This is a chapter that touches on some reactions to Drustina's undisclosed duality when she is injured and forced to undergo treatment. Firstly however, she has to teach a thieving village headman a lesson about horse theft. The outcome is slightly unexpected but Drustina uses the outcome to later teach a young boy a good lesson in compassion and honesty.

After the injury, the jarl's wife (Countess Etheline,) elects to nurse Drustina. She discovers Drustina's 'genital deformities and is at first angry about the supposed 'deception however, later, as she learns Drustina's story from Tara, Countess Etheline is astounded to learn that the 'deforemed sexual Monster' left to her charge turns out to be her saviour.

The Angry Mermaid 49.

Or

Y Morforwyn Dicllon 49.

Mabina. The youngest daughter and Twin to
Drustan Her twin brother.
Grandpa Erin the twins grandfather.
Giana The twins grandmother
Caderyn The twins father.
Herenoie The twins wise and beautiful mother.
Morgaran The Twins oldest brother.
Aiofe The twins oldest sister. Famous for her beauty.
Tara The twins second oldest sister. Famous for her grace.
Feidlim Twins aunt (Caderyns’ beautiful sister.)
Mogantu Twins uncle (Married to Feidlim.) Chief of the Gangani tribe.
Brun. Twins 2nd cousin and the Acaman clans’ blacksmith.
Feorin. Twins second brother. Also training to be a blacksmith.
Rhun Feidlims’ son and Feorins’ favourite 1st Cousin. (Both red-heads.)
Arina Child of a Demetae fisherman, (rescued by Aiofe, Drustan and Mabina.)
Penderol Dumnonii Minor chief.
Udris Young Dumnonii warrior.
Dryslwyn High chief of the whole Celtic nation. Dwells in Brithony.
Bronlwyn Dryslwyn’s wife (and queen.)
Magab The moor who taught numbers.
Eric Saxon galley slave rescued from Corsair pirates.
Carl Another Saxon galley slave rescued by Drustan.
Torvel Celtic galley slave rescued from the same captured corsair ship
Arton. Turdetani Chieftain Holder of Gibral Rock.
Carinia Arton’s wife.
Isobel. Arton’s adopted daughter.
Appotel King of the Turdetani Tribe. (Southern Iberia.)
Bramana Queen. (Wife of Appotel)
Pilus King of the Capetani.
Shaleen Pilus’s queen and sister to Bramana.
Pedoro Lord Marshal of the Southern border region.
Lady Shulaar Lord Pedoro’s wife.
Taan. The scullery maid.
Isaar. Pedoro’s oldest son.
Ferdie Pedoro’s 2nd son
Sular Pedoro’s 3rd son
Gontala Pedoro’s youngest son.
Shenoa Pedoro’s only daughter.
Portega. Tyrant King to the west.
Portua. Portega’s grandson.
Jubail. Old Fisherman.
Mutas Magab’s younger brother and usurper.
Walezia King of Malta.
Alviar Megalomaniacal bishop of Carthage. (Hates Drustina.)
Ethelia Female healer who treats Drustina during her pregnancy.
Seripatese Drustina’s faithful horse.
Astos & Amitor Minor royalty who govern Alexandria. King and Twin Queen.
Meronee Nubian Queen of Nobatia The northern Kingdom of the Nubians.
Horam The Egyptian master Boat builder.
Muraa King Astos’s male partner.
Tuk Makurian general.
Fantu. Makurian Captain.
Irene Emperor Leon’s only child.
Leon Byzantine Emperor.
Zano Byzantine general who defeats the Bulgars with Drustina’s help.
Urthos The Gaul elected captain of the 4th ship. Ex Barbary galley slave.
Horus Horam the boat-builder’s son.
Sister Catherine Leader of the pirate nuns.

Drustina’s brave little fleet now numbered five ships for the nun’s ‘pirate’ ship had been added to their number. The flotilla cleared the River Vistula and paid its final respects to the towns of Gdan and Gdyn before setting off into strange new waters that were reputed to be still swarming with Norse traders who were not averse to a bit of piracy and slaving as an addition to their normal mercantile activities. However, a flotilla of five ships was usually seen as more of a threat than a prize and in nearly all instances any sails appearing on the horizon, usually slipped discretely away rather than approach. Rumours that the ‘Fleet of Five’ had routed a pirate’s nest in Pola had grown out of all proportion all over the Baltic as the spring thaws allowed further and further trading as the sea ice retreated.

