Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

The forty-first day of the men’s sojourn on the island

Approaching Bothild’s door, Signy hesitated in knocking.

What did she plan to say?

And what comfort or advice could Bothild give?

Signy had no notion… only that she knew she must speak with someone who’d offer a patient ear. The alternative was to run mad.

She’d need to speak with her mother later, for there was still the matter of the bees to mull over. As to talking about Viggo, she doubted she’d receive much sympathy on that subject. Certainly, Ulva was the last person with whom Signy wanted to discuss her feelings.

She’d never felt more desolate.

With no choice but to go along with Viggo’s plan, she clung to the hope he’d relent at last. However, he’d slept upon the floor last night and had barely uttered a word that day. Who knew what was going through his mind? Her thoughts were so scattered, she hardly knew her own.

Finally, Signy rapped upon the door, but there was no reply from inside. Shifting the honey she carried to her other side, she pressed her good ear to the wood.

Could Bothild be sleeping? ‘Twas too early in the day for her to have entirely retired, but Signy knew how it was with the older women. Her mother oft napped at this time.

There was no sound from within, and Signy wondered if Bothild might be unwell. Signy considered simply pushing open the door, but courtesy forbade her.

Bothild was generous with her time, but she also valued her privacy.

With a sigh, Signy bent to leave the pot of honey at the threshold, and as she straightened again, she gave a start of surprise. Bothild was right behind her, pink in the cheeks and out of breath, as if she’d hurried back from somewhere.

“Goodness, Bothild! Are you alright?” Signy couldn’t help feeling alarmed.

“Me? Of course.” Bothild looked flustered, nonetheless. “I was with Elin and walked back a bit quicker than usual, that’s all. Spying you waiting here, I didn’t want you to leave.” Bothild was already entering her hut. “‘Tis a while since I’ve seen you.”

Signy felt her cheeks redden. ‘Twas true she’d neglected calling upon her of late.

“And you’re sure you’re not unwell?” Signy asked again.

“I’m as fit as one of Grethe’s goats, though less sprightly in the leg. It’s rather… Elin who’s a little poorly. I’ve left her tucked in bed.”

“Really?” Signy was taken aback. “When I saw her yesterday, she seemed in good health.”

“A slight head cold.” Bothild waved a hand dismissively. “Best to leave her be. I never catch these things, so I might attend her without worry. Tell the others, if you see them, to give her some peace. Elin has been working too hard with all these men to keep an eye on.”

She directed Signy to sit, and took the honey from her with a wink, then bustled between the table and cauldron.

“We’ll have a spoonful of this with my special brew and a glug of mead, and you can tell me how you’ve been getting along with that man of yours.” Bothild looked astutely over the jug, whose contents she was swirling.

It was tempting to assert that all was well, but Signy knew that would be senseless. Bothild had an uncanny way of reading a person, as Frida did. In any case, it would hardly serve her to continue in the pretense, and Bothild needed to know all Signy had learnt.

“In truth, I’ve lost hope with Viggo.” She stared into her lap. “I wanted so much more. I wanted everything! But...”

“You love him?” Bothild asked.

Signy nodded.

“And he feels the same?” Bothild added.

“He does!” Signy spoke vehemently. “Yet, he insists he’s not good enough, that I’m better off without him!”

“Men have strange notions.” Bothild shook her head sadly. “His melancholy shan’t last. There’s no telling him that, though, is there? He’ll believe what he’s convinced of.”

Signy’s pulse raced. “What are you saying, Bothild? Have you… glimpsed something? In a dream? You’ve seen Viggo with his sight restored?”

Bothild seldom spoke of her gifts, but Signy knew of them. She’d pulled her aside, some days before the terrible beating her father had given, and tried to warn her, saying she was in danger. She’d tried, even, to persuade her mother to let Signy come and stay with her. Ulva had paid no mind, naturally.

“Nothing so clear.” Bothild cocked her head to one side. “But I see other things. Him with a child, laughing, tossing the babe into the air. A fanciful notion or a glimpse of what may be…”

Signy’s heart leapt.

