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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you so much for my amazing reviews and reviewers. they literally drove my muse to the keyboard
Hope you enjoy the update
I had a review questioning , politely, my research. They doubted the amount I said the Vikings had got etc.
For a paying hobby I research for and lecture at museums, in Viking history. So here is a very small part of my work

Lindesfarne is somewhere between 5 days and three weeks sail out from Norway, there were Vikings based in Orkney, Shetland Scotland and York in this time period, To go Viking meant to go raiding, The Northmen were also traders and business men who traveled as far as Russia and Istambul. there was a distinct trade route up both the east and west coast of the UK during the viking periodThe Isle of Mann, Dublin and The Wirral on the west Coast, York and other cities on the east. Lindesfarne was hit quite a few times, with the monks seeking shelter with the King of Nothumbria. Where i live in Britain is two days sailing to Lindesafrne and four days out of bergen, and Trandheim, Norway, as proved regulaly. a haul like that, gold silver and slaves would be considered a good summer's pay. The Curdale hoard weighs 40 Kg ( about 90 lb) that could be carried easily by two or three men, hack silver was used as currency, and a penny weight (there are two hundred and forty to the LB) would buy you 16 chickens so the Curdale is 345,600 chickens worth, about £ 172,800 in today's money:) $that's $3,456,000 so not bad for a couple of months work. Slaves were expensive as well and ransoms would have been done in silver.
The ship would have had about 30 people on board, and would not be equiped to carry more than a four or five prisoners
http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/programmes/vikingvoyage/
will give you a picture of the ship, and the woman in full viking kit under 19 th july is me
hope this answers the questions
The first thing that William noticed was the smell: seawater and vomit, not the nicest of combinations. His head felt like it was going to explode, and he wanted to add to the vomit on the cloth in front of him. Cloth that seemed to be covering a woman’s leg. He tried to push himself up a little, to see who he was resting against, but that hurt his head even more. He put a hand up to his skull and felt a bump on the back and a cut over his eye. That’s going to scar he thought and wiped the blood out of his eyes. The boat was rocking gently, he could see very little in the half light of the new day.

Tara whimpered: she had been terrified, William had appeared as though he was dead. Harmony had screamed and screamed until one of the men had hit her hard and knocked her to the bottom of the boat. She’d felt alone and scared beyond belief.

Tara had thought she was scared before but when her cousin started moving, she’d screamed again, thinking him a ghost, one of the undead come back to haunt her.

William pulled himself up a little further and looked at his cousin, she seemed all right, there were no huge bruises or cuts on her face.

‘Tara. Are you safe?’ He asked gently.

Tara nodded slowly. William crept forward, not wanting to disturb any of the crew, they looked scary enough when they were ignoring the little bedraggled group of humanity in the bow. He saw that Tara was shivering and shaking; some of it was cold but a lot of it was fear. William climbed over the ropes that lay in the hull of the boat, between the staves and held open his arms. Tara crept into them, quietly, so as not to disturb anyone else. William pulled his cloak around them both and tried to warm them both up. He was scared too, but too much of a man to show it in front of his cousin.

‘It will be well Tara, we are worth something alive; ransom, it will be paid and we will be free.’

Tara nodded tearfully, her head rested on William’s shoulder and the heat from his body was starting to warm her through her thick robes.

Harmony was coming round slowly, she started screeching again, drawing the attention of one of the warriors to the miserable huddle in the prow of the boat.

The warrior turned. He was young, barely twenty summers old from his face. Around his arm was a rough bandage. It was the same warrior who had thrown Tara in. His eyes watched them as a cat may watch a mouse, hunting all the time.

He stalked across to Harmony, and put his hand across her mouth. She whimpered beneath his touch. He withdrew the hand slowly: when she took a deep breath he replaced it quickly and started squeezing her nose as well. Harmony couldn’t breathe. The look of terror in her eyes said it all.

Tara spoke up. ‘I think he wants you to quieten down Harmony, just don’t scream again.’

Harmony nodded slowly and again the hand was withdrawn.

She slipped across to where William and Tara were and tried to make herself look small.
The three of them kept as quiet as they could and watched the shadows of men go about their business on the boat.

The sun was coming up: they had been at sea all night. With the dawn came enough light to see around the boat they were in. It was a slim, fast vessel, designed to go on lightning raids, a true Viking Ship. The shape of which struck terror into the soul of any self respecting Christian Saxon; it was known they consorted with demons and devils, how else would they be so powerful and able to control the seas? The ship was about 70 foot long and filled with bags, rope and pieces of wood that William didn’t recognise. The sails were of wool and billowed in a most unusual way. Each man sat on a chest, on which were sheepskins. They wore heavy lined cloaks and their tunics were shorter than those William was used to, though their hose seemed to go down to the ankle. They all wore good leather boots and all had a knife at their belts. Some were in mail and some were not; weapons were stowed by each bench, none of which he could reach. At the far end stood the steersman, holding the course straight. He was watching for where the sun rose over the horizon, carefully and as the first glint of the disc appeared he nodded to himself, satisfied that they were on a steady course. Sometime during the night the great sail had been raised and the oars shipped in. It was obvious that some of the crew were taking the opportunity to rest. There must have been about 30 of them in all.

William sat and watched. He wanted to kill them, each and every one of them. All those who had stolen them away from the life they knew and thrust them into hell, but if he were to act now, he, Tara and Harmony would be dead, or worse, in minutes. He could not handle the great ship without help, he didn’t know the magic to make it run before the wind.