The band of adventurers however stayed close together and kept the land on their port side as they steered for what the Danes amongst them called ‘De Store Baelt’. A Dane called Heingist was the most knowledgeable of the few Norseman amongst them, he knew the Danish archipelago and he spoke several languages. Drustina had fought alongside him, shoulder to shoulder in the Bulgar wars and therefore trusted Heingist despite his being a Dane. He explained that of the several passages through the Danish archipelago, the Storebelt was not the shortest but it was the widest, with the slowest tidal currents and the most sea-room to fight or run if they had to. Drustina probed him for more information and the Dane related his past.

“I am Heingist of Holkenhavn and my home city is Odens my lady, we will pass within sight of the fortress at Nyborg when we navigate the Storbaelt. Perhaps I at least can persuade the Nyborg fortress to allow us unhindered passage even if we have to pay.”
“Will you be leaving us when we arrive there?”

The Dane frowned nervously.

“Probably not my lady. I left under a bit of a cloud. There was a dispute over some land between my family and the local Jarl. I killed the Jarl’s second son during an argument before the king’s court settled the issue. It was that death that forced the king to act and properly investigate the dispute. Our family won the dispute but I was sent into exile for ten years. The king objected to having one of his nobility killed by a commoner even though I was the son of a freeman.”

Drustina smiled.

“Seems like a pretty lenient punishment for killing somebody. Is the exile finished?”

“No my lady, I have been away seven summers.”

“Will they recognise you Heingist?”

“I don’t know. I’ve aged somewhat. The Constantinople sun has weathered me and I’ve grown a beard. I was not yet a man when I fought the Jarls’ son, he thought he could kill a mere boy, but I proved him wrong.”

Drustina smiled and gave the man a kiss on the forehead. He recoiled nervously wondering why the lady, the ‘Lioness’ no less; had shown such emotion. Then Drustina explained.

“I know all about fighting Jarls my comrade. I did exactly as you when I was but a boy. My god man! You’re a warrior after my own heart. Now, for a disguise, we could have the women colour your hair before we meet to negotiate a passage. Maybe blacken it with ash or something. That blond colour rather gives you away.”

“I was darker than this before I left my lady. The middle sea sun has bleached it. I don’t think they will recognise me now; I’m older, taller, fairer hair and darker skin as well as being stronger.”

“Good man; and you know the waters well?”

“Aye ma-am. We fished as well as farmed.”

“Good. I’ll take you into my crew as a pilot. When we are though the straits you can return to Erics’ ship or remain with me as you wish.”

Heingist frowned and Drustina realised he had something else on his mind. She caught his pensive expression and dragged it out of him.

“Go on man. Spit it out; what’s bothering you?”

Heingist hesitated then replied.

“I’d dearly like to know how my family’s farm is doing ma-am. When I was exiled, I was the only son so there was only my father and my sisters left to run the farm ... and inherit it.” He added quietly.

Drustina sensed the man’s concerns, she had seen her own lands stolen and knew fully the grief such a loss invoked. She tried to reassure him.

“What are the inheritance laws in Danmark?”

Heingist shrugged dispiritedly.

“There isn’t much of any law my lady. Yes, there are laws, but they usually have to be enforced from a position of strength and that often means a man and his sons and their swords.”

“But what of the king’s writ. You saw how it worked in Pola, the kings duty is to enforce laws drawn up in council. Does not Danmark have a similar system?”

“Yes ma-am; well on paper yes, yes of course; but a piece of parchment with some law scribbled upon it serves little purpose when confronted by force.”

“Force? Who’s force?”

“The Jarl whose son I fought ...”

“And killed, “Drustina finished thoughtfully.

Heingist nodded despondently and Drustina tried to cheer him up.

“Well let’s not jump to conclusion yet. The king must enforce the law.”

Heingist wagged his head then added.

“The old king ... King Harald would have, and indeed he did while he reigned, but he has been dead these past four years. Only three years after my exile, his son Arthun ascended the throne and he is a weak, vacillating man.”

“Go on.” Drustina pressed.

“Well the council of jarls have more or less taken control. The new king is more concerned with the pleasures of — of — of the flesh. He allowed the all-thing to be disbanded and there is little law abroad in Danmark these days. I fear for my sisters and my elderly parents for the Jarl of Odens is a particularly vindictive man”

Drustina fell silent as a fortuitous squall took her attention. The hands set to about the sail as the Mermaid started to hop and skip amongst the short, steep, foam whitened waves. Drustina tended the tiller whilst simultaneously ensuring that none of her companion ships came to grief. The squall shrieked in the rigging, and for almost an hour the men struggled in deadly, silent earnest until the squall passed and the sea resumed its shimmering pewter hue. When calm returned, Drustina had forgotten Heingist’s concerns. Nothing more was said of them until the flotilla sighted Bornholm on the starboard side to the north of their route. By unanimous decision it was decided to stop overnight to replenish water and graze the few horses including Seripatese.

