There were no animals to tend.

‘I really have no idea,’ I confessed, trying to hide my sudden desire to cry. ‘I know no one and my usual occupations are the chores of a farm.’

Leif smiled. ‘Come with me then,’ he said. ‘If you buy some plants, you can busy yourself preparing them. Your father has given me a purse of money for you: he’d meant to give it to you himself but forgot.’

‘Oh, in that case … Thank you! I need needles and threads to make my new dress too,’ I admitted. I got to my feet, glad after all not to be left alone all day. ‘Will you help me bargain?’

‘Of course,’ said Leif cheerfully. ‘I’ll get you the best prices anyone could.’

We stepped out into the busy streets and the heat, dust, and smells of the city enveloped me like a cloud. Every fibre of my being longed for the fresh, clean air of home. That feeling lasted all the way through the crowded, noisy streets. This was the fourth time I had walked along them and I felt that no matter how long I stayed in this place, they would never become comfortable or familiar.

The herb market, however, put all such thoughts out of my mind. The stalls were crowded, but when I saw the wares they had on offer, I lost all my shyness and fear in excitement. ‘Cloves!’ I gasped. ‘Mother used her last over a year ago and no one has brought any so far north!’ I rushed forward to touch the prickly brown sticks. ‘And ginger! And here is … oh, it must be lavender, and … rosemary!’

I heard Leif chuckle beside me, and realized I was behaving like an over-excited child. I smiled and blushed. ‘How much money did father leave for me?’

‘Enough to buy several stalls full of goods, I imagine,’ he replied. Overhearing this, the trader became very attentive, and ignored all other customers to serve me.

I missed my mother now. There were many plants and roots that were unfamiliar to me that she might have known. I was used to gathering and drying the native plants, but I’d never seen such variety as this. I began selecting items, listening to the advice and suggestions of the trader.

‘This is valerian,’ he said, offering me a shrivelled-looking root. ‘You’ll want some of this.’

Valerian, for inducing sleep. I’d heard of it, but never seen it till now. I added it to my growing pile. Elder and willow bark too, for reducing fever. I also chose garlic, which smelled unpleasantly strong, but I was told was a good purge and tonic, as well as beneficial in fighting infection. I added hollyhock: a cure for coughs, or so the trader said.

When my selection was complete, Leif began to bargain. He haggled fiercely, but so did the trader. The sums of money meant nothing to me. I watched Leif count out several coins, at last, and a couple of pieces that looked as though they were parts of coins. Then the treasure trove of medicinal plants was mine, wrapped into a parcel and tied neatly for me to carry home. I knew my mother would give a great deal for these; she’d felt the lack of many of them in recent years.

I looked up at Leif as we walked away. ‘Did that cost a great deal?’

‘A little more than I expected,’ said Leif with a grin. ‘But you aren’t yet bankrupt.’

We bought needles and threads and then headed home by a different route. One street we walked down had a very different kind of sale going on: groups of men, women, and children tied by the wrists and ankles being looked over by Norse men and Saxons. I caught my breath. Helgi kept a few slaves: I’d known them all my life and they were part of his family. But I’d never seen this trade in human beings. There was a look of hopelessness in their eyes that cut me deeply. Worse than that was the fear and sadness I felt from them. I tried to shut it out, but it was too strong. It came over me in waves, weighing me down.

Everything my father criticized in the practice of keeping slaves came back to me. It all made sense when I saw this. The humiliation of having your mouth forced open and your teeth examined, as if you were a cow or a horse. One little boy was crying as he was looked over. I wondered where his parents were. Had he been snatched away from them? Had my father once been sold in the busy street like these poor souls? His story, so recently revealed to me, made this sight unbearably poignant; far more so than it would have been just a few short months ago. As I watched, money changed hands, and the boy was led away. The man who took him looked ordinary enough, and I prayed he’d be kind.

If only I could buy them all myself, and set them free. But there were so many. And most were probably out of reach of their homeland, without friends or family in Jorvik. What would they do? My steps lagged, as I watched. I felt desperately guilty I was doing nothing.

‘Are you thinking of buying a slave?’ asked Leif as he noticed the direction of my gaze. I shook my head in silence, and stared at my feet, ashamed of my own inability to help.

Around the next corner was a tight press of people. We moved more and more slowly and eventually came to a halt, our way forward blocked by the crowd.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked Leif, who was standing on his toes, looking over the crowd. I wasn’t tall enough to see a thing.

‘I can’t quite see, oh … it looks like a fight,’ said Leif.

‘A fight?’ I asked, taken aback. ‘In the street? Isn’t someone going to stop it?’

Leif shrugged. ‘Most people will see it as good entertainment. It could have been a bet or a challenge.’

‘I see,’ I said uneasily. I could hear shouting and whistling in the crowd and realized some were cheering the combatants on.

‘This could take a long time to clear,’ said Leif, after waiting impatiently for some moments, as the shouting and cheering grew louder. ‘Follow me.’ So saying, he began to weave through the crowd, bearing across to the right hand side of the street. I tried to follow, but I wasn’t used to pushing through crowds.

I got further and further behind, and began to be afraid that I would lose Leif altogether. Just then the crowd surged back, and I was almost knocked off my feet in the press. I began to panic, feeling I couldn’t breathe. Some of the men and women around me smelled so bad, I couldn’t imagine when they had last taken a bath. It was obvious that they neither observed the weekly washing day, nor took care of their teeth. To my relief, Leif reappeared just ahead of me. He reached out and grasped my hand, pulling me through the crowd after him. I hurried as best I could, for even I, inexperienced in city life as I was, could tell the mood around us was growing ugly.

