With the ice finally melting, boats were once again plying their trade across the grey sea and up the muddy Eise into Ulfwick. There was a hint of spring in the air and the taste of possibility as the sun raised its head in the sky to make the world fertile again. The wind had finally ceased to carry a wolf's bite, and instead, bore the sounds of sea birds and the raucous cries of a lively marketplace. The advent of the first trading vessels of the season had drawn the townsfolk out of their winter refuge and brought Ulfwick vibrantly to life. Gathering in the pale sun, they examined new curiosities from foreign lands; trinkets and statues, furs, wines, spices and other fine goods. Pens were filling up with livestock and Gardar had cast his eyes towards those merchants.

Nods of recognition and respect greeted him as he strode purposefully through the crowd, drawn to the slave pen and the auction block. He had thralls enough, but could not resist looking at the women on offer. Dressed in red and blue with metalwork glinting about his body, his dark hair gleaming from careful attention and his expression regal, Gardar cut an impressive figure. However, at this moment, remarkably few eyes were moved to gaze in his direction.

The girl they had been trying to lead to the block was fighting like a wildcat. She had one hand free, scratching wildly with strong nails, spitting and snarling at the man who restrained her. While the language she spoke might mean nothing, the sharp anger of the words she hurled was unmistakable, bitter with impotent rage and malice against her captors. Without warning, she broke free, turning to stare down the men, challenging them to risk her wrath again. She circled, trapped but defiant to the last. Her angry passion was irresistible, but it had been her hair that had drawn Gardar's eye; a wantonly displayed cascade of red that fell to her waist. As he drew closer, he could see that she was well formed, if thin and pale from a long period on a ship. She had spirit and he liked that; it would make breaking her all the more entertaining.

By the time he had haggled over her asking price, the girl had bitten one of the men who had tried to hold her and had drawn blood. Gardar paid less than he had expected to, and was pleased. Regardless of her striking looks, the girl was evidently a wild and unruly savage. She would need taming and breaking in before she would make an acceptable thrall, and there was no knowing what sort of mayhem she might wreak upon his household in the meantime.

Reluctant to take any chances with his new prize, Gardar signaled to Ivar.

"Buy me a length of rope. I want this girl secure before we move her."

Ivar nodded, and by the time he returned, Gardar had drawn another of his men to him with gestures. The girl was putting up less of a fight now, but her eyes were watchful and she seemed ready to pounce at any moment.

"Secure her."

She fought against being bound until Gardar pulled a knife from his belt and held it to her throat. She was still then, and he was conscious of a significant crowd watching them. His new prize would be much discussed that night, and the thought pleased him.

"Take her home," he said. "Astrid will deal with her, but I don't want any nonsense from her in the meantime. If she tries anything, use whatever force you need to."

He looked at each man in turn: Ivar was nodding in understanding, and Rorik was usually trustworthy, neither were likely to take advantage or cause excessive harm.

"I don't want any lasting damage done."

She was reluctant to walk, and Gardar watched the three of them make slow progress through the crowd. He wondered how long it would take her to submit to her thraldom.

Astrid watched the scene unfold with a feeling of grim resignation. Gardar strode towards her, his cloak flapping dramatically behind him.

"I have a new charge for you," he said, smiling.

"So I observe," Astrid replied, keeping her voice carefully neutral. "What would you have me do with her?"

"See if you can knock some of the wildness out of her, break her in for me, render her a little more biddable and presentable."

"I see."

She knew he would not want the girl broken, just softened enough so he could do the rest himself when autumn came. It was a game Astrid had no desire to play.

"If you can make anything of her, we shall see what happens in autumn," he added, his thoughts obviously following hers. He paused to offer a smile and greeting to a passing acquaintance.