Free Hearts Aflame by Johanna Lindsey

now.
    “His name?” Royce asked as he looked Ohthere over.
    “Ohthere Haardrad,” replied Thorolf.
    “Very well. Tell Ohthere Haardrad that I have been persuaded to leniency. I cannot let you go, but I will feed and shelter you if you are willing to serve me. I need a stone wall built around this manor. If you choose not to work, you will not be fed. ’Tis that simple.”
    Rather than request the Saxon to repeat his words slowly, Thorolf said, “Talk,” indicating his comrades.
    Royce nodded. “By all means, confer.”
    Thorolf called the men into a huddle, but only as an excuse to drag Kristen into the center of it, where no one could see her talking. “Thor’s teeth! What was all that about, Kristen?”
    She was grinning from ear to ear. “He is not going to kill us. He wants us to build his stone wall instead.”

    “Nay, I will not sweat for the bastard!”
    “Then you will starve,” Kristen retorted. “His conditions were clear. We work for our food and shelter.”
    “As slaves!”
    “Do not be fools!” she hissed. “This will buy us time to escape.”
    “Aye, and mend,” Ohthere agreed. “Tell him now, Thorolf. No use making him think there are those of us not eager to accept his terms.”
    Thorolf stood up this time and called Royce back to him. “The chains?” he questioned first.
    “They stay. Do not think I am foolish enough to trust any of you.”
    Thorolf grinned slowly, nodding. The Saxon was wise, but he did not reckon on Vikings well mended and fed and determined to escape.

Chapter Ten
    A n old woman came among them to tend their wounds. She was dirty and unkempt, wearing the tight, long-sleeved undergown called the chainse, with the shorter sleeveless gown over it unbelted, making it look like a sack. She walked very straight for her age, and said her name was Eartha. Her disposition was that of someone who had lived all the years she wanted to, and so she was bold and saucy and fearless, as if she cared not what consequences her actions might bring her.
    Kristen was amused by her and wary of her at the same time. She watched Eartha push and poke the men around, men that were like giants beside her small frame, and laugh at their grumbling or sharp words. She was wary because she knew Eartha would come to her eventually, wanting to see her supposed head wound, which she could not allow.
    Kristen was not in the best of moods, either, because of the heat, which none of them were used to. Many of the men had torn away most of their leggings, but much as she wanted to do the same, she knew she dared not. She would have pitied Eartha wearing her two gowns, and no doubt a shift under them, too, except that the heat seemed not to bother her at all. But then, the Saxons would naturally be used to it.
    Eartha finished with Ivarr and squatted down next to Kristen, indicating that she should tell her where besides the head wound she was hurt, assuming that she was because of the numerous bloodstains covering her. Kristen simply shook her head. In response, Eartha reached for the head bandage. Kristen slapped her hand away, only to have her own hand slapped in return. When Eartha tried again to remove the bandage, Kristen jumped to her feet, towering over the little woman now, and hoping that her stature would dissuade the nurse. It did not. She had to catch Eartha’s wrists and hold them firm to keep the woman’s hands away from her head. For this she felt the point of a sword pressed into her side.
    Several other Vikings stood, and the Saxon guard who had come to Eartha’s defense stepped away. He was intimidated enough to call immediately for help.
    Kristen groaned, seeing what she had caused, though it couldn’t be helped. Seven Saxons were running toward them with drawn swords. She glared at Eartha for being so stubborn, then released her. It was Thorolf who stopped the old woman now, pulling Kristen behind him.
    Fortunately, the Saxons hesitated when they reached the prisoners, seeing