Lord of Raven's Peak - Catherine Coulter [71]
“Rolf came home from raiding along the mighty Seine River. He brought with him twelve slaves, six men and six women, all of them captured from the three small villages having the misfortune to sit too close to the river.
“One of the male slaves was a man as proud and strong as were the Viking warriors who had managed to capture him. He’d been unlucky and the warriors knew it. He’d been ill and still he’d fought them until he’d collapsed with the wounds and the illness within his body. He was dressed more finely than the others captured, and all the warriors knew that as well. But whoever he was, what his real name was, none knew and he wouldn’t say anything. He was also a man with talent—in short, he was a runemaster—but more than that, he was a scion of a proud family that had much wealth and power in that region of France. He’d just chanced to be in the village that fateful day because he was visiting an artisan from whom he wished to learn new methods to perfect his skill.
“But now he was a slave, just like the others. Rolf knew value when he saw it and kept him close. He made the man his runemaster and was astonished with the beautiful carvings the man accomplished along with his fashioning of magnificent writ. Visitors heard of the runemaster and visited Rolf from far and wide. Radnor, the second brother, tried to buy the slave from his brother, but Rolf refused.
“Ah, but the silver the slave gained from the visitors who came to Rolf’s longhouse. He carved them magnificent chair posts, intricate designs on jewelry and on jewel boxes. He became renowned. Soon, he had as much silver as he thought he needed to buy himself from Rolf and thus regain his freedom.
“He offered all his silver to Rolf, but Rolf refused. He allowed the slave to keep all his silver, but he said he wouldn’t sell him. He told the slave he admired him, he wanted him to be content in his new home, in his new land.
“He didn’t abuse the slave. Some of his men wondered if it was friendship he felt toward the slave or whether he was afraid the slave would gullet him, for he was, as you know already, a valiant fighter and now he was back to his full strength.
“The slave held his peace until finally he could bear it no longer. Rolf assured him that whatever he wished to tell him he would keep in confidence; he vowed it on his honor. The slave wasn’t stupid, but when Rolf told him if the truth meant he might lose him, then so be it. He was to trust him. The slave was still uncertain, but he leapt at the chance of going home. So he told Rolf who he was, told him that his family was powerful and wealthy and he was the heir and he asked Rolf to stand as his friend, as he’d just professed himself to be, and help him regain his proper station in life.
“Rolf clasped the slave to him and told him to trust him, that aye, he was indeed his friend. He told him he would most assuredly assist him to return to his home. Now, the question is, what did Rolf do?”
Laren paused, then looked at Olaf Thoragasson. “My lord,” she said, bowing toward him, “what would you have done were you Rolf?”
Olaf Thoragasson leaned forward in his chair. He looked at his men, at the group of slaves who were clustered near the doors of the longhouse. He said loudly, “I would flay the flesh from the man’s back for such insolence! It means nothing to make a vow to a slave, less than nothing, despite his claims, despite his skills. Aye, Rolf should chain the beggar and let him starve until he declares his allegiance is to Rolf and to no one else!”
He sat back in his chair and his men cheered. Some of the Malverne people cheered as well, but not all.
Laren turned to Erik. “My lord, what would