“Only if you want to get about in a wagon,” Erik grinned. “Many of the people in other parts of the land travel easily across the lakes and rivers when they are frozen. In some ways, it is easier to travel then.”
“But not for you,” Leopolda pointed out. “There is no sled big enough to carry all your goods.”
“No. But winter is still productive. I use it to make repairs to the wagon and create spare parts that I might need later in the season and if there is any time left over, I can make things to sell.”
“There is never an idle moment,” Leopolda agreed.
“I am not here to make small talk,” Erik said seriously, changing the subject. “I have something I wish to ask you.”
“Then ask.”
“On my next journey, I am hoping to find a young female slave that I saw at the markets at Fram Hváll. I wish to purchase her and set her free.”
“Has she captured your heart?” Leopolda asked knowingly.
Erik blushed. “I think not. But she is special and I saw her sold to a man that I know to be a cruel master. I wish to save her from a life of misery under his rule.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“I came to ask if she can lodge here with you, at least until she has time to decide what she wishes to do next.”
Leopolda looked at him thoughtfully. “Well, it is true that I live alone,” she said. “I have no sons to help me or care for me. The other villagers are good to me and I am not complaining,” she added hastily. “But I could use some help to grow my vegetables and make things to sell during the winter.”
“I can give you a small amount of money towards her keep,” Erik said. “Of course, there are many reasons why this plan might not come to life. I might not find her or she might not agree to it. But if it works, can she come here to stay with you?”
“Yes. I can take her in,” Leopolda decided. “What is her name?”
Erik hung his head. “I know not,” he admitted.
Leopolda was astonished. “Are you telling me that you are on this perilous mission to rescue a woman whose name you do not know?”
“That is the truth.”
Leopolda shook her head with a wry grin. “It is foolishness,” she said. “You must be in love with her to even think about it.”
Erik shook his head. “I know not what it is to be in love,” he said. “All I know is that this woman does not deserve to live with the owner that bought her. She is from Írland.”
Leopolda gasped. “This tale grows stranger by the moment,” she said. “A woman from Írland? Do you know if she even understands our tongue?”
“I know not how long she has been in our land,” Erik replied. “Perhaps we shall have to teach her.”
“This is an odd matter you have brought to my ears,” Leopolda said.
“One other thing I ask of you,” Erik said.
“What is that?”
“That you will tell no one of this tale until I return. It might put the woman’s life or mine in danger if the word spreads around.”
“I will tell no one,” Leopolda promised, but Erik wasn’t convinced.
“Leopolda!” he said sternly. “I really must have your word. It is important!”
She looked him in the eye. “I promise,” she said. “And because I am a Christian, it is important for me to keep my word. I will tell no one.”
Erik was satisfied. “Thank you,” he said. “I will see you when I return. I know not how long the journey will take but it will be some weeks before I am back.”
CHAPTER 9
Erik slowed the wagon as he drove towards the village of Aurvangr. What had Taft’s wife said? The farm had three large stones at the front but in this rocky landscape, spotting three particular stones was like trying to find three grains of sand on the beach.
Then he saw them, rising out of the land like giant sentinels. A faint trail wound around them and Erik felt sure that he had found Taft’s hiding place, far away from the rest of the world. He turned the horses onto the path, excitement pulsing through his veins. Would Taft recognize him and harm him? Would he find the red-haired woman?
He hadn’t gone far when he saw her. She was working in the field near the trail, raking cut grass to tie into bundles to feed the animals during the winter months. Erik was surprised; bed-slaves usually worked closer to home.
“Heill!” he greeted her.
She raised her head in surprise, her hands still on the rake. Erik jumped down from the wagon and walked towards her.
“Is this the farm belonging to Taft?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said in an unfamiliar accent. “Have you business with him?”
“It is his wife I wish to see,” Erik said. “I am here to show her my wares. We met at the marketplace at Fram Hváll.”
“I do not usually see the mistress,” the woman replied. “I cannot tell you if she will receive your call. But you can try.”
Erik wondered if she remembered seeing him at the markets. He decided to risk asking. “I remember you from the marketplace,” he said. “You were sold to Taft there, were you not?”
“I was,” she said. “I remember you. But why are you speaking to me? People do not usually speak to slaves.”
“I just wished to ask you about Taft’s wife,” Erik said easily. “What is your name? My name is Erik.”
“I am Tara,” she said, holding her head high.
Erik thought how beautiful she
