Nena by Ann Boelter (digital book reader txt) 📕

baths to avoid his unpleasant presence altogether, but Jarl had refused, not wanting her out of his sight until he knew what was going on. She sat cross-legged on Jarl’s furs, on the opposite side of the tent from the table where Jarl conducted his business, to be as far away from them as possible.

Without even acknowledging Jarl, Piltor’s gaze flew to the center pole. Confused to find it empty, the Worick brazenly continued his search of the tent, his eyes darting to every corner until he found her. He focused on the dark circle on her arm. His face fell.

“Have you seen enough?” Jarl interrupted his examination.

“What?” the slaver mumbled, his thoughts still in disorder after his recent discovery.

“Why are you here?” Jarl demanded without repeating his first question.

“I, uh, I came to make sure partial payment in rubies would be an acceptable substitution for the gold we agreed upon,” Piltor stammered.

Both men knew rubies were more valuable and lighter to carry; they would be an acceptable substitution for gold in any situation. It was clearly an excuse and not a very good one.

“Rubies will be fine. Though I am surprised you would make such an arduous journey simply to ask that. Was there something else you wanted?” Jarl asked.

“Uh, no. You are such a good customer, I only wanted to ensure that the transfer at the port went smoothly,” the Worick proceeded, relieved that Jarl seemed to have accepted his explanation. An uncomfortable pause followed. “I see you have sampled your greatest treasure.” Piltor changed the subject, then shrugged. “Though I can hardly blame you. Even with the prospect of a mountain of gold, that temptation would be too much for any man to resist for long.” He brightened visibly as a new thought came to him. “But perhaps she will be for sale now? The price will not be what it once was, of course, but it will still be substantial. Her first union would have brought nearly a king’s ransom, but only that once. She will still have great value every night for as long as she lives. As I told you before, the Teclan have made many enemies over the years—in fact, their actions continuously beget more. Their raiding will ensure her a never-ending supply of customers.” His eyes moved back to her and Nena felt them crawling over her skin, leaving the same slimy tracks as before.

Jarl was managing to hold his temper better this time, though Piltor did not press it by trying to get close to her. “She’s still not for sale,” he answered the original question.

“Pity.” The Worick paused. Then his eyes gleamed again. “But perhaps we could work out something else? In the past, you so kindly shared your previous favorite, Altene, with me.” Piltor licked his lips in anticipation as his eyes undressed her. “Perhaps…” Piltor struggled to find the best way to word his request. “I will not be leaving until the morrow, and would pay handsomely for time with her. Very handsomely indeed,” he added.

Nena saw the cords of Jarl’s neck become taut. One of his fists clenched and unclenched under the table. Using the utmost restraint, he smiled at Piltor—a dangerous smile, then spoke through gritted teeth that left no doubt of his position. “Our business is done here.” He stood and moved toward Piltor as if to toss him from the tent. The slaver recognized it and scurried for the door. “And Piltor,” Jarl added.

“Yes?”

“You are mistaken. You will be leaving tonight, and I don’t expect to see you again until we meet at the port.”

“Yes, of course,” the Worick said as he bobbed his head and backed out the doorway.

That night Nena could not sleep, and though she tried to think of anything else, her thoughts continued to be drawn back to the slaver. He was a harsh reminder of the reality of her situation in the face of her recent idyllic days. She had to escape. Now. While she could still find her way home. Before she was too far away in the cold strange lands of the North. It was only a matter of time before Jarl tired of her—before a new woman caught his eye and she was given away as Altene was.

You are not Altene. He is different with you. He keeps you with him all the time. He is careful to do things you like—to give you things you like; he gave you the mare.

And he gave Altene jewels, which was what she liked…and then he gave her to the slaver. What has happened to you? You are a Teclan warrior and the daughter of Meln. Yet you have gone from seeking any way to kill him to sharing his furs willingly every night. To taking rides, and waiting in his tent for him to return, like some woman waiting for her husband. You are his slave. And like the other women here who you used to ridicule, you have become complacent with your bondage. Remember what happened to Lenta.

All men are not like Lenta’s. Gineesh’s Northman is taking her as wife. Jarl will not hurt you. He fought the gods to save your life.

And he doesn’t think he is hurting Altene any more than he is hurting the chair when he sits upon it. That is its function in life and he is merely using it. When his infatuation with you fades, he will use you in the same manner.

Jarl is different.

Even if he is; what happens to you if he is killed? Even the greatest warriors fall in battle when the gods choose for it to be their time. What happens to you then? Do you think Tryggr will hesitate to claim the handsome price the slaver offers?

No.

No. Her stronger inner voice repeated for emphasis.

The internal debate only reinforced what Nena already knew. She had to escape, and she had to do it soon. Any longer and she might lose her resolve. She realized she was dangerously