He left me shaking there as he went to the group of men standing near the torch stuck in the ground. They were talking and laughing, wrapped up in bearskins against the morning cold.
I reached up and touched the burn that was now scalded above my shoulder, trying to make out my surroundings. It looked maybe an hour before dawn, but the stars were still strung out across the sky, colors dancing behind the trees to the north.
The first sound of a cart made me stand up straight, pulling against the rope to see down the path, where a caravan came around the trail between two large, jagged boulders. The last cart pulled a line of cattle behind it. I knew what was happening as soon as I saw the Riki greet each other. These were the traders from Ljós. The stone in my chest grew heavier. They were going to trade me.
The village was still dark and quiet, the sunlight only just beginning to creep up the sky. Iri couldn’t know. Or maybe he’d changed his mind and decided to let them get rid of me.
My eyes went back to the caravan, trying to gauge my chances. I looked down to my feet, buried in the snow. The deep ache of cold was already pulsing up my legs. I couldn’t take them without weapons and I couldn’t outrun them barefoot. I sorted through every scenario in my mind, searching for an alternative. But there was nothing. No chance.
Two more dyrs were brought out and tied to the trees behind me, probably Riki criminals. The woman stared off into the forest, her face blank, and the man shifted on his feet as goats bleated beside me, reaching their noses over the railing of their pen toward my trembling hands.
Another group came down the trail to join the men already gathered. They spread out as the light lifted, starting at the far end and making their way down the line of trees to see the goods that had been laid out for trade.
Including me.
I kept my eyes on the ground, the voice in my head saying everything I didn’t want to believe. I was going to be dragged into the forest and dumped in some Riki mountain village as a dyr. I would never see the fjord again. I would never see my father. Myra. Not in this life or the next. My heart broke inside of me. The hope of getting home seemed so foolish now, eaten up by my anguish.
All because of Iri.
Boots stopped in the snow in front of me, and a deep laugh rang out. “She’s a little thing, isn’t she?”
The burn in my face scorched like a summer sun. The leather of his armor vest stretched as he rocked back and forth on his heels, clicking his tongue before his shadow moved on the snow.
Two more Riki stopped in front of me and I pinned my eyes to my feet, refusing to look up.
“How much for her?” one of them called back to the torches.
“Four penningr,” a man shouted back.
I could feel myself sinking deeper into the snow. It was the same price I’d paid for the goat we sacrificed the night I saw Iri. I tried to blink back the flare in my eyes. It was a cruel joke. Like Sigr was looking down on me and laughing. He had to be.
The two Riki moved on, taking more interest in the livestock than in me, and a man bigger than the others stopped before me.
“What’s wrong with her?” He flung a hand toward my shoulder.
The old man who’d come to look at me in the barn came to stand next to him. “Injured from battle.”
“She’s Aska?”
“That’s right. Not much good for work right now, but she’ll heal before the thaw.”
My hands balled into tight fists. I wanted to reach up and strangle him with the rope. I wanted to watch the light leave his wrinkle-framed eyes.
The big man stepped closer as the old man walked away. “Turn around.”
I took a step back. “What?”
His hand shot out, snatching me by my bruised jaw, and he yanked me forward until the collar choked me, putting his face close to mine. I knew what he was going to do before he did it. His fingers caught me behind the knee and he ran his hand up the inside of my leg. I pressed myself against the rough bark of the tree but he moved with me, letting his body push against mine.
“Get off me,” I growled through my teeth.
A smile pulled at his lips behind his bushy beard. He flung me around, turning me to face the tree, and pushed me into it, his eyes falling down the back of my body like a hot iron. “You’re coming with me.” The words rode on a laugh.
He let go of me and the shaking stopped, my body filled with the hot fever of hatred that flowed through my veins when I swung my axe and sword beside Myra in battle. An injured arm wouldn’t keep me from driving a blade into this man’s gut.
He walked back to the torches and I wondered if I’d ever seen him. If I’d ever killed anyone he loved. The breath filled my chest, my eyes narrowing. It wouldn’t take long to find an opportunity to kill him. When I did, the others would kill me.
But that would be alright. Sigr might see honor in that.
The collar pulled around my neck and I flinched, turning to see Fiske standing on the other side of the tree. His armor vest was loosely thrown over him, the laces of his boots undone. The length of the rope was wrapped around his fist and he pulled me forward.
“What are you doing?” I jerked against the rope.
He didn’t look at me, turning back toward the village and pulling me with him. “I just paid for you.”
A voice shouted behind us.
“Don’t turn around.” Fiske kept walking.
Arguing echoed between the trees, but it died down as we walked and slowly turned into laughing. I glanced back and Fiske yanked the rope.
“I said don’t turn around.”
The first sliver of sun peeked over the pines as I hobbled behind him, the pain in my frozen feet now shooting up my legs in spasms. We rounded the bend in the path where the snow was melting into the mud and the Riki working outside their homes turned their heads, watching me. Fiske didn’t look at them, his eyes forward as he led me down the middle of the village back toward the small empty barn they were holding me in. He was cleaned of the grime from battle, half of his hair pulled up into a knot and the rest falling down on top of the orange fox fur on his shoulders.
He stopped and I bit down hard to keep my teeth from chattering together as he opened the door and pulled out his knife. He cut the rope from my collar and stood to the side. “Go ahead.”
I stepped past him into the barn, and stood, shivering with my arms wrapped around myself. The cut on his ear from where I threw my blade at him was still red, scabbed over beneath his hair.
His eyes dropped down to my feet and he cursed under his breath. He took the pile of wood from the table and started the fire before he pulled a stool from the wall and set it beside the pit. I sat down, pulling as close to the heat as I could and setting my feet up on the warmed stone circling the flames. They were pale and numb, aching, but probably not frostbitten.
Fiske dropped a bearskin beside me as I massaged my legs with my hands to summon the warmth back into them. I sat, staring into the fire and feeling its heat against the tears running down my face.
“How did you know I was out there?” I steadied my voice.
He looked like he didn’t want to answer. “I heard you screaming. In the blacksmith’s tent.”
I closed my eyes and swallowed, thinking about the way I’d cried and begged the night they pulled the arrow from my shoulder. I had never begged for anything in my life. The humiliation of it seared hotter than the infection in my shoulder or the burn on my neck. His pity cut into me, bleeding me of my pride.
“I’ve agreed to keep you until the thaw.” His voice filled the empty space when he finally spoke.
“Keep me?” My words were ice.
“If you run, I’m not coming after you. You’ll die out there within a day. Maybe two.”
“Where are we?”
“Fela.”
I’d heard of it. It was only one of several Riki villages on the mountain. “I’ll take you to my home tomorrow.”
I sniffed. “Is that where Iri lives?”
He hesitated. “Yes, and our family doesn’t know anything about you. If you want to stay alive, it needs to stay that way.”
“Why didn’t Iri buy me?”