Daughter of Fire and Ice (18 page)

We returned from berry picking each evening, browned and weather beaten, our pots, cloths, and aprons full of bilberries, crowberries, and a few late stone bramble berries. We stained our fingers and our tongues dark red as we picked and ate from the low, scrubby bushes and plants. The weather was so fine that despite the cold, we wondered if we had reached the land of the gods. Ragna’s resentful presence when we returned each evening reminded us that we hadn’t. She was fiercely jealous of the freedom we were taking, out of her control. If she had been able to walk further she would have come with us, robbing our outings of their joy.

Normally many of the berries we picked would be preserved in the skyr, the curds that we made for the winter. Berries protected against winter sickness. But we had no cows giving milk, and so no skyr. Instead we shared the berries out at mealtimes, and I wondered how we would fare through the long dark and cold that was coming.

During our outings, I replaced some of the herbs Ragna had destroyed. I picked the leaves and roots of the stone bramble for stomach disorders and coughs. I selected some bilberry leaves for gastric problems and for night vision. Crowberry leaves and stems might also prove useful, so I collected a few. I never took more than half the plants in any spot, leaving the rest to seed and flourish for the following season. The selfheal plant I only found once more beside another hot spring. I feared my stocks were low as we entered a winter in a strange place, unsure how long it would last or how harsh it would be.

It was good when the last walls were put onto the house and we had proper shelter from the cold nights. It was dark and smoky indoors now, but we were glad of the warmth during the long, cold evenings. Bjorn was still supervising the building of the internal walls, such as the animal stalls.

We hoped the sheep could winter outdoors, though that remained to be seen. Eventually the horses might be able to stay out too, but this winter and probably next winter too, they were too young. All the other animals would be brought indoors once the weather worsened. As I watched Bjorn work, and admired his carpentry skills, my thoughts strayed to Aki. One of these stalls should have been for him, I thought sadly. We had only four foals left now.

‘Husband,’ I overheard Ragna say one morning, ‘you are spending a long time building these stalls, but you haven’t yet built our bedroom. When will you do that?’

Asgerd grinned at me and rolled her eyes.

‘Gripe, gripe,’ she whispered with a grin. ‘Will she ever stop?’

Bjorn answered without looking at her or even stopping work. ‘In time, Ragna. We sleep well enough with everyone else.’

I saw several people smirking as I left the house for another day of berry picking. The sleeping arrangements were the subjects of jokes and smothered laughter among the women. None of us could avoid knowing that Bjorn slept on the sleeping platforms in the main room with the other men and never went near Ragna.

Ragna didn’t encourage other women to like her. She hadn’t succeeded in hiding her angry, destructive nature from us for long. We were all wary of her, quick to do her bidding, careful not to cross her. Any of us that did, went short of food for a day. With the men she was more cautious and restrained, hiding her true nature, smiling and flattering them. Bjorn, especially, she strove to please most of the time.

I had to be careful to avoid Bjorn in Ragna’s presence. She watched us both like a hawk. It was torture. To share the same house with the man I loved and yet to have to guard my every look, almost my every thought. To plan my journeys to the door to avoid walking too near to him, without openly looking to see where he was. Not that I needed to. I found, in this strange state of things, that I became more acutely aware of Bjorn’s presence than ever. In order to avoid him, I needed to know where he was at all times.

‘Where is Asgerd?’ I asked Aud one sunny morning. We were all gathered for berrying, but I didn’t want to go without my friend.

Aud shook her head. ‘Ragna told her to stay behind and clean,’ she told me.

I bit my lip.

‘Go on ahead,’ I told the others. ‘I’ll catch you up.’

I hurried back into the house and into the wing that had been built as a latrine. There was Asgerd, sprinkling sawdust. An empty bucket lay discarded beside her.

‘Are you finished?’ I asked. ‘Can you come with us?’

Asgerd shook her head. ‘No, I’m to stay.’

I glanced swiftly over my shoulder to check Ragna was nowhere near.

‘Let me take your place,’ I said in a low voice. ‘She’s punishing you for being my friend. It’s not fair.’

‘No. It’ll just cause trouble. Go, Thora,’ said Asgerd. She didn’t look at me as she spoke. I heard Ragna’s dragging footsteps behind me, and turned to look at her.

‘Is there a problem?’ she asked.

‘I would like Asgerd to come with us,’ I said boldly. ‘To have a day in the fresh air. She’s stayed behind several times and the winter is approaching.’

