The chieftain’s tent was round and as rough on the inside as the main hall. Unlike the royalty of Princess Phaedra’s homeland, it did not appear that the clan leader lived any better than his people.

A rough fire pit served as the centerpiece of the tent. Phaedra lay dejectedly by the fire, staring at the blaze. She’d been despondent ever since she’d been separated from Gioni. When Wulfgar had taken her to his tent she’d expected to be beaten, raped or both. But instead he’d deposited her on a mat of furs and had even given her a second for a cover.

Now he sat nearby, stroking his long beard and pondering her. Phaedra tried to concentrate on the fire but found herself looking at her huge abductor.

“My father will come for us,” she said sullenly. “He will come for us and kill you all.”

Wulfgar leaned forward, his forearms resting on his trunk-like thighs.

“So you no longer deny that you are a princess?”

She stared at him sullenly and looked away.

“You demonstrate remarkable confidence for a princess who prefers the company of slaves to the comforts of a castle. It is hard for me to believe the king will come for a treasure he never truly valued.”

Phaedra sat up and sniffed. “My father does value me,” she said resentfully.

“Then why did you leave, girl?” he asked. “And do not tell me you did not. At any point you could have revealed your identity. You never did.”

“I knew you would ransom me,” Phaedra said.

He stood up and walked to the fire where meat turned on a spit. He pulled a piece off and walked over to Phaedra. He offered it to her. She looked at him suspiciously but her hunger was stronger than her fear. She took the meat.

Wulfgar crouched down beside her. Even crouching he was huge. She looked at his face and was surprised to see that his eyes were a soft brown and not so harsh in the firelight. He looked almost kind as he regarded her.

“It seemed a princess would not mind being ransomed,” he continued. “Especially if she knew her father would pay to bring her home.” He paused. “So tell me, lass. Why do you prefer the slaves to your own household?”

Phaedra swallowed the meat. She wanted more but the lump in her throat was taking up all the room she needed to swallow. Tears stung her eyes.

“If I tell you will you let me go back to him?” she asked.

“To your father?”

“No,” Phaedra said. “To Gioni.”

“The slave lad?”

She nodded as two fat tears escaped from her eyes and traced down through the dirt on her face.

“I will consider it,” he said. “If you will tell me the truth.”

She looked up at him.

“I was to be married to a man I didn’t love. He would never love me, could never love me. My parents knew this but were planning to pair me up just as they pair up our slaves. But at least the slaves love and protect their women. I have seen…” She colored up now. “I have seen The Claimings…”

Wulfgar nodded. “This I have heard of. The slaves have an admirable structure.”

“Yes,” Phaedra said. “The pairings are forced, but the claiming is part of their culture. I have heard them talking. They would do this even if they had choice in the matter.

“Choice…” Wulfgar stood and stroked his beard thoughtfully. His back was to Phaedra now. “People will do amazing things when they have freedom to choose.”

He stroked his beard some more, staring into the fire. “Perhaps I have been taking the wrong approach, wee lassie.”

Phaedra looked at him questioningly as he turned back to her.

“Do you think King Benedict will send his army?”

“Yes,” she said. “He will want to reclaim what his.” In her heart, she knew that he cared more for the slaves than for her. “You cannot match his numbers. I’ve heard him speak of your band. He said you are a would-be king leading a ragtag group in the mountains.”

Wulfgar smiled at this. “If we doubled the number of warriors, would that change the odds?”

Phaedra stared in confusion.

Wulfgar stood. “Rest here, Princess Slave. I must meet with your chosen people. Do not try to flee; there are guards outside.”

He bowed with flourish and then turned to leave the tent. Phaedra wondered if the bow had been meant to mock her, but found she didn’t care. She was suddenly very tired. She laid her head down on the furs and was soon asleep.

But had she known why Wulfgar was meeting with Kane and the other slaves, she surely would not have been unable to rest. The clan chieftain had hatched a plan, and when he presented it to his captives they were all momentarily silent.

“You’re offering us our freedom?” Kane asked.

“Would you rather not be free men and women?” Wulfgar asked, walking back and forth in front of the captives.

The slaves began to murmur among themselves. None of them had ever been free, and they had been slaves for so long that the stories of who their people had been before they’d entered a life of slavery had died away. Some among them raised that very point now.

“It is not a good thing, to lack knowledge of one’s history,” Kane said. “I asked my grandfather once if our family had always been slaves. He said ‘no,’ but he said he did not know anything of our history before we became slaves. He said the kingdom forbade his grandfather’s father and their father before them from speaking on it.” He paused. “He told me not to ever mention this, for he believed to do so would still bring punishment. But even by that time, our people had stopped asking questions…”

Gioni listened to all of this from the side. The conversation was the first thing he’d been able to concentrate on since Phaedra had been taken from him. His father had been forced to physically restrain him in the hall after he’d recovered from Wulfgar’s blow. Gioni wanted to go after the woman he had claimed and now considered his own.

Now he stood and walked to where his father was standing. He wanted to ask about his Phaedra, but restrained himself.