The sun had been up about an hour when Tara started squirming uncomfortably.

‘I need to go,’ she whispered to Harmony.

‘Me too,’ answered the blond, nodding her head, ‘but I don’t think there’s anywhere here.’

William tried not to hear them, no gentleman ever knew about that sort of thing, but he could have used the privy as well. The warrior who had been curt with Harmony was looking at them: the girls were really wiggling. Their voices were getting louder;
William tried to calm them down, but Harmony was having none of it.

‘I need to go William, Don’t you hush me, you’ve got no right.’

The warrior came over again. ‘Problem?’ he asked in Latin.

William was astonished. ‘You speak Latin?’

The warrior nodded. ‘Speak a few languages, just thought they wouldn’t speak it,’ he nodded towards the women. ‘Don’t want the annoying one screeching again: hurt my ears.’ William smiled his agreement.

‘They need to go, so do I but we don’t know where, or how.’

‘Go?’

‘Yes, go.’ William was finding the whole conversation embarrassing.

‘Oh! You mean pi..’

‘Yes,’ he cut off the warrior in front of him, ‘yes,’ he said more quietly, ‘go.’

‘I’ll get the bucket, tell the women to use it then empty it over the side and fill it up with water to clean it, and don’t let go of the rope.’

He made his way easily down the ship stepping from bench to bench and fetched a bucket on a rope, and handed it to William. ‘And tell Blondy not to screech, it annoys the boat master and he’s likely to throw her over the side. I’ll get you some food and drink when we all eat.’ He nodded to William and left.

Tara put the bucket under her dress and sank down gratefully. William turned his back and started to hum a little song to cover any noises she may have made; Harmony used it next and then William. He turned his back on the women as he went about his business.
Then he carefully went to the edge of the boat and lowered the bucket over the side, keeping tight hold of the rope. The contents were soon washed away by the North Sea and he hauled the bucket back on board.

It was heading for noon when the man came back with a plate of bread and sausage, along with a couple of apples. There was also a jug of small beer.

‘Share,’ he said and turned. It was Tara who called him back.

‘Why are you being kind to us?’ She asked in Saxon.

‘Business, you’re not worth anything dead, little one.’ he replied in the same language.

‘Oh,’ she sighed, but as she turned her shoulder caught his arm where he had been wounded, and he grimaced.

‘I can help you with that.’ Tara pointed to the wound. ‘I work in the infirmary and I know a little healing.’

The warrior looked her straight in the eye. ‘No funny business; they will kill you if you do anything stupid.’

‘I know, but you’re hurt, and I help heal, that’s what I do.’

The warrior nodded and pointed to himself, ‘Connor.’

‘Tara.’

Tara started to unwrap the dirty bandage. Connor winced and Tara went white, frightened that he would punish her.

‘It’s alright,’ Connor smiled at her, the smile reaching his eyes, ‘we have healers at home. I expect it to hurt, and so do they.’ He pointed at the crew watching them.

Harmony sniffed and made a dive at the food. William took some sausage and bread, it was good but he was watching the play between Tara and their captor closely. He couldn’t defend her if the man tried anything but he would do his best.

Tara looked closely at the wound: she turned the man. It was difficult to see anything.

‘Could you perhaps take your overshirt off?’ She whispered, going bright red.

Connor blushed as well. His trews were one thing, but take his shirt off in front of a woman? He slipped the woollen tunic up and over, leaving his fine linen tunic on. It was thin and Tara could see every well defined muscle. It made her feel strange and she found it difficult to concentrate on her task. The wound looked dirty and as she pushed at it with her hand she felt a bit of the arrow head still in it.

‘We have to get that out,’ she told him.

Connor unsheathed the knife from his belt and handed it to Tara. ‘Be careful’ he said, lost in her eyes, ‘don’t do anything stupid.’

Tara looked at the knife: she was scared, it looked the same as a knife that could kill, and it terrified her.

‘Take it,’ he repeated, ‘you won’t be stupid will you?’

Tara shook her head and cut into the flesh. Her stomach felt as though she was going to be sick. She clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. Cutting a little deeper she could grab the offending piece of iron with her delicate fingers and started to pull gently. Connor was going white: one of the others came over and handed him a bottle of something, from which he took a huge swig. He grimaced and shook his head.

‘It’s to dull the pain,’ he explained when Tara looked at him askance.

Tara nodded. The arrow was out. The good clean blood ran freely. Tara bled the wound for a few minutes then looked around for something to act a bandage. A piece of linen was handed to her respectfully by the same man who had handed Connor the bottle.

‘Done?’ Connor asked.

She nodded, done. Someone called something in a language she didn’t understand.

‘He wants to know who you are.’ Connor translated, ‘and whether we’re selling you or ransoming you.’

‘I’m Tara of Kenbourne. You would get money for my safe return, my father is Lord of Kenbourne.’

‘And them?’

‘Lord William, his brother, is high in the Kingdom of Wessex and Harmony lady of Kendell: there would be ransom for all of us.’ Tara added. Connor nodded and talked again to the men.

The only word she understood was ransom. Tara went back to William, he had saved her food and drink, despite Harmony trying to eat it all. Connor caught her arm. ‘Him,’ he said, pointing at William, ‘what is he to you?’

‘My cousin, our mothers are, were, sisters.’

‘Good.’





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