Free Hearts Aflame by Johanna Lindsey Page A

that Eartha was no longer threatened. “What is amiss?” Hunfrith demanded.
    “The young lad will not let me tend his wound,” Eartha complained.
    Hunfrith looked for explanation to Thorolf, who stated plainly, “Is mending. Leave alone.”
    Hunfrith grunted, then glowered at Eartha for causing them all to panic. “Aye, if he can jump up the way he did, he needs not your skills, old woman.”
    “The covering should be changed,” Eartha insisted. “’Tis all bloodied.”
    “Leave off, I said. Tend those who want it. Leave the rest alone.” But to Thorolf he added, “Warn your friend there to keep his hands to himself from now on.”
    Hunfrith was obviously not willing to make an issue of it when so many Vikings were ready to come to theboy’s defense. But Eartha did not like it and moved off grumbling that the lad was too girlish by half. One of the Saxons commented that mayhap that was why the Vikings brought him along, and they left laughing among themselves.
    Kristen’s cheeks had blushed brightly at the remark. When Thorolf noticed and asked why, she shook her head, blushing more. He meant only to tease her, detaining her to insist she tell him, because it was so rarely that Kristen was ever embarrassed. But she slapped his hand away and angrily sat down, giving him her back.
    From that position her eyes wandered over the hall, and she could see that a man stood watching them from an upstairs window. His face was in shadow so she could not guess who he was, but it made her uncomfortable to know that others besides the guards could watch them. She had only been concerned with the guards’ positions whenever she had spoken to Thorolf or the others. She would have to be more careful now, knowing that anyone from the hall could also be spying on them.
    They were fed after Eartha left, and those of them who had lost their boots because they were new or of a fine quality, got them back, though they couldn’t put them on over the chains. This situation was rectified later that afternoon, when the blacksmith came to them.
    The iron bands on their ankles were removed and replaced with new ones, these with a short chain permanently welded on each set. The bands snapped on and were held firm, but there was a keyhole on each one to remove them, though there was no sight of the key around. An iron ring at the back of each band allowed for a longer chain to slide through. This chain was only twenty feet long, and once it was threaded through the ring on each man’s foot and then the ends locked together, their circle around the tall post became muchnarrower, making the positions they could assume extremely limited.
    Kristen was disgusted with this new precaution taken against them. She supposed the long chain would be removed when they were made to work, but the short chain between her ankles would only allow for short steps, certainly nothing hurried, and she could imagine all of them stumbling and falling as they got used to having to practically hobble as they walked. It would be degrading, but that was probably how the Saxons intended it.
    Like the others, Kristen had gotten her boots back, though the fur trimming had been ripped away. But at least they kept the irons from chafing against her bare skin. The bands were tight, however, and would no doubt wear through the soft-skinned boots eventually. Since her ankles were so much slimmer than the others’, the blacksmith had had to send for a special pair of irons for her, smaller ones that she could only imagine were made for a boy much shorter than she.
    It rained that night, and left out in the open as they were, they were all made miserable by the deluge. Kristen was the most wretched, for she tried futilely to protect her bloodied bandage from being washed clean. Thorolf finally laughed at her efforts and helped by wrapping his own arms about her head and lying partially on top of her. This kept her bandage dry, but made for a very uncomfortable night.
    From