Chapter 24

Forgiveness

S igurd turned away and followed Fergus in the direction of the barn, angrily, with a rein in each hand.

‘Sigurd.’ I walked after him. ‘I need to speak with you about the women.’

He did not reply but snorted and carried on walking.

‘Are you away ta brood in the barn with the swine?’ I said sharply. ‘They’re welcome to you!’

Brigid’s moon face stared at me; mouth open before she quickly herded the two women inside the house.

‘I’ll see them by the fire. Do not take too long,’ she called over her shoulder as she closed the door.

I stalked off in the direction of the barn. He was behaving like my sister, sullen and moody. I had done nothing wrong. How could he not see that these women did not deserve to be given to some man who would use them for his pleasure?

As I arrived in the small barn Sigurd was removing the last saddle and whispering to the horse with more love than he was willing to show me.

‘What is it?’ I demanded. ‘You are sullen like a child because I wanted to free the women that I had purchased?’

‘Sullen!’ he said, hotly. ‘You have just shown complete disrespect for your Jarl! If it had been anyone else that had shown me such disrespect, I would have taken their head clean from their shoulders!’

‘Disrespect? You want me to take these women and treat them as thralls? Do you want me to allow men to rape them? To do to them whatever they please? I will not see it happen.’

‘What is the matter with you? Why can you not understand? Orkney is under Viking rule. This is our way. It has been this way for hundreds of years,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘You make me say it over and over again. I am exhausted with repeating myself.’

‘You are exhausted? You! Do you think it pleases me to see women sold like this?’ I yelled. ‘To be given as gifts to men like a piece of jewellery?’

‘I cannot change ways we’ve had for hundreds of years because my wife suddenly decrees that she will not have female thralls!’ He gripped me by the arms.

My face flushed with fury. All of the anger that I had been holding inside tumbled out.

‘You look down on us for the way we treat our women and yet you are happy to sell women as thralls without a second thought! Go on! Tell the Gothi I no longer want to be married to a fleshmonger and a coward!’

‘If it pleases my lovely wife!’ He let go of my arm, bowed and turned to walk back towards the farmstead.

‘Go then! I’ve managed months without you!’

‘I will!’

‘Sigurd!’ I screamed as the pain gripped my stomach, searing me from the inside. It was too soon much too soon. It bent me doubled. Dropping to the floor I pressed my hands into the dirt. ‘Sigurd!’

At my fearful cry, he ran to me, falling to his knees. ‘What is it?’ He took my hand in his. ‘Where does it hurt?’

I shut my eyes tight as the pain washed over me again. ‘It’s the baby,’ I said, tears streaking my face. ‘Something is not right.’

Without another word, he scooped me up, cradling me. I wrapped my arms around his neck as another sharpness rippled across my belly.

‘Help!’ he shouted as we drew nearer to the farmstead. ‘Help!’

Brigid appeared at the noise, colour draining from her face. ‘Fergus! Fetch more blankets, Lady Olith has taken ill.’

Inside, I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the low light. The room was lit only by the dying embers of the fire and small candles dotted about like stars. Through the small hole in the thatched roof, I could see a small flash of starlight.

‘This way,’ said Brigid. ‘Put her on the pallets by the fire.’

Sigurd hesitated, then strode across the room. I moaned again as he placed me down on a rushed pallet, cradling the pear shape of my stomach. I felt a dreadful pain spread across my back.

‘There’s something wrong,’ I moaned.

‘It may just be pains,’ said Brigid with an air of uncertainty, hands slipping and pressing around the hardness of my belly. ‘The babby is far from comin’ and mebbe telling you to ready yourself.’

‘How can you be sure?’ Sigurd asked nervously.

I gritted my teeth as another pain washed over me, reaching out for his hand. He held it tightly.

‘She knows what she is doing,’ I snapped.

‘I have birthed seven strong laddies and girls besides.’ She rubbed my leg. ‘She must rest. All we can do now is pray.’

Pray. At that point, I did not know to whom. A God that had forsaken me or gods that I did not know. Now, I know my gods and I make sacrifices to them often, but then I was weak and unsure.

I vaguely heard Brigid leave quietly through the door. Sigurd sat on the floor next to me, back pressed against the wall. I will never forget the look on his face until my dying day.

‘I did not mean any of what I said.’ All the rage had gone from his voice. ‘It was my pride that was hurt and nothing more.’

A nod was all I could manage. Keeping my concentration on the pulse of pain.

‘We have traded in thralls from Constantinople to Iceland and made a good living from it. It is like the roots of the trees. You have seen, even our people serve as thralls if the punishment is fitting. Help me understand why it upsets you. These are our laws, laws that cannot be changed.’

‘It is not…’ I closed my eyes as the pain gripped me again. ‘I cannot see another woman beaten, mocked and sold as cattle to be raped whenever someone chooses.’ The words came through gritted teeth. ‘My father did it to me. It is not a life I would force on anyone.’

‘When you are well.’ He stroked my hair. ‘We can talk about it, maybe there is more that can be done? I do not know, yet, but I will speak at The Thing. Can you forgive me?’

He had done nothing wrong. They were not laws that Sigurd could pick and choose. I was playing at being the wife of a Jarl, medalling in customs I did not understand and were not mine to change. I had been nothing more than an unreasonable, foolish child.

I let out a small noise like a whimpering dog.

