Shieldmaiden (16 page)

I had come prepared with generous amounts of food and drink and now I invited a number of respected chieftains and farmers to share it with me. We put up a large tent made from four sails and supported by sturdy timbers. I had ordered a replica of my father's shield to be made and this I hung above the entrance to my tent. Tied to my waist under my clothes I wore the letter from Thorstein.

Thorgunn and Brita served up a great feast. Lawman Mord Lambason of Keskadale agreed to be my guest and I seated him on my right. He spoke of my father and praised his courage but not his wisdom.

‘We all wish for friends like your father,' he said. ‘But to support a blood-brother when your king has denounced him is to bring disaster on yourself and your family. Kveldulf knew that. He was gallant but foolish.'

I could never see the manner of my father's death as anything other than a cruel injustice but I couldn't afford to offend Mord so I kept this to myself. I showed him the letter from Thorstein and he agreed it was legally binding. We parted with friendly words.

My claims were to be judged the next day. I spent the night outside my tent trying to read my fate in the glowing embers in our fire-pit. I counted the number of firm champions I had and the number of possible supporters. I closed my eyes to picture Kjeld and his entourage. Did he have more than me? Would it matter? I watched the sun rise over the silent field of tents and fires. Kveldulf cried out in his sleep and I went and picked him up. My precious son, I must not fail him.

There were several lawsuits to be heard that day and it was afternoon before it was my turn. Kjeld rose to speak:

‘Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter has no claim to Swanhill for her son. The boy is a bastard. He is not the child of my brother Hauk Gunnarson of Swanhill.'

Mord and the other two Lawmen looked at me. I stood as struck by a thunderbolt from Thor's own hammer. I found my voice and shouted:

‘That is a slanderous lie. Hauk sprinkled his son's head with water. He named him Kveldulf for my father.'

‘Did anyone witness Hauk accepting the child as his?' asked Mord.

‘Yes, I did.' Swein Threefingers stepped up.

‘This is not a witness, he's a thrall.' Kjeld smirked. I looked around at my freemen. None of them had been present.

‘Hauk sent word to our neighbours. I appeal to you who remember to say so.'

Bjalke Sigtryggson and Helgi Thorkelson led a group of my supporters to say they remembered the tidings that Hauk of Swanhill had a son. But Kjeld had more supporters and they all mentioned that Kveldulf, although said to be born early, had been a large, healthy baby and they all thought I had deceived my husband.

‘Hauk told me he suspected Sigrid of having cuckolded him.' Kjeld shouted.

‘That's a lie!' I was shaking and sweat formed on my brow.

‘Not only that but she caused his death.' Kjeld described how Hauk died before the battle of Brunnanburh. This turned many against me and I lost some of my supporters although not Beorn and Helgi nor their men.

‘A man doesn't need the permission of his wife to go to battle.' said Beorn. And if he challenged Yngvar, that was his decision too. You can't blame Sigrid for it.'

‘She drove him away with her constant taunts and tales of her father. He felt belittled in his own home.' Kjeld had turned red in the face and looked ready to attack me. He was told to calm down.

‘Does the boy look like Hauk and his family?' The old Lawman asked. ‘Bring the child here.' Kveldulf was sent for and arrived, riding on Bard's broad shoulders. He smiled and laughed and with his curly fair hair and green eyes, it was clear to all that he did not look like Hauk.

‘He's too young,' I tried. ‘It's too early to say what he'll look like.' The Lawmen deliberated but the mood had turned against me. I stood in front of the mound, looking up at them, feeling very alone. Then they passed judgement.

‘Kjeld Gunnarson, we judge you the legal heir to your brother's farm at Swanhill.'

Kjeld and his supporters cheered. I screamed:

‘You're naming my son a bastard! It's wrong! You do me wrong!'

Mord shook his head.

‘It is the law, Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter. Do not question our judgement, your next claim depends on it.'

His reproof helped me gather my wits. Bard stood next to me. He whispered:

‘You still have Becklund.' Yes, he was right. Kjeld could not take that away from me. Still shaking, I stated my claim and produced the letter from Thorstein. This was accepted and I began to breathe again.

