Freyas Saga Ch. 17

I wanted him. He was content, I think. Was he? What did he want, if not me?

Did he want anything? Was he really so pure as to have wanted nothing?

Did he keep his desires from me because he kept them from himself?

She found herself, some time later, staring at the wood of the table, her empty mug in her hand.

She realised that she'd been sitting in brooding silence while the conversation went on around her.

She grabbed a bit of bread from the bowl on the table and munched it. Even after eating, she was still hungry. A boy went by with a tray of beers, and she tapped him on the arm and pointed to her empty mug. He nodded.

She turned back to the table. Michael was smiling at her.

"You are lost in thought, Britomart," he said.

"A bad habit," she said, smiling.

"Not so," he said. "Women are given as much reason as men."

"But bad to get lost in thought," she said, "when there's good cheer to be had, and stories to hear."

"And music for dancing?" he said.

"And music for dancing," she said.

"Wisdom, indeed," he said, and turned to the musicians. "Hey! Alf! Neil, Cait! Quit blurring your faculties with ale, and give us another tune!"

One of the musicians, hefting his lute, flipped him an obscene gesture. The woman amongst them, who was handsome and had grey hair swept back in a tail tied behind her head, looked amused.

"What about Anni?" she said. "It's her turn. We played for ages."

"Oh," said Michael, "you'd wake her up? Because our Anni does love to be awoken before her time."

Cait laughed and held up her palms in a pacifying gesture.

"We'll play," she said, "we'll play. If you'll only moisten our throats, for we're full of thirst."

"If you play," he said, "it's more than your throat I'll moisten, Cait Uaneen," and he winked at her. Cait laughed.

"You're a filthy-minded sawbones, Michael Derbhle," she said, and she picked up her flute and put it to her lips.

The music started again, with a lift that gladdened Carfryn's heart. The boy came by and put her beer down on the table, and she handed him some coins and drank, and let the music unwind her.

She felt herself slowly easing. The presence of the swordsman a few feet down the bench seemed less important when there was a table full of people who were happy to meet them, happy to listen to them, happy to play to them.

The Wild has skewed the way I see things. I have been used to thinking the worst of people. And yet, if you place folk in a land where they know each other and can trust each other, see how much pleasure they can take in each other's company.

Of course, Hargest is such a place. One where people are not divided against each other by pride or greed, but welcome each other and strive for the betterment of all.

Except that there are some there who do not. For they took my brother and violated him.

And who, in fact, can have found Siegfa where he lay, and not have wondered at what happened to him?

"You seem lost in thought again, Britomart," said Michael.

Carfryn looked up and smiled.

"Habit is habit," she said.

"What is losing you?"

She paused.

"One who I love," she said, "was dealt a grave injustice, and I do not know who did it, or why."

"What was it?" he said.

"Please," she said, holding up a hand, "do not ask me. I would not want to chill the warmth of your good cheer by my tale."

"It sounds bad."

"It was. Please, tell me a tale of your own. At the moment I would sooner forget my own troubles."

"Well, you are a woman of secrets, but I will not force you."

Owyn got up from the table and went out to the yard. He stood in the cool evening air, pissing against the moss-stained wall, and the young farmhand came out next to him and opened his breeches and added his own stream.

"True what they say," he said cheerfully. "Don't buy beer, you rent it."

"It's good beer," said Owyn, feeling he ought to strive to be polite.

"Nice to 'ave some strangers in," he said. "New faces."

Owyn was silent.

"Hey, she's a fine lass, your mistress," said the farmhand.

Owyn did not respond.

"Don't suppose she likes to give a bit of joy to the common man, does she?" the young man grinned. "Just wondering."

Owyn carefully finished pissing, put his cock away, buttoned himself shut and wiped his hands with a kerchief from his pocket, before replying.

"No," he said. "She does not."

"Well," said the young man, "maybe she could be persuaded."

"Hm," said Owyn, and rubbed his chin. "Up to you, mate. But if you want to be a father someday, you'll leave her alone."

The farmhand stuffed his own cock back in his breeches, his face pink from the beer and from the threat.

"Want her for yourself, I reckon," he muttered, and then went pale as Owyn's knife touched his throat.

