Stefan felt her tremble, put his mouth close to her ear and whispered, "I will not harm ye."
He spoke her language and it comforted her enough to let her relax against him. Just as Stefan did, Kannak turned to look through the trees at what was happening on the shore below.
His father's ship was still beached in the sand, but in the other two ships the Vikings had their oars in the water and were swiftly rowing away. His father's men, his cherished Vikings, the men he called friends, were leaving his father's body and their commander's son behind. It was a sight he could never have imagined seeing and it took a while to accept the truth of it. Slowly, he moved his legs back and released his grip on the girl's arms.
Just as slowly, Kannak nudged the horse's flanks and turned them toward home. She was relieved. He promised not to harm her and so far his word was good. Perhaps not all Vikings were vicious, murdering dogs after all. All she had to do now was convince her mother of that. She waited until they were well away before she spoke. "What be yer name?"
The hurt in Stefan's heart was so overwhelming all he wanted to do was bellow his rage and keep bellowing until his sorrow subsided. But he did not. He kept quiet, not trusting himself to speak for fear he would cry out - or worse, weep like a child.
"Never mind yer name, then. How good are ye at lying?" Kannak covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. "What am I saying? Everyone knows a word from the mouth o' a Viking be bound to be a lie." Then she got somber again. "Taking ye home will not be easy, not without a lie, that is. Let me think. We will say ye have come from my uncle in the north to help us work the land. Aye, I think she will believe it; we truly do have family in the north. We can offer ye a warm bed and whatever food we manage to have, which be very little at the moment."
She paused just to see if he cared to contribute to the conversation, but he did not. "There be the tithe, ye see. The priest has promised eternal damnation o' our very souls if we dinna pay. Never have I heard o' anyone refusing, although sorely I am tempted to be the first. On the other hand, if we dinna have food soon, it will be we who must go to the priests and beg for a meal or two. The priests will not deny us, not if they deem us truly hungry."