To Serve and Submit by Susan Wright

Author:Susan Wright
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781429552714
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2011-01-19T18:54:51.379469+00:00

When we reached the outskirts of Tillfallvik, it was still dark, but I could feel sunrise was near. Silveta futilely tried dabbing at the blood on her scratched-up legs. She was miserable wearing nothing but her short chemise, but only the animals saw us slink through the muddy lanes.

We arrived at a snug wooden home and, with a knock on the door, we were quickly drawn into a kitchen lit by the coals in the hearth. A gnarled old man spoke with Silveta while two women sobbed on a bench. They were so overcome that they barely spared a glance at our scanty clothes.

“My son was killed in the fighting. His body is still on the estate.” The old man spat on the dirt floor in fury. “It’s said that Birgir holds you hostage and that he will marry you in the morn.”

“I will never wed Birgir Barfoot,” Silveta swore. “He cannot become chieftain.”

“There’s plenty who agree with you.” With a sour glance at the two mourning women, the old man said, “You’ll need to go to Torgils’ house. They’ve gathered there.”

Silveta didn’t like it, but we had another dash through town as the old man took us along the narrow alleyways down to a house near the waterfront.

Torgils’ longhouse was large and filled with men lounging and sleeping in various positions on the ledges along the walls. Some of those still awake were heatedly discussing their plans for the morrow. The olfs followed us right inside. They hovered near the sod ceiling, one drifting down to tease the baby that lay in a basket by the fire. A woman was hunched over the hearth in the center of the hall, trying to warm herself.

Silveta was greeted with glad cries, and her embarrassment was banished when the woman quickly fetched her a skirt to wear. I squatted down near the baby, watching it bat its hands through the olf. Young children always liked to do that.

“So this is the Vidaris lass,” Torgils declared. “We heard she tried to kill Birgir at your behest.”

I was taken aback when all the folk turned to stare at me.

“Not at my behest, though I wish she had killed him,” Silveta grumbled. “Then we would not be faced with this mess. Does Birgir hold the estate?”

“Yes, and we have the waterfront.” Torgils sat on the table made of rough-hewn planks. “Boats have been sent to summon the magnates who are loyal to Ejegod. Birgir’s warriors will hear of what happened and return. The merchants have already started boarding up their storerooms, expecting looting and fighting.”

“I can’t stay here,” Silveta decided.

“If Birgir marries you, then his claim will be hard to dispute.”

“I seek blood vengeance against Birgir Barfoot,” Silveta declared. “I must get to my father in Hop. He can convince the overlord to help me.”

“We need good fighting men to wrest Birgir from your estate. A dead man can’t claim the chieftaincy. And what about her?” Torgils asked, gesturing to me.

Silveta considered me. “Birgir would tear her from limb to limb if she’s discovered.

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