Ciara continues to embroider her bag. She has nothing else to do and it feels funny, but at the same time satisfying to just relax, and let the needle rhythmically find it's way back and forth through the leather and let the thread go together with others and make patterns. It's been so long since the last time. Both to embroider, and to be able to relax day after day in this way. It feels good to make her bag hers, and to see her name again. They say it wrong here, and have always done so. But she is no longer miserable Eira without hope, whose life is misery and torment. She is Ciara again - 'Key-rah' - and her future is bright as long as she can stay in Robert's service. The Gods here have given her a chance, and she will do her best to be worthy of it.

Ciara sits there in the corner of the bed, leaning against the hull of the boat and follows as the boat slowly sways. Robert has taken a nap again, and after he fell asleep Iselin smiled, made signs to be quiet and she took the opportunity to oh so carefully sneak down next to Robert in his bed.

But Ciara begins to understand Iselin. Quiet and agile as a cat, just as a cat seeks warmth. Robert is like the sun; it's warm, nice and safe to be close to Robert. His light makes the darkness disappear. Even the darkness within Ciara that Robert talked about has begun to dissipate - still there, but somehow more compressed and everything isn't dark any more. Ciara also likes to feel Robert's warmth, but this is warm enough. Ciara doesn't want to burn herself, even though she wishes she could try to crawl up to Robert with Iselin. It looks nice and Iselin looks so pleased when Robert hasn't woken up, and just moved a little in his sleep to accommodate her. But Ciara is afraid she can't do it, and Robert doesn't want it. Ciara is just a slave.

Ciara likes that Robert now have guards who seem smart. Alith understood faster than Ciara what Iselin meant there on the beach. Robert deserves it, and Ciara appreciates it more than he understands that he's thinking of her by taking on female guards. Robert immediately noticed that she stuck herself on the needle, and then men were excluded. Robert thinks that she as a slave is worth so much, that he got female guards for her sake. Robert is such a good man. When he wakes up he isn't even mad at Iselin. He just looks at her and smiles as he puts his arm around her and relaxes. A good man who appreciates and gives her what she wants, instead of beating her when she take liberties.

I wake up after an hour or so and feel a body lying against mine, but I'm not surprised when it Iselin's sweet face on the pillow next to me. How didn't I notice when she lay down next to me? Sure, I sleep hard and the ship moves - but still. She's like a little ninja. Always expect Ninjas! The expression makes me chuckle and smile; she is true Grrl power!

Eira sits and embroiders her bag again. She uses different colors and from here it looks like a work of art. It's obviously not the first time she's done such a thing. Not what I expected of her, and must be something she did before she became a slave. May she is a city person and a seamstress who never took care of a farm and animals? Is that why she didn't have 'any skills'? Because she's learned in crafts they didn't let her do?

I have nothing that forces me up from bed, so I just enjoy feeling Iselin lying against me. Still Iselin's day off, but I don't think she's really understood. Or maybe it's me who don't understand what a 'day off' means to her, given how much time we've spent snuggled up against each other in bed so far today. Not that I'm complaining. We've had sex twice, but it was so damn nice it's going to be more times. I may be able to stop myself from approaching or asking her, but whenever she comes to bed stealthily, dressed or not, I doubt I can say no.

Yay, I lasted a few days. Damn.

I can almost see a personification of my self-control standing on my chest and resigned gesturing to her - as if I'm asking for a bit too much.

Change thoughts. Ship? Saltpeter!

I really should see if I can get more. No fault in stockpiling. I should also set the balls rolling for the future. After another 20 minutes where I know that Iselin is awake, but pretending to sleep, I get out of bed even though I would have like to stay. With a sigh, Iselin follows me out of bed and we all three leave the cabin, and I officially introduce Alith and Bodil to Iselin and Eira. Everyone seems to think it's funny considering they were standing on the beach talking. I ask if there are any good places to sit and eat, but preferably outdoors and meat or fish, and I want Alith and Bodil to eat too. They both nod and can lead the way - they know this town. I tell Iselin that I will try to get saltpeter this afternoon after the meal, and it's up to her if she wants to come along as it is still her free day, but we take a couple of ceramic vessels with us, water and other things. The shoulder bags where a really good investment.

