I lay on the thickness of layered warm furs of my sleeping couch watching the dance of the flames in the fire place build into the wall. There is a fur beside it, where my personal bondsmaiden sleeps. She was given to me five years ago by my Father. She had very dark brown hair, and a fair enough face. She works hard, and has a nice witty temper that amuses me, and also inspires me when I'm feeling lazy and don't want to get out from the layers of coverings. I call her Honey cause her eyes are light and rich like mead. They look so gentle even with her Northern temper most girls have, that even I am proud of. If she was the type to cry and coward away, I think I would have gotten rid of her. I honestly enjoy her. She can read, to where, I can't. When the Foolish lying merchant comes around in the past, he would bring books to get on my good side, for Honey to read to me in the evenings. She is from the South originally. I sometimes have lashed her when she seemed to happy when I was in a mood of restlessness. No reason other then, her thrill of watching men sail into the shorelines bothered me. I told her to be wanton slut near others, not me. I think it first hit me the day she crawled into my sleeping chambers smelling of my bothers oils and paga. It was near day break and I assumed she had just crawled out from under him, needing to get warmed fur rugs on the floor before I awakened. I was so angry. I didn't even understand my own anger at first as I beat her soundly with a switch and she begged me to forgive her. Yet, I had no remorse but curious nature watching her work with just a slight flinch with the other bonds of the hall, teasing men who touched the bruised welts along her thighs, belly and arms. I felt jealous. I remember asking my Father about this. Once he stopped coughing from the bit of mead he didn't spit out across the table, even soaking the salt bowls. He just stared at me with his deep green eyes that matched mine. He told me no such talk at the his table from his daughters! Letting a fist slam against it as it caused all our plates to jump and food to roll against the polished wooden surface. One would think I asked something other then "Is it just sex that makes slaves so wanton when they look at men?" I figured it was a simple enough question. One I didn't answer again, though there was giggles from Von and Big Red. A tisk or two from Claes. Blushes who was always at Father's side even took a step back and quietly just went to get us replacements of whatever jumped from our plates that rolled to the floor that Alvis was enjoying from under the table.
But it wasn't my Father's table anymore, it was Claes's. They were having a great feast tonight. In honor of the lying foolish Merchant and my sisters Companionship, and us leaving at the break of dawn. This would be the last night of rest in the room I have had all my life. Honey finished all the minor packing of my clothing and jewelry. The other girls helped out with closing the curtain's and getting coverings for the stuff in my room, as Claes's promised it would be here for me, if I found later..much later in the future, I wanted to return home, as long as I waited until Big Red at least gave the man a son. My luck would have it, she will have all daughters, and Claes laughed when I said such. I heard the knock on the door, I didn't bother to look over. I knew the knock, it was Honey. She walked in with a tray, setting it on the small low table beside the couch, which was now empty minus a single tharlorian oil lamp. On the tray she had a mug of warmed mead, a brush, and a necklace. I finally sat up on the edge of the couch so she could brush my hair, as I couldn't make everyone wait for my arrival. She lifted the necklace, a solid pendent I knew well, it even caused my eyes to gloss in tears. Honey telling me, Claes's sent it over as a gift, knowing it would please me, and him to see me wearing it. It was my Father's. I let her slip it around my neck, as I took a few breaths to keep the tears from falling across my freckled cheeks.
I just continued then to watch the fire, as my fingers ran across the cool metal hammer resting low against the cloth of my chest. It was dyed a rich green, and ran long, sweeping the ground with black edging at the hem, that could be easily replaced when I shredded it with the long walks of the fields and climbing the big stone walled fence. Honey just brushed my hair back, with a thick black strap of cloth to keep it out of my face, for the briefest moment, I wondered what Big Red's hair looked like. She was a companioned woman now, it would be done up high in metal combs and tight around her head.
I took a deep breath, as Honey held open the door for me. Walking across the hall, following the rich scents of roasted meats and warm bread, I walked in and took my place at the high table.
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