I saw Yellow Hair shrug in a disinterested way and then turn to the throng. He called out to them and pointed directly at me. This caused an uncertain sensation among the crowd, some of whom laughed aloud while others muttered ominously. Several moved nearer the boat for a better look, eyeing me with speculative curiosity.
One of these, a thick-browed man, raised his voice to the chieftain and was answered benignly. Yellow Hair then turned to my barbarian who nodded, his mouth firm. The thick-browed man spoke again, pointed at me, and held up two fingers. I perceived with some dismay that they were bargaining for me.
Again, the chieftain spoke, and again my barbarian nodded. The other man looked at me, then shook his head and walked away. Yellow Hair held out his hand. My barbarian reached into his belt and withdrew three gold coins which he dropped into the chieftain's palm.
Yellow Hair commanded the last treasure box to be returned to the ship, and then sat down cross-legged on the oxhide, holding his cup in one hand and his bowl in the other. At once the oxhide was taken up and lifted high, and the barbarian chieftain was carried into the fortress upon the shoulders of his people, who followed with much loud acclaim.
My barbarian summoned me from the ship, where I stood watching all that passed on the strand. I climbed over the rail and joined my new master, who put a hand to his chest and said, "Yuu-nar." Patting his chest, he repeated this word several times, nodding at me with an expression of intent expectation.
"Yu-nar," I replied, pronouncing the odd-sounding name as well as I could.
He smiled, pleased with my effort, said, "Gunnar," again, then tapped me on the chest hopefully.
"Aidan," I told him. "I am Aidan."
Gunnar appeared thoughtful. "Ed-dan," he said.
"Aidan," I corrected gently, nodding. "Aeedan."
"Aeddan," he replied.
I was on the cusp of correcting him again, when he suddenly raised his hands, took me by the throat and squeezed hard. I struggled to remove his hands, but he pressed the harder, and I began to fear he would choke me to death. My eyes bulged and I fought for breath. Gunnar forced me to my knees. Black spots crowded my vision, and I croaked, "Mercy!"
Only then did he release me. I gasped, drawing air into my lungs. Standing over me, Gunnar took a length of leather strap, such as might be used to leash a dog, and proceeded to tie it around my neck; he looped it two or three times and tied it tight. Then, with a grunt, he extended his right hand to me. I thought he meant to raise me up, so I took the offered hand. He shook off my grip and thrust his hand nearer my face.
When I made no further move, he took my head with his free hand and held it while he pressed the back of his right hand to my forehead. I understood this gesture to mean that he considered himself my master, and I his slave, indebted to him for my life, which he held in his hands.
He turned away and strode towards the fortress, stopping after a few strides to see if I was following him. When he saw that I was still on my knees, he uttered a sharp word of command-which I took to mean that I was to attend him. I rose and proceeded to the settlement behind my master.
We approached the high gates and I trembled with fear and dread. I crossed myself and invoked divine protection, saying, "Shield me with a mighty shielding, Lord. Let Michael, Chief of Hosts, go before me into this dread place. My soul between thy hands, Great King, thy wings surrounding me in this sea of unrighteousness. So be it!"
Thus sustained, I made the sign of the cross over my heart and entered the fortress, passing through the enormous gates and into that heathen domain.
I had never seen a barbarian habitation before, but I had heard men tell of the settlement at Dubh Llyn; apart from the absence of the river, this might have been that very place. The dwellings were large, squat mud-and-timber lodges with steep-peaked thatched roofs; there were seven of these lodges, each one made to serve fifteen or twenty people.
One great structure stood apart from the others, holding centre place within the timber walls. Two slender birch poles stood before this dwelling, their tops adorned with wreaths and boughs of fresh-cut branches tied with white and yellow rags. Even without the birch poles I would have known the place as Yellow Hair's hall.
Passing among the dwellings and across the wide yard, Gunnar and I followed the throng between the birch poles and into the great hall. The room was a dim and very forest-like, with the boles of trees standing the length of the hall, their branches obscured in the smoky darkness of the roof. These rooftrees were painted: red, white, and yellow, but one-that nearest the western corner where the king had his chamber, though it was little more than a stall such as often given to horses-was painted blue.