In those days, the island of Bornholm was frequently fought over and with each battle the local population would either ‘up sticks’ or change allegiances. Any visitor who arrived unannounced and uninvited was naturally presumed to be a predator or invader. Consequently visitors got a pretty rude reception unless the islanders knew who they were. Drustina’s flotilla was deemed to be an aggressive visit simply because the flotilla numbered five ships.

Heingist warned Drustina of the dangers so they approached the island with considerable circumspection. Finally they chose a fairly remote location and got their horses ashore in the early evening before the islanders realised they had visitors.
It was the following morning and Drustina was with other crew-members rounding up their horses ready to re-embark when representatives arrived from the people living in a village nearby. It was then the Saxons realised several horses were missing including Seripatese. Drustina was pretty upset for they had grazed the horses on unbounded common land that showed no sign of ownership or agriculture. When the group of islanders appeared Drustina asked Heingist to inquire about the missing horses. One of the islanders spoke aggressively.

“You have no right to graze your horses here. It is our land.”

Drustina looked about her at the rough heath and scrub. Then she had Heingist translate.

“It does not look as though the land has title and it certainly has not been husbanded. I do not even see signs of sheep or cattle or the plough.”

“Nevertheless it is our land. We live on the island therefore it is ours.”

Drustina shrugged. She did not want to cause enmity and she particularly wanted Seripatese back. She offered to pay for the grazing from her own purse to avoid any of her men becoming embroiled in any argument.

“I will pay you for any grazing we have enjoyed but we want our animals returned.”

“How much?”

“How much do you think is a fair price? For the grazing that is. We will not pay to have our horses returned.”

The islanders spoke amongst themselves and finally decided a price. To Drustina it seemed a fair price, compared to other deals she had struck concerning her little army and the dozen or so accompanying horses she had occasionally paid for when staying at various camps during their long journey. She turned to her companions and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Are you happy with the deal gentlemen?”

The Saxons and Drustina chatted amongst themselves in Latin for a few moments and finally agreed the price. It was obvious that the Islanders were now kicking themselves for not asking for more. The missing horses were reproduced and the Saxon’s quickly noticed that two particular animals were still missing, Seripatese and another beautifully marked mare belonging to Tara. She had bought it from one of the Russ nobles on the Prypayet marshes after helping to save his wife in childbirth. When the two mares failed to appear, Drustina immediately challenged the islanders and the man who now appeared to be some sort of village elder or leader stepped from among the crowd.

“Those are our horses. We don’t know where your animals have strayed to.”

Drustina rankled at the naked lie for she readily recognised both the stolen mares amongst the villagers herd. Seripatese had even raised her head and whinnied at the sound of Drustina’s voice. She couldn’t come to her mistress however because she and Tara’s mare Capenda were both tethered to a post. At first Drustina was minded to make the point of her argument with her sword but Heingist, ever the height of tact and circumspection, intervened.

“Where is the Jarl of the island?” He asked the leading villager.”

“Why do you ask?” The villager replied.

“Let the Jarl decide. He can hold the horses then each claimant can do what he or she has to demonstrate ownership.”

Drustina grinned and there was a chorus of agreement from Drustina’s band. Everybody knew that Seripatese was the most faithful mare they had ever seen. On the villagers’ side there was a subdued murmuring while the lead villager protested.

“My mare is newly bought. She is not yet accustomed to my command.”

Heingist intervened in Danish.

“That would be for the Jarl to decide, if you can show proof of purchase he would have to accept your word, but the Jarl must decide. That is his duty as Bornholms’ representative of the king in Cubenhavn.”

“We cannot bother the Jarl with such a trivial dispute,” the villager protested.

“You cannot afford not to.” Heingist continued. “This lady is the Lioness of Carthage and she is making her way to pay her respects to King Arthun. If she has complaints about the kings peace on Bornholm the Jarl will not take kindly to having his governorship shown wanting. Justice must be seen to be done.”

Drustina smiled. It seemed Heingist was a bit of a politician as well as a man seemingly bent on justice. The villager’s expression stiffened with fear and suspicion as he realised he might have got in over his head. Still, as the headman of his village, he could not be seen to lose face.

“And what or who is ‘The Lioness of Carthage’?”

Drustina did not rankle at this seeming snub. The headmans’ question told more of the mans’ ignorance than Drustina’s lack of fame. She interceded softly.

“If you need to ask that question, then perhaps you better had speak to your Jarl. I’m quite sure he can enlighten you.”

