The Icebound Land- Character Reaction

25

"Here, Jenny." The cook took the book as they sat down, and began reading.

IT HAD BEEN FIVE DAYS SINCE EVANLYN HAD BEEN SUMMONED to Erak's quarters. While she waited for further contact from him, she went ahead with the other part of the plan he had outlined to her, complaining loudly at the prospect of being assigned to be one of his personal slaves. Erak chuckled. According to the story they had concocted, she would finish the week in the kitchen, then take up her new assignment. She professed her disgust with him in general, with his standard of cleanliness in particular, and spoke as often as she could of the cruelty he had shown her on the voyage to Hallasholm.

Svengal failed to hide a laugh. The Herons all looked away to hide their grins.

Cassandra gave Erak a faint smile. "Just so you know, I didn't mean any of that." Her grinned.

To hear Erak described by Evanlyn in those few days, he was the worst of the devils of hell, and with bad breath to boot.

Svengal could no longer hide his laughter. Erak glared at him, which only set the Skandian laughing harder.

After several days of this, Jana, one of the senior kitchen slaves, said to her wearily, "There could be worse things for you, my girl. Get used to it."

Cassandra pursed her lips as she remembered the older slave. Is she still there? she wondered.

She turned away, tired of Evanlyn's constant complaints. For in truth, the life of a personal slave had some advantages: better food and clothing and more comfortable quarters among them. Will said nothing, but he privately agreed.

"I'll kill myself first," Evanlyn called after her, glad of the chance to make her abhorrence of the Jarl more public. A passing kitchen-hand, a freeman, not a slave, cuffed her heavily around the back of the head, setting her ears ringing.

Will, Horace, Halt, and Duncan all scowled. I wonder if that slave's still alive, Alyss mused. It wouldn't have been a terrible opportunity to demonstrate her use of the katana on him.

"I'll do it for you, you lazy slacker, if you don't get back to work," he told her. She shook her head, glaring her hatred after his retreating back, and hurried off to serve ale to Ragnak and his fellow diners.

As ever, she felt a distinct surge of anxiety as she entered the dining hall under Ragnak's gaze. Although reason told her that he was unlikely to single her out from the dozens of other hurrying slaves busily serving food and drink, she still lived in the constant fear that, somehow, she would be recognized as Duncan's daughter. It was that anxiety, as much as the nonstop work, that left her drained and exhausted at the end of each night.

Duncan gave her a sympathetic look, and she smiled in return. "He's gone, Dad," she said, recognizing the light of worry in her father's eyes.

"He wasn't then," Duncan murmured.

After the evening's work was completed, the slaves moved gratefully to their sleeping spaces. Evanlyn noted wryly that Jana, obviously bored with Evanlyn's constant complaints about Erak, had moved her blanket to the far side of the room. She spread her own blanket and went to reroll the cloth around her log pillow. As she did so, a small piece of paper fell from the folds of the old shirt she used to pad the wood.

Her heart racing, Evanlyn quickly covered the scrap with her foot, glancing around to see if any of her neighbors had noticed. Nobody seemed to. They all continued with their own preparations for sleep. As casually as she could, Evanlyn lay down, retrieving the small scrap of paper as she did so, and pulled her blanket up to her chin, taking the opportunity to glance at the one-word message written on the paper: