“With most of our women it is also so,” Jarl said. “But not all. They are trained to fight as young girls, and as they grow older, many do not care for the danger and prefer to remain at home.” He paused, then added. “But with our people, it’s the woman’s choice...well, hers and her husband’s. Do none of your women ever want the same?”
Nena shook her head.
Jarl could tell the conversation was winding down. He didn’t want it to end. “That seems a great waste. Some of our women are even leaders.”
His last statement did not have the desired response of initiating further discussion. After her initial shock and search of his face to see if he was lying, Nena became silent, contemplating the new information.
THE NEXT MORNING Jarl was up and gone before first light. Nena could hear activity going on outside the tent in all directions. She could barely contain herself. When the tent flap next opened, it was not Jarl who returned, but two men she had never seen before. They propped open the tent flap, revealing an empty wagon parked outside. Without even seeming to notice her, they efficiently began to pack Jarl’s belongings. No move was wasted. No time was spent pondering the best way to fold something or what to pack together. Everything was tied in bundles or neatly fit into crates as if it had a predetermined place.
She evaluated each man closely as they moved about the tent. Her hopes rose even higher. The older one was stronger and more aware, but he moved stiff in his right shoulder. The younger one had no injury that she could determine, but glanced at her nervously whenever he had to walk near her, and averted his eyes quickly when she looked back at him. Neither would be a match for her. She waited, tense with anticipation. Soon, she would be the only thing remaining in the tent for them to move.
When the last bundle was stowed on the wagon, the two men remained outside talking under their breaths. The younger one cast an unsure glance at her, and they conferred again. Perhaps they were trying to decide which one was going to unchain her. Perhaps it would only be one of them. How fortunate for her that would be. She waited to see what they would decide. But instead of coming back inside, they gave her one final look, then moved from her view. She heard them untying some of the smaller support ropes on the outside of the tent. The canvas wall to her left sagged slightly. Nena wanted to scream with frustration. Were they not going to release her? Surely they weren’t going to just drop the tent around her ears.
She heard a horse’s hoof beats approaching and stretched to the end of her chain to gain a better view out of the tent opening. There were the reddish-brown and black legs of Jarl’s stallion, then Jarl’s boots as he dismounted. He said something to the two men, tied the horse’s reins to the wagon, and entered. He surveyed the empty tent with satisfaction before walking toward her.
“Don’t look so disappointed,” he said in response to her expression. “You didn’t really think I’d trust one of them to release you, did you?” Nena scowled at him, and he paused, reading her face. He chuckled. “Ah, you did.” He shook his head. “I know better. And I like them both far too much to subject them to that.”
Jarl unhooked the chain from the pole and started to lead her toward the door. “Remember to behave yourself, Princess,” he warned. “The furs may have already been packed, but I’m not above rolling around on the ground with you if you try anything.”
He untied the horse’s reins and led both the stallion and Nena half a dozen paces away from the tent. He pulled her closer to the horse and tied her hands off to the front of the saddle so he could watch the final step uninterrupted. The two men disappeared inside with long poles. The top of the tent jiggled and changed shape, then the men reappeared dragging the heavy center pole between them. They loaded it, splitting the wagon lengthwise down the middle, and while the older one lashed it down to keep it from rolling side to side, the younger man returned inside alone. Nena heard two quick tapping sounds, then he reappeared, racing back through the doorway. Within seconds, the tent collapsed to the ground with a whoosh of air from the opening, and the men began to roll it up.
Without waiting for them to finish, Jarl led Nena to the wagon and climbed into the back, tugging on her cuffs for her to follow him. He pointed for her to sit on one side of the pole, then produced a shorter length of chain from his pocket.
“You’ll be sitting, so you won’t need the extra length,” he explained as he replaced the longer chain on her shackles. “Besides, it would likely only get you into trouble.” After securing the new chain to the pole, he climbed down from wagon and smiled at her. “Comfortable?” he asked.
She glared at him and looked away.
He laughed.
Nena heard the squeak of leather as he remounted, then the sounds of the stallion’s hooves moving away. She jerked the cuffs in frustration. She had hoped to be free of the pole for the move, yet here she sat, as secure as ever. And this shorter piece of chain didn’t even allow her enough length to wrap around someone’s neck.
One such someone appeared at that very moment. Altene watched as her own belongings were stowed, then took her
