Chapter 35

Thorfinn Sigurdsson

L ord help me!’ I cried out as another contraction rippled across my exhausted body. ‘It is too soon! He is no ready!’

Now, I was on all fours at the stern, with my gown bunched up around my waist revealing milk-white thighs; stark against the black blood soaking into the furs beneath me. My hands were smeared in it too, leaving bloodied finger marks. It is not how you want a score of men to remember their Jarl.

The crisp sea air; sharp against the metallic smell of my blood, blew cool against my skin. I wished for Estrid. I even wished for my mother. Hands that had delivered a hundred babies before mine. Not my sister who had had little more experience than helping birth a lamb that had become breached. Ligach’s hands held me firmly, while nimble fingers cradled the tiny skull as it pressed between my legs. ‘Here.’ Ligach thrust a small piece of amber into my hand. ‘Hold this against your stomach.’

‘Come now,’ said Donada. ‘It’s time.’

Groaning and whimpering I rocked on all fours as the force of another contraction came, causing a shuddering that left me glinting with sweat.

‘One more push.’ Ligach’s spade-like hand rubbed against my back.

I strained and bellowed through gritted teeth as each contraction came quicker than the last causing the softness of my stomach to harden. High above I heard a falcon cry. Freyja watching over us.

When I felt like I could push no longer, something inside me gave and with a hot, slippery rush of fluid, the baby came. I collapsed on my side.

‘You’ve a wee boy, Olith.’

A cry erupted from the blood-smeared bundle of tiny arms and legs. Donada wrapped the slippery, warm boy in an old blanket and put him to my chest.

The whole ship was silent. All but my boy.

‘Hush now,’ Ligach said, trying to soothe the wriggling mass. ‘Put him to your breast.’

I swallowed hard and stared, mouth open at my son. Trembling, I pulled at the soft linen that covered my breast and put him to it. Ligach reached for my blood-stained gown and pulled it down over my legs to cover my nakedness.

‘Sigurd,’ I whispered. ‘Sigurd must see his boy.’

Her face was drawn. ‘You must rest.’

‘You will take me to him.’

The god Njord had smiled upon us as the sea was flat as a coin. He needed to see his son. Our bridge between worlds. In my foolishness, I thought it might be enough to drag him back from his sickness and keep him with me.

I pushed an elbow beneath me, with Donada’s help I stumbled to my feet cradling our son. The world swam dizzily. He had to see his son. It did not matter how raw my body felt. I had to get up and move.

‘Help me,’ I managed to whisper again. ‘He has to see…’

‘I’ve got you.’ Ligach found my arm and held me by it, steadying me. ‘It isnae far.’

The rest of the ship stilled, bodies parting all so that we might pass, undisturbed.

Sigurd was where we had placed him, near the stern so that he might be laid flat. He thrashed now, crying out in his own tongue. His face glistened with exertion.

Clumsily, I knelt beside him. ‘Sigurd, my love.’ He did not seem to hear me. ‘Our son has come to meet us, our Thorfinn.’

I touched a hand to his arm. His body burned fiercely. I kissed his forehead, and I placed Thorfinn near his face, so he might see him.

‘Your boy. Our boy.’ My throat tightened.

Black blood seeped beneath his bandages. The sweet, fetid smell from the wound caught at the back of my throat. He did not stir. He did not move. His breathing stuttered. I choked back tears.

Ligach bent close to me. ‘Do you trust the Jarl’s men, Lady Olith?’

‘I do not know what you mean?’

‘He is as good as dead.’

‘Take those words back,’ I hissed.

‘You must listen. When he is gone, they will send men from Iceland-.’

‘They can send their men from Iceland, send them by the thousands. They will not take Orkney.’

‘You will have no choice. They will come at you from all sides.’

‘Let them come,’ I said, feeling the weakness in my legs. Ligach wrapped her hand around my waist to steady me. ‘I am Lady Olith Hlodvesson, these are my men. My father will pay for what he has done.’

Hands guided me to sit, propped against the hull. Exhaustion rippled through me. I could barely keep my eyes from closing. Then I felt it. A movement at my breast. My eyes followed to my tiny son, nestled in the crook of my arm. I had not seen him until that moment. Blue eyes stared back at me. I could not tear my gaze away from his tiny hands and feet. Long-limbed and pale-skinned, like a skinned rabbit.

Thorfinn nuzzled at my breast. I pressed him close to my skin to keep out the chill. That he might warm against me. That our heartbeats might steady each other.

I bent to check Sigurd, he was sleeping still, face turned away from me and breathing ragged. What had been his neat gold braid lay twisted and matted with blood. Whose blood, I could not tell.

Orkney loomed closer with each stroke of the oars. The islands, like sleeping blackfish, resting in the water. Winter twilight always arrived early, littering our coast with fallen stars. On the shore, Estrid and the others would be watching. Waiting patiently to see the serpents on the horizon. The sea would already be in total darkness, they would not see our soapstone lamps until we were nearly upon them.

‘We will have landed before we have time to light them,’ Thorkell shouted over the noise of the men.

To this day I do not know how he still stood. We had not slept in days. It felt like a lifetime ago that we set sail for Atholl. Before my father had massacred our men. Before I gave birth to our son.

‘Sigurd.’ I tried. ‘Sigurd.’ I shook him gently.

The clunk of the boat coming into the harbour jolted me forward. Fires from the greased torches that lined the wooden dock, crackled and spat, sending sparks fluttering into the darkness, illuminating Sigurd’s pallid face. His mouth hung lax, revealing a row of almost white teeth. His glassy eyes reflected the light of the torches. It made him seem as though he might still be alive.

Ligach let out a gasp and touched his cheek.

‘He’s gone,’ she said, lowering her eyes and crossing herself. Still warm, she pulled the furs towards his chest and closed his eyes.

‘Do not say such lies. Bring me the Volva!’ I shouted, trying to pull his head into my lap. ‘Bring her now .