Daughter of Fire and Ice (14 page)

‘Thora!’ Ragna called. ‘You’ve forgotten to empty my slop bucket.’ She loved ordering me to empty her bucket.

After that, I tried to stay away from Bjorn. I stood in the prow for hours on end, watching the coast slip past us. We rounded the north-eastern end of the island and started to sail west. The winds were good to us and veered around and blew from the east, helping us on our way. I was sure Thor was watching over us.

The coast changed. The fjords gave way to wide bays. Sometimes there were mountains and high cliffs, and sometimes wide areas of beach, littered with driftwood. I wondered where the huge trees came from, for I had seen nothing higher than my shoulder in Iceland so far. The trees here were small, twisted bushes, clinging desperately to the ground, sculpted by the winds. The sky was iron grey, leaching the colour from the sea and landscape. The wind blew bitterly cold.

‘You must speak to Bjorn,’ said Thrang in my ear the next day. ‘Get him to stop before it’s too late.’

I shook my head without looking at him.

‘He would listen to you,’ urged Thrang.

‘We haven’t yet reached the place,’ I said. I reached out, in my mind, to the bay we were looking for. It shimmered there, almost too beautiful to be true. ‘We won’t find it today,’ I told him. ‘But soon. It is not far away.’

Thrang shook his head. ‘You’ve great trust in yourself. I wish I could be as sure.’

‘I have faith in what the goddess shows me,’ I told him. ‘She’s never let me down.’

That was no longer quite true. I’d been shown a vision of a life with Bjorn and it had been a mockery. Nothing had come about as I had expected. Perhaps this would be the same, but I kept my doubts to myself.

That night a thick, chill mist rolled over us, and the wind died away to a whisper. When morning came, we were trapped in a bay, unable to see enough to move on. As the long, cold day wore on, tempers frayed. First Ragna spoke angrily to Bjorn and then Thrang did.

‘Will you listen to me now, when I tell you to stop?’ Thrang was saying. ‘Or do you want to see everyone dead first? This isn’t the travelling season!’

I intervened, stepping between them. ‘Please,’ I said. ‘Resolve your differences.’

Thrang looked down at me. ‘What should we do, Thora?’ he asked.

I saw that he expected me to offer some guidance. Everyone was looking on, expecting me to say something that would offer some certainty. Ragna had been drawn from her cabin by the commotion and was looking resentfully at me. Every person on board the ship wanted to find a place to settle now, and be safely on land again. I took a deep breath.

‘We could ask the runes for advice,’ I said. I could sense the relief all around me. Here was something everyone understood.

I fetched my pouch of runes from my bag and dipped my hand into them, feeling them glide smoothly between my fingers. It was familiar and comforting. I sat down on the deck cross-legged, placed a sheep skin before me, skin side up. Then I closed my eyes and tried to still my mind. There was a press of people around me and it hindered me, but I knew this must be a public and not a private undertaking if I wanted their support.

My hands moved among the runes, selecting and then dropping each smooth pebble. One tingled in my fingers. I held on to it, searching for another in my bag. Three stones I selected. Then I drew them out and cast them onto the sheepskin. There was an intake of breath around me. The excitement of anticipation.

I opened my eyes. The runes looked up at me and soon my mind was busy looking for their meaning.

‘The sun,’ I said aloud. ‘The sun will come again. It will bring new beginnings.’ In my mind, I could see the tantalizing image of the sun-drenched bay. We would find it in good weather, I was sure. The rune had fallen closest to me, it would not be long coming.

The other two runes were less reassuring, but I spoke them aloud anyway. ‘There will be strife,’ I said. ‘We must guard against it, or it will tear us apart. And I see a death.’

I could hear muttering behind me and spoke again. ‘I’m not sure … ’ I said. ‘It’s faint, I can’t see it.’ I could feel an image pushing at the back of my mind. I willed it to become clear, but Ragna’s sharp voice broke into my mind, shattering the dim picture like a reflection in a pond when a stone is thrown in.

‘Thora predicts whatever suits her,’ she said from the back of the crowd. ‘I wouldn’t trust what she says.’

‘Quiet, you’ll disturb her,’ said Asgerd’s voice angrily.

Ragna ignored her. She limped forward and kicked the runes aside. ‘It’s all nonsense,’ she said.