‘But were there not two sons born to Kveldulf Arnvidson?' asked the older Lawman. ‘Your other brother is your elder and has first claim. Do you have anything from him? Do you know whether he is still alive?'

I shook my head, unable to speak.

‘Does anyone here know?' Mord looked around. Nobody said anything.

‘My brother Steinar Kveldulfson's marriage was without issue. As his nearest living relative I have the right to look after Becklund until he returns or is proved dead.' My voice was so hoarse, they couldn't hear me. I had to repeat my words. The two Lawmen nodded between themselves and I took heart. I would have a home for me and Kveldulf. Then Kjeld stepped forward and spoke:

‘All this is no use. The farm was forfeited by Kveldulf Arnvidson when he turned traitor to King Harald and was outlawed. An outlaw cannot own land. There is nothing to inherit.'

‘No! No!' I heard my own desperate scream rise above the shouts of Kjeld's supporters. ‘My father was not a traitor. Never!'

But it was to no avail. The Lawmen ruled that my father had broken his oath to King Harald. I appealed to the assembly that King Harald was not the law in Northumbria but the gathered chieftains were mindful that their own authority depended on the allegiance sworn by their followers according to Norse law. They held that any man who failed in the allegiance to his lord was outside that law and had no right to land.

I was now homeless, bereft of supporters and friends. I was no better than the servants I used to beat.

Flushed with triumph and leering through his whiskers, Kjeld asked permission to bring up the matter of compensation for the death of Yngvar Anlafson of Rannerdale. I could make no claim for Hauk. I had revenged his death by killing Yngvar. His family were prepared to accept the blood-money I had offered. But money from Swanhill was no longer mine to use. With no home nor means to earn a living, I would not be able to pay the debt. I put my predicament to the Lawmen. I was given one turn of the full moon to pay. There was not a glimmer of sympathy in Mord's face as he said:

‘The law states that, unless you pay within the stated time, the family will have the right to claim a life for a life.'

Kjeld, flushed with triumph, laughed. Then he said, with a hateful sneer and a look at my son:

‘Not just any life. Like for like – a male life.'

PART FOUR

RING GIVER

13.

When I lost my lawsuits at the Allthing, I had some offers to join the households of well-to-do chieftains. The way their eyes slid over my body made it all too clear what my position would be, a servantwoman at the disposal of her master. I turned them all down.

I returned to Swanhill only to collect my few belongings. I embraced the tearful Thorgunn and bade farewell to the faithful Bard and the other freemen and thralls. Then I put Kveldulf in front of me on the stallion I had taken from Thorfinn at Mosedale Beck. Olvir rode my little mare, Moonbeam and followed me. Brother Ansgar, had, with the help of the Christian thralls, been hiding out in one of the shielings. When we turned out of the farmstead he rode up on his brown gelding and, without a word, joined us.

I headed for Buttermere. Where else could I go? We took the route past Mosedale Beck. I had not been there since the time I looked for Thorfinn's corpse and a shiver ran down my spine as we passed the place. We stopped to rest and water the horses. Ansgar sat down next to me.

‘The girl said you had to leave and I'd not be safe anymore.'

‘Yes, I sent her to tell you. I used you, Brother Ansgar, to get away from Aethelstan and I will try my best to keep you safe until you can return to him.'

‘No, no as I keep telling you, Sigrid, the Lord, in his wisdom, will use me for his own purpose. If it is his will that I be a martyr here, then I shall go with pride and…'

I put my hand on his sleeve.

‘Yes Ansgar, but does your God want you to throw away your life by provoking people to anger. Angry people don't listen. Stop insulting the Aesirs and you'll have a much easier time. Also, you should understand that many more would listen to you if you didn't insist they abandon their own gods.'

‘But Sigrid, child, have you not heard me. I keep telling you, there is only one God. You have to deny all your heathen idols and false gods. I must bring that message to the people here. You were the means by which the Lord brought me here. He surely must have a purpose for you too in his service.'

I had to admire his persistence at the same time as I despaired of his failure to learn from his mistakes. But it was my actions which had brought him to dangers he didn't even seem to recognise. I had a duty to keep him safe until he could return to court.

The low lying stretch of land between Crummockwater and Buttermere was part under water, which slowed our progress. Our approach attracted the attention of the farm-dogs, who started up a tired-sounding chorus of barking and howling. People assembled by the gate to the enclosed yard. Even from a distance, I could see that the gate hung loose and the wall had crumbled in several places. As I came closer it became clear that the farm had suffered great damage which had not been repaired. Part of the roof on the hall was burnt, the blackened rafters stood outlined against the sky. A bedraggledlooking group of people received me. A tall man limped in front and bade us welcome. His name was Beorn and he remembered me from the visit to Becklund.

‘It seems a long time ago, Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter. Things have not fared well with us.'

Ragnar's mother, Aisgerd, received me at the entrance to the hall. I held up Kveldulf and she never expressed any doubt that he was her grandson.

‘He looks like Ragnar when he was that age,' she said. ‘I don't know where he is, Sigrid. I have not seen him since he fled from Hakon.' Her voice was sad but her eyes shone when she looked at Kveldulf. He had spotted a litter of piglets and toddled off towards them, arms outstretched:

‘Svine, svine, little svine,' he called.

We were invited in and served with curds and coarse bread. I explained our situation and asked if Aisgerd would give us shelter. Her lips trembled when she heard of the threat to Kveldulf 's life.

‘Of course, you must stay here. What little I own is yours to help pay your debt but I doubt it will be enough. We live a simple life. I have but few servants and thralls to do the work. Nobody visits the family of a traitor. My daughters live with me, unmarried, cursed by their father's actions. Three full moons ago we were attacked by cattle-raiders and lost much of our stock. They killed one of my servants and the best of my dogs. It was the second raid since we settled here. I don't feel safe but have nowhere else to go.' She began moaning and rocking in her seat. ‘How my life is blighted by the actions of that husband of mine. Swein caused so much suffering, so much.'

I sat, at a loss for what to say, waiting for her to calm down. Brother Ansgar leant across and took her hand.

‘You must put your trust in our Lord Jesus and he will lead you to salvation.'

I tried to kick him but he moved his foot out of reach. Aisgerd pulled her hand free and got up.

‘My people will be back, wanting their evening meal.'

‘We shall help. Brother Ansgar will fetch water, if you tell him where from.' He answered my glare with one of his sublime smiles.

We settled in to life on the farm at Buttermere. Despite their losses they kept ten cows and numerous sheep up on the fell. But with only five men, four of them old, the fifth a boy, very little land had been ploughed. Aisgerd's daughters, Thora and Gyda were with four of the thralls up on the fell, tending the cattle. I saw them only occasionally when one of them came down from the hills with the butter and cheese they had made and to collect provisions for another week. It was strange to be in a place so empty of children. One of the servant women had a girl of about eight and a lad of ten but that was all. The household made Olvir welcome and everyone fussed over Kveldulf.

Aisgerd seemed to have spent more time bemoaning her ill fortune than trying to improve it. With the two girls and the strongest workers away in the summer-shieling, I found the household looked to me for guidance. The house must be repaired but first we needed food for the winter. I set the men to plough the neglected fields. They shook their heads when I led Thorfinn's stallion and my mare out and shackled them to the plough. It was against our ways to use good horses for ploughing, they muttered. But when I showed them that by alternating the horses with the oxen, they were able to get twice as much done, their objections stopped. After all, who was left on the farm to ride a great stallion?

Olvir and the other children collected fire-wood and the old women foraged for mushrooms, leeks, apples and other wild food to store for the winter. I made Ansgar help me repair dry-stone walls and prepare the meadows for the return of the animals from their summer grazing. I found he was not as useless with tools as he had seemed during the harvest at Swanhill. When I asked him about this he smiled.

‘I have thought about what you said and I have come to realise that, around here, people need practical help as well as salvation. Jesus Christ told of the good farmer who prepares the ground so his seeds grow well and give a good harvest. If the scribe has to turn farmer in order to prepare the minds of the people so he can sow the word of our Lord, then so be it.' I noticed then his hands, blistered and grazed, with dirt under broken nails.