“And what will it cost us?” he asked hotly. “As it is you respect us no more than the king did. If you did, you would not have…”

Kane took hold of his son’s arm and squeezed it in warning.

“…taken your woman?” Wulfgar asked. “That is what happens to slaves. They can lose their women, their men. You all live under an illusion that your culture is solid. But you are property to King Benedict and nothing more. Your story changes by his leave, not your own. However, if you earned your freedom then no one would have a right to tear your families apart, to pair your children up like breeding animals and convince you that such a thing is noble…”

The slaves murmured but suddenly Wulfgar was speaking over them.

“Things could be different if you joined us, not as slaves but as warriors….”

The men looked at one another.

“Fight? For you?” Layla’s husband Salaman stood, raising his voice as he asked the question.

“Not just for me,” Wulfgar said. “But also for yourselves. We did not take all of you on our raid. You left mothers, daughters, wives, sisters, sons, husbands and fathers in your village. Would you not like to liberate them? Would you not like to ride back not as slaves but as free men? Would you not like to show your families that there is something more than living and dying by another’s leave? Would you not like to have your children choose their own mates? To the young among you, would you not like to choose yours? I have talked to the princess. It would appear that she and this young man chose each other.” He gestured to Gioni. “Is it not time you all had that right? Is it not worth fighting for?”

Kane looked at his son and Gioni knew what he was thinking. His son was the only man in his memory who had chosen his own woman to claim. If the king’s army came and Wulfgar’s men lost the fight, they’d be returned as slaves. Gioni would never see Phaedra again. He may even be punished or killed for touching her. If they joined the fight and prevailed, then his son and the others would be able to decide whom they married.

But Kane knew there was more at stake. He did not know Wulfgar.

“How can we be certain that you will keep your word?” he asked.

“You can’t,” Wulfgar said simply. “I can tell you that I will, but I know there are those among you who will not believe me. You cannot be certain that I am honorable. But you can be certain of one thing. If we fight the king’s men and lose, your people will remain enslaved.”

The slaves murmured again and Wulfgar stood. “It is for you to decide.”

“Wait!” Gioni walked towards him. “The princess….”

“Is well. And unharmed.” Wulfgar knew the man before him had feared the worse when he’d taken Phaedra to the tent. “And now you want her back.”

“I do.” Gioni said. “And I would fight for her if necessary.”

Wulfgar threw back his bearded head and laughed. “Ah, just what I would hope to hear,” he said. “A slave willing to become a warrior for what the value.” He clapped Gioni on the shoulder. “I will send her back to you then. But remember; after that you will have to fight to keep her.”

He looked knowingly at Gioni and then turned to walk to his tent. Gioni paced nervously until the chieftain returned. He was leading a confused, sleepy-looking Princess Phaedra who - upon seeing her slave-mate - tore away from the chieftain and ran towards him. Gioni caught her in his strong arms and buried his face in her hair. It was filthy from where she’d fallen into the mud, but he did not care.

“Come now,” Kane said, walking towards them. He guided the couple towards the hall and the other slaves followed. On the way, Gioni gave Phaedra a brief account of what had been said.

Inside the hall, a debate immediately erupted.

“There is no shame in our service,” Mara argued. “My husband served King Benedict faithfully and the realm always provided our needs, always gave us everything we wanted.”

“Did it really?” Salaman asked. “Or did it give him the best of what he’d been told a slave could receive. Isn’t that what we get? Our portion and no more? Yes, we are safe and clothed and fed. Yes, we are free from want. But so are the horses in the royal stables and the dogs in the royal kennels. King Benedict has no limits on what he can achieve. If he wants more lands he takes them. If he wants stronger slaves he breeds them.”

“He breeds us, you mean,” Gioni said.

“And why should we want more?” Another man stood. The group murmured.

“Speak, Banor,” Kane said, holding his hand up to indicate the others should fall silent. They did.

The horses in the stable and the dogs in the kennels may not have choice, but they are not left to the elements. No beast preys upon them. They bear their children in safety and do not worry about staying warm in the winter. It is the same with us. Would we trade the promise of potential riches for the certainty of security?

“Slavery, you mean,” Salaman countered. “Call it what it is!”

“You would condemn us to an existence scratching in the soil for food?”

Another man stood. “Long ago, one of our forefathers was captured and made to scratch in the soil so that some rich man would not have to. Now that the rich man’s ancestors give us a portion of what we reap for him, that does not set things to rights.”

“True,” Gioni said. “And thanks to our royal owners, any knowledge of our history before becoming slaves has been stamped out. Benedict has songs of his ancestors to sing. We have none!”

“How do we know we can trust this Wulfgar?” Banor asked skeptically. “He speaks with two mouths. First he strikes Gioni and takes his woman, then he returns her with talk of giving us freedom. Bah.”

Kane turned to Phaedra. “It is a good point,” he said. “The change is curious. Tell us, Phaedra. What happened in the chieftain’s tent?” Her voice was quiet as she recounted their conversation. “He asked me why I preferred the company of slaves to the company of my family. I could not….I could not give him adequate answer. I believe Wulfgar thinks if my father cannot retain the loyalty of his own child, then he could easily lose the loyalty of his slaves as well.”