"That lass," said Owyn in a level voice, "has lived through a world of shit the last few days. I'm not going to go into details, but she's had more than enough from the hands of men. Treat her with respect, or I'll cut your cock off and fuck you with it."

The farmhand stared at him, terrified. Owyn paused, then put the knife away and clapped the lad on the shoulder and smiled.

"Probably just as well you already had a piss, eh," he said.

The farmhand gave a ghastly squeak of a laugh, and Owyn broadened his smile, and the young man relaxed, just slightly.

"Sorry," he said in a small voice, "didn't mean to be rude."

"Of course not," said Owyn. "I know you didn't. Just letting you know how things are."

"Who did it?" said the farmhand after a pause.

"Three blokes," said Owyn. "Back in the wild."

He could see the farmhand thinking about this, and wincing.

"You know who they are?"

"Yeah. Two of 'em are dead."

"You kill them?" said the farmhand. Owyn waggled his head.

"More of a joint effort."

"What about the third?" said the farmhand. "You gonna make him pay, too?"

"Oh yeah," said Owyn. "He knows what he did and he'll suffer for it."

"Good," said the farmhand.

"One thing, though," said Owyn. "Don't talk about this inside. It's not nice."

"No, no," said the farmhand. "Don't worry. I hear anyone wants to try it on with her, I'll tell him, hands off."

"Good lad," said Owyn.

They went back inside.

***

Carfryn had been listening to the stories around the table but like a pendulum coming to rest, she kept being drawn back to her own thoughts.

What can have happened? Siegfa went to see his own lord, then Ulf, to ask about Freya, and hours later he was dead. Surely someone must have asked how it came to be? He had been violated, too. Hargest would never let such an outrage go unpunished.

Even if nobody drew the connection between Siegfa's death and his accusations about Ulf, and who knew about them? Siegfa, Ulf, Erik and me? Erik is a good man, but with a thick skull, and Ulf would never have told anyone - even if nobody drew the connection, what of the outrage committed upon a knight? Did no-one wonder why I left? Did no-one think that I feared for my life?

Surely, even now, they must be trying to find out what happened. And I know what happened, even if I do not know who attacked Siegfa.

I am the only one who can bring some illumination to the matter.

My duty is clear.

I must return to Hargest and talk to the baron, and lay this matter out.

She felt immeasurably weary.

God, if I had not spent these weeks washing away my sorrows with ale, I would have seen this sooner. I will have to tell what happened to me. It will be humiliating, but I have been stupid and I nursed and petted my sorrow rather than seek justice for my brother. I am paying for that, and I will go on paying.

But first, I have business to settle.

She turned and looked at Owyn, who had a fresh beer and who was watching the musicians. He caught her eye. She beckoned with her head, and she got up, limped her way through the tables and went out to the yard.

Outside, she climbed over the wall, gasping from her wounded leg, and went a little distance away so that she was standing on the slope of the hill behind the inn. She saw Owyn's dark figure emerge from the inn and waited as he climbed up the slope and joined her.

"I have made a decision," she said.

"Very well," he said.

"I want you to take us to Hargest. I need to find out what happened to my brother. When we get there, you may go. I will release you from your contract."

He was silent.

"Do you approve?" she said.

"What do you care what I think?" he said.

"I do not have time to argue," she said. "I am done with rebuking you and calling on you to atone. You have behaved as though you are sincere in your repentance, and beyond that, I do not care."

"But I said I'd protect you," he said.

"Swordsman," she said, "enough. It is not fair, do you not see that? It is cruel of you, and unfair, to insist that I help you atone for what you did to me, because I tell you now, you never can. I will never forgive you. I will never like you. If you want to atone for what you did, do it for someone else, because I refuse to accept that I should be the one to tell you that you have redeemed yourself. Because, because, fuck you, Owyn Durberry, and your guilt, and your self-loathing, and your need for me to tell you that I forgive you. I will not. Not ever."

They stood in silence, then she breathed out heavily, the wave of anger subsiding.

"There," she said. "That is the last I will say on the subject, because if you would offer me your

protection on the journey to Hargest, I would accept it. When we arrive safe, if we do so, I will consider your obligation to me discharged. I have kin there and I have friends there, and they will see me safe. And you will be free to go, and to be someone else's knight and protector. Because it is not fair of you to insist that you be mine."

