Read Online Daughter of Fire and Ice by Marie-Louise Jensen - Free Book Online

lifted more steeply. I looked out at the heaving, blue-green sea. This ship that had looked so huge in the fjord now felt tiny and insignificant on this vast expanse of water. The other boat was still beside us, but I could only see it in snatches now, as we disappeared down into deep troughs, and waves the size of hills rose up between us.
    It was no longer possible to walk without holding onto something. The slaves started to lie down and hold their stomachs. A few vomited violently over the side of the ship, hanging onto the edge for dear life as the ship dipped and reared under them. Looking around me, I saw it wasn’t only the people who were suffering. The animals too were lying down as best they could in their confined spaces, and one of the small lambs was bleating piteously. I staggered to its pen, trying in vain to comfort it.
    ‘If you want to help the animals, tend to that foal there,’ Thrang called to me roughly. ‘It’s lying down, and that’s sure death to horses. It needs to be on its feet or we’ll lose it.’
    Here was a task I understood in this unfamiliar environment. I’d never been to sea, but I’d helped on the farm all my life. I went to the foal, and stroked its nose, speaking to it encouragingly. It lay still, sweat drenched and panting.
    ‘Try to get up,’ I urged it, pulling on its halter. The foal, a spindly palomino youngster, resisted. I climbed inside its enclosure and pulled harder, but it was a dead weight. I bent and put my arms around its body, bracing myself against the railings. The foal made a valiant effort to lift itself, getting its back legs under it. It swayed and would have buckled, but for the sudden assistance of one of the slave women. She caught at its hindquarters as they swayed and held it steady while I hauled it onto its front legs too. The poor creature stood swaying and trembling, leaning against us for balance.
    ‘Thank you,’ I said to her. ‘What’s your name?’
    ‘Asgerd,’ she told me briefly. I recognized her as the woman who had told me Thrang’s name in the night and also the mother of the one child on board.
    ‘Well, Asgerd, if you fetch me a rag dipped in water, we can try to give this youngster a drink.’
    We did our best to squeeze water into the foal’s mouth, but most of it ran back out. We took it in turns to stand with him, keeping him on his feet. Asgerd’s daughter Astrid came to help, chatting to the foal and stroking him. After a few hours, I was sure he was a little stronger and his eyes clearer. Asgerd herself leaned heavily against the pen from time to time, eyes closed. She was obviously suffering too, I could see sickness in the colours that pulsed around her head. I was surprised to find myself unaffected.
    As night came, the waves seemed to grow rougher. Or perhaps it was just more frightening to be out on the open sea in the dimness of the summer night. It grew colder and colder. I huddled in my cloak, miserable, uncomfortable and unable to sleep with the wind whipping over me. Sometimes when we plummeted down a wave, the next wave struck us, sending sea spray across the deck. I was soon sticky and damp from the salt water. Thrang moved among us, ordering us to tie ourselves to the ship, and handing out ropes.
    ‘We’re in for some heavy weather,’ he told me.
    For a moment, I was afraid again. But Thrang looked so calm, so in control, that I hoped we weren’t in any grave danger.
    I watched him set to work with Bjorn, bringing down the sail, furling it and lashing it securely to the mast. The two of them went to the tiller and tied themselves to the side of the ship. I could see them speaking to each other. They seemed to be the only people still able to move about. As I watched them, I noticed that Thrang’s aura was no longer dominated by the streaks of sulphurous yellow that had suffused it earlier. His suspicion was fading already. Bjorn’s aura was now glowing a confident, beautiful turquoise. He was feeling