‘We don’t want any fuss now, do we?’ With his good hand he skirted the outline of her breast. Would Grunmir even care, for all his fine words, once the deed was done? The girl could tell that dried-up old battle hag all he needed to know whether she was a virgin or not.
She turned away from him, her face ridden with disgust, but that only spurred him on all the more. She was helpless before him, her body there for the taking, and not even her squeals of protest were enough to discourage him. ‘I know you forest creatures like to do it in the open, you don’t care who’s looking, do you? But you just relax and give Eber his due.’
‘And Grunmir would like that, I suppose?’ she managed in a tone that she hoped sounded defiant. She’d been through so much, but suddenly her disgust at this man had awoken her anger and given her energy. It coursed through her once more, so that she was able to twist away from him sharply, her face filled with loathing.
Men and women often went off together, that was the way of things, and if one of the hunters caught a girl at Kupala then of course she would lie with him. But this was something out of her comprehension. Suddenly she felt a deep hatred for the man. Lucky for him that her hands were tied, or else she would have gouged out his eyes for all her tiredness.
‘Why don’t I just call him now?’ she screeched. ‘And Fang can carve out your guts.’
There was an explosion of pain as he silenced her with a slap. But he was shaken, and some part of her was glad for that. So she still had some power over him.
Eder leaned back against the barrel and took out a short knife, which he used to cut at a strip of meat on a tiny wooden plate. He was used to only having the one hand, and the knife expertly sliced through the meat. He balanced a thin sliver on the blade and brought it up to his mouth as he tried to figure out the girl before him.
He hadn’t counted on such defiance. And she’d named Grunmir’s blade. How had she known that? He’d not told any of the other women. Suddenly he was afraid. What was this girl to the battle hag? Nothing, surely. But the suspicion remained in his mind. He’d have to be cautious. There would be time enough to whelp as many of these forest girls as he could later. And then he’d have his revenge on this slut. All he had to do was be careful. She’d not last long in Grunmir’s eyes, whatever she was to him, now. He’d be bound to forget her once she’d given him what he wanted.
‘Give me some water at least.’ She glanced at the skins hung from the tentpoles. Already a dull ache had begun to creep along her forearms from the strain of holding them up. ‘You heard what Grunmir said.’
‘I wouldn’t care much for you,’ Eber replied, ‘not once you’ve given Grunmir what he wants. You’ll sing a different tune then.’ With that he came over to her, his hands running up her skirts. He’d planned to bide his time, but that note of defiance in the girl’s voice was too much for him. Who was she to defy him? Not just her but the others too, that Alia and the rest who laughed at him. He’d done more than his share. ‘He said not to harm you, but there’s a lot I can do without harm and no thinking that Grunmir would mind.’
He pressed close, his hand running up between her legs as his anger mixed with his lust. ‘I can do anything much I want,’ he whispered. But maybe he was scared of Grunmir, for all his studied nonchalance, because he let her go. ‘Forest slut.’ He turned to go back to the barrel. ‘The leaves are more use than you.’ Then, without warning, he spun round, his fist catching the side of her face.
She’d no idea how long she was kept in the hut. She hadn’t eaten since the forest and drifted in and out of consciousness, with only the ache in her arms to keep her awake. She was vaguely aware that night had fallen and, sometimes, she imagined that she could hear a breath coming from the other side of the tarpaulin. Eber had gone to sleep, his body slumped against the side of the hut as he sat on the barrel, the scent of vodka all about him.
She watched as a spider crawled along the side of the spit. There it was again: that half breath on the other side of the hut. At first she thought it was her imagination, either that or Eber had started to snore, but no, there it was again.
‘Is there anybody there?’ she whispered, not daring to wake Eber. Silence. Then, very softly, someone moved.
‘So they have you,’ a voice said, so broken and weary that she hardly recognised it. ‘They told me that you were dead.’
‘Father!’ she cried and then fell abruptly silent as Eber’s snore cut short, but after a moment it resumed.
‘Though I almost wish that it was true; better to feast happy in the ancestor world than rot in a place like this.’
‘I came back for you.’ Now there was a glimmer of hope. If only he’d managed to stay out of the reach
