Page 53 of Haakon's Fate
Haakon skewered her with a sharp look. “Be warned. I will always catch you, Saxon.”
You’re mine now, he might as well have said. And she didn’t feel like protesting.
“We shall make a slight detour to go buy some food in town, enough to last the rest of the journey. I’m not risking depending on someone’s generosity again.”
She could only agree it was for the best.
They found everything they needed in town and set off again after a hearty meal at the local tavern. Not being certain that Osberga had indeed gone to Matilda’s village or how long she had taken to walk there, they were in no hurry. They reachedtheir destination when the sun had already started its descent toward the horizon.
Having lived all her life in a town, Gytha had imagined all villages would be like the one where the Norsemen lived, neat and well maintained. This one was anything but.
Even though it was summer, the ground was a veritable mire, it had obviously not been raked and flattened in some years, miserable-looking chickens were wandering around, leaving feathers everywhere and many a hut was falling apart. The one they were told belonged to Gundulf was the worst of all. It looked as if it would collapse on itself as soon as you opened the door propping it up. As they drew nearer, the buzzing of flies started to hum in her ears. Judging from this and the noxious fumes reaching her nose, a decaying animal corpse was not far.
Lord, what was this place? She shivered.
When they saw the man in the vegetable patch, attempting to dig up a hole, Gytha could not repress another shudder. It was not just his graceless face that made her flesh crawl, it was the state of his clothes, which had likely not been washed in months, and the way he moved, as if he’d just emptied a whole cask of mead.
She watched, disgusted, as he let out a loud burp and spat on the ground, barely missing his own feet. How had Matilda ended up married to such a man? The poor woman had given them the impression that she had been forced to marry the farmer, and Gytha could well believe it. No woman of sense would choose to live in such appalling conditions with such a man. Well, at least now she had found happiness with Inga. If she could be reunited with her daughter, her life would be complete.
Was the little girl even now inside the hut? Gytha didn’t know whether to wish it or not.
“Are you Gundulf?” Haakon asked, coming forward.
“Yes.” There was diffidence in that word.
“We are here to ask you some questions about a little girl called Osberga and her mother, Matilda. I believe you know them?”
Gytha could tell Gundulf would have denied it, but there was no contravening a man like Haakon. He nodded. “To say that I know the girl would be a bit of an exaggeration but the woman, aye, I know her. She is married to me.”
Interesting. He hadn’t specified that she was no longer in the village. Had she not known Matilda had fled, Gytha might have assumed all was well in their marriage. But she did know that the opposite was true.
“Look, I’m busy. Why are you here?”
“We know you do not wish to raise another man’s child,” she answered in Haakon’s stead, deciding it was best to intervene. The man seemed loath to talk to a Norseman, even one who spoke his language perfectly. Perhaps she would fare better. “But the farm where you left Osberga was burned to the ground a few months ago. Now she and the other children have nowhere to go. We were wondering if you knew what happened to them. Did someone come to tell you about the accident, ask what you wanted to do with her?”
She doubted it, but now that they were here, they had to get the man talking. Something useful might come out of their conversation.
He snorted, confirming her suspicions. “Do you really think they would come all the way here to give me news of a girl I wanted to be rid of? They are not fools, like you, who have come for nothing. What is it to you where the brat is in any case? She’s nothing to you.”
“We befriended her while she was at the farm, and?—”
“I was not really asking. I don’t care about her or you. Just leave me alone.”
Haakon tensed when the man glared at Gytha. Immediately, he adjusted his own stance. This could turn dangerous in the blink of an eye. Gundulf was still holding his spade. If he gave the slightest hint he wanted to hurt her with it, he would find himself with his face smashed in.
“As to my wife,” the Saxon spat before Gytha could say anything else, “she’s not here either. She left a few months ago, leaving me to see to my needs myself. If ever I get my hand on that bitch, I will?—”
“You will nothing.”
This time Haakon took a step forward, interrupting the foul declaration. By the gods, he had guessed from what Matilda had said that the man was vile but this was taking it to another level. He exchanged a glance with Gytha and saw that she agreed with him. They had come all the way here for nothing. The Saxon didn’t know anything. And even if he had been able to help, he would have chosen not to.
By now, as could have been expected, their conversation had attracted the attention of some of the villagers. A few men were loitering in the distance, doing their best to hear what was being said without seeming to pay attention. An old woman was standing by the well. She, by contrast, was not even trying to hide her interest.
“Why would you want to find Matilda anyway?” Gundulf shouted, uncaring what those people might hear or think. “Do you want to fuck her, Norseman, is that it? I wouldn’t bother. She has no idea how to give a man pleasure.”
“No. But I wager she knows how to give a woman pleasure.”
This reply stunned the man. “What the hell does that mean?”
