Chapter 28

A Rotten Branch will be Found in Every Tree

A s we approached the fortress, I took a deep breath of the crisp air to calm my nerves. It smelled like the moss and decay of my childhood. My eyes traced the walkways filled with people, women carried baskets on shoulders, filled with fish. Men littered their paths talking business and propping up railings.

‘There are so many people,’ said Ligach. ‘It’s no like my village.’

‘Have you never been to Atholl?’

Before she could answer, Sigurd turned the ships, guiding them into the dock until they bumped the weathered pier. My eyes followed our line back downstream. No noise. No spiralling smoke. No outward sign of our camp. We would go unnoticed.

Our men spilled out onto the wooden jetty to tie the ships. I clambered out, slowed by my awkward shape.

‘We will leave the ships here,’ said Sigurd.

‘Aye, no doubt my father will send an envoy to greet us.’ I glanced up towards the fortress.

At the end of the dock, everyone stood still as statues, mouths like gasping trout. One of my father’s men, Blaine, with yellow hair flapping like a haystack came jogging towards us.

‘Do you have business here?’ Blaine demanded.

‘I am here to speak with your Laird King Malcolm,’ said Sigurd.

The rest of his chieftains guarded me like wolves, circling me and eying up their prey through coal-dark eyes. They kept Ligach and I hidden and safe. A formidable sight if you had not seen them drunk or playing with their young children or being scolded by their wives.

‘The Laird King is not accepting visitors. If you have no trade here, then I must ask you to leave.’ Blaine found himself toe to toe with my husband, his hand twitching on the hilt of his sword. Sigurd’s men erupted, in one swift move their weapons were drawn.

‘Blaine,’ I said, touching a hand to my husband whose muscles were stiff with fury. The sea of Danes parted. ‘We are here to see my father.’

At the sight of me, his face split into a smile. ‘Princess Olith. Your father will be pleased.’ His eyes grew large as he glanced up and down my attire and caught sight of my belly and gave Sigurd a suspicious squint. ‘Is this your husband?’

‘Aye.’ I turned to Sigurd. ‘This is my husband, Jarl Sigurd II of Orkney and his chieftains, at my father’s behest.’

‘We had better go and find the Laird King.’ He gave one last look and then waved a hand back towards the direction of the fortress. ‘Ye’d better follow me.’

Blaine turned and weaved his way back through the crowd, their fear palpable. If Blaine was fearful, he did not show it. My father had no doubt schooled him to expect us before winter. My father schooled his men in a lot of things, treachery being highest on his list. I followed with Sigurd and his chieftains as my guard, stalking behind me like a pack of wolves.

‘How are my sisters?’

‘Donada will be here this evening, she is to meet the Earl of Moray. She will look forward to seeing you.’

That was a lie. My father had no intention of marrying her to the Earl of Moray. It was like a game of Tafl, Donada my ivory king, and my father, a very worthy opponent. Now I just needed to keep her surrounded by my men.

‘I shall look forward to it,’ I said, clasping my hands over the swell of my belly.

The centre of the walkway split into three. The first moved down to the left, opening up into a large timber building, woven with hazel stems and thatch made from reeds from the firth. I knew where the arched doorway would lead. An archway that all my father’s men had known only too well. We turned right.

‘That is the main hall, there,’ I said, pointing to the archway in front of us. ‘It is Alba’s biggest stronghold.’

‘And where we first met,’ said Sigurd.

Blaine stopped. ‘I must ask that ye wait here.’ He bobbed his head and disappeared, pushing open the door in a rush of peat fire and roasted meats. They would be feasting again. Feasting and rutting, that was all they were capable of.

While we waited, Sigurd’s chieftains slithered around the entrance, touching handrails, peering into water, lifting baskets. They were like unattended children.

‘Put it down,’ I barked in Norse.

The door groaned open.

‘Please,’ said Blaine, stepping back for us to enter.

I remember taking a deep breath. I felt no fear going before my father, not then, not even if his greasy priest wanted to baptise me again for the sake of my sinning. I had no plan of action, but I was not afraid.

‘Jarl Sigurd, so good of you to join us.’ My father’s rat face looked delighted. He truly thought that my husband had given in and he held sway over us. ‘Please be seated. Someone bring them wine.’

Two of the women, dressed delicately in blue silks flitted between the men, pouring wine while my father’s men lounged lazily. Plump and fat as a goose his priest was at his right hand and on his left, the Earl of Moray.

Fire-pits danced and licked, casting shadows of monsters and murderers against the walls. The women tittered amongst themselves. We filtered in, moving between them. Sigurd guided me so that we might sit closest to my father.

‘My daughter.’ He stretched out his arms as though to embrace me, something I did not think a snake could do. He kissed me gently. ‘You look radiant.’

I doubted very much he meant it.

‘Laird King.’ I bowed my head in thanks and took up my seat next to my husband. We danced around each other like two foxes waiting to fight.

‘I trust that the northern isles are keeping you well?’

I nodded. ‘They are, and my husband.’ It was all a pretence. A rouse. It felt like an ambush. ‘We are to visit but a short while, I wish to be home before the winter sets in and the bairn is born.’