The village headman sneered arrogantly but realised he was in no position to take the landing party by force. Every one of them was armed including the girl and even though his villagers outnumbered them, an attempt at capturing them would certainly involve unnecessary bloodshed. Instead he recovered some of his dignity by agreeing to Drustinas' suggestion

“Very well, we will take this issue to the Jarl. His castle is but ten miles from here.”

“We will ride.” Drustina declared knowing that Seripatese would very likely throw any rider if Drustina gave her the signal.

“Then I will ride the mare.” The headman declared, thinking that after riding the contested animal for that sort of distance, he would have some sort of control over it when they met the Jarl. The other villagers accompanied the head-man on assorted horses from the villagers’ own flock.

Drustina shrugged and all her companions except Heingist drew lots as to who would accompany her to the capital town of Rhunne. There were not enough horses to go around.

Noon found twenty mounted villagers plus Drustina, Heingist, Tara and seven other Saxons clattering noisily through the cobbled streets of Rhunne. The Jarl emerged to discover what was causing the commotion. The riders pulled up at the bottom of the castle steps as the Jarl stood looking down at them. Then introductions were made in Danish by Heingist.

The village headman then explained his version of the story while Drustina kept her counsel. Heingist translated into Saxon as fast as he could but in the main, Drustina listened uncomprehendingly to the concoction of half truths that the village headman cooked up until finally the Jarl turned to her.

“Is all this true?” He asked in Danish.

Drustina stared vacantly for a moment until Heingist translated then she spoke to Heingist in Latin.

“Partly, Drustina conceded”, “but it’s a confection of half truths.”

Her using Latin immediately alerted the Jarl to the fact that he was dealing with somebody of some status. In the Norse lands, Latin was rarely heard except in priestly mouths and those of the educated nobility. The Jarls’ own Latin was just barely comprehensible, but he immediately changed to Latin just to demonstrate his status as an educated noble. Heingist was just about to translate Drustina’s reply when the Jarl interrupted.

“It is all right Mistress Drustina. I have Latin, both spoken and written.”

Drustina’s belly sagged a little with relief, firstly at the jarl’s changing to Latin and secondly at his form of address. By calling her ‘mistress’ (for he knew nothing of her titles,) he was acknowledging her status. They continued their account in Latin and the Jarl listened thoughtfully. Finally, after some further argument he declared his decision.

“Firstly I think I’m right in believing these ten horses belong to the visitors.”

Drustina felt her belly tighten with satisfaction at not having been called invaders. ‘Visitors’ was a much friendlier description and averted any potential for the dispute to escalate into violence.

Everybody agreed that the aforementioned ten horses were the visitors’ property, so the Jarl moved on.

“It appears that these two animals, the white mare and the well marked blue mare are the ones disputed. I can readily see that they are fine animals and therefore why they are disputed.”

Both sides agreed this and the Jarl nodded with satisfaction.

“Very well, it remains for each of you to prove your ownership. Take the villagers horses and the two disputed animals to the paddock without the town walls. There each person can demonstrate by whatever means they can contrive, their rightful ownership of whatever animals they can. Whosoever can cause whatever animals to come to their command shall have title to those animals.”
It wasn’t a very satisfactory arrangement but the Jarl was a man who liked simple solutions. As a horseman himself he had a close affinity to his own mounts and deemed this the best solution. Drustina could see the village headman seething with dissatisfaction but he dared not raise an objection. The herd of horses was duly released into the paddock.

Each villager claimant was invited to demonstrate his ownership of various animals. In most instances their ownership was determined by default insofar as Drustina did not dispute the villagers’ claims no matter how unimpressive their efforts to reclaim their horses were. Eventually only three animals remained unclaimed. Seripatese, Capenda and a very lively, magnificent, young stallion that simply refused to come at the call of any of the villagers. It was obvious that the villager who claimed the stallion was very upset for he was a young lad who obviously had not had time to form any sort of relationship with the skittish horse. Drustina smiled inwardly for she spotted several opportunities. Firstly she would teach the greedy headman of the village a lesson then teach the distressed lad a better lesson. Finally after every effort had been made by the boy to get his horse to his side, the jarl became impatient.

“Well. It remains for these two visiting ladies to demonstrate their title.” He turned expansively to the sisters and swept his arm towards the trio of horses. “Ladies! Be my guests.”

Drustina exchanged a knowing smile with Tara then both women stepped into the large paddock and snapped their fingers. Both mares came immediately to their call and of course the stallion also followed closely, snorting and snuffing as he drew back his upper lip to test the delicious odours offered by the two strange mares. Seripatese and Capenda were in season.
The village headman immediately howled his protest.

