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Post by Jenny on Jul 5, 2014 18:56:18 GMT -5
Ulfr’s entrance was uncommon, for usually the Jarl and he rode together, surveying the Halldorr lands and the bounty of it. Sometimes they would ride through the countryside, and sometimes up the mountain pass where it looped up and then down and made half a days ride. When the Jarl’s wife, Ulfr’s mother, a dark haired and beautiful lass, was alive sometimes she had ridden with them, but it was usually just the two of them, as it was now. What the Jarl found pleasing was the informality he and his son could have with one another, and for a time he could separate himself from matters of state. However, usually a stableboy brought out the horses when the Jarl or Ulfr made it known that they would ride that day.
The young stableboys made their respects, but had nothing to fear from Ulfr, not unless they were behind the rape of the slave women. They were fine Nord boys, most of them fair-haired. But there was one among them that looked shifty and seedy, and although he looked to be in high spirits, Ulfr did not like the look of him.
“Leave us,” he gestured to the door, indicating that the youths stop their work and leave the barn. The older man was practically cornered, mucking out one stall before which Ulfr now stood, his broad shoulders not allowing a chance to exit unless the stableman dared to get close to him and squeeze through the stall door, which swung from the outside. From the look of business on Ulfr’s face, he would know that his Lord had decided to converse with him. In moments, they were alone. Ulfr crossed his arms and did not move from his position.
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Post by KD on Jul 5, 2014 19:05:20 GMT -5
The head stableman had looked surprised but not displeased to see the Jarl's son enter. Of course, neither him or his sons had had anything to do with the attack on Eira so he had no reason to be unhappy with the son of his lord her. He'd started to ask if he had wanted a horse saddled and checked himself when Ulfr's gaze zeroed in on Brant. He couldn't say he was surprised, because the man was a troublemaker, which was why he was out here in the first place, despite the fact he acted like he was too good for the stables. No, the fact he'd done something to secure Ulfr's wrath didn't surprise him at all. He nodded and bowed at Ulfr's command, then herded his boys out immediately without so much as a glance back. Brant was on his own.
Brant had paused when Ulfr entered. He wasn't pleased to see him at all and it showed on the surprise and sudden fear on his face. His gaze flicked left and right but while he was strong enough, he was no warrior, he couldn't get past Ulfr. He tried to smile, licking his lips. "M-my lord?"
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Post by Jenny on Jul 5, 2014 19:18:28 GMT -5
He had not watched the head stableman or the youths exit, his business was not with him. He kept his gaze on the man’s face, saying nothing at first, watching his reactions, the nervous twitches in his face despite the attempt to smile, the position of his body, the way he practically cowered under Ulfr’s stare. Ulfr had learned, as a Viking warrior and swordsman, to read body language to anticipate an attack, or to get through defenses. All signs pointed to the fact that Ulfr was in no mood for slippery words and attempts for placation, and any flattery was due to his status. There would be no weaseling out of this situation. He carefully looked up and down the man’s body, at his rumpled clothing, looking for any signs that he had been the one who had sexually assaulted his slave. He saw dots of dried blood on the bottom edge of his rough and rumpled shirt, and some up and down his thigh.
When he was addressed, he looked back up to the man’s face. “Have you been injured this day, stableman? Or do you make it a habit to remain unkempt and filthy around my prize horses?” Ulfr could smell the foulness of him from where he was standing. He was testing the man and awaited an answer, expecting nothing but excuses.
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Post by KD on Jul 5, 2014 19:22:00 GMT -5
Pride had the man drawing himself up, his considerable ego pricked, though his eyes were still fearful. He gestured around him, drawing attention to what he was doing. "It's hard not to around the horses, my lord. Even the finest of horses drop shit on the ground."
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Post by Jenny on Jul 5, 2014 19:26:19 GMT -5
“That may be so, but the others look well-kempt enough to me. Do they not work in the same conditions?” Ulfr shook his head slowly.
“You have blood on your shirt and upon your leggings. Have you been injured this day?” He asked a second time, with the kind of patience a man may have for a child that has done wrong. He could take all the time in the world to find out what he wanted to know.
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Post by KD on Jul 5, 2014 19:27:52 GMT -5
He faltered, glancing left and right again. "No, my lord," he muttered. "One of the horses." He said with the tone of a man who had just thought up a brilliant idea. "Bled all over me."