There was angry muttering and dark looks all around me. I could sense everyone’s disappointment at the interruption of the reading. I ignored it, and swallowed my own anger. Ragna had done herself more harm than she had done me. She had finally shown herself up in front of everyone, even Bjorn. Rather than trying to continue with the runes, I scooped the pebbles up in my hands, and restored them to my pouch, which I tucked it into my tunic.

‘So what do we do?’ asked Thrang. He sounded bewildered, as if he had expected something more concrete. As though the runes should have told us to sail west for two days and then follow the cliffs to a ready-made homestead.

I smiled at him. ‘Wait for the fog to clear. When the sun shines, we’ll find our home.’

My casting of the runes had lightened the atmosphere on the ship. Conversations turned on what our stretch of coast might look like and on how much land Bjorn would claim. Our cold food rations tasted better than usual. We had hope of an end to the voyage.

The very next day at dawn, a wind sprang up. The mist was blown away, revealing a landscape full of blues and greens and browns. Everyone set to with a will and we were out to sea long before the sun had risen. The ship creamed through the water, dipping and lifting in the swell, waves slapping at the planking under us. The sunrise was dazzling and filled with promise of a beautiful day.

The sunshine turned the lowering, hostile mountains into picturesque peaks. The water glowed green, so clear we could all see shoals of fish swimming below the surface.

Several huge brown fish with white noses suddenly broke out of the water beside the ship, leaping high into the air and splashing back in again. Several people screamed with fright.

‘What are they, Thrang?’ I asked. ‘Those huge fish?’

Thrang allowed himself a small smile. ‘Not fish,’ he said. ‘They’re dolphins. They won’t hurt us.’

The dolphins followed us for some time, leaping out of the water, looking at us and splashing back in. I had the impression they were curious and playful. It was a great wonder to me to see such large yet graceful sea creatures. They were as big as sheep or pigs, but smooth-skinned and sleek.

The sun sank lower in the sky, sparkling on the water. The wind lessened.

‘I think you were wrong about finding a place to stop today,’ Asgerd said to me, leaning on the figurehead beside me. ‘It’s been high cliffs all afternoon.’

‘We’re close now,’ I told her. ‘Very close.’

My whole body felt tense. The power of the vision and the sense of excitement that came with it overcame all my other feelings. I was leaning out over the prow, straining for a first glimpse of the bay as we rounded the headland.

The first thing I could see was mountains in the distance; their tops sparkling white in the evening sun. I could see how they reared sheer out of the sea. There was nowhere to settle on that side. Then a small island came into view and I cried out, because I recognized it. With a powerful rush, the landscape I saw before me merged with the visions I had seen. Bjorn should be beside me, seeing this. What had gone wrong that I had not foreseen the empty space beside me? I was in the grip of two conflicting emotions. A feeling of destiny ran strongly through my veins, thrilling me. It had brought me to my new home. At the same time I felt a paralysing sense of loss. It kept me frozen at the prow, gazing at the open landscape before me.

Thrang was at the tiller, I knew that without looking. I felt him swing the boat around so that we were sailing into the bay, skirting the small rocky island ahead of us. The wind spilled out of the sail and we slowed to a graceful glide. The air was mild and the water smooth and still around us.

To our left was a long stretch of green scrub, a tangle of small trees and bushes. I could see at once how ideal that would be for our goats and pigs. Further up there would be pasture for horses, cattle, and sheep. The trees were backed by green slopes and rolling hills. And at the head of the fjord was low-lying land that could surely be ploughed. We had arrived. And all around us, I could see not one sign of habitation. We might not be the first people ever to sail here, but no one had settled this place yet. It was an empty bay, just waiting for us.

Bjorn appeared beside me. I turned to him, and he read my excitement at once.

‘This is it?’ he asked me, his whole face lighting up.

When I nodded, he looked about, awed, as though seeing it for the first time.

We sailed into the bay, side by side as I had foreseen. And yet an invisible shadow lay between us.

We beached the ship on shingle on the left-hand side of the bay. An excited, jubilant mood seized everyone as they realized we’d reached journey’s end. I watched Bjorn carry Ragna off the ship, and it was as though a knife twisted in my heart. I was sick to my stomach at the wrongness of this arrival.

