Shieldmaiden (18 page)

The winter was hard on us that year. We decided to keep eight of the cows. Olvir and the other two children worked hard collecting fodder. Kveldulf tagged along preferring their company to adults. He now called me Mummy and he had stopped asking after Lydia.

With careful housekeeping the food should last. We had slaughtered all the pigs bar two sows and the boar. Salted and smoked hams hung from the ceilings next to strings of sausages. Other meats were packed in salt in large barrels. Trout and pike had been plentiful and were dried, salted or smoked. The only thing we would find difficult to stretch through the winter was wheat and barley. Our crop had been meagre and Thora had not managed to buy more than fifteen bushels at Keswick. The bark from oak-trees would have to be dried, ground up and mixed in with the grain for bread-making.

At mid-winter, on the longest night, we held a good sacrifice. Aisgerd did me the honour of asking me to perform the ritual killing of the hog we were to offer to the Aesirs in return for their protection and to ensure the safe return of the sun. The animal was hoisted, kicking and squealing, by its hind legs to a branch of the sacred oak. I plunged the sacrificial dagger into its throat, letting the blood drain into a silver offer-bowl. We brought it back to the farm and daubed the lintels above the doors and the four corners of the hall, the dairy and the byre. The Yule log was carried in and Beorn showed Bjarne and Olvir how to start it burning from the small piece saved from last year.

‘Then you have to watch it and keep feeding it into the fire so it doesn't go out. It must last the full thirteen days and we must have a small piece to save for next year to start the new log.' Bjarne and Olvir nodded and Beorn smiled at me: ‘It's good to have some youngsters to pass the knowledge to.'

I watched the log burn and thought of the Yuletide at Swanhill. I had been big with Kveldulf, trying to make Hauk believe it was his child I expected, while I dreamt about being reunited with Ragnar. I had been bad-tempered and unfair in my treatment of servants and thralls and their resentment of me had been heavy in the air. I had cared nothing for the farm or its people, only myself. I was not proud of how I had behaved then. If only there had been time to divorce Hauk. If only Becklund hadn't been destroyed. If only my family… But there was no point in opening up old wounds.

Beorn and Bjarne brought out their flutes and Olvir used an upturned bucket for a drum. I blinked away my tears and joined in the song about summer and the happiness it would bring. Then we put up the trestle tables and shared with servants and thralls what the earth had provided. Perishable food, like offal and sausages were plentiful and we all had our fill. The ale was weak due to the shortage of barley but it was strong enough to loosen tongues usually held to silence.

‘They had a good harvest at Rannerdale,' said Gyda, glaring at her mother with red-rimmed eyes.

‘Anlaf 's lack of charity and greed got them an extra pair of hands. That monk should have been here.' Aisgerd tapped her finger on the table. ‘Things could have been very different.' She looked up as if suddenly struck by a thought. ‘And Thorfinn! He should be here! Your precious friends have robbed us of his help as well.'

I could see from Thora's face that she'd rather Gyda had kept quiet. It was never a good idea to provide Aisgerd with an excuse to unleash her pent up bitterness. But Gyda had not finished:

‘It's hardly their fault that she,' she nodded in my direction, ‘had to pay blood-money.' Everyone heard her. A thick silence settled over the household. It made the air difficult to breathe. My heart-beat quickened. I felt my cheeks blush as Gyda went on: ‘Three extra mouths to feed. My dowry gone…'

‘Shush Gyda!' Thora put her hand over Gyda's mouth. Gyda tore it away and shouted: ‘Her and her brats. It's all her fault.' She slumped over the table, resting her head on her arms. Aisgerd, redfaced, her hands in tight fists, looked at Thora:

‘You may take your sister outside. She can sleep in the byre tonight. Make her comfortable then come back here.' Thora obeyed without a word.

The next morning Gyda was gone. We searched but the muddy ground yielded no clue to where she was headed. Some of the men took the boats and searched the shores. Women and children spread out across meadows and woodland. I lent Beorn the Lame Thorfinn's stallion and he rode up on the fell to see if she'd gone to hide in the shieling. It was late afternoon before the calling and searching stopped and we returned to the farm. Aisgerd took to her bed and lay facing the wall, refusing food and drink. That's when I realised Olvir hadn't come back. I went to the stables. Moonbeam was gone. I got on Ansgar's gelding and followed the deep imprints of the horse's hooves on the track towards Rannerdale. I met Olvir by the ford. He looked more than usually pleased with himself.