‘We could all do with fresh air,’ said Ragna in a hard voice. ‘But there is work needing to be done. You don’t mind leaving me here alone to do it every day.’

Her eyes bored into me. We both knew that none of the household tasks were as important right now as the gathering of food. The house was new and only half finished. The men were still working on it. But Ragna wouldn’t see reason. I brushed past her and left, feeling guilty about leaving Asgerd behind. Besides, her company and humour would be sorely missed yet again. And her hands to pick.

The steep walk up the hill to catch up with the others made me short of breath and went some way to calm my anger. But it must still have showed in my face. When she saw me, Aud said: ‘You shouldn’t fight with her, Thora. It only makes everything worse.’

‘If no one stands up to her, she’ll become more and more of a a tyrant,’ I argued.

‘And in what way have you prevented that today?’ Aud asked. ‘Don’t be silly, Thora. She loves a good fight. It doesn’t upset her like it does you. Leave be.’

‘Surely,’ I said, ‘if we stand up to Ragna, and show her kindness and fairness at the same time, it’ll make a difference in the end?’

The others shook their heads at me. ‘You obviously don’t know her sort,’ remarked Aud.

Asgerd had one day’s picking with us and then the fine weather broke. There was a night with a heavy frost, and when we awoke at sunrise, all the ground was white as though it had snowed. Later, a mist rolled in from the sea and we dared not stray from the house in case we got lost. The mist brought an autumn chill with it that made us all shiver if we moved too far from the fire.

‘That’s it for berries, then,’ said Asgerd sadly. ‘The frost will have killed them.’

‘They were good while they lasted,’ I said. ‘I’m worried we may go hungry this winter.’

‘We’ll have no fresh meat, that’s for sure,’ sighed Asgerd, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. ‘It’s strange, isn’t it? It’s slaughtering month, but we have no animals to spare to slaughter. No feasts. Just endless gruel and dried meat.’ She sniffed at the pot I was stirring for breakfast, and pulled a face.

I grinned. ‘By this time next year there’ll be sheep to butcher,’ I reminded her.

‘A year!’ groaned Asgerd. ‘Unless the men can hunt some game.’

I looked sideways at her. ‘I’ve seen nothing,’ I told her. ‘All the time we were out. No signs of larger animals. No tracks, no droppings. The only grazing that’s been done is by our own animals. I don’t think there’s anything to hunt.’

‘Then they’ll have to fish,’ said Asgerd decidedly. ‘We can’t live the winter on what we have. We won’t even have any milk or skyr.’

I felt uneasy at the thought of the winter ahead. I looked around for Ragna, and saw her close by.

‘Ragna,’ I said to her, ‘should we check the food stores and decide whether there’s enough for winter? We might need to think about rationing the food already.’

‘You’d love a good poke around among the stores, wouldn’t you, Thora?’ said Ragna, nastily. ‘As if I’d need the help of a jumped-up, interfering slave girl to check the quantities.’

My offer had been made from concern and a desire to be helpful. Ragna’s answer was like a slap.

‘I’ve never been a slave,’ I replied indignantly, keeping my voice low with difficulty. ‘I’m no slave or servant of yours. I’m a free woman and a healer.’

Ragna hunched an impatient shoulder and limped away towards her husband who was sitting too far away to have heard this exchange.

‘Jealous cat,’ muttered Asgerd. ‘If we do run short of food this winter, I’ll personally cook her and serve her to the men.’

This was so outrageous it should have made me laugh. But I only managed a faint smile. I was still smarting.

The men used the day to work on the inside of the house. It was cramped and noisy as they put up partition walls for the animal stalls at the far end. I sat grinding corn with Ulf as an unwilling helper. There was cutting and banging, noise and dust all around us. At last I saw that besides the sleeping platforms they were also constructing a private bedroom. Ragna directed and watched with great satisfaction. She was getting her way at last. I felt sick to the stomach. Suddenly, I had to get out of the house.

‘Come on, Asgerd,’ I murmured. ‘Let’s go and check on the animals.’

She took her wrap and followed me, looking only mildly surprised.

We stepped out of the dusty, smoky house into a grey, muffled world. After we had taken just a few steps from the house, the noise of the carpentry faded and the house disappeared into the swirling mist. The air was raw and it was raining. The fine misty rain settled on our hair and eyelashes and gathered into droplets.

Asgerd clutched my arm.

‘Thora, we’ll get lost,’ she said. ‘Why do you want to be out in this? It’s not safe.’

‘I couldn’t stand it in there,’ I told her. ‘Will it be safe enough if we stay within earshot of the house?’

‘I suppose so,’ admitted Asgerd reluctantly.

We both walked carefully in the direction of the horses. I’d helped picket them yesterday and thought I could remember where they were. However, we wandered too far to the right and would have passed them had Asgerd not heard the sound of their teeth tearing up the grass.

‘This way,’ she said tugging me towards the sound. A dark shape loomed out of the mist ahead of me. It was the grey foal who had been Aki’s companion. He didn’t have a name. I ran my hands over his damp coat. In return, he lifted his head and nickered softly.

‘Sorry, I’ve no food for you,’ I told him, patting his neck and stroking his mane. The foal lipped my hands and then went back to tearing up mouthfuls of grass. We found the other three foals, also grazing nearby.

‘Well, they don’t seem the least bit bothered by the mist, do they?’ Asgerd said.

‘No, they don’t. I’m more worried about the sheep. They aren’t tethered and could wander off the edge of the cliff.’

‘They’re stupid enough for that,’ agreed Asgerd. ‘But all the animals are thriving here. It’s a fine country and a wonderful climate. Until today, that is.’

I frowned and looked around us, peering into the mist. ‘It’s been wonderful up to now,’ I agreed. ‘But I admit I’m worried about the winter.’

‘Why?’ asked Asgerd, sounding surprised.

‘I think the weather may be harsher than we can well imagine, or than we’ve ever experienced,’ I told her. ‘Not to mention exposed. It’s the vegetation. Have you noticed how small everything is?’

When Asgerd shook her head, I continued.

‘Most of the plants here are the same or similar to the ones at home in Norway. But they are smaller and closer to the ground. Look at the trees. They are tiny. More like bushes.’

Asgerd chuckled. ‘Here’s a good one for you,’ she said. ‘How do you find your way if you get lost in an Icelandic forest?’

‘How?’ I asked, caught off my guard.

‘Stand up,’ Asgerd joked. She laughed but the sound was muffled by the mist and rain. I smiled, despite my worries. Asgerd’s good humour was always infectious.

We dared not search for the other animals in the mist. We might get lost. It was hard enough to find our way back to the house safely. When we walked in through the door, beaded with moisture, I realized at once we would pay dearly for our stolen hour.

The men had laid down tools and were sitting hungrily eating the bowls of broth that Ragna was ladling for them. Each had received a piece of the flat bread that Asgerd had baked that morning.

‘Asgerd,’ snapped Ragna. ‘Go sweep out the animal stalls.’

‘But it’s meal time,’ I objected.

Ragna looked pleased at my words. Always a bad sign. ‘She missed her chores,’ she sneered.

‘We were checking on the horses,’ I explained. But I might as well have saved my breath. Asgerd went off quietly to clean. I turned to follow her, but Ragna called me back. Angrily, I took a place on the bench, where Thrang moved to make room for me. Ragna passed me a bowl with only the smallest scraping of broth and no bread.

I sat and stared at it. I knew I must distance myself from Asgerd. She would suffer from friendship with me and so might Astrid and Erik. I looked over at Erik, sitting quietly on a bench on the other side of the fire. He didn’t look at me. Ragna wouldn’t hesitate to starve him too. He was still not back to full strength even though his cough had cleared.

I sighed quietly and ate the small amount of food I had been given. I was hungry and it did nothing but whet my appetite. Silently, Thrang pushed half of his own bread towards me. ‘Take it,’ he whispered, looking down at me.

I glanced at Ragna and her eyes were on us. I shook my head at Thrang, knowing that if I accepted, he too would go short of food tomorrow.

‘You need your strength,’ I murmured. How many more people would Ragna punish to get at me? I understood at last what she was doing. She wished to isolate me. Without friends, she thought I would be weaker than her. Well, I had some training that would help me. A healer was used to working alone.

The fog lasted four days and then a breeze sprang up from the east, blowing it away. The days were bright, but short and cold. The sun remained low in the sky. I knew from Thrang that eventually the daylight would fail altogether. That was something I’d never experienced in our part of Norway. I watched the stunted plants yellow and wither as the light failed and icy winds began to blow from the north. Snow fell on the mountains on the far side of the bay, gleaming white by both sun and moonlight.