Clinging tightly to Leif’s hand, I felt the press of people lessen. The air was cooler, I could breathe again, and then we were out of the crowd, making our way down an almost empty alley between two lines of tall dwelling houses. Leif knew the city well and had found a way that avoided crowds.

‘Thank the gods,’ I exclaimed, drawing deep breaths of air into my lungs.

‘You hate the crowds, don’t you?’ said Leif.

I thought how very kind and understanding his smile was. ‘I’ve never experienced them before,’ I said by way of excuse. ‘I never went to market with my father. He took my brother sometimes, but never me.’

‘Didn’t you go anywhere at all?’ asked Leif curiously. We were walking swiftly now. I realized that he was still holding my hand, and withdrew it from his with a blush.

‘No. I’d never left our bay until now, except to nurse a neighbouring family or deliver a baby. We’re very spread out. Each family needs a lot of space to farm. The soil is thin and the climate very harsh. It’s not warm like here.’

‘You don’t make it sound very appealing,’ said Leif.

‘Oh, but it is,’ I hastened to assure him. ‘It’s wonderful, it’s—’

At that moment a horse burst out of a side street, much too fast, narrowly missing us. It was sweating and rolling its eyes, its hooves pounding the street. I cried out with fright and ducked. The horse wheeled sharply to avoid us and for a moment everything was noise and confusion. Then a slight, dark-haired girl fell heavily to the ground beside me. With a cry, I rushed to help her. She lay in the dust, barefoot and dressed in rags, her face streaked with dirt and tears and a livid bruise across one cheekbone.

‘Are you hurt?’ I asked, dropping to my knees beside her.

To my horror I saw why she’d fallen: she was bound tightly by the wrists. My eyes followed the rope to see the other end was held by the man on the horse: a stocky man with a huge, neglected beard and long, dirty hair. He yanked hard on the rope, dragging the girl upright. She struggled to her feet and stood trembling and swaying.

‘Damn you, Maria!’ the man shouted, and to my horror, he raised a stick he held in one hand to strike her.

‘Don’t!’ I cried, scrambling up and throwing myself between them. The stick whistled through the air right by me, narrowly missing my arm.

‘Get out of my way, girl!’ shouted the man angrily. ‘Unless you want a beating too!’

‘You mustn’t strike her!’ I cried, beside myself, putting my arms around the girl. She was so thin, I could feel all her bones. ‘She’s already hurt!’

‘She’s a troublesome, runaway slave! I can do what I like,’ he shouted angrily. ‘I can kill her if I choose. How dare you interfere?’

‘Sigrun,’ said Leif urgently. He was trying to draw me away, one hand on my sleeve. I pulled away. I’d walked past the other slaves helplessly, but this was too much. I looked at the girl. There was such a heart-rending look in her dark, liquid eyes; a surge of her helplessness and despair swept across me. But I sensed the man’s mood too; he was angry and vicious. He started upbraiding me in a coarse but unfamiliar tongue. I understood enough to know he was insulting me, but couldn’t catch the words. I felt his cruelty, and knew that the girl was going to be made to suffer.

‘Sigrun, you can’t interfere,’ said Leif again. ‘She’s his slave. Don’t anger him.’

I felt rage at Leif’s cowardice. He should support me, not advise me to look the other way. I knew my father wouldn’t do so, and nor, I was certain, would Ingvar. I shrugged Leif’s hand off my arm for the second time.

‘If she’s a troublesome slave, then perhaps she’s for sale?’ I asked the horseman.

A crafty look crept into the man’s eyes. My heart sank as I sensed his greed outpace his anger. ‘She cost me a great deal of money,’ he told me in heavily-accented Norse. ‘She was a gift for my niece.’

‘Sigrun, please come away,’ Leif begged. ‘You’re making a scene.’

‘I want nine silver marks for her,’ said the horseman. ‘Or I’ll be sorely out of pocket.’

I looked at Leif. ‘How much is left in my father’s purse?’

Leif gasped with shock. ‘Nowhere near that much! She’s not worth it either.’

I felt daunted. The man was dirty and unkempt, but he wasn’t poor. The fabric of his tunic was good quality, and he was astride a fine horse. He was probably used to driving a hard bargain.

I held out my hand for my father’s purse, and reluctantly, Leif gave it to me.

‘This is what I have. No more, no less. Will you take it?’

The man took the purse from me, weighed it briefly in a hand with ragged filthy fingernails, loosened the drawstring and glanced inside. Then he threw it in the dirt in front of me.

‘You’re wasting my time, Viking wench,’ he said angrily. He kicked his horse on, yanking at the rope that bound the girl, even though I stood barring his way.

I felt the girl’s despair. She didn’t say a word, nor did she look at me, but her anguish cut me like a knife. Did I have nothing else on me of any value? I had to save her from this fate.

‘Wait!’ I cried, catching the horse’s bridle and halting it again.

I only owned one item of value and it meant more to me than anyone could imagine. It had given me new powers, a new confidence. And it carried the precious memory of Ingvar. But was any talisman worth more than a life? With a wrench that tore at my heart, I unfastened my secret amulet from my neck. I held it out, the polished silver catching the summer sun. I prayed Ingvar would understand what I was doing and forgive me.

‘This is a powerful and valuable amulet,’ I said. ‘Will you take this in exchange for the girl?’