His mouth tightened. ‘I will not keep you long, of that I can assure.’ He clapped his hands together and the women dotted about the outskirts of the room excused themselves. All but me.

‘Now, we must turn to the business that brings you here,’ he said solemnly. ‘Danes have been raiding up and down our lands. No doubt my daughter has told you.’

‘My wife has, but I want to hear it from you.’

‘Your sisters would do well to see you.’ He waved a hand to dismiss me. ‘Once your good lady has retired, we have much to discuss.’

I had no intention of getting into a pissing contest with my father. I went to stand but Sigurd gripped my wrist. The room became deathly silent.

‘We are here a while,’ Sigurd spoke. ‘My wife can see her sisters after our meeting.’ He spread his arms. ‘After all my warlords and I know nothing of your customs. We require my wife’s guidance. Anything you wish to say to me, you can say in front of Lady Olith.’

‘As you wish Jarl Sigurd,’ said Laird Malcolm, seething. ‘Where was I? Ah yes, they creep over our borders and into our lands like a poison, devouring everything in their path. What they cannot steal they burn to the ground.’

He always did love to provoke a reaction. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sigurd’s hands ball into fists.

‘Where are they raiding?’ Sigurd said.

He placed a hand on the shoulder of the Earl of Moray. ‘They belong to my soon-to-be son. I will guard them as I do my own.’

The Earl of Moray was a more befitting husband for my sister, but I did not trust him. My stomach tied itself in knots knowing that all it was hearing were lies.

‘Will it be the same for Orkney?’ I said, knowing only too well the true answer.

‘Of course,’ he said, although not gladly. ‘If I had another daughter to marry off to Finnleik, I could have settled this easily but alas… It makes me happy to know that my daughter has a strong husband to protect her.’

It sounded as though he had done Sigurd the favour.

‘I am an ambitious man, Jarl Sigurd, I have great plans. I hope that between us we can work together to make it favourable for all our sakes. Orkney, Moray and Alba.

‘I am not a man of gold, Laird King.’ Sigurd sat back and slipped his fingers through his beard thoughtfully. ‘But I am a man of the land. First and foremost, we are farmers.’

‘We are,’ agreed Agda Redaxe. ‘If there will be land as an offering for our services, you can have my shieldmaidens.’

‘You have not heard who raids his lands yet,’ Sigurd growled.

‘If you help me rid us of the raiders, I will give you the land you wish,’ said my father.

‘For each man that fights?’ said Agda.

‘It is Finnleik he chooses to fight against,’ Sigurd said finally. ‘Do you all want to go against Finnleik?’ I could feel the tension rippling around the room.

‘I will give you land that your men can fallow and seed. It will be coastal land so that you can access it by your seaways. You will have to divide the land amongst the men as you see fit. Do I have your agreement?’

Everyone waited for their chieftains to answer. Agda and Sigurd exchanged glances.

‘Finnleik threatens your borders?’ she asked.

‘The people of your lands should be burying what few possessions they have left and fleeing to safety,’ said Sigurd. ‘Before he sends them all to the corpse-goddess, Hel.’

I had never seen my husband afraid, not even when he lay in my arms dying. He always protected us; it was a privilege that we did not know we had. Without him, I thought we would be no more than outlaws, but here we sit, older and greyer. I made sure that we are still as privileged, we are still protected. As does my son.

‘Unless that land we fallow is filled with buried gold, my warriors will not fight,’ Agda said. ‘And even then, some may not agree.’

I looked around at worried faces. Hands touching Thor’s hammer around their necks. There was not a man nor woman in that room that wanted to go to war with Finnleik. But I have found, with enough gold you can usually, within reason, pay a man enough to do anything you ask of him.

‘What use is land, if all the men we need to farrow it are dead? Then it is just a piece of wasteland,’ said Sigurd.

‘Name your price,’ said Laird Malcolm.

Looking back at that night, I should have noticed the beads of sweat that glistened on the Earl of Moray’s forehead. I should have listened to his hitched breath at my father’s lies. I should have noticed more than I did, but it is easy to see you were a fool when you have had years to look back on what has gone before.

A price was set. Once my father and his priest talked of the treasure they were willing to give for the bodies of Finnleik’s Danes, everyone in the hall was ready to fight under my father’s banner.

‘It is agreed, by the terms which you have set. You have our men and women. We will not go back on our word.’

‘Forgive me, Jarl Sigurd, but I have heard this all before. Once it is done, the price will be paid.’

‘Very well,’ conceded Sigurd. ‘What is it you will have me do.’

My husband was a proud man. He would not be controlled but that night, before my father he was happy to take orders, for a prize that was too good to be true.

‘You men and your chieftains, will they need time to raise their armies because from what has accompanied you here, there are not nearly enough.’

Sigurd was no fool and gave away nothing. ‘We will stay here while we send word north and bring the rest of our warriors.’

‘Then, we will not discuss strategy further today. First, we must feast. Please share my hospitality. Jarl Sigurd and Olith you will find her old chambers to your liking?’

I nodded.

‘The rest of you, I will find room.’ He clapped his hands and more women appeared. ‘Feast. Drink. Stay the evening and in the morrow, we can talk of strategy.’

The uneasiness in my throat crept up like bile. Whatever my father had planned I did not trust it.