Free Fires of Winter by Johanna Lindsey Page B

“I will.” She walked to the opening which led to the cooking area and the stairs. “Janie, come here.”
    A moment later, a tiny young woman dressed in a rough woolen shift appeared. “Mistress?”
    “Janie, take this girl with you. Bathe her, feed her, then put her to bed in the master’s chamber—for now. Later I will decide where to put her permanently.”
    “Yea, mistress,” the woman answered, looking curiously at Brenna.
    “Now, Ogden, if you will take this girl up to Garrick’s chamber and watch her until a slave comes to guard her, I would be grateful.”
     
    For Brenna, the week slipped by like the flight of a butterfly, ever so slowly. She had no awareness of time. The room she was kept in was large and cold, with no windows, and two doors that remained closed. Her anger reached an unholy state when she was tied to the large bed in her room after the first day, for the haughty Yarmille decided it was a waste of manpower for a slave to guard her.
    Brenna was untied from the bed only to eat, bathe and relieve herself, but at these times a male slave accompanied Janie, though he was left outside the room. For the first two days Brenna refused to eat, knocking the tray of food to the floor in a burst of rage. She finally spoke, screaming curses of the devil that made Janie turn pale and sent her fleeing from the room, leaving the young male slave to tie Brenna to the bed. She fought and cursed him, too, but could do little with her wrists still bound.
    After the third day, Brenna felt weak from lack of food and began to eat again, though grudgingly. She continued to be withdrawn, and ignored Janie when the girl came. The two meals she received daily were widely spaced. One was served before Janie began her duties; the other after she was finished for the day. During this long interval, Brenna was frustrated nearly to tears with her inability to move; her fury was not helped by her hunger, which grew as the day wore on.
    She felt guilty, then maddened, because she was such a burden to poor Janie, who had to wait on her. She knew the girl worked hard the whole day long, and since Brenna’s arrival toiled even harder. Janie had kind words for her in the morning, but by the end of the day she was exhausted and as silent as Brenna. Brenna could hardly blame the girl for her abruptness at the day’s end. Though she had yet to make any overtures to Janie, she felt pity for her, an unusual emotion for Brenna.
    Janie spoke Brenna’s tongue, but had also, by necessity, taught herself Norwegian. She had not mastered it fully yet, but knew enough to understand her orders without having to receive a beating. Brenna assumed Janie had also been taken captive, though how long ago she couldn’t guess and wouldn’t ask, for she resented the girl even though she knew Janie was only following Yarmille’s orders that Brenna be kept bound. That her own fate was destined to be the same as Janie’s was a certainty. She could never adjust to a life of servitude—she knew that. She would deal with that when the time came. If only it would come and she would be released!
    Her thoughts turned to Garrick Haardrad—once her betrothed, now her master. She had often wondered about him in the past. She knew that he was young, having seen but twenty-five winters. That he had not married yet was her misfortune, for it drew Fergus to his clan to arrange a wedding that was never meant to be. She also knew now, after listening to his brother Hugh, that for some reason he hated women. This she could count as a blessing, she hoped. It might mean that he would leave her be, or he might cruelly mistreat her. She prayed for the first possibility, that his hatred would make him shun her. But if it was the other way, what then? Bound as she was now, she would be completely at his mercy. Beaten, unable to protect herself, perhaps killed. Damn Yarmille for her precautions!
    After a week, Heloise came as promised. Brenna recognized her voice and