It's a nice meal, and we eat grilled fish with some kind of root vegetables, vegetables and bread. Alith and Bodil look a little questioning when we all eat the same food and at the same time, including Eira, but they eat quickly in shifts and Bodil starts while Alith is on guard at my side. I almost want to ask them if the shields are really necessary to wear all the time, as it feels like it would be heavy and uncomfortable. But I understand the value of a shield, and I would feel stupid to tell my guards to carry smaller defensive weapons. Many here are armed, and most men have both a knife and an axe in their belt, and quite a lot have swords.

The afternoon is similar to the one in Dufansdalr when we walk between farms and small talk. Iselin came along and I appreciate it. She mostly seem to enjoy that she got to choose, but she wants to accompany us. It goes less well here, but perfectly okay, and I collect about 0.6kg of saltpeter bushes from four places so I don't complain. Now that Iselin knows how common it is, she haggles down the price even more. Iselin also tells them the same as I did in Dufansdalr to spread that it is called saltpeter, and someone in the future might come here and try to buy it, so leave it on the walls, if it's not too far away. Keep it safe from water or moisture.

It's early evening when we return from the collection trip and we take the opportunity to eat a light meal again. Barbecue skewers with mixed meat, vegetables or fish in combination with fresh bread is apparently not uncommon, just a little upper price range. I buy a few of each for all of us. It's practical food to eat since they don't use cutlery. It feels nice to sit on a boulder next to the sea and eat while we look out over the harbor life. I lack napkins and paper to wipe my fingers on, and Iselin is so quick and manage to suck off a couple of my fingers before I come out of my shock, and stop and thank her. I wash my hands in the sea water and dry them on the grass, while I silently curse that so many of my thoughts go to sex, and her actions really doesn't help. I would have loved to hold her against me as we walk, and could have spent a few hours just sitting with her leaning back in the grass in some comfortable place.

Back in the cabin, I can see that Eira's embroidery is quite advanced, different colors of threads in complicated patterns and the beginning of a work of art. Not finished, but she doesn't use runes, but letters. Twisted and weird, but letters I can read, and it doesn't say Eira. Ciara? Giara? I look questioningly at Eira.

"Si-ara? Gi-ara?"

Wide-eyed she slightly shakes her head and corrects; "Key-rah."

"Key-rah". Pronunciation and accent explain why she has been called Eira. "Key-rah. Do you want us to call you Key-rah in the future instead of Eira?"

"I'm Keyrah, not Eira."

I can just smiling when she say it so contentedly. Key-rah. Key-rah. It's important I learn to emphasize it right for her sake, and make sure the others do it too.

"You've done that kind of embroidery before. Before you became a slave. And you're coming from across the sea to the west. Scotland?" Ciara has nodded and confirms but looks at me questioningly and corrects;

"Alba. Mountain country. Like here. Ciara Mawr. Gregor's wife, son to Earl Duncaine."

"You're married? You're the wife of a Jarl's son and you were taken as a slave?" Ciara shakes her head and then nods.

"Earl. Not Jarl. Gregor sick, died. Married, half a year. No children. Travel. Vikings came. Then slave Eira. Now Ciara again."

Ah. Talk about change. Ciara must have lived a pretty good life over there. Must have had her own servants and maids. She will have relatives there who probably wonder what happened to her, and miss her. Although that applies to all slaves. Argh, now I'm getting more anguished. I could release her, and send her back. But can I trust that she will really arrive if she's sent alone, and what does it cost? can probably get the family to pay, but it feels cumbersome and will take time. I'm not eager to go to 'Alba' and find them, but maybe I should take a trip there and see how life and culture are there? I have a guide.