He stared at the ground for a long moment.

"No," he said at last. "It's not."

"Thank you for seeing this my way. Now, would you please fetch Dovid, because he needs to be told what happened to my brother."

"You think that's a good idea?" he said.

"I don't know," she said, "but he must find out sooner or later, and I would tell him myself."

"As you wish," he said, and went down the hill again to the inn.

She stood there in the windy darkness, spots of rain falling, and hugged her jacket to herself.

Presently, two dark figures appeared against the pale rear wall of the inn, and they came up the hill towards her. Her eyes used to the light, Carfryn saw Dovid's beard and nodded to him. He nodded politely in return.

"I am sorry to bring you out here in the cold and dark, sir," she said. "There is something I need to tell you, and I do not wish to say it in the company of everyone in the parlour."

"I see," he said.

She held her hands folded before her.

God, it was hard. But she had to face it. She had to let him know.

"Have you never wondered," she said slowly, "why I was lingering in the inn where we met?"

"No," he said.

She was startled.

"Really, sir?" she said. "An unmarried maiden of gentle birth, spending her days and nights drinking herself to a stupor in an inn in the midst of the wild? You never wondered what circumstance brought me there?"

"No," he said.

"How could you not have been curious?" she asked.

"You are a person of the word," he said. "I assumed that people like you do that kind of thing all the time."

She fought back her temper.

"I assure you, sir," she said icily, "among my people, not all unmarried maidens of gentle birth spend weeks on end toping in far-off inns. Truth be told, it is unheard of."

"Ah," he said.

"It was a dire fate indeed, that brought me there."

"If you say so," he said.

Carfryn paused.

"Very well," she said. "Since you seem so uninterested in my reasons for doing what I did, I assume I need not apologise for them. I will tell you why I was drinking in that inn. I grew up with my twin brother in Hargest, in the north. From an early age, I conceived an impure love for him, which I did not, however, confess to him. Nevertheless, although we two grew to our majority together and lived in the closest intimacy, I always dreamed that he would one day be my husband, and have children by me. He was a knight of the king, and he went on a mission with Freya Aelfrethe to rescue some of our womenfolk who had been abducted. The mission went badly and Freya was killed, or so it was reported. My brother -"

Dovid slapped her in the face, brutally hard. She blinked, stunned, and saw stars. Her face was numb for a moment, and then the pain came. She refocused her vision to see him staring at her, outraged.

He opened his mouth to speak, and then Owyn punched him in the face, and he went flying and lay still on the ground.

She turned to him.

"What in the name of god did you do that for?!" she said, furious. Owyn looked at her as if she were mad.

"What the fuck?" he said. "He slapped you in the face!"

"Of course he slapped me in the face!" she said. "He's a bookman! He probably thinks me worse than the lowest whore!"

"I was defending you!"

"For god's sake!" she said. "He's just found out that he has helped and sheltered one who has committed one of the most unforgivable sins in his Book! I am surprised he did not hit me sooner."

She put her hand to her lip and tasted the blood.

"Somebody hits you, I hit them," said Owyn.

"Oh, wonderful," she said. "My sword and shield. When you are not hitting me, or worse."

"Hey," he said, "you've chewed all the juice out of that one."

"Look," she said, "go and see if he's not dead, and if not, wake him up."

"Fuck this," Owyn muttered, and knelt down by the prostrate Dovid. A whiff of liquor later, and Owyn was helping Dovid to his feet.

"You," said Dovid, looking dazed, but still shaking his finger at Carfryn. "You."

"Let me finish," she said.

"You are a deceiver," he said.

"A dissembler, perhaps," she said. "May I please finish my story?"

He paused, staring at her with what even in the night and the wind she could perceive was loathing.

"Go on," he muttered.

"So," she said, "my brother doubted the official story of what had happened to Freya Aelfrethe, and began to make his own enquiries. I supported and advised him. One night he was summoned from the bed we shared -"

Dovid made a wordless exclamation of disgust.

"From the bed we shared," she went on, "to meet with someone who could tell him more about what had happened on the mission. I had a foreboding, and begged him not to go. He saw, then, for the first time, the true nature of my love for him, which I know was sinful and wrong, and being a better person than I am, he rejected me and told me to think on my sins."