‘Can I help you, Thora?’ asked Thrang.

I looked round at him, ashamed to have been seen watching Bjorn and Ragna.

‘I don’t need carrying, Thrang,’ I said ungraciously. He fell back a little, looked as though he would have spoken, but didn’t. He simply stood and watched me as I jumped down onto the shingle. We all climbed ashore, the dogs too. They chased around madly, noses to the ground, tails wagging frantically with excitement.

The men sang and laughed as they unloaded animals, timber, and provisions from the ship. We women picketed the animals where they could graze. I watched with pleasure as the foals rolled and rolled on the ground, rubbing the salt out of their coats, and then fell to tearing up mouthfuls of grass. Aki more than any of them showed his high spirits at being on land again by kicking up his heels and neighing loudly in his squeaky baby voice.

We collected wood and built a fire on the beach to cook the first hot food we had had in many days. When the ship was empty, Bjorn ordered it hauled right up above the high tide mark. By then the barley broth was hot and bubbling in the iron cooking pots and an early nightmeal was served.

It was late before anyone closed their eyes that night. Excitement kept everyone talking. At last, one by one, we fell silent, wrapping ourselves in cloaks and furs and lying down around the long fire to sleep. I lay on my back between Asdis and Hild and watched the sky. Thousands of sparkling stars winked into existence above us and I realized how I had missed them through the long, light nights of summer. It was strange to watch them now from solid ground and not from the deck of the boat. Every now and then, I could have sworn the ground rocked beneath me, but the sensation faded as quickly as it had come. It was the after-effects of being at sea, Thrang had told me.

My arrival was not what I had expected, but we were here now. I’d reached the place that destiny had mapped out for me. I breathed in the crisp, clear air and prayed to Freya. I prayed to her for the courage to grasp my future, whatever it might hold. Then I prayed to Thor to thank him for bringing us safely across the sea, and to Frigg for strength and patience. And in the dark of the night as I drifted into sleep, I resolved to accept whatever came to me.

Those who lay at any distance from the fire were visited by the frost giants that night. A layer of white ice had been breathed onto their wrappings. I awoke just before the dawn and saw it. At first I thought I must be mistaken. It was still summer. But then I realized the reason I had woken up was that I was cold to my very bones. I shivered and huddled in my cloak to warm myself. I curled as small as I could, wrapping my arms around myself. It didn’t seem to help.

After a while, I couldn’t lie still any longer. I sat up, shivering, and crouched by the fire. A few embers were still glowing faintly. I fed them carefully with twigs and sticks that had fallen out of the fire last night. They blackened and steamed and then slowly caught, tiny flames licking across them. I added some larger pieces, warming my chilled hands over them.

The sky was greying in the east, above the hills. The landscape was slowly emerging from the darkness, regaining first its contours, and then gradually its colours too. I hadn’t slept many hours, but I was restless. After a while, I got stiffly to my feet and crept through the sleeping men and women. I passed where Aki was picketed and paused to stroke him. He nuzzled my hand sleepily. I walked some distance up the hill behind us, gazing around me at the new morning. The ice had vanished, dissolving into dampness, which would soon sparkle in the sun.

‘A vast empty land,’ I said aloud to myself. How far away were the nearest people? We’d seen almost no settlements on these northern shores. I heard a step behind me and turned, catching my breath. But it was only Thrang walking towards me.

‘Not as empty as you might think,’ he grunted.

I was a little embarrassed to have been overheard talking to myself. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked. ‘There’s no one here but us.’

‘I saw a glow on the far side of the bay last night,’ Thrang told me. ‘A fire, I’d wager. I’m waiting for the light to look for smoke or a building.’

‘I saw nothing yesterday,’ I said. Then I thought back to our arrival and remembered my attention had been mainly focused on the fertile parts of the bay, not the mountains.

‘There can’t be enough grass to graze a goat on over there,’ I exclaimed. ‘Who would settle on that side of the bay when there is all this over here?’

Thrang looked at me in silence for a moment. ‘Easy to hear you’re a farmer’s daughter,’ he said at last.

I felt vaguely annoyed by this. What was wrong with being a farmer’s daughter anyway? But Thrang was speaking again, his voice slow and unhurried as usual.