Madelyn Jane
ADA
“What is it that you plan to do with that sword, cailín?” His voice was deep, with an accent that reminded me of my mother.
“Only what you planned to do to me.”
“You think I would harm a woman?” he asked coyly as he started to move up onto his knees.
“That’s far enough. Stay where you are. I have no idea what you plan to do with me, but I am not about to find out.”
My words meant nothing to him. He kept moving, cautious of my position, until he was finally on his feet. It was hard to make out his face in the dark, but it was obvious he was much taller than me.
Even with his armor, I could see his shoulders were broad and strong; he had the advantage. I was still holding the sword out toward him as if it would actually protect me.
It was heavy and hard to keep up, and I was still out of breath and disoriented from being knocked to the ground. My odds weren’t good.
There would be no way for me to overpower this man. This called for a slight change in my plans. It was once again about survival.
“I think it would be wise for you to put the sword down and admit defeat,” the man said.
“I think it would be wise for you to bite your tongue. I am the one with the weapon here! I will dictate what happens from this point on.”
He paused for a moment, as if deciding what to do. “I do find this all very amusing… So, please, tell me what your demands are.”
“Let me go free. You may take my farm and whatever else you would like, but you will leave me a horse.”
“Cailín, your farm has already been taken. You don’t seem to have anything to offer. Maybe you would like to rethink your request.”
After a moment, he moved a little closer. “Whether you like it or not, you will be returning with me.”
“You cannot just let me leave?”
“Believe me, you have more of a chance living with me than you do out there. I don’t have much faith in your ability to live off the land and protect yourself from all the dangers that lie beyond your farm.”
“Do not mock me! You don’t know anything about my ability.”
“That’s true. I assume you are the one who caused the untimely death of the man in the house?”
“He deserved it…” My eyes began to well with tears and my hand started to shake. “That is why I cannot return with you… I’ve heard stories about what your men will do to me.
“Do you think I will go willingly from one prison to another? Be touched whenever, by whomever? I would rather die.”
This declaration seemed to stump him. He took a step back, as if thinking of an alternative to my capture.
I had separated the two hundred pieces of silver into four equal bags. One I kept in my satchel, and the others I had placed in the saddle bags. “I will pay you for my freedom.”
“Now that is an interesting proposition. And how much would that be?”
“Fifty pieces of silver—all I have. That’s more than men pay for slaves in these parts. It is a fair price.”
“And what is stopping me from just taking it from you?”
My hand tightened around the sword, and with the last bit of strength I had in my arm, I lifted it, chest-level, toward him.
Holding back my tears, I began to speak in my mother’s native tongue. There were only a few things my mother had shared with me about her Danish life prior to my birth.
“Your honor, and the fact that I am part Danish. This blood is the same as yours.
“Our people may think differently of your kind, they may believe you are nothing but heathens, but I know you are nothing without your honor.
“My mother told me many stories when I was younger.”
“Is that right? My honor…,” he answered, switching from Gaelic to Danish. He took another step closer to me. “How about this: your silver will secure your safety with me.
“You will work for me and you have my word no harm will come to you.”
This was the best offer I would receive. He knew it and I knew it. If living was my goal, accepting this offer would be my only chance. Over time, I knew I would gain his trust.
That was when I would make my escape. I would be better prepared the next time, and nothing would stop me.
“You will also teach me how to fight and survive on my own. I’m guessing that, by now, most of the people I relied on in town are either dead or enslaved. I will need these skills to survive.”
“Agreed.”
“Lastly,” I began. He obnoxiously exhaled at another one of my demands. “Neither you nor any of your men will have the privilege of lying with me.
“I am a hard worker and require very little attention. I shall not interfere with your affairs, but I will need your promise to protect me.”
“And what if the desire is mutual, cailín? Will my honor be diminished if you tempt ~me~?”
“Let me make this clear. It will never be mutual, and I will never intentionally tempt you.”
He laughed and stroked his face, thinking about all I had said. It would be cruel if he had let me go on this entire time if he had already decided to kill me.
“You have my word. You are claimed as my personal slave, and even if you beg me, I will not touch you. Now please hand over my sword and let us return to the warmth of the fire.”
He took the sword and my silver before returning to the horses. I followed behind him, the thought of running away still in my head.
Even though he had agreed to all my requests, only time would tell if he would keep his word. Until I knew for certain, I would request to wear my veil.
My beauty would be the greatest test to his honor. My mother’s voice resounded in my head, telling me to keep myself covered as long as I could.
“What is your name?” His voice broke the silence. I had been so deep in thought that I was startled by his question.
“Ada.”
“I am Cayden, son of Barra.”
These were names unfamiliar to me. My mother told me Viking warrior stories in my youth, but I assumed the men she once knew had all been killed in battle.
There was no other explanation for her refusal to speak about her past, or about why we did not live with other Danes. We mounted the animals and rode back to the farm in silence.
My nervousness returned as the lights from the house became visible. What if this man had no authority over the others? Even if he kept his word, what would stop these other men from touching me?
I followed Cayden to the stable, where I could now see his features in detail. He was tall, with a strong build.
His clothing was very different from anything the men wore in Kilcoran, with animal skin underneath his chest armor. His hair, tied back, was dark and worn much longer than any man I knew.
Cayden must have sensed my discernment because he looked at me. “Remember, cailín. No matter how much you beg, I shall not give in to you.”
My face grew hot and I was thankful it was mostly concealed by my veil. His face seemed to soften now that he was more relaxed, and I found it hard to look away from him.
Having led a relatively sheltered life here in Kilcoran, particularly on this farm, I was transfixed by his foreign features. He was younger than I had expected for a Viking warrior, probably only a few years older than me.
“I shall sleep here tonight,” I said.
“You think I would allow you to sleep out here with only the horses to keep an eye on you? I think not. Retrieve your things and come into the house. I will tell my men about our arrangement.”