Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

The tenth day of the men's sojourn on the island

Having arranged some fragrant fronds upon the longhouse fire-pit, Hedda took her place in the circle of women gathered in the main chamber.

She glanced over at the curtain that separated them from her sleeping quarters. She'd fetched warm bread and the best of their cheeses, alongside a pitcher of milk fresh from the goat, promising to return as soon as she was able.

In return, Eldberg had agreed to remain quiet and behave himself, but he was surely listening out for every word. If he heard something not to his liking, she wouldn't put it past him to burst through and interrupt. Like all men, he was a law unto himself.

Eldberg was the most irritating cur she'd ever crossed paths with, but he also had a habit of making her laugh as well as pleasing her in other ways. When she wasn't thinking of how she wanted to kill him, he was actually rather amenable.

And surprising…

His love for the wife he'd lost appeared genuine. As for his childhood, she could barely imagine how it had shaped him.

Most intriguing of all, when she spoke, he seemed to really listen, as if wanting to understand her better. Of course, that was likely because he wanted to find out as much as he could about H?y. Still, it was pleasing to have a man hang on her words.

Bothild was calling the meeting to begin, offering up a prayer to Freyja to guide them to speak honestly and decide wisely. There were seven others beside her grandmother and herself, though meetings of their council usually comprised only they two, accompanied by Elin, Ulva and Agneta.

This morning, they were joined by those who'd taken a stranger into their home—her sister Frida, alongside Astrid, Grethe, and Signy.

Hedda tried to discern the mood of the other women. Frida seemed pre-occupied and slightly anxious, off in some dream world, as was usual with her.

Young Signy had a quiet glow, though she kept her eyes downcast. The girl always had been shy, which was hardly surprising. Her father might be gone, but she still had her mother to reckon with, and Ulva was almost as domineering as Knud had been—though at least she didn't raise a hand to the girl.

Hedda had long made peace with the knowledge that Einar had wanted to remove her as his wife and take Signy instead. The girl had seen barely sixteen winters at the time. Understandably, she'd been dismayed at being offered up to such an older man. It was no secret that Knud had given her a sore beating for thwarting his ambitions. No doubt, the plan would have come to fruition if other events on the island had not interrupted.

Hedda caught Astrid's eye, and the girl glanced hastily away. She gave the appearance of being scared of her own shadow, much like Signy, although Hedda had a sense there was more to her than was first obvious. She had a quiet respect for the way in which Astrid had taken over her father's nearshore boat. Thanks to her efforts, there was a plentiful supply of crab and other shellfish, not to mention herring and such. Astrid was tireless in laying creels on the shallow banks surrounding the island.

From Grethe's self-satisfied air, Hedda guessed the girl had wasted no time in swiving whoever she had in her hut. There was something about her that Hedda had always disliked, though, in temperament, she was probably most like herself.

"You'll begin, Elin?" Bothild was addressing her. "A report on these men, if you would. They're recovering from their injuries?"

Elin looked flustered but quickly composed herself. "With proper rest and care, my hope is that they'll heal. Frida has done well in tending to the wound upon her man's ankle, but he must wait for the injury to close before attempting to stand, then use a crutch."

Bothild beamed at Frida. "And all is well, my child? You're making your guest welcome?"

"‘Tis strange having him beneath my roof, but he's pleasant enough. We've been… getting to know one another," Frida answered demurely.

Hedda inwardly rolled her eyes. For all her virginal coyness, it sounded as though her sister had worked out what a man's staff was for—and not before time.

"The man who resides with Grethe has three fingers broken on his left hand," Elin spoke again. "He should avoid using it for at least one cycle of the moon—probably longer. However, he has no other injury of note and remains adept with his right."

"One working cock is all he needs," Agneta gave a hearty cackle.

Grethe turned quite red, glaring in response.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of." Ulva patted her niece's hand. "We're all grown women here. Crude words or no, the outcome is the same. You've a duty to us all in ripening with child. ‘Tis a blessing from Freyja that these men are partly incapacitated for it shall make your coupling go easier if they're a little weak."

Hedda was sure she heard a guffaw from beyond the curtain.

A pox on him! It would be like that over-sexed oaf to find Ulva's comment humorous. There was certainly nothing weak about him. Hedda supposed she ought to be grateful he was finding this copulation business amusing. His first reaction to discovering the women intended to milk the men's seed had been far less mirthful.

"The man named J?rgen has no injury besides light bruising, so there should be no difficulty in him performing… whatever is asked." Elin cleared her throat in an embarrassed fashion.

Astrid jumped in. "I'm going to take him out in the boat with me tomorrow." She bit at her lip. "That is, I should like to if it's permitted. He's been very helpful about the house, but he'll be more use to me with the fish."

"The season will have turned before she works out what she's supposed to do with him!" Agneta, who sat beside Hedda, muttered under her breath. "Still, so much the better if they both smell of mackerel, I suppose."

Frida cast a disapproving glare Agneta's way, before touching Astrid's arm. "‘Tis good to share labors. ‘Twill bring you closer."

"What of your own man, Elin?" Bothild enquired.

"He's still in some pain. By the bruising to his torso, I think some ribs may be broken. Certainly, his right arm is injured—a fracture, perhaps. He's taking it hard. I'd hoped we'd find a way to be friendly but…"

Hedda mused upon Elin's troubled expression. Of all the women, she'd expected her to deal with her situation most effortlessly. After all, she'd been married before—quite contentedly from what Hedda knew—and had born a child who'd thrived.

"His mood may improve if he's permitted to see his companions or his jarl at least." Elin paused. "I've promised that I'll try to arrange this for him. ‘Tis the man in Hedda's care, I believe."

Bothild looked thoughtful. "A reasonable request."

Elin went on. "I've approached Hedda repeatedly, but she's been refusing my entry to her chamber."

The last thing Hedda wanted was Elin sticking her nose in, though it would no doubt please Eldberg.

"You may see him this day if it prays upon your mind. I've nothing to hide."

"That isn't how you've been behaving," Elin snapped.

"We're all dealing with a difficult situation. Better to help one another." Bothild attempted to intercede.

"After our meeting, then…" Continuing to glower, Elin went on in her summary. "The man Viggo is the biggest mystery to me. He hasno signs of injury above bruising yet has lost his sight. I admit I'm at a loss. It may be the blindness is from banging his head, but ‘tis impossible to say."

Hedda wondered how much longer this would take. She had better things to do with her time than listen to such a catalogue.

Signy sniffled but her mother made no move to comfort her, rather uttering a huffing sound. "He ought to be put out of his misery. What use is he, being blind!"

Signy wiped at her cheek. "It's not his fault. He does want to get better."

"That hardly changes anything! Everyone knows that a certain person among us never wanted any part in this, which is a wasted opportunity." Ulva turned to Bothild. "My daughter ought to be given the man allocated to Hedda."

Hedda's attention darted back. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep out of my affairs!"

"There's nothing to argue over." Bothild made calming motions. "As for this Viggo, he's a man, not a beast. He should be given a chance to recover. Injuries of this nature are sometimes merely of the mind. Give him time, and he may respond to Signy's kind treatment."

Ulva looked far from satisfied.

"However, this reminds me that I wish to apologize to you, Hedda, for placing you in an uncomfortable position," Bothild went on. "I was wrong to insist on the coupling. In light of this, you should no longer feel obliged. The guest in your care can be passed to Signy, if she so wishes it, or to another of our women."

Rushing heat entered Hedda's temples. ‘Twas a feeling she recognized for her temper oft brought on the red mist.

Be calm. None may take him until you wish it. Not that I care. He's nothing but trouble! ‘Tis only that it should be my decision!

Hedda steadied her breaths. Nevertheless, for a moment, she was thrown. She was aware of the others looking at her, waiting for her to speak. Hedda glanced again toward her sleeping chamber.

Curse the oaf! The last thing she wanted was for him to overhear her making an appeal to keep him. His head was full to bursting with arrogance as it was.

"I've no wish to shirk my duty. I can endure him a while longer."

Grethe, who was sitting to Hedda's left, leaned in, fingering the kerchief Hedda had tied about her neck prior to joining the gathering.

"‘Tis warm today for such covering. I hope you aren't sickening." Grethe's eyes were bright with mischief.

"What? No, of course not!" Hedda drew back, pulling the covering closer. Grethe, however, was not so easily put off. With a tug, she yanked it down, to reveal the telltale marks Hedda had been attempting to cover.

"Lovers' kisses!" Grethe cried gleefully. "Our Hedda has been more than enduring… she's been enjoying!"

There were a few gasps from about the circle, followed by giggles.

"This jarl she's bedding must be doing something right!" Agneta crowed.

Mortified, Hedda tied the neckerchief again. "‘Twas all him. The cur has been incapable of restraining his lust."

More snickers ensued.

"‘Twould not be the worst thing to enjoy a man's company, granddaughter." Bothild's smile was benevolent.

"‘Tis nothing of that sort," Hedda replied hastily. "But I may have been wrong in my first desire to simply kill these men. There is work to be done, and some are capable."

"I think it's cruel not to let them speak to one another." The voice was Signy's. "They must be lonely. They should be allowed a meeting. And I agree, giving them something useful to do is a good idea. Even my Viggo can help. It will be good for him."

A murmur of assent arose from Frida, Elin, Grethe, and Astrid, followed by their own assertions.

"Mine has been asking the same."

"We can't keep them apart forever!"

Bothild raised her hand for quiet. "This can be arranged. Moreover, it sounds as if some men are fit to be assigned tasks. The rest need more time to recover. As long as they show themselves pliant and no danger to our women, all will be well."

"Aye!" Ulva nodded. "Let them work, but if they step out of line, I'll stand with Hedda in wielding the knife!"

Several of the women looked at one another worriedly.

Freyja, help me! Hedda could only hope Eldberg didn't take it into his head to do anything foolish, or the matter would be out of her hands.