"He was right," said Dovid.

"I know," she said. "I did not repent of my sins, though, but lay in bed feeling sorry for myself. When he did not return for a long time, I went in search of him, and I found him, in a stable."

Dovid was silent.

"He was naked," Carfryn said with an effort. "He had been grossly violated, by I think more than one man. He had his sword in his hand. When he saw me, he killed himself."

They stood there for a moment, the wind whipping through the stiff grass.

"I dressed myself in his gear," she said quietly, "and I rode out of Hargest the same night. Truly, I do not know why I did not stay and call the guard or the baron. But I did not. I fled. I tried to end my life, but I could not do that either. I ended up in the inn, where we met."

She looked at him. He avoided her gaze.

"Now you know who I am, Dovid Berman," she said. "Now you know my sins."

Dovid stood there, grasping his own chin, wrestling with his thoughts.

"What happened to you at the inn," he said, finally, "and what happened to your brother in the stable, are the worst kind of outrage. But your passion for your brother is a grievous sin, even if it was not consummated. I have already put myself out for you, much, much farther than my faith allows. I already have much penance to do over missing my offices on your account. I am sorry, woman of the word, but even to sit at the same table as you, taints me."

"Hang on," said Owyn. "She didn't even tell her brother about it. He only found out the night he died. All things considered, I think the young lady's behaved with extreme restraint."

"Even to desire intimate congress with one's sibling," said Dovid, "even to imagine it, is one of the worst of sins. I am sorry. I can no longer sit with you at table. I must find other travelling companions."

"I understand," she said, "and if you can find it in your heart to apologise for striking me just now, I can assure you that if you will accompany me as far as Hargest, I can repay you in full for all the generosity you have shown me."

Dovid froze, and looked left and right but never at her, as if he now considered her poison.

"I do apologise for striking you," he said. "I was weak, and my anger overcame me. Please, there is no need to repay me."

"But I wish to," she said.

"No," he said, turning away. "Please. No. Keep your money. I can no longer travel with you."

He walked down the hill and went back inside the inn.

"Well, then," said Owyn.

She sighed.

"So it must be," she said. "We shall stay here this one night, and he will find other travelling companions in the morning, and you will escort me to Hargest yourself."

"Fine," said Owyn.

They stood there for a moment.

"I'm going back in," he said, and went back down the hill.

Carfryn remained where she was.

When I left Hargest, she thought, I imagined I would make a great sacrifice of myself, known only to god and my brother and myself. I imagined folk finding my body and wondering what sorrow could have drawn the pale northern girl to commit self-murder. I imagined strangers weeping over my death.

I little imagined I would be standing on a hill in the middle of the night with two strange men knowing my secret, one my violator, hateful to me but whose services I cannot do without, and the other who lost all his sympathy for me the moment he learned I had sinned.

A parody of a tragedy.

But there is home, and there are people at home who must miss me, and who must want to know what became of me.

So I will go home, and there I will find out the truth.

Carfryn limped back down the hill, clambered over the wall and went in.

***

Inside it was as merry as ever, and the smiles on the faces of those at her table as they saw her approach, helped to lift her heart from the sorrow she felt at Dovid's rejection. Then they saw her bruised face and bleeding lip.

"In god's name, girl, what happened?" said the apple-cheeked young woman, and glanced suspiciously at Owyn.

"It is nothing," said Carfryn. "I stumbled in the dark, and fell. Utter foolishness."

"Really?" said Michael, glancing at Dovid, who had sat down at a different table and who was examining his Book.

"In truth," Carfryn said. "Please, I know how it looks, but this was my fault. Too much of your landlord's excellent ale."

"You can never have too much," said Michael, and pointed to her empty mug and smiled expectantly. She nodded. He called over the potboy and ordered another round.

The sleeping girl suddenly sat bolt upright and opened wide her dark eyes. Carfryn was struck by her beauty; she looked like she had southland blood in her, with her long dark hair and tanned face.

She smiled blearily at the room in general. There was an immediate cheer of "Anni!" from the table.

"What happened?" she said. "I was asleep."

"You've not missed much," said Michael. "Just some strangers arrived."