Shieldmaiden (29 page)

‘I took some from Thorfinn. Please, don't tell him, please!'

‘You took some. You stole!'

‘Only a little in case I needed it.'

‘What do you mean, need it? Why should you need the mushroom at all?'

‘Please Sigrid, I've said I'm sorry. I don't feel well. Promise you won't tell Thorfinn or Ragnar. Don't tell anyone. I don't want anyone to know.'

‘Why did you need the mushroom, Olvir? Answer me.' The delay told me another lie was on the way.

‘I didn't really need it. I just wanted to know what it felt like. I'm sorry. I must have taken too much or something.'

I leant back against the wall. Olvir was nine years old, bright and inquisitive. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he had just been experimenting. But then…

‘Why did you lie about the trader?'

He half-turned and gave me a sideways glance. Calculating. This was not the Olvir I knew. What was going on with the child?

‘I said it 'cause he's a nasty man. He cheats.'

‘Who did he cheat? How do you know?'

‘He cheats at hnefatafl. I caught him. I saw and when I told on him he tried to hit me.'

This sounded plausible enough but I was still uneasy. We sat in silence for a while but I couldn't regain the usual feeling of comfort and trust between us.

When we returned inside Toki's voice stabbed like an icicle: ‘The boy has uttered slanderous lies against a respected trader. How do you intend to punish him?' I shook my head.

‘He has confessed and apologised. I know he's very ashamed.'

‘He needs a beating.'

‘I don't beat my children. I was never beaten nor were my brothers nor will my children be.'

‘It is the Christian duty of a parent to chastise their errant children until they learn obedience. And that duty extends to servants and thralls. The lad must be taught a lesson. He's far too confident and familiar for a thrall.'

‘He's my foster-son. He may be born of a thrall-woman but…' I had never given Olvir his freedom. I could have done it at the Allthing but I was too full of my own concerns then. So he was a thrall.

‘Toki is right.'

My mother took charge. I had to accept that, in her house, she held the right to pass judgement. He was the son of her thrallwoman so Olvir belonged to her not me. As Toki led him outside Olvir looked away from me. My brave, faithful, little champion, I had failed to protect him and he deserved better.

Autumn closed in, a sad, lonely time when nature itself seemed to grieve with me. I tried to keep busy but the occupations open to me were limited to the weaving and embroidering I had always found tedious. With too much time on my hands I fell into a deep melancholy. Accompanied by a serving woman and one of Toki's underlings I took long walks in the surroundings of Nidaros. The child growing inside me was used as an excuse to make it clear to me that I was not free to wander too far and my horse was kept in the royal stables. My thoughts were heavy with self-reproach. I was separated from my love, my children would be bastards for all time and there seemed little hope of returning to Cumbria. I wondered where Ragnar and Thorfinn were and I wondered what had befallen Brother Ansgar who had so selflessly and pointlessly put himself in danger for my sake. I bitterly regretted my ill-temper with Hakon which had put us all in this hopeless situation.

My mother was concerned about my low spirits and arranged for me to learn to read. She had for some time taken instruction from Toki and from the priest at Nidaros. The lessons were heavy with Christian preaching but I decided that to be able to read would be useful and anyway there was no point in upsetting her. Olvir joined us and learnt the Latin letters much faster than me. I was not entirely happy about the way he took an interest in the religious content but at least I knew where he was during our lessons.

It was during one of our lessons that I understood that my mother had a very definite aim to her learning.

‘I wish to assist my brother Hakon in his efforts to bring the salvation of Christ to the heathens in this country. We have talked about establishing a holy community.'

‘What do you mean by that?' I asked but before she could answer, Olvir was there, eager to show off.

‘It's what Brother Ansgar belonged to. They all live together and pray and… um…and.'

‘It would be a community of men and women who wish to devote their lives to the service of Our Lord. I shall take holy orders as soon as it can be arranged and Hakon has agreed to gift a house and some land. From there the word of God will travel across the land.' I looked at her eager face and felt I looked at a stranger.