‘I had to leave her at Rannerdale. Well, she wasn't ever going to come with me, was she? But she's safe at least. Mind you, I'm not sure how happy they were to see her.'

I knew he kept chattering to stop me telling him off and he kept Moonbeam at a distance to be out of my reach.

‘You should have told me where you were going. I've been worried.'

‘Yes, but I knew you'd understand and I didn't want you to come with me because of that horrible boy.'

‘What boy?'

‘The one who wanted you for his thrall-woman, Anlaf. And in case Thorfinn was there. He'd never recognise me. I'm very good at not being noticed.' He sounded very confident and, as he relaxed and came closer, I grabbed hold of his ear and shook him.

‘Don't ever do that again! You think you can get away with anything, don't you? But one of these days your luck will run out and…' I let go of his ear and put my arm round his shoulder. ‘I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you.' He rubbed his cheek on my arm. Then he looked up at me with his gap-toothed grin.

Gyda returned the next day. She was brought back by Thorfinn, perched in front of him on his horse. She slid down when they came to a halt and stood in the middle of the yard, looking at a loss. Thora came running from the byre and led her inside. Thorfinn remained standing, looking round. There was nowhere for me to hide. I took a deep breath and stepped up to him.

‘Welcome Thorfinn. We are grateful to you for returning Gyda to us.' He nodded.

‘I heard you survived. Good, you deserved to. You fought well. And you paid the blood-money. Kjeld did well by Yngvar's family.'

‘It was not Kjeld's doing. I would have made fair compensation. But I lost my husband and I have had no compensation. Thanks to Kjeld's vile slander I also lost my home.'

He looked at me and I noticed he'd changed. His eyes were no longer blood-shot, his hair was combed and he had trimmed his beard. He turned towards the house and said over his shoulder:

‘All settled by the lawmen. Nothing to be done about it now.'

He left me standing in a fog of angry confusion. I was brought back by a nudge and an urgent whisper:

‘Sigrid, you need to go in and find out what he's here for.' Olvir took my hand and led me towards the house.

‘Marry!' Aisgerd was red in the face and short of breath. ‘Marry!' I slid on to the bench and looked for Gyda. She sat slumped at the back of the hall, as far away from her mother as she could get. Thora knelt in front of her with her arms encircling the heaving shoulders. Thorfinn sat by Aisgerd with a sheepish smile on his heavy face.

‘Yes Aisgerd Rolfsdaughter, I shall marry Hrodney Rainesdaughter, Yngvar Anlafson's widow.'

‘I know who she is!' Aisgerd sat back, her lips so dark they looked blue. I got up to fetch her some ale, wishing there was strong mead at hand.

‘Calm yourself, Aisgerd,' I whispered.

‘So I…eh…I…um' Thorfinn scratched his beard. I thought I knew what was coming.

‘Yes Thorfinn, what else?' Aisgerd sounded resigned. She must have known too.

‘Well, I thought it best…what with all that's…' Thorfinn drew a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. He spoke fast, like he'd been taught what to say: ‘When your husband died, I was released of my oath to him. I just wanted to tell you I will not be a housekarl to your son. I shall settle down and be a farmer and your neighbour.' He could have added he would be her equal. I was grateful he didn't, this was hard enough for Aisgerd as it was. She closed her eyes and leant on the table.

‘So, the last one of my husband's housekarls shall abandon me to my hardship. Have you forgotten when you came crawling here, covered in blood, an arrow sticking out of your neck, with no memory of what had befallen you? Have you forgotten who cared for you, tended your wounds and fed you with her own hand until you were strong again?'

They were too involved in their talk to notice how I choked on my drink of ale and kept coughing to clear it. So that's how Thorfinn had survived our encounter by Mosedale Beck, wounded, not dead and no magic, only Aisgerd's healing touch. Through my tortured efforts to breathe, I heard Thorfinn:

‘Aisgerd Rolfsdaughter, I have not forgotten the debt I owe for your care. I will not see you and your family go short.'

‘You said you would find my son.'