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Post by Jenny on Jul 5, 2014 19:36:00 GMT -5
Ulfr’s eyes went wide, his nostril flaring in rage, for two points. First, this man had the brazenness to lie straight to his face, the other being indicating that one of his horses had been injured, which would be impossible. No one would do such a thing, especially since these horses were worth such more than a years worth of pay for a free man. “Show me this horse,” he demanded. If there was indeed a horse injured, that was one thing, but this stableman was falling further into the trap he was setting for himself with naught but lies.
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Post by KD on Jul 5, 2014 19:45:46 GMT -5
A hint of confidence filled him, for there was indeed a horse that had been injured a few days ago. One of the work horses had cut himself on a loose nail. Nothing very damaging but it had bled like crazy at first. He hurried over and swung the stall door open for Ulfr. The big horse turned his great head when Ulfr came to his stall, a clean bandage around his leg where he'd been cut. There would be no infection or worsening of the wound, not even the chance of it. The stablemaster would have slit his own throat before he'd let that happen. He didn't seem distressed in the slightest, for he was a good even tempered animal who was highly favored for the fields, flicking his ears and whickering softly at the Jarl's son, his tail swishing.
But when Brant stepped into the stall, the horse's head swung sharply to him. Brant hadn't gotten near the animal close enough for him to smell the blood on him over the rest of the smells in the stable but he could smell it now. Eira's blood, faint but clear. He didn't like it at all. His ears laid back against his head and he shifted, lips pulling back from his teeth, snapping at Brant in agitation.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 5, 2014 19:58:20 GMT -5
An animal had a second sense which humans did not possess. If it was spooked, it was likely that it had been mistreated. Ulfr followed the stableman to the stall and stood aside, but when the he spooked the horse, Ulfr reached out and grasped a fistful of the back of his shirt and pulled him roughly out of it. He pressed him against the wall, not too softly, and it was a moment before Ulfr released him. “Stand there, for I still have in need of you.”
He went to the stall, raising his hands and quieting the horse softly, then ran a hand down it’s neck and back, soothing it. As the disgusting man was now nowhere near it, it allowed Ulfr to run his hands down his shoulder and down to the injured leg. The horse did not favor it, meaning that it no longer caused him pain. Carefully, Ulfr unknotted and unwound the clean bandage and inspected the cut. The wound had completely closed but it was well that the bandaged was place in case the scab was rubbed by the horse’s nose if it caused an itch, or from rubbing it along the wood of the stall. Ulfr frowned as he studied it momentarily then re-bandaged it.
He stood up and reflexively wiped his hands on his jerkin, turning his frown onto the stableman who was eyeing him warily. “This cut has had days to heal, it no longer seeps blood.”
“You are not being honest with me…” he said brusquely. “I know that you are not. Tell me the truth, how did that blood come to stain your shirt? Perhaps today when you paid a visit to the slave housed in the granary?”
He paused, studying the man carefully as he spoke. “I have been given witness that this is so. Now admit to your transgression.”
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Post by KD on Jul 5, 2014 20:02:51 GMT -5
Blanched white with anger and fear, the man took a step back, not realizing he was echoing some of Ulfr's own thoughts of the past few days back to him. "She's just a whore!" His guilt was plain on his face but rather than stand and face it, the fool made a wild break for the stable doors, running outright.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 5, 2014 20:17:12 GMT -5
Ulfr had been prepared for such a thing the very moment he confronted the vile man with the truth, and his actions had confirmed that what he had implied, on suspicion, was the truth. As the man made a break for the doors, Ulfr barreled after him, dodging around the stalls and wooden posts that ran up to support the roof while pursuing this man. The stableman may have made it through the door and out onto the grounds, observed by the stableman and his sons, but he was no match for Ulfr’s superior physique and could not match his speed. When Ulfr caught up to him he reached out for the dirty shirt that flapped loose in the wind and stopped him short. When Brant stumbled and slid across the gravel, Ulfr had released him but for moments. To please their lord, and with no love for this man, the stable boys raced to assist Ulfr, running like spring hares. They caught Brant and raised him up, one standing behind with his arms bound around his middle under his armpits, and the others catching his hands so that he had no chance for escape, and with no small amount of pleasure, though their nose wrinkled with his sweat and stink.
Ulfr tugged down his jerkin and walked so he faced the stableman. His features were set firm, his wrath cool but terrible. “Take him to the stocks. I shall follow.”
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Post by KD on Jul 5, 2014 20:23:45 GMT -5
Brant struggled in their hold, his voice rising into a panicked whine. "She made me do it! It wasn't my fault! It was her heathen magic! She made me!"
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Post by Jenny on Jul 5, 2014 20:45:37 GMT -5
Ulfr was caught between his rage for the act that this man had committed and the nagging and uncertain feeling of whether or not the slave woman was a whore. But he was wrathful nonetheless.