Gioni rubbed the bump on his head left from where Wulfgar’s sword knocked him unconscious. “He is a shrewd man,” he told the others. “He sees more to be gained from our fighting for him than serving him. It would seem he thinks he could gain more even than he could from ransoming Phaedra…”

“So it would,” Kane said.

“I still don’t trust him,” Banor said. “If we fight King Benedict and lose he will not just punish us but those we left behind.”

“If we fight and win, we can liberate those we left behind and increase our strength,” Kane replied.

“But only if Wulfgar’s men would join the fight,” Gioni said.

“Then we’ll make it a condition, if that acceptable to the rest of you,” Kane replied. “If it is, then we will join Wulfgar, win our freedom and start our lives as a free people.”

“If this Wulfgar will let us,” Banor growled.

“He could force us to fight,” Kane suggested. “He could take our women and threaten to violate or harm them if we did not join his cause. I am sure it crossed his mind. But he did not. I think that says something of the man.”

“It only says he knows that a hopeful warrior will fight more savagely than one distracted by fear,” Banor said.

“True,” Kane said. “But something inside tells me that the man means what he says.”

“You ask us to follow your heart? Bah. You talk like a woman!” Banor began to pace the room.

“Perhaps you should ask the women what they think then,” Phaedra said.

“The men make the decisions here,” Kane said, looking first at Phaedra and then at his son. The two men locked eyes and the princess could read the unspoken message passed between them: She needed to learn her place. But Phaedra had never been one to stop herself from speaking out. Not even when it was not in her best interest.

“Would a free woman among free men be able to make speak up?” Phaedra asked. “Or would you keep us enslaved as you free yourselves?”

“Phaedra,” Gioni said. His voice was hard now. “Hold your tongue, lass.”

But she was getting angry. “No!” she said, standing. “Just because women follow men does not mean we should have no voice. This affects all of us!”

“Not you,” hissed Mara. “You are not one of us!”

“She is,” Gioni said. “I claimed her and that makes her mine.”

The slaves erupted into shouts now, with some hotly accusing Kane and Gioni of orchestrating the whole matter so his son would not be answerable to King Benedict should Wulfgar’s army fall.

Phaedra listened with growing anger, and finally stood. Her voice was imperious as she shouted down the slaves.

“I would turn myself in if I thought it would save Gioni! So do not think that this is some ruse by him or Kane! I consider myself one of you now, whether you like it or not. Gioni may have claimed me, but I consented. As a free person I consented. And I would have you all be given the same choice.”

Kane gave her a small smile. “She speaks her mind whether you want her to or not, son. Your mate is spirited.”

The others had settled down and were mulling over what they should do and Kane, having decided there’d been ample time for talk and the time had come to put it to a decision. Each man was given a stone and told to cast it into a wooden bowl if they favored joining Wulfgar. The stones were counted. There were twenty. Ten men had not cast their stones. Twice as many were in favor of making a bid for freedom.

Banor shook his head. “I disagree with this decision,” he said. “But I will not forsake my brothers. If this is what the majority wills, then so be it. But God help us if we do not prevail. Should King Benedict’s army defeat us, then we will not only return as slaves, but treacherous ones. We stand to lose as much as we stand to gain.”

He looked at Phaedra and Gioni. “I hope it will be worth it.”

“I will go speak to Wulfgar,” Kane said. “And I will also request that we be allowed some water for a bath.”

The women exclaimed excitedly at this news. It had been days and they were all grubby and uncomfortable, but none more than Princess Phaedra who was used to bathing daily and access to clean clothing when she needed it.

“You need to watch your tongue,” Gioni said. “We will speak on this later, and on other things. Remember, lass, you have yet to answer to me for running away…”

Phaedra stomach lurched in fear. She’d been so preoccupied with what had been going on she’d forgotten that Gioni was still planning to hold her accountable for her escape. She tried not to think on it as she stood now and walked over to the table to get a bite of bread. She turned to see Layla at her side.

“I admire you,” Layla said quietly. “And it’s not just because you are royal born. Sal spanks me so hard when I speak above my station. But you…” She smiled at Phaedra. “You are not afraid…”

“Perhaps it’s because I don’t yet know enough to be afraid to speak up,” Phaedra replied. “And perhaps it is because I fault the men for not utilizing our strength. We could help them. I, for one, know my father’s ways. I know something of his army and how it works. His men - at least the younger soldiers - have never fought in this terrain. Our country has known years of peace. This would be the first fight in the mountains in many, many years.”

“You should tell them!” Layla said.

“I should,” Phaedra agreed. “And I will. But I want to do more than advise.” She turned to Layla, eyes blazing. “I want to fight!”

“Fight? Fight your father?”

“Why not?” She asked. “Women can fight…”

But Layla was skeptical. “Womens are keepers of the hearth,” she said. “It is not our place to do as men do.”

Phaedra dropped the subject. The men of her world had trained their women well. Would she end up as obedient? As much as she loved Gioni’s sternness, she hoped not.