‘I went looking for him. I didn't find him but I have news.'

My heart seemed to stop and then it beat so fast my whole body shook. I closed my eyes. I wanted to hear but I dreaded what he might have to say. Thorfinn looked down at his hands.

‘He was not with King Olaf 's army which … ahum… was just as well since…erm… we were badly beaten. I spoke to a man who heard that Ragnar was on his way to Neustria to offer his services to William Longsword. I… ah… I wish I could bring you better news than this.'

I stifled a sigh. The news was good enough for me. Ragnar was alive.

Thorfinn left. Aisgerd returned to her bed and stayed there. She would not speak to Gyda. The poor girl probably didn't mind. She was pale and her eyes stayed red and swollen for several days. She did her work as before but there was no singing and no stories to fill the long evenings. Before he left, Thorfinn asked me whether there was anything we needed to survive the winter. I told him we were short of grain. He did not tell me how he got away after the battle of Brunnanburh and I had not the courage to ask. I began to think he lived a charmed life as berserkers are said to do.

15.

The weeks after Thorfinn's visit were cold and windy. Then came the blizzards. The snow stung our eyes and settled on our clothes. On one side of the yard it gathered into a drift three feet high. We had to dig our way through it to get to the dairy. Whenever there was a lull in the storms we fetched in water and firewood. The beck froze and we had to smash through the ice to fill our buckets. But we kept warm around the hearth and we did not go hungry – that would come later when the stores ran low and before nature would supply us with new crops.

The storm blew itself out and the sun made the world glisten brilliant white. It made me think of Norway, where, all year round, snow lay on the tallest mountains where the giants live. My mother never spoke of her life in Norway, what I knew was from Ingefried's stories. I wondered where my mother was and whether she too looked out at a sparkling snow-field somewhere.

Beorn the Lame took Olvir and the other children ice-fishing and they brought back fresh perch. Kveldulf learnt to make snowballs and during a happy afternoon he and I built a snow-man with twigs for nose and arms and a crown of holly. Aisgerd was not well. The smallest task, the shortest walk made her struggle for breath and she spent most of the time sitting in the high seat. I took over the running of the farm. I didn't mind. I was glad to help but I worried about Thora and Gyda. I tried to ask their advice but Thora would look down and say that I must do as I saw fit. Gyda shrugged her shoulders and didn't answer at all.

Shortly before the Spring sacrifice, the time when day and night are of equal length, Thorfinn paid us another visit. He brought three bushels each of wheat and barley. Aisgerd was much encouraged by his arrival and presented him with a whole cheese in return for the grain. Thorfinn was reluctant to accept it.

‘I told you, I don't forget a debt. I won't let you go short, Aisgerd Rolfsdaughter.'

Aisgerd sat up at table and seemed almost like her old self, enquiring about his new life as a married man. Thorfinn turned red in the face and stuttered:

‘We are well over at Rannerdale and …eh..well you see.' He smiled somewhere between embarrassment and pride and he looked not handsome but a lot less ugly when he continued: ‘Hrodney is carrying my child. Sometime this summer I shall be a father.' I looked at him. There was little left in his appearance to remind me of the ferocious berserker I had fought alongside at Brunnanburh or the ruffian who tried to molest and capture me by Mosedale Beck. It wasn't just the neat hair and beard. He seemed calm, almost subdued. I couldn't help wondering how long it would last. I joined Aisgerd in congratulating him and wishing Hrodney an easy birth.

It turned out to be more than Hrodney's influence that had changed Thorfinn.

‘I have been baptised,' he said. ‘The blessed Brother Ansgar has led me and Hrodney to become Christians, all our servants and thralls also. It is quite wondrous how my life has changed since Hrodney took me in.'

‘And your step-son, Anlaf, is he well too?' Thora spoke from where she sat with her arm round her sister. I could see Thorfinn struggling for the right words and I realised what had befallen poor Gyda when she turned up at Rannerdale after her row with Aisgerd.

‘Anlaf Yngvarson is well. He…ah, that is to say, we…' Aisgerd interrupted him:

‘There was never an understanding between us regarding those two. Don't feel disconcerted. My daughter brought shame on herself and her family by running away and throwing…'

Gyda stood up and screamed: