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Authors: Marianne Whiting

BOOK: Shieldmaiden
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‘Forgiveness.'

‘The truth!' I stood above her fighting the impulse to run her through with my dagger. She fell silent.

‘The truth!' I kicked her. She fell and wriggled away from me. ‘Speak, you vermin!'

‘I no kill! No,no.'

‘What did you give her?' She moaned and writhed on the floor. I bent over her. ‘I'll kill you here and now if you don't tell me.'

She could hear I meant it and started to cry.

‘Hauk good to me. Then you come. For me bad. You take Hauk from me. I want hurt you, I make your baby mine.' She snivelled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘I never hurt your baby.'

‘What about Ingefried?' I said and shook her.

‘Ingefried stop me taking Kveldulf. I give herb to make tired, then I take baby. She too, too tired. But,' her voice rose to a shriek: ‘I no kill, never, never. She go, she just go. One day not here.' I dragged her outside and in the faint light from the moon I tried to see in her face if she was lying.

‘What did you say to Kjeld?' She squirmed. Her eyes slid away to avoid mine.

‘No say to Kjeld.' I drew my dagger and pointed it to her neck. She whimpered: ‘No, please, no. I tell. I say to Kjeld, she tired. I say, she old. I no say kill…' Her voice died away.

‘You told him she was too old to work. That's what you told him wasn't it?' She lowered her head.

‘Forgive,' she whispered. ‘I do bad. But I no want her to die.'

I was to preside over my first court. I had realised that, to satisfy the freemen, I would have to punish Ansgar as well as Lydia. The other Christians were regarded as poor, misguided creatures and it would be sufficient to mete out hard labour, less food and a beating.

I sent Thorgunn and Olvir with the younger children to look for mushrooms in the woods. They took Lydia's three children as well. Some argued that the oldest, a girl of six, should stand trial but I ruled that any child under eight was not responsible and had been made by their parents to take part. The household arranged themselves on the benches along the walls. Some looked feverish in anticipation of the punishment they hoped would be given. There was always the possibility of settling old scores and to rejoice in the misfortune of enemies. Many, myself included, saw the opportunity for revenge as well as justice.

The accused were brought one by one to stand in front of me. I sat, alone, behind the table. I dealt out mild punishments to the thralls as I had decided beforehand and nobody argued against it. I was relieved. I saw no advantage in making more enemies by being too harsh on them.

Then Brother Ansgar was brought in front of me. Pale and puffy-eyed he clutched his cross to his thin chest.

‘Brother Ansgar, you are accused of bringing the farm into danger by your open denial of the Aesirs, the very gods who ensure our safety and prosperity. You have broken my trust. You were given safe conduct and a place to follow your religion. But that was not enough for you. You staged a ceremony to challenge our harvest sacrifice and to insult our gods. I kept you safe and you defied my authority. I recognise my blood-debt to you. I will spare your life but you are banished from Swanhill.' Here several voices offered dissent.

‘He must die or the gods will take their revenge on all of us.'

The monk began to shake and whisper his prayers.

‘No,' I said, ‘a life for a life. He saved mine. I can not take his.'

‘But,' said Ake the Old, who had been listening with his hand cupped round his ear, ‘that cancels out the debt then, doesn't it?'

I had to admit it did and I felt a great fear for the little monk. I knew I must get him away from Swanhill and find him a place of safety.

Lydia looked around her as she was dragged in. If she was searching for a friendly face, she was disappointed. I had not realised how much the others had resented it, when Kjeld took the keys from Thorgunn and handed them to her. She was just a thrall and she was put in charge of the household, above the free women, above Thorgunn. He must have done it because he knew she was very capable. Even I had to admit she was. But he had done her no favour.

I repeated the same accusation Brother Ansgar had been charged with. Lydia listened. She seemed to have recovered from last night and stood with her back straight and her head held high. But her hands trembled as she clutched her string of beads with the cross. She must have spent the night rehearsing what to say.

‘I Galician princess. I Kjeld's woman. You must leave me alone.' The hall filled with derisive laughter and jeers. I raised my hand for silence and was gratified when the household heeded my gesture.

‘You are a thrall belonging to Swanhill, nothing more. I deal with you as I please.' Murmurs of approval spread along the benches. Lydia stepped forward, bent towards me and said in a low, ingratiating voice:

‘I give back your baby.' She didn't speak quietly enough. The women sitting closest heard her and passed it on in an angry whisper which grew to renewed clamour as others joined in. Brita raised her hand.

‘I wish to add to the accusation.' I looked at her. ‘She also has taken advantage of her position to do less work and to let her children do less and have better food.' Several others nodded and mumbled their support. I had no way of knowing whether this was true or not but it would make no difference. I went on to my real grievance:

‘Lydia, I also accuse you of causing Ingefried's death. You gave her herbs that made her tired. You then told Kjeld she was too old to work. She knew that he would have her toppled over the edge of Angler's Crag.' I had to swallow hard to keep the tears away. I clasped my shaking hands in front of me on the table. When I continued my voice sounded frail and small in the silent hall. ‘She didn't wait. She leapt to her death. You brought about the death of the woman who was a mother to me.'

It was like the whole assembled household had held their breath and then let go all at the same time. The furious shouting drowned out Lydia's plea for mercy. My spirit soared on the wave of human voices. I was glad I had not taken Ansgar's advice to free the Christian thralls. It meant I could pass judgement on Lydia without reference to the Lawmen. My voice sang with power and determination as I spoke her sentence.

Lydia was taken out and dragged down to the lake. Her hands were tied behind her back and she was put into one of the small boats. Her last journey was watched by all the people she had lived and worked with at Swanhill. Some had been her friends but that was all in the past. The manner of Ingefried's death had turned all against her and there were no words of comfort or pleas for mercy on her behalf. She cried the names of her children, Maria, Jesus and Anna. She said the words of her prayers in her own language. Bard took the oars and rowed with steady strokes out into the middle of the lake, where it is at its deepest. Lydia sat slumped between two grim-faced men. She was shaking her head and looking to the sky.

‘Cristo,' she shouted, ‘los niños, los niños!! Jesu Cristo socorro!' The rest of the household stood on the shore watching, their excited voices mingling with the everyday farmyard sounds. Ansgar stood close behind me, mumbling his prayers. Across the lake Lydia's cries floated towards us: ‘Maariaaa, Jesuuus, Aannaaa.' Then her feet were tied, she was lifted over the side and thrown into the water. She surfaced once before she disappeared and the lake was silent.

Bard returned and came straight up to me. He bent his knee and offered the hilt of his sword. I touched it and thanked him for his service. One by one the others followed. Servants and thralls bent their knees in subjugation. I was mistress of Swanhill. At that moment, Kjeld's scheming to deprive me of my right seemed no threat at all.

12.

It was getting close to the time when the Lawmen would ascend the Thingmound and sit in judgement over wrongdoing and local disputes. Bard approached me one day after the work in the fields was through.

‘Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter you are young and inexperienced in the matters of lawsuits, you will not mind if I offer my advice.'

‘But it should be a simple matter. Kveldulf inherits Swanhill from his father. I inherit Becklund from mine. What can go wrong?'

‘I hear from his freemen that Kjeld is busy gathering supporters for his claim to Swanhill. As the brother, he may be able to argue his right to at least a stake in the farm. It would be as well for you to have some freemen of good standing, or chieftains would be even better, to champion your cause. Your blood-debt to the family of Yngvar Anlafson of Rannerdale can be used against you and you should try to clear it in advance of the Allthing.'

I heeded Bard's advice and sent gifts of animals, cloth, fleeces and jewellery to those of my neighbours I thought could be persuaded to support my claim to Swanhill and Becklund. I sent a message to Yngvar Anlafson's family that I was prepared to pay blood-money and they accepted my offer. To raise money for all this, Bard took some animals to be sold in Cockermouth. I was grateful for the help from my father's old housekarl and rewarded him with an arm-ring made of twisted strands of silver.

Two local chieftains, Bjalke Sigtryggson and Helgi Thorkilson sent word that they had fought alongside my father and would champion my cause without fail. Others accepted my gifts but gave no firm undertaking. Only one returned my offerings. I tried to figure out how many supporters Kjeld would have but I didn't know the area well enough to be able even to guess.

‘He is a great leader,' said Bard. ‘He will be able to call on many to support him.'

‘But my cause is just.' I felt like stamping my foot but Bard shook his head.

‘That, Sigrid, will be up to the Lawmen to decide.'

I sacrificed a heifer to Odin and daubed the rocks and trees in the sacred copse with its blood. I carved the runes for justice on tablets of wood and hung them from the branches of the mighty oak-tree in the middle of the copse. Then I felt I had done what I could and now I must trust to the wisdom of the Lawmen.

I rode with my freemen, their wives and children, my servants and thralls to the gathering by the Thingmound. Bard appointed some trusted servants to stay behind and defend the farm but even without them we numbered almost thirty. We set up our tents and prepared a fire-pit. The children were given leave to join in the games and competitions. They disappeared for hours, only to reappear when there was food. Kveldulf had grown fond of Olvir and insisted on following him around. They came back exhausted at the end of each day and Kveldulf fell asleep in my arms while Olvir told me about who had won the wrestling, who had tried to cheat at archery and who had claimed the prize for the football game.

‘Do you not take part yourself, Olvir?' I said, thinking he was missing out because he felt he had to look after Kveldulf. He looked away and said in a small voice:

‘It's a bit rough, Sigrid. There's an awful lot of shouting and people fight and get hurt.' Then he turned back and looked straight at me. ‘But I'll have a go if you want me to. I don't want you to feel ashamed of me.' I laughed and reassured him I knew no braver man than him and the games were not important.

‘I'm quite fast. Maybe I could go in a race. Would you come and watch?'

The next day I was there as Olvir lined up with the other boys. I had some difficulty keeping Kveldulf out of the way. He didn't understand why he couldn't go with Olvir. The race went along a prepared track. Most of the brushwood and bracken had been cleared, leaving a grassy surface, uneven and slippery but still better than the ground of a battlefield. The boys were shouting and laughing, taunting each other and pushing for a good position. Olvir stood to one side looking worried. He was one of the smaller participants and I hoped he wouldn't take defeat too seriously.

The starter sounded his horn. One over-eager boy in the front row slipped and fell, pulling three others down with him. The others tried to swerve to avoid them but another couple stumbled over the pile of kicking bodies and crashed to the ground. Those who managed to avoid the melee were slowed down and this gave Olvir, who was far out on the edge of the field, the opportunity to take the lead. I could see he was running too fast and would tire but I was pleased he was there. Then I was distracted for a moment. The boys, who had fallen did not bother to run. They turned on the unlucky lad who had tripped them up and a fight broke out. A crowd gathered and I moved away to avoid them. I was brought back to the race when Kveldulf called out:

‘Olvir! Look, Olvir tired.' My foster-son was now at the back of the group of runners. The track went up a slight hill and he didn't have the strength to keep up the pace he'd set. The track turned and levelled out. Olvir managed to run along the inside of the bend and caught up with the pack but he was well behind the leaders. Coming back down the slope two boys let their legs run away with them and tumbled down the hill. Olvir managed to run round one and leap over the other. He stayed on his feet and finished in the middle of the pack. Kveldulf squealed with excitement and I set him down so we could both go up to our little hero and congratulate him. Like most of the boys he lay on the grass fighting for breath. When he was able to speak, he said: ‘Next year I'll win.'

I couldn't spend much time watching the games. Each day I sat at the base of the Thingmound and watched the Lawmen take their seats on the rock. The oldest of them was nearing the end of his life. His white beard was like a thin, wispy cloud around his furrowed face. The other, Mord Lambason of Keskadale, was still a vigorous man, capable of work and fighting. He had known my father and I had hopes he would support my claim. As the lawmen recited the laws, I listened with more intent than ever before and I was reassured there was nothing to stop Kveldulf inheriting Swanhill, nor to me taking over Becklund.

There was much visiting of old friends among the families at the Allthing. Thorgunn and Brita went round with the other freemen's wives. I took Bard and some others with me and went in search of champions in the coming lawsuit. We sought out Bjalke Sigtryggson and Helgi Thorkilson and both stood by their promise of support. They came with me to help persuade others that my cause was just. Now and again I caught sight of Kjeld and his followers. There did seem to be a great many of them.

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