“It is a trick! The blasted mares are on heat. The stallion belongs to my nephew. It was a bloody birthday present.”

The Jarl remained adamant and looked contemptuously towards the headman as he spoke sharply.

“None of you villagers can demonstrate control of the stallion yet it stands obediently between the mares with the woman Drustina peacefully holding only its mane. I declare those three horses the property of these two women.”
With that there was a wail of despair from the boy and he leapt over the rails to sprint towards the stallion. The frisky animal, still only four years old, started to prance and rear nervously as Drustina struggled to hold its head. She cursed the boy and shouted to him to desist but the boy was too distraught to heed her warnings. The jarl cursed loudly and several guards dashed after the boy but they were too late. As the stallion reared fearfully the boy inadvertently stumbled under its flailing forefeet. Drustina cursed and screeched to her beloved mare.

“Back! Seripatese, back!"

As Drustina ducked sideways and down to avoid Seripatese’s blind reversal she flung herself across the boy’s prostrate form. The stallion became further frightened by the confusion of mare and humans struggling beneath its hooves and it let out a scream of fear as it started to drop forward onto all fours again. Drustina looked up in terror as the thrashing stallions’ hooves started to descend then she felt Seripatese’s hoof stepping sideways where she lay. Drustina squirmed frantically sideways and dragged as much of the boy as she could under her beloved mares’ belly as the stallion dropped heavily onto Seripatese’s quarters.

Seripatese let out a squeal of surprise and pain as one of the flailing hooves slashed down her withers and cut her fearsomely. She lurched sideways in pained surprise and inadvertently landed her other hoof on Drustina’s leg. Both Mare and woman reacted by second nature insofar as they were battle trained to work as one unit. The mare finally steadied herself and spread her rear legs as Drustina grasped the mares’ forelegs and dragged herself with the boy forward out of the way of the stallions’ legs. She lay there gasping desperately between Seripatese’s forelegs whilst Seripatese protected her mistress by reluctantly accepting what she patently did not want. Penetration by an immature horse.

By now the boy was squealing with fear until Tara came to her senses. Seeing that her sisters’ leg appeared badly injured, she released Capenda who bolted across the paddock while she bent down and seized Drustina.
Drustina batted Tara’s hands away and motioned to the terrified boy.

“Get him out of the way!” Drustina gasped. “He’s only making things worse with his squealing. Seripatese will cover me until this randy bloody stallion has finished.”

Tara looked up nervously at the snorting stallions’ flared nostrils and her courage failed her. She reluctantly signalled to the guards. Instead, the only man to show sense enough was the Jarl himself. He had already cleared the fence and was sprinting towards the melee of horses and humans. He grabbed the boy with his powerful arms and yanked him clear before lifting him angrily to his feet and cursing him.

“You stupid little bugger! If that woman is hurt, you will answer to me!”

The boy ran whimpering to his uncle while the jarl cautiously returned to the woman lying between the mares’ front hooves. Drustina looked up with a face grey with pain as the jarl asked.

“The mare; is she battle trained?”

“She won’t move, but watch that bloody stupid stallion. Keep away from its teeth!”

Those were Drustina’s last conscious words as the pain from her injured leg overwhelmed her.

The Jarl was well used to horses so he dropped to his knees and crawled under Seripatese’s nose as he prepared to drag Drustina’s prostrate body clear. At first he made soothing noises before he realised the mare was completely calm. Seripatese nuzzled Drustina’s body and the Jarl stroked her nose as he finally dragged Drustina clear while speaking softly to the mare.

“Good girl. You did well to protect your mistress. You might as well enjoy the stallion's efforts now.”

Once he had the unconscious woman clear he called to his guards.

“Don’t just stand there gawping you fools! Take her to my castle.”

In the castle the jarl had Drustina laid gently into his own bed and the bone-setter was sent for. While she was still unconscious and before Tara or any of Drustina’s comrades were able to attend, the jarls’ wife started to undress her with the help of her lady in waiting. In the last year Drustina had been living so deeply as a woman, none of her comrades had even thought about her duality. So strong was her charisma as a leader and queen that the men had come to think of her always as a queen and a brave, indefatigable, warrior queen at that. So much so that when she was carried into the castle by the Jarls’ guards none of her comrades remembered to warn the Jarl, much less his genteel newly wedded wife the Countess Etheline. When she undressed Drustina, her shock was palpable as she made her discovery.

oOo

“Guthrun!!” She screeched as she replaced Drustinas’ jerkin and sheet immediately.

“Yes dear.”

“Why didn’t you bloody warn me!!!?”

“Warn you of what?” Guthrun replied; shocked at his wife’s completely uncharacteristic decent into profanity.

