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He heard them before he saw them, Fiona’s quiet tone and the other, lower voice of her beloved Taranc.

They were seated on the ground, their backs against the trunk of a huge pine that shielded them from his view.

Neither could they see him. Ulfric approached in silence, listening to their conversation as he did so.

“Why did we not wed? We could have, years ago…” Fiona sounded sad, her voice laced with regret.

“Aye, but we were not suited.”

“We were betrothed. Our families considered us suited.”

“You were in no greater hurry that I was, but I suppose we would have married, eventually.”

“If we had…”

“It would have made no difference. The Vikings would have still come, we would have been taken. He would have wanted you, taken you for his own.”

“I would not have been a virgin.”

“Did he hurt you?” The Celt’s tone was sharp suddenly.

Fiona waited a few seconds before she gave her answer. “No, he did not. He was gentle, I suppose. As much as he could be.”

“Good. That is good, and as I would have expected. He does not appear to be a man given to unnecessary cruelty.”

“Perhaps not, but we are still slaves here, treated as property and that is a sin. We should find a way to escape.”

“Hush, little warrior. You were ever one to rush in without thinking. I suspect were you not, you at least would still be tending your father’s hearth in Pennglas.”

The man was not wrong on that score. Ulfric stood in silence, waiting to hear her response.

“And you were always the one to stop, to think and to plan. Are you planning now, Taranc?”

“Of course.”

“Tell me.”

“I will, but first I wish to hear about you, about your Viking. Is he kind to you?”

“I suppose?—”

“Other than in his bed. We shall come to that soon enough. Are you happy living in his household?”

“Ulfric is kind to me, and to the rest of the thralls too. His sister hates me and I avoid her at all costs. Ulfric will not permit her to beat me, but she will do all in her power to convince him to do so.”

“And does he? Beat you?”

“Once or twice, with a switch. It was… not so bad and after, he… he…”

“You find pleasure with him, sweetheart? Is that what you are trying to tell me?”

“I could not help it. He is very… compelling.”

Taranc laughed. “Fiona, if your Viking pleasures you to take the sting out of a spanking, then that is a good thing. A rare enough thing, in my view and it shows that he cares for you.”

“He does not. As far as he is concerned I am just a wench to fuck, worthless to him in all other ways. He said so, to Brynhild, soon after he brought me here.”

“Those were the words he used?”

“Aye, more or less exactly. I overheard him.”

“A strange thing for him to say. It seems not in his nature, though I confess I do not know the man well. Despite what you overheard my impression of him is that he does value you. Maybe you should ask him what he meant by such heartless words.”

“I shall not! That would merely offer him the opportunity to repeat them.”

“Very well, that is your choice. Yet even after you heard him say this, you still respond to his touch?”

“He can be… persuasive.”

“And there lies our problem, the reason we were in no rush to complete our own nuptials. I do not believe I could have persuaded you.”

“You might, had you tried.” She paused, then, “We were together too much, as children.”

“Aye, I do think that is at the root of it. I grew up thinking of you as my sister, and that never changed. I always loved you though. You do know that?”

“I loved you too.”

“You did, as a brother.”

“I had a brother, but the Vikings killed him.”

“Do you think of Adair often?”

“I did, at first, though we were not close especially. Not like I always have been with you. I wanted to hate Ulfric for what he did to my family, but that is difficult when he treats me well and I do not know that he wielded the weapon that killed my brother.”

“You could ask him, if it bothers you.”

“I… no, it is better left as it is. There would be nothing I could do to change things, and… I have no choice but to remain here, with him.” She paused. “Do you know if my father lives still? Have any of the others who were taken said anything?”

“No, and I believe that is a good sign. Had the lord of Pennglas fallen in the battle I am sure it would have been noted.”

“Yes, you are right. There is reason to hope.”

“Remember, Adair died bravely, defending his home. I will always be as a brother to you.”

“Yes. And I love you, as your sister. I will always love you. When you escape from here, and I know you will, I want you to take me with you. I want to go home.”

“I may be a good enough swimmer to pluck a wee lad from the waves but even I cannot swim all the way back to Scotland. If we were to escape, we would be stranded here, in this frozen wilderness unless we could procure a ship of some sort. We must bide our time, Fiona. A chance will come, and we will take it.”

“No, we should?—”

“Things change. Always, events we do not control. You are safe here for now.”

“I want to be free. Do you not long for the same thing?”

“I am free, though for now I choose to remain here. Your Viking brought us to this place against our will, so I see no reason not to enjoy his hospitality for a while longer. He feeds us well, clothes us, provides decent shelter.”

“He is not my Viking.”

“No? I believe he is, or could be, but that is for you to judge.”

“I wish…”

“Hush, sweetheart. It will not always be thus, I promise you. Something will happen to change all of this. For now though, we should return before you are missed.”

“Must we?”

“Yes. Come, I shall walk back with you.”

“That will not be necessary.” Ulfric stepped forward and around the tree to stand over the seated thralls. “I shall escort my thrall back to her place in my bed.”

He was gratified to see the blood rush from Fiona’s cheeks at the sight of him. She might well be afraid. The wench had sought to incite her fellow slave to escape with her. Ulfric’s palm twitched already.

Taranc rose to face him. “You were listening.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Enough. You may return to the thrall barn.”

“Treat her well, Viking.”

Ulfric did not answer. His icy glare did his talking for him.

Taranc nodded and turned to make his unhurried way across the meadow in the direction of the slave quarters.

“Again, I thank you for your timely aid this day.” Ulfric called the words after the slave’s retreating form. Taranc raised his hand in silent acknowledgement and did not look back.