Blasphemy [Finan the Agile]

CHAPTER iii. 'The Zealot'

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CHAPTER iii. 'The Zealot'

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            Finan visited Freydis two more times since bringing her stew in the first fateful night. The first time was three days after the initial visit, Freydis' guards were drunk on ale and too busy watching Ragnar's theatrics to notice the Irishman handing two apples and a loaf of bread to the Irish lady. The second time was the night thereafter, Ogna was fast asleep and Alfgier went off to piss. Finan gave her a pouch of water, a loaf of bread, and a stew to dip the bread into. In order to prevent herself, or Finan, from getting in trouble, Freydis would discard the leftovers of the gifts like apple cores, bowls, and spoons by burning beneath the swine straw pile. She kept the pouch, filling it whenever it rained or Vikar was too busy to notice her run off for a moment. As before, the Celtic pagan worked vigorously every day, thus her weight had no improvement despite the increase of meals she had thanks to Uhtred's generous second-lieutenant.

"Princess!" A drunken Dane called, slamming his cup of ale onto the cedarwood table. "More ale!" Sighing, the Irish woman grabbed a pitcher of ale before shuffling toward the Dane, and pouring it into his cup. As she turned to move away, he made a great squeeze of her arse. "Why don't you sit with us, lady? We could use a pretty jewel like you."

"I will sit, if you like," the Celt began, disgusted by the elated look of the Dane. "and when Vikar comes, he will cut off your cock."

The other savages laughed and the Dane gripping her right side growled, "Vikar cannot have you all to himself, princess. I was there as well, when we destroyed your city."

"Valiant, truly," mused Freydis, "unfortunately for you, Vikar does not share this traitorous opinion of yours. You must release me, Dane, or else you will find yourself in an early grave."

Reluctantly, the Dane released her, but not before swearing, "Cunt."

Freydis ignored him and stumbled away, trying to even her breaths after the stressful ordeal. In this entire mess of things, Freydis was most thankful for the fact that Vikar had no interest in her body. Well, that he made no action toward ploughing her, at least. Furthermore, his claim of her proved to be both a curse and a blessing; a curse as she obviously had no freedom, and a blessing because it meant that she had a protection like no other slave; a permanent barring from ever being claimed as another Vikings woman at the expense of them losing their cock or hands.

Toward the entrance of the Feasting Hall sat Uhtred and his men, out of every table in the room, they were the only ones to not summon her for ale or stew. Not wanting to be harassed any further by standing still, she grabbed a fresh pitcher of ale and shuffled her way over. "Lord," she greeted, "lords men."

"Lady Freydis," Uhtred acknowledged, "we have no need for ale, thank you. My men will surely have enough with the feastivities later tonight."

Finan thought otherwise, "There is nothing wrong with too much ale," he grinned, pushing his cup toward her. "Would yu' like to join us?"