“This ... this freak!”

“What freak?”

“This thing... this man thing!”

“What d’you mean — man thing?”

“Take a look!”

Guthrun watched as his wife flung back the sheet and raised the hem of her jerkin to reveal Drustina’s duality.

“My God! What is she ... he ...it?”

“I don’t know but you’d better close that bloody door. This thing might be some sort of witch or warlock or even a troll in disguise.”

“Oh don’t be stupid darling. She just saved a boy’s life. Except for ... that,” Guthrun pointed towards Drustina’s masculinity before continuing, “she’s every bit a girl. Besides, a troll wouldn’t show any sort of compassion or care for a child.”

“Troll, goblin or whatever. I want it out of here now!”

“She can’t be moved now.” Guthrun snapped irritably. “Not until the bone setter sorts out that leg! I’ll go and get that other girl. They claim to be sisters — though I can’t see how.”

“Yes. You’d better. We might get some more sense out of her than you.”

Guthrun left while his wife plucked up more courage and gently touched Drustina’s breast. Drustina stirred slightly, twitched then gave a soft sigh but failed to stir or waken. Etheline immediately stepped back and prepared to defend herself. Tara found Etheline still in a defensive pose when she entered.

“What’s wrong my lady?!” She asked the Danish noblewoman.

“Are you related to this ... this creature?”

“Yes. She’s my sister. And she’s not a creature!”

“Sister! Sister you say? Then what’s that man thing where a woman’s parts should be.”

Tara became defensive.

“She used to be my brother, my younger brother. We grew up together but she turned into a ‘man/woman thing’, as you call her, when puberty arrived.”

“That’s impossible!”

“You might think so but it’s true. She has born four children and fathered a son.”

“How can she have born children. She’s got a cock!”

“Did you check completely? Did you look behind her cock?”

“Well I ... well no, I didn’t actually.”

Tara removed the sheet again and gently raised the flaccid organ to reveal a definite female opening, next she gently squeezed the labia to expose two noticeable lumps where there would normally have been two soft crinkly flaps. Etheline peered in closely to get a better look then gasped.

“My god. You’re right! She has both. She’s both man and woman!”

Drustina let out a soft mumble of discomfort and Tara gently released the pressure on her sisters’ labia. The little lumps gently receded back up into the labia and except for the obvious penis, the rest of the crotch looked distinctly feminine. Etheline frowned then looked directly into Tara’s eyes.

“And you say you grew up with her, from since you were children.”

“I was there when they were born. Her and her twin sister Mabina.”

“She has a twin?”

“Yes. Ask Carl and Eric, the Saxon lieutenants. They fought in Iberia and her sister Mabina was crowned queen of Portua.

They can best relate all the adventures.”

“I will have my husband question them. Best that men talk to men. But that begs the next question, do you treat your leader as man or woman?”

“The men treat her as their warrior queen and she has earned their adoration. To outward appearances, I also treat her as such because she rescued me from a life of slavery. However to me, in my heart, she is still my younger brother though her appearance belies that perception I think you will agree. It’s just that when we were growing up, she was always my little brother and I find it hard to change that.”

“Well, I must confess, you’re right; she looks more woman than man to me despite that — that thing.”

Etheline fell to further studying Drustina’s sommulent form and then noticed the long flensing scar down her inner forearm.

“Where did she get that.”

“In one of her many battles. She has many scars. Wait until the bone-setter comes and you will see an even greater scar. You cannot see it yet because she lies on her back.”

Etheline fell to studying Drustina’s body even closer and soon noticed the dozen or so lesser scars.

“She been well used in battle.” Etheline remarked as she ran her fingers over Drustina’s golden, tanned skin then added. “Look at this skin; it may be smooth and soft but it’s not really a woman’s hide is it? Not with all those scars.”

“She started as boy remember,” Tara replied, “and a very angry, tormented boy at that. She thought she had lost her whole family except her two sisters, then she and I found each other at the other ends of the earth. And, yes; you are right, she has been through many battles. When the bone setter turns her to straighten that leg you will see her most famous scar, namely the scar she got from Blueface before she killed him.”

“Ethelines’ face went white with shock as a huge shadow crossed her countenance.”

“Oh my God. Is this is the one!? Is this is the boy who killed Blueface. Blueface the bully, Blueface the Slaver, Blueface the cruel! Blueface the brute, Blueface the man I was contracted to marry!"

Tara tensed uncertainly; ready to put herself between her helpless sister and the agitated countess. Lady Etheline noticed Taras’ defensive posture and smiled assurance.

“No, no dear Tara, there is no need to be so defensive! No! I am not angry. I am overcome with joy and wonder. This boy — no, this woman did me a huge favour. Blueface was a brutal warlord who invariably got or took whatever he wanted because he won battles and that suited the king. When he spotted me as a girl, he more or less threatened to destroy our family if he could not have me as his bride. I was sickened by my father’s acquiescence but it was that or see the whole family suffer. Blueface was one of the premier jarls of all Norseland, all Scandia no less. In fact, men went in fear of him from the Northern Lights to Dumnonia and from the Russ to Groenland.

Ah Dumnonia! That name will always mean peace and salvation to me for it is the land where Blueface died. Then the news came back on wings of fire that Blueface was dead, I danced for a full night. My family rejoiced at the news but none more than me. Just fancy... such a huge giant of a man, killed in a fight by a mere slip of a lad; a boy of just thirteen summers. And now I have that same boy here just nine years later. The boy who saved my family and me; the boy who enabled me to choose my husband, the boy who inadvertently liberated me from that dreadful fate. Have you any idea woman, how much I owe this boy?”

Tara was struck dumb with surprise. There was nothing she could say. For a moment the room was bathed in silence then Guthrun returned with the bone setter; a sturdily built woman in her thirties. Etheline stepped aside as the bone setter pulled back the bed sheet and gasped momentarily as she encountered the sexual incongruence. Then she recovered her composure and studied the bent leg. After running knowledgeable fingers up and down the limb she pronounced confidently.

“It may not be broken, just badly dislocated at the knee. Go and get some guards, strong ones at that.”

Etheline motioned impatiently to Tara.

“Quickly girl, you heard the woman.”

Tara rankled slightly at the countesses’ presumption of authority and she refused point blank.

“Thank you I’ll stay here and guard my sister. You fetch the guards.”

Etheline stared at Tara with shock. As the wife of the Jarl, the supreme authority on the Island, she was not used to being disobeyed. Tara repeated her refusal but this time explained in Latin.

“I saw that bone-setter woman’s reaction to my sisters’ secrets; I’ll see my sister comes to no harm thank you.”

Guthrun gave an impatient snort and stomped out of the room shouting over his shoulder.

“I’ll bloody fetch the guards. The sooner this is done the bloody better.” His last words as he stormed into the alleyway
were, “Women! always bloody bickering!”

He returned with four strong men and the bone setter wasted no time in having the guardsmen apply traction whilst she manipulated the knee. There was a loud ‘click’ and Drustina suddenly screamed in agony before sitting bolt upright and cursing. The bone-setter knew enough to ‘duck’ but two of the guards received the full force of Drustina’s unexpected fist. The pain had wrenched her from her stupor. It was only a womanly fist and driven by a weakened, sleep besotted arm so it did not do any serious harm; nevertheless, the guardsmen cursed as they felt its malignancy.

“Damn! She hurts!” The younger guard grunted.

“Count yourself lucky there was no sword or dagger in that hand,” Tara grinned. “You’d be dead now. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, she’s delirious with pain.”

The bone setter interrupted any more banter.

“Turn her over. That ankle looks badly bruised.”

As the guardsmen gently rotated Drustina’s pain-wracked form everybody gasped when they saw the huge scar. Countess Etheline was the first to comment as she turned to Tara.”

“Is that the scar?”

“Do you see any other scar?” Tara replied as Guthrun and the guards stared disbelievingly at the immense defacement of what would otherwise have been a deliciously, curvy female bum.

“How in the hell did she get that?” Guthrun asked.

Etheline explained and Guthrun smiled with astonishment.

“So dear Etheline, this is the angel who brought you and me together?”

Etheline nodded as the bone-setter stood up and pronounced.

“I think the ankle bone might be broken. I can’t find any obvious deformity but that’s one hell of a nasty bruise. The mare must have somehow stamped on it. It will need setting but there’s no deformity thank God. She’s been a bloody lucky woman.”
Guthrun ran his coarse hand up and down the unconscious Drustina’s arse scar and grinned ironically.

“D’you call that luck?”

“She’s alive isn’t she?” The bone setter riposted. “Anyway, any one of those big scars could have caused her death, not to mention the smaller arrow puncture scars."

Etheline smacked Guthruns’ wrist.

“Get your dirty paws off her you pervert!”

Guthrun was about to chuckle until he met Tara’s furious stare then he sobered up.

“Sorry lady but you must admit, she’s got a fine body ... despite all the bloody scars.”

Etheline finally lost patience with her husband and scolded him as she ordered him from their bedroom. Guthrun slinked away pretending remorse but secretly grinning to himself that he had thoroughly groped the Lioness of Carthages’ arse.

Etheline and Tara helped the bone-setter attend the ankle and the stout woman explained.

“It’s hard to tell but I think the bone might only be chipped or cracked. It’s a strong, healthy, young ... uuhhm -”

“Woman,” Tara finished for her. “And it’s SHE not it!”

The bone-setter nodded sagely then continued.

“Yes; very well, woman then. Well anyway, she’s strong and healthy but she won’t be moving about without crutches for a couple of weeks to a month. Best keep her abed for a couple of days then let her go about on crutches. I know how active people hate to be bed-ridden.”

Etheline nodded then called the guards back.

“Once the bone-setter is finished, put her in the antechamber next to this room. I’ll see her safe from any untoward attentions.”

At this Tara let out an involuntary snort that finished as a stifled chuckle.

“What is so funny?” Etheline demanded.

“She’ll brook no ‘untoward attentions’ my lady. Just ask her lieutenants. The warrior queen is well able to defend herself even abed with a bad leg. Sword or dagger, she’ll make short work of uninvited guests, indeed you’d best warn your servants. Or, if you prefer, I’ll attend her myself with your permission.”

“Yes. I think that’s best,” Etheline agreed, for she was always conscious of the burdens her own staff faced and any additional work might cause resentment.

“Thank you countess and might I beg that her twins be allowed to share the room with her. This enforced convalescence will give her an opportunity to spend a goodly spell with them without interruptions.”

Etheline nodded agreement and they left the bone-setter to finish her work as they joined Guthrun outside in the castle courtyard. The village headman was remonstrating about the precious stallion.

“But it’s my nephew’s horse! He is in despair to lose it! It was deeded to him by his father before the accident.”

“A ruling is a ruling!” The jarl snapped back. Whosoever managed to bring whatever animals under their control has demonstrated their title. Both mares and the horse belong to the warrior queen, who I might remind you, bravely saved your nephew’s life! The boy is obviously not ready to own such a lively spirited animal. It is too fine a horse for such a young boy anyway.”
The village headman turned away seething with anger. He had been forced to admit his own nefarious efforts had cost him his respect but now the boy’s rightful title to a fine horse the whole village had come to love, was lost to a mere woman. He turned and stamped angrily away for he dreaded meeting his nephews’ tears.

That evening Urthos and Eric came to see Drustina who was awake, impatient at the pain in her ankle and already frustrated at her immobility.

“Are the ships okay?” She demanded.

“Yes Dru,” Eric replied. “We now have a safe haven in the harbour just below your window. The horses are gathered in the paddock and share the Jarls’ protection as well as ours. Sister Catherine is organising the camp with Carl.”

“Camp! Camp! God-dammit! I only intended to stop overnight until the horses were grazed!”

“Well we’re stuck here until your stupid ankle is mobile if not healed. Blame yourself for your stupidity saving that boy.” Eric scolded her.

“You’d have let him die I suppose.” Drustina growled. “He’s only a bloody child.”

A new voice interrupted their argument.

“Yes, a boy of thirteen no less, the same age as you when you got rid of Blueface.”

Drustina and her lieutenants turned with surprise at the sound of Ethelines’ voice for she and Guthrun had arrived to see how their patient was faring. Drustina replied.

“That was different your ladyship. And how did you learn of that?”

Guthrun let out a low chuckle.

“Come now Drustina. It’s all around the town. The bone-setter and four guards saw your scar, not to mention me, and Countess Etheline. Besides, Tara never misses an opportunity to sing your praises.”

Etheline smiled and nodded as Drustina frowned and remarked.

“Will that bloody tale always follow me around?”

“Just like a tail follows its dog,” Eric laughed. “Especially with that spectacular scar that always invites interest.”

“Yeah, well enough. Is there anymore of that broth?”

Eric exchanged smiles with Guthrun and Urthos as the Countess laid out the small tray of bread, meat and hot broth.

“She’s getting better, her appetite’s back.” Urthos laughed.

“She never lost it!” Drustina snapped, piqued at being spoken of as a third party in her own company.

“Be quiet and eat lady.” Eric censured her. “We want you up and about soon. Spring is well upon us and if we are to reach Saxony then Britannia by summer, this delay does not favour us.”

Drustina was about to snap that she knew that well enough but she ‘bit her tongue’ and waded into the food. The silence prompted the men to leave while Etheline stayed with Drustina to stop her getting bored. Then Tara appeared with the twins and Drustina savoured the female company and her toddler pair. The played with the twins as the two women lay on the bed and they chatted at length about many things. The sun was long set before the women finally separated for their own beds. Drustina had the twins put in a separate cot beside her bed; it would not do to have the babies bumping her pain-wracked leg.