‘You will be all right.’ He kissed the back of my hand. ‘The Volva spoke of our son. It has been written that he will be a great warrior, and his mother will be by his side, always.’

I kissed him on the cheek. ‘There is nothing to forgive,’ I whispered the pain easing. ‘I have been reckless and my decisions ill-considered. I am sorry for any disrespect I may have caused you.’

He laughed, an odd sound in such a still moment. ‘You are rebellious and spirited and for that, I am truly grateful.’ He kissed my forehead. ‘We will talk no more of it now, but I promise when we arrive home safely.’ He touched his other hand to my stomach. ‘All of us. I will be open to your suggestions for our trading ports. I cannot be certain how much we can change but perhaps we can make it better.’

‘I would like that.’

I had never wanted a child, but then, in that moment with one growing in my belly, I would have given my last breath for his. I whispered my own prayers that night, to which God, I do not know. I just wanted someone to save us.

‘May great Thor protect you, with his strong arm and mighty hammer. May the mother Holle hold and comfort you and may all blessings be upon you,’ he whispered.

I lay on my back, propped against a mound of blankets, just as Sigurd had placed me. Too afraid to move. Too afraid to breathe too deeply for fear it might cause him to rush into the world too early.

Exhaustion swept over me. I closed my eyes, willing the goddess Freyja to watch over us and keep us safe.

‘I will be with you,’ Sigurd soothed. ‘I will not leave you.’

Things were not yet healed between us. Words that had been forgiven but not forgotten.

I listened closely to the crackle of the fire and the shuffling of Brigid too-ing and fro-ing to check that I was still comfortable.

Finally, somewhere in the darkness, I succumbed to sleep.

?

I started myself awake, beneath a mound of blankets. Shafts of dawn crept through in through small cracks in the shutters, catching dust motes dancing in mid-flight. I sat up slowly, the pallet rustling beneath me.

Remembering, I placed a hand instinctively to my belly and could feel the familiar swell and the soft movement beneath. He was still with me. Freyja had not failed me. I cannot explain that feeling, even now.

As I turned my head, I caught sight of Sigurd lying on the hard floor next to me, curled like a farm cat. He looked ashen. Face as pale as the stone he lay on.

‘Sigurd,’ I said. placing a hand on his cheek.

He sat bolt upright. ‘Are you alright?’ he said hoarsely. ‘Are you both all right?’

I took his hand with its long cool fingers and placed them flat against my stomach. The fluttering was inconsistent, rolling, fading, but as I placed his hand to it, our child answered by kicking wildly.

I could not take my eyes off Sigurd’s face. First startled and then the colour rushed back as it flooded with excitement. I had never seen him so happy.

‘The gods have blessed us,’ he said to my navel. ‘You are still with us, little one.’ He kissed it. ‘I love you.’

‘And I you,’ I said quietly before I had time to think about it.

I did not get to say those words nearly enough. I can count on one hand the times that I said them, and I can see each moment so clearly in my mind’s eye. In this one, his blue eyes met mine, he smiled, and he took my face in his hands, and he kissed me.

Hearing us awake, Brigid breezed in casting open the shutters and putting more wood on the fire. The flames were soon guttering and flickering. The heat in the room was soon unbearable. I could not tell if it was from the fire or my cheeks.

‘Are you feeling better?’ She smiled, handing me a cup of warmed milk.

‘Yes. Much.’ I took the cup gratefully. ‘Is it possible that we rest here a wee while before we leave for Byrgisey?’

‘Aye, on one condition,’ she said. ‘Ye must break-fast with us. I have some salted gannet and a wee bannock and some freshly churned butter.’

She truly was a wonder. ‘We would be blessed that you would allow us to eat at your table.’

‘Yes,’ Sigurd said. He always was a man of few words.

She placed the food down on the table. ‘Now help yourselves.’

Sigurd helped me to my feet. I felt like I had not eaten in days. I was famished. Soon, my nostrils were filled with the smell of warm bannock, salted gannet and for the first time, it did not make my stomach roll. I ate greedily and my belly was happy.

‘I will prepare the horses,’ Sigurd said getting up from the table. ‘Are you sure you are well enough to travel?’

‘I am.’ I smiled. ‘I look forward to returning home.’

Home. The word felt strange. I had felt heartsick for the home I had known as a child, but then I was only heartsick for the fire pit in the Mead Hall and my warm, fur-covered bedchamber. I longed for the company of Ligach and Halldora and Estrid. I longed for my sister, but that would have to wait.

After Sigurd left, I pressed Brigid further.

‘I must ask you, where are the women that were with us?’ I supped some milk to clear my mouth of the bannock.

‘I saw to it that they had warm clothes and food in their bellies.’ She placed more salted gannet before me. ‘Jarl Sigurd spoke with them through the night, gave them coins and bid them farewell. They left just before dawn.’

‘How do you find my husband’s rule?’ I asked, listening to the deep growl of Sigurd and Fergus outside preparing for our departure.

‘He is a fair man. We have had worse. Much worse,’ she said between mouthfuls of bread and cheese. ‘I’d sooner they owed us a kindness.’

As my gaze drifted around the room, I caught sight of the small cross beside the fire. So insignificant I almost missed it.

‘I dinna know how that-.’

I placed a finger to my lips. ‘Your secret is safe with me, but I would cover it before the Jarl sees it.’

She nodded and slipped it beneath a mound of cloth waiting by the pots to be boiled.