"Ciara, do you have any relatives you want to go back to? Your husband's family?"

Her body twitching, face and rapid shaking of her head show that it does not appeal to her.

"Ciara is Master's."

With how confident and satisfied she says it, it makes it clear what she wants. The again, she is my slave, and she may be worried that I'll prevent it, because she is quite literally my possession right now, and I've spent a lot of silver on her.

Alba isn't something I know of to the west, for me Alba is an island in the Mediterranean where Napoleon was sent to stop being a problem. That plan didn't work, so the next time they took him prisoner, he was quietly sent of to St. Helena in the South Atlantic. With guards.

But if Ciara was some kind of lower nobility in the west, and apparently accustomed to letters instead of runes, then perhaps it's similar to England-Scotland? But what about culture, laws and lifestyle, etc? Wait, wasn't their nobility basically French at some point in the medieval age? Is it even the same language I can a bit of?

"Ciara, listen. Does this sound familiar? Parlez vous Francais? Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix." She looks at me questioningly but after a few seconds she goes wide eyed again, and when Ciara jerks her head back the answer must be 'yes'.

Then she starts to talk, first slowly, but then more fluently, and something that sounds kind of like French but I can't understand it at all, just a few basic words as we point to things. My own French vocabulary isn't impressing. I can roughly say that I don't speak French and ask if they can speak English. Count to 10, introduce myself and say I am from Sweden. Avoid dishes and know words for a few things, and simpler things such as swearing and simple insults. That's all that stuck after traveling in France a couple of summers or during skiing holidays in the Alps. I havn't really tried to learn French when I'm there. I have to stop Ciara and explain I don't understand what she is talking about. But Ciara's smiling and happy, and Iselin looks surprised at her.

I lean back and think. Okay. My slave Eira is actually called Ciara and is a former higher status woman called Ciara Mawr, and she's from Alba, which is probably Scotland, Wales or Ireland as she seems to have a Gaelic-like mother tongue, and she says mountainous country like here.

I ask her many more short questions and it turns out that Ciara comes from a higher mountainous northern country with green valleys much like what she is in now, so I guess Scotland more than the others, that is apparently called Alba here. Women's rights are much better here, if they're free women. Divorce can't happen there, and only widows can own property and have legal rights. They have a different faith over there with one God. She also seems to know history, poetry, dance and a musical instrument that seems to be harp like. It can be really practical with such knowledge closeby, and I will surely want her to teach me that, since I may need it. I mean etiquette, dance, history and culture, not poetry or playing the harp. It also partly explains why her adjustment was difficult and why she didn't have 'any skills'. As a woman of higher status, she has had maids all her life.

I take up the little package I've had in my side pouch the last couple of days. The necklace I bought to give to Ciara, but I got side tracked. I would have given her this before, but forgot. That Iselin distracted me is a bad - but oh so true - excuse.

"Ciara, when we met I asked you to make an effort, to make you worth spending time and silver on. You have shown a very big change in a short time, and you are like a completely different woman. This isn't for what I just learned about you - I bought this a couple of days ago. I wanted to reward you for your progress, and show that I noticed how hard you try. Keep it up and your future is very bright. So this is yours."

I show the small package in my left hand while I fold away the fabric with my right. Tears flow down Ciara's cheeks as she slowly and with shaking hands take the necklace from me, and I gently use the fabric to wipe her tears. I'm a little pleased when she lets me do it without pulling back. Iselin helps her attach the pendant to her neckring. I want nothing more than to hug Ciara and say that everything will be fine. But it might be sensitive, so it's best if I ask.

"Ciara, may I give you a hug?"

She just nods, still with tears flowing down her cheeks. So I lean forward and it feels good when Ciara accept my hug. I hold the crying woman softly and soothingly, and feel her head on my shoulder. She is so skinny. Soon she gently hugs me back and that hug gradually becomes more intense. Not powerful, but with emotion, and she doesn't let go. We just sit there while my shoulder slowly becomes drenched in silent tears. Eventually she seems to stop crying but she doesn't let me go. It takes a few more minutes before I feel her start to let go of her grip and I stop hugging her.

Even with red eyes from crying, she looks happy and beautiful. She looks down and gently feels her little silver pendant.

"When we bought dresses, I saw how you quickly chose deep red so I tried to find a matching piece of jewellery."

Ciara immediately bursts into more tears and this time it's she who hugs me, which I happily answer. This time it passes in a couple of minutes and she starts to gather herself. I leave the cabin to be able to gather myself a little, because that was emotional. I feel like crying. Iselin stays with Ciara.

Robert is more than a man, it's as if the Gods sent an angel to descend to Earth and saved her from misery. There is a higher power and Ciara's many prayers were heard, long after she stopped praying. The time for salvation just wasn't right and she hadn't yet passed God's trial, or the kinder Gods here thought that her trial had gone too far. She needed to sink deeper before she could understand, pass the test and appreciate her future. Understand her purpose.

That future is Robert. God or the Gods have chosen him as Ciara's future and brought her to him. The Gods will not be disappointed. It's as the monk said; we will all go into the light after we die, both poor and rich.

Rich lazy smug Ciara, became poor miserable raped Eira who wanted to die. But Eira is now dead; her slave clothes are burned, and she's resurrected as Ciara, for she stands in Robert's light. This is her life after death. This is her resurrection, just as the Savior rose from his grave. She will live this life to the fullest, and she will stand in the light and rejoice. She will no longer be afraid, because she has already died and resurrected. 'If I walk in the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for the light is with me.' The tears were her new baptism and purification. She is a newborn woman, and Robert held her so tenderly and after her purification welcomed her into his light and warmth. She is a woman. And Robert is the man.

Iselin looks anxiously at Ciara as she turns from a woman without tears to a determined face and her eyes seems to glow. Iselin have seen that same glow in Völva Geiravor when she tells tales about the gods. An intense fervor like that monk who came last year and tried to spread that doctrine from the other side of the sea. He had that fearless, determined look and face when Jarl Steinnes sentenced him to death and stabbed him with his sword. He didn't even scream. It scares lselin to see that same look in Ciara who sits and stares in front of her, as she slowly gets a blissful smile, and becomes completely calm while she gently touches her new pendant.

Out on deck, I explain to Alith and Bodil that Ciara's name is pronounced Key-rah. So that they get it right. I also explain that if they're hungry when there's no meal on the ship, there's a small wooden chest with food inside our cabin, and they can just ask Iselin or Ciara. While they serve me, they should eat a varied diet, it's better for their health and body. Then I go to the railing and look out over the town. I discretely take a new photo of Njahamrar, and one of Alith and Bodil.

After a while I return to the cabin and prepare for the night. I want to make it an early evening because they will probably set sail really early, and I wake up easily if the ship starts to sway and there is noise. I would like to use the earplugs, but it feels stupid when Iselin and Ciara will see.

Iselin ask if it's okay that Ciara gets the bed alone tonight, and if she can sleep with me - no sex - just lie and hold me. I'm way too weak willed to say no; we havn't known each other for more than a few days but Iselin has already become a focal point in my life, so I can only smile a little and nod, but tell her that there will be no special awake up tomorrow. I have started to get feelings for Iselin and it's damn nice to have someone to just feel intimacy with.

It's an early evening, but I'm happy to just lie in bed and feel and hold Iselin's soft body against mine and relax. Definitely a good idea to buy those simpler sleeping dress for both of them. Less sweaty between us and it's a silly little thought, but it feels like a protective barrier against sex. A dress is in the way for hands that want to walk and explore her body. A t-shirt and panties would have been so much worse, and also sexier.