“I have seen the state of her body, how she was gagged and chained… she was taken by force and not by choice. You dare suggest these things to my face? You touched my property and you have damaged her. You deserve to be punished and made an example of.” He spat at the stableman’s feet.
By then guardsmen had been alerted and they jogged across the grounds to assist. Ulfr looked up to them as they approached. Ulfr nodded to them and allowed them to seize the transgressor who had no chance to flee during the exchange.
He looked to the young stable tenders, their father coming to join them at their sides. “You have been assistance to me and I am pleased.” He reached into his jerkin for his money purse and took out several gold coins, one for each of the boys that had assisted them and one for their father, who had raised them with a worthy sense of honor. Coins clinked as he pressed them into the stable master’s hand. “A gold coin for each of you to do with as you please. Return to your work. You have my thanks.”
The boys stood all the taller, pleasure from the praise shining in their faces. “My Lord,” they all said in turn, bowing and returning to the stables.
Ulfr replaced his purse in his jerkin and turned to the guardsmen who now held him.
“Take him down to the village and put him in the stocks.” This man deserved shame and humiliation. They did so promptly, walking to the path that wound down to the village proper. His body would be henpecked by gulls, laughed at by both servant and freeman alike, and Ulfr would take his time in mulling over this man’s fate. But for now, he found himself turning towards the direction of the granary, though it could not be seen from this vantage. He hesitated which direction to take- to return to the manor or to pay a visit to the slave to gauge her welfare. His feet decided for him.
Gods, what was he doing? Was the thought that came to mind as he walked towards the granary. He stopped in his tracks, shifting this way and that, pacing in a circle as he warred with himself. This slave did not deserve his attention yet he was somehow curious of her welfare. Why did the fact that she had been raped bother him so?
It was absolutely ridiculous. Still, he began to walk that way again, his steps quickening as he resigned himself to visiting her.
The guardsman regarded him respectfully but curiously, for in their opinion this woman was not worth his time. He had given their lord much more than simply a headache. They each slid to one side, allowing Ulfr access.
Ulfr was angry at himself for doing this. He opened the latch and slammed open the door, his eyes adjusting to the darkness for the slave woman. He saw that she had cleaned herself and that the bucket had been removed. The servant had not lingered. He was slow to speak, regarding her as if he could not decide what to do. But he muttered his query.
“How fare you, slave?” It was of begrudging tenderness.
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Post by KD on Jul 5, 2014 20:58:03 GMT -5
The man was still howling as he was dragged off, screaming about magic and how it wasn't his fault.
Eira was sitting with her back against the pillar, her legs tucked beneath her, her eyes on the ground. She had cleaned herself up as best she could, her hair forming damp curls around her face. She turned her dark, grave eyes toward him. For the first time, there was no anger or hate in her gaze. Rather, it was an intense look, a studious one. He'd done something that seemed wholly out of what character she'd observed in him. "That day on the docks, you suggested to Asger that he pass me among his men." Her voice was quiet and a bit hoarse from dryness and the gag in her mouth. "I thought you'd sent him." Her gaze flicked toward the doorway as if she could see beyond and burn the man being led down to the stocks with a look. "You didn't. You punished him for it. Why? If you wanted a way to break me, that will probably work." She looked at her hands, the wrists still chafed, the half healed arrow wound clear on her shoulder. "Bad enough the first time...worse this time. Over and over again? I would break. I admit it."
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Post by Jenny on Jul 5, 2014 21:09:33 GMT -5
He winced at that first comment. He had said that, clearly, but it was more of a boast among men. It sounded ridiculous now… but why? She was a slave, and a Celt besides.
“I have ordered any but myself and those I have approved to approach you not to enter. This man is to be punished for this transgression, and only that.” This should be true. To think otherwise would mean that she had a power over him.
“You may think horrible things about me, but I insist of fair treatment of my slaves. To break you is to keep you alive.” He spoke slowly, for he knew if he said the wrong thing it was possible she could act like the beast she had done so before.
“And you do want to stay alive, do you not?” His forehead wrinkled and for a few moments he looked vulnerable. “I would not break you in this way… I…”
He trailed off, looking uncertain of himself, and quite awkward. He was unused to feeling awkward. He was a king among women, he was confident among both men and women. So why did this slave make him feel awkward. He cleared his throat, determined to make the feeling pass.
“You will be well treated. I would not see you killed but there is no other way. Think upon it. I will have a servant bring you water and suitable fare.”
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