Brendan waited until she was out of earshot and Taft was ahead of them, trying to calm the new horse he’d bought. It was proving to be flighty. “Do not be concerned about Gunilla,” he whispered. “She is jealous because her husband has bought a bed-slave. I understand that he has never bought female slaves in the past and Gunilla has had him all to herself.”
Tara shuddered. Brendan had just confirmed what she suspected would be her fate: the cruel-looking man who had bought her intended to use her for his pleasure. Her despair must have shown on her face because Brendan cast her a sympathetic look a moment before Taft swore loudly as the horse shied at an overhanging tree limb.
Brendan’s face wore the faintest grin. “That horse may prove to be your best friend,” he whispered. “It is keeping him so busy that he will be unable to pay you any attention.”
Tara returned the faint smile, happy to have an ally, even if only for the journey. After that, she assumed that she would see little of Brendan and Haskell. They would be put to work on the farm while she would probably be assigned household duties. She shuddered as she imagined being forced to share Taft’s bed. She had never been with a man before and had no idea how she should please one. Her mother had only seen fit to give those instructions to her daughters the night before they were to marry; it was considered a sin among her people to be intimate with a man before marriage and improper for young ladies to know such things before they needed to. Now, her innocence may well prove to be her downfall. She dared a glance at the spiteful features of Gunilla. Her brow was creased in a permanent scowl and her mouth looked pinched and mean. Tara was certain that she would be a formidable enemy and there was nothing she could do about it. She had not chosen to be bought by Taft to be his bed-slave; she had no desire to steal his attention or affections from Gunilla. Not that Gunilla would ever believe that. She would forever hate Tara simply because of her role in the household, considering her to be a threat. Tara was afraid; she was certain that Gunilla would be a dangerous foe.
CHAPTER 7
“We are nearing the end of our journey,” Haskell whispered. “I heard them mention Aurvangr. I know the area quite well and we are not far from there. I am sure we will soon reach our destination.”
Tara opened her mouth to ask him if he recognized any landmarks but before she could get the words out, there was a yell ahead of surprise as three runaway sheep suddenly darted across the road, right in front of Taft’s horse. Instantly, it reared on its hind legs with a scream of terror before bolting into a maddened gallop. Caught by surprise, Taft was thrown from the saddle; one of his feet caught in the stirrup as the horse leapt forwards. Undeterred, the horse hurtled across the rocky landscape, dragging Taft by one foot.
Tara watched in horror as Taft’s body bounced and jarred, his head unprotected. Finally, his foot came free and he lay still, some distance from the shocked and horrified onlookers. The horse continued its crazed charge and was soon lost to view among the large boulders that littered the landscape.
“Get him!” screeched Gunilla, sitting at the front of the cart while Holger drove.
Holger sprang into action. Tara watched as the leading servant sprinted towards the still form of Taft, lying with his leg beneath him at an awkward angle. Gunilla followed at a jog. Brendan and Haskell looked at each other. Should they go over to help? Brendan made up his mind.
“Let us see if there is anything we can do,” he said to Haskell. “They will need help to carry him from where he is lying.”
The two slaves made their way over to where Gunilla and Holger bent over Taft. Holger looked up as they approached.
“He is alive,” he said. “We will need to get him into the cart so we can take him home. We can bring the cart a little closer but there are too many rocks to get it to here.” He looked at Haskell. “Can you bring the cart a little closer?” he asked.
“I will go get it,” Haskell said, and set off to the cart where Tara was holding the horses, speaking softly to them and rubbing their noses to calm them down. They had also been alarmed by the sheep and by the crazy behavior of their new stablemate.
“It is a good thing you have them,” Haskell said. “They were also alarmed and ready to run away. The mistress has asked us to bring the cart over as close as we can get it. The master is alive but he is badly injured.”
“Will he survive?” Tara asked.
“I know not,” replied Haskell gravely. “But we cannot leave him in a field of stones, no matter if he is dead or not.”
The men spent time considering the best way to lift Taft into the cart, finally deciding to carefully slide him onto a blanket. He was unconscious but when they straightened out his broken leg, he moaned. Then two of them got the corners of the blanket at his head and Gunilla joined Brendan in lifting the corners of the blanket at his feet. They moved slowly and carefully until they reached the cart. Placing him on the ground beside it, they tied ropes to the corners of the blanket. Then Gunilla and Brendan got into the cart while Haskell and Holger, the two tallest, stood beside him. Each person took a rope and started to pull, slowly raising Taft