Would that it comes to pass!

“You’re carrying already?” Bothild fixed her eyes upon Signy.

“I may be…” A flush of happiness rose in her. Frida had seen it, and now Bothild.

“And what do you wish, Signy? To make this man a true husband… a father to your child?”

“More than anything!” Signy clasped her hands tightly. “But he’s full of worries and woe. He doesn’t see a future for us.”

Bothild looked thoughtful. “Give it time. The prospect of fatherhood may gentle his mind. What else has he told you?” Bothild was suddenly serious. “Of the men who are with him? Of their intentions?”

“They know we’re alone here, that something befell our menfolk, that those who left aren’t coming back.” Signy bit her lip. There had been a tacit agreement between the women that naught was to be said of the island’s history. It was evident she wasn’t the only one who’d broken that unspoken vow, though it was likely those men who had more freedom to move among them would have drawn their own conclusions.

“They’ve been making repairs to their ship,” Signy went on. “They’re planning to leave. Soon, Viggo thinks.”

“I guessed as much. ‘Tis for the best. Letting them stay has been… unwise. They’re unpredictable.” Bothild seemed to be about to say more but merely pursed her lips.

Signy had the distinct feeling the older woman was holding something back, but she didn’t feel brave enough to pry.

When Bothild spoke again, it was with a practical air.

“I must speak with their jarl and agree a plan of action for their departure. ‘Tis ridiculous for them to skulk about. Better to be open and honest. ‘Twas foolish of me to think they could be controlled or that the loyalty of the women who took them in would remain undivided. No doubt, some will want to leave with them. That I can’t prevent. Their destiny is their own.”

“But how will we manage? If a great number of our women take this opportunity?” Signy had inspected the damaged boat. It was fitted for sixteen oars, but the hull was wide—capable of carrying a large quantity of goods. Room enough to take at least half the women on the island, along with their possessions. More perhaps. Of course, some women would never leave. H?y was their home, and they were too old in years to imagine another.

“We’ll do what we must.” Bothild gave a sigh of resignation. “All things have their end. If this is H?y’s destiny, it shall be as it was before anyone settled here.”

And if those with children leave, that time will come sooner than any of us have foreseen. Does the island already sense what lies ahead and mourns for us?

Signy shook that thought away. ‘Twas idle to contemplate such things. Nevertheless, a deep sadness settled upon her, thinking of her child playing alone on the sands.

‘Twas late in the afternoon when Signy departed Bothild’s hut. They’d spoken much of Viggo, with Bothild suggesting that a true ceremony be conducted to join them as husband and wife.

Signy had gone to Bothild believing all was lost, but the older woman’s encouragement had heartened her.

Viggo had professed love and intent to protect her. ‘Twas only his feelings of inadequacy that held him back. His belief that he might hurt her was misplaced, she was certain.

If she might cajole him into undertaking the ritual of wedlock—persuading him that it was for her sake alone and that of the unborn babe—mightn’t the solemnity of it work some transformation?

She would be promising to love him, always, and to stand at his side—for however long they had together.

Several times, she’d been tempted to ask if Bothild foresaw anything else relating to Viggo—or to the hives or the island itself—but she’d held her tongue. If Bothild wanted to impart such things to Signy, she’d do so without prompting.

Besides which, no matter how her mother frustrated her, Signy owed first duty there, to speak to her of the bees before telling anyone else—even Bothild. With that in mind, she turned her feet toward Agneta’s hut.

Her mother was sitting outside upon a stool and jumped up at seeing her approach.

“Ah, there you are!” Ulva bore a more than usual expression of disgruntlement. “I saw you go into Bothild’s hut an age past and have been waiting on you. What you can think of to speak to her about for such a time, I can’t imagine! Meanwhile, here I am, without any such courtesy from my only daughter.”

“The fault is mine . I should have called upon you first.” Signy knew better than to counter her mother.

“Now you’re here, you can make yourself useful. I saw you taking honey to Bothild, as if we have endless pots to share.” Ulva gave a disapproving sniff. “I want some for myself and Agneta. It comes to something when I don’t feel comfortable entering my own home to fetch some, but so be it while that hulking brute sprawls within. Not that you ever?—”

“That reminds me…” Signy was forced to interrupt. “I was coming to see you, Móeir, to seek your advice… on the bees. I was up by the hives, and they’re behaving so strangely. Some are sickly. I’ve not seen anything like it before.”

“Is that your way of telling me I shouldn’t be giving Agneta the honey?” Ulva made a scoffing sound. “No doubt you’ve been using it in abundance, left to your own devices… spooning it down the neck of that good-for-nothing man, without a care for our supplies. Really, Signy, you’ll say anything to turn things to your own advantage. Selfish! You always were! ‘Tis little wonder your father lost his temper with you so often. A clip about the head would do you no harm to remind you of your place!”

The words stung as if her mother had struck her.

Selfish? And deserving to be punished?

It hurt that her mother perceived things that way. Nevertheless, Signy maintained her calm.

“Of course, you should have the honey. ‘Tis simply that I’m worried. Will you come with me to the hives, tomorrow?”

“You mean to drag me up there?” Ulva folded her arms. “You know how my knees are.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it important,” Signy persisted.

Ulva grimaced. “Tomorrow or the day after. Whatever it is, I doubt it’s as significant as you think. Likely, you’re making a ruckus over nothing.”

Signy held back a reply.

“Look at the fuss you made over your father’s plans for you. If events had turned out differently, you could have been married to Einar. Then, we wouldn’t have had to put up with Hedda strutting about, acting as if she’s queen of us all.”

“He was Hedda’s husband!” ‘Twas not often Signy raised her voice, but she couldn’t help herself. “You think I would take him from her? Besides which, you know I’d no desire for such a thing. I would have hated it.”

“Stupid girl. You didn’t know what was good for you. Now look… born with all this beauty, and for what? Wasted on a man who can’t even see you! I’ve a mind to ask Bothild to rethink the arrangements. That jarl of theirs, this Eldberg, is the sort of man you should be with. He’s strong. And see the work he’s been doing, making things better for us!”

Signy stood in silence while her mother ranted.

“It won’t be long before he tires of Hedda’s sharp tongue. We should be ready for that time to show him you’re amenable. Secure him as your husband, and you’ll want for nothing.”

“Nay! I… I could never be with him!” Signy snapped. “Not since…”

Ulva gave a loud tut. “Since what? Since being with that lout Viggo?”

She rolled her eyes. “The sooner you forget him, the better. I only hope his seed is as weak as his eyes. Better to wait for Eldberg and bear his children. Fine and strong, they’ll be. A brood of six in no time.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. This is all nonsense.” Signy pressed her fingers to her temples. She might have known her mother would react this way, for all that she’d urged her on in the beginning to get herself with child. “Viggo is the man I love. I’ve spoken with Bothild, and she’s agreed we should marry if he’s amenable.”

“Ungrateful girl! You think I’ll let that happen?” Ulva sneered.

“‘Tis not your decision.” Signy stood firm, awaiting another barrage of insults.

Ulva was strangely quiet, though her eyes glittered darkly, filled with inner seething.

“We’ll say no more, for the moment.” Ulva pressed her lips tight. “Just fetch me the honey and my larger shawl from the trunk. I don’t suppose you’ve considered that your mother might need more of her things. Your mind is purely upon your own wants.”

“Collect them yourself.” Signy would hardly have dared refuse her mother before, but she’d had enough of being so spoken to. “Viggo shan’t obstruct you. I’m going to take a walk up the hillside. Tell him for me, if you please. I don’t want him to worry.”

Her mother’s eyes blazed as Signy turned from her, but she said nothing more.

A small sense of victory swelled in Signy, albeit a hollow one. Ulva would never change, always viewing her daughter with disappointment, but Signy could choose to set herself apart. She had others who valued her, others who would support her. Moreover, soon, there would be the child.

And Viggo?

Will he be part of my future?

She would go to the highest point on the clifftops and offer prayers to Freyja, asking for the goddess’ wisdom and patience to face what lay ahead.