I was too tired and dejected to exercise full control over my children. It didn't matter with Kveldulf. He was very happy at Nidaros. There were small horses from Shetland for him to ride. Anlaf made him a small bow and taught him to shoot. Ulf helped him train Striker, no longer a puppy, to fetch and obey commands. He began to speak like the Norwegians in a chirpy, sing-song accent. He played with the other children and many adults praised him for his fearless nature. My mother spoilt him worse than anyone, claiming this was her right. Even Toki seemed to approve of the lad. Hakon sometimes requested his attendance and this filled me with dread. Hakon had spent his childhood at Aethelstan's court as a token of the friendship between the two kings. Might Hakon have similar plans to keep my son at his own court?

Meanwhile I saw less and less of Olvir. My mother made arrangements to grant him his freedom and to have his status as my foster-son formally recognised. But she complained that he spent too much time at the hnefatafl board and had begun to play for money. He seemed to win more often than lose but this could make him enemies as well as friends and he was too young to exercise judgement in the matter. It was clear he ought to spend more time with other children.

‘The only thing he excels at is running.' Toki's voice indicated this was not among the most important skills for a Viking. ‘He goes for long runs alone and he shows great endurance and speed but he must learn to use weapons as well or he'll spend his life running away from battles.' I spoke to Olvir about this and he promised to pay more attention to fighting-skills.

‘But remember Sigrid,' he said, ‘I promised to win a race at the Allthing.'

‘I worry about you. Where do you go when you run out alone?'

‘Oh, all over the place.' He shrugged his shoulders and sauntered off.

Rain, darkened skies and a cold wind from the North made me spend more time indoors. I grew heavy but not even the approaching birth of my child could brighten my thoughts. Only in the evenings when we sat, warm and snug, around the fire and my mother told us stories, did I feel at peace. When I closed my eyes I could almost imagine myself a child again, safe and happy back at Becklund.

A great storm brought heavy snow. It lasted for three days and, to avoid getting lost in the blizzard, the servants tied ropes between the houses, barns and byres. When the wind abated, we opened the door and cold, fresh air pushed its way in to replace the smoke-laden fumes. Outside everything was hushed and all contours in the landscape rounded and soft under the thick blanket of snow. Land, trees and buildings sparkled in the sunshine, blinding our indooreyes. Then children and dogs began chasing round and the air filled with happy voices. Skis and sledges were dug out from the stores. Olvir and Kveldulf got skis and made determined efforts to keep up with the other children, who had developed their skill over many years and laughed at the beginners.

Then the Valkyries rode across the evening sky spreading fear, making people wonder what disaster was about to strike and who had brought it about. It is better to stay indoors, out of the way of their wrath but I was spellbound and couldn't move. As the winged horses raced across the sky, there were brilliant reflections from the armour of the riders and there followed in their wake shimmering waves of green and golden lights. They filled the darkness above me. It was beautiful and dreadful. I trembled with awe. Then one of the servants came up behind me and touched my arm. I turned round to ask what he wanted. Behind him I saw the impossible. Far away behind the trees, where the sun had set many hours before, a pale red glimmer coloured the horizon. Yesterday's sun was returning. Tomorrow's sun was rising from the wrong place. The harbinger of Ragnarok, the final battle between Gods and giants, the chaos when the snake of Midgaard shall whip the sea into a giant wave, when the Fenriswolf will break its fetters and with fire burning in his eyes swallow the world.

I felt a stab to my stomach, fell to my knees and let out a groan of despair.

‘No sound, Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter. It will bring down the fury of the Valkyries.'

‘The sun! Ragnarok!' I raised my arm but he caught it.

‘Don't point. The light guides the Valkyries. It must not be mocked or disturbed. It is not the final battle, not yet.' He led me towards the house.

‘My children!'

‘Safe. They were brought inside so no light could descend and sever their heads from their bodies.'

I shivered. Another stabbing pain tore through me. My second child asked to be born. I wondered what fate befell a child born under the light from the armour worn by Odin's own shieldmaidens.

As with my first birth, I struggled and suffered great pain. The sauna was fired up and Old Kirsten was sent for. She arrived with her granddaughter Kirsten and bemoaned the lack of fresh shepherd's purse to deter evil spirits. She threw a handful of pine cones on the fire. They filled the air with a soothing scent of resin. In a brief moment between the birth-cramps I heard her ask my mother:

‘What have you given her so far?'

‘Silverweed and motherworth, small doses only. We keep very few strong herbs here.' Old Kirsten nodded and asked her granddaughter:

‘So what would you do now?'

‘I would mix a small amount of rue with the white deadnettle.' The girl answered promptly and Old Kirsten nodded again.

‘The Valkyries,' I panted, ‘What will happen?' Old Kirsten looked at me and pursed her lips.

‘Hmm. Let's add some henbane. She may start raving but it will pass.' She came over to me and looked between my legs. She pressed her dry, claw-like hands over my belly. ‘Ah, a breech birth. This is not good. I shall try to turn the baby but let's get something to still you first.' She waved Young Kirsten over.

‘Watch carefully. Put your hand here.' They treated me like a slab of meat. Why did nobody listen to me? I cried out:

‘The Valkyries, are they still riding the sky? What will happen?' The young girl put a hand on my forehead.

‘They are gone. It is almost midday. Try to be still. The Norns will weave the destiny of your child whether you worry about it or not.'

The draught they gave me was as bitter as gall. I choked and coughed but was forced to drink. Then the walls began to sway and ripple. From the fire rose a cloud with red, glowing eyes, flared fiery nostrils and silver horns. Its hot breath filled me with the strength of a giant and together we roared the battle cry of the Norse: Odin, Odin. With my bare hands I fought a three-headed demon. He forced himself inside me and filled my belly with flames. They grew and grew and I screamed and I heaved and I pushed until it tore me apart and I sank into a whirlpool of blackness.

When I woke I thought for a moment I was back at Swanhill, that time had reversed and I had just given birth to Kveldulf. The headache, the nausea, the cloying smell of blood, birth fluids and sick were the same. I tried to sit and winced. My cleft was on fire. I felt I would never be able to move again. I moaned and called out for Ragnar. Someone rose from the bench opposite. I strained to see.

‘Sigrid,' my mother put an arm round my shoulders to support me, ‘you have another son, a healthy, strong boy. Drink this. No, don't worry it is only shepherd's purse to help staunch the blood. I have a poultice as well to put between your legs. It will sting at first but we must stop the bleeding.'

She washed the sweat from my body and dressed me in a fine shift. Toki arrived and carried me to the house. I could not hold back my tears when the red, wrinkly little face of my baby emerged from the swaddling. I loved him more than my life but to the world he was just another bastard.

Kveldulf was led up to my bed to see his baby brother. He was not impressed.

‘He's too little. You said Keluf have brother to play with.'

‘He'll grow. He'll be a baby at first, then he'll grow and you can play. Come and have a closer look.'

He crawled on to the bed and snuggled up. He giggled.

‘He is suckling you just like the lambs! I did too, didn't I? But I don't any more.'

I felt a little less sad. ‘Where is Olvir?'

Nobody knew. One of the women left to look for him but returned alone.

‘I don't understand,' she said, ‘he was here when Old Kirsten brought the baby. I remember him having a good look when the baby was bathed. I had to squeeze past him to be able to see anything myself.'

‘I'm sure he'll be back,' said my mother, ‘rest now. I'll wake you when he comes.'

When I woke the hall was quiet save for the peaceful snores of the household. My baby rooted and I put him to my breast. Another greedy feeder, another brave little warrior. I was drifting off to sleep again, when there was a firm knock on the door. The servant closest got up and asked who disturbed the house so late. There was an answer and the servant called out:

‘It's just Olvir. Where have you been, child? We were out looking for you. You'll be in trouble again.' He pulled the bolts aside to let Olvir in.

When the others heard him they turned, muttered and prepared to go back to sleep. When the door swung open it was not Olvir who entered. Four tall, looming figures in bulging cloaks pushed their way inside. Their faces below the rims of their helmets were hidden under pieces of cloth. One made his way over to Toki and held a knife to his throat. Another threw a shawl over my mother's shoulders and pinned her arms to her body. The other two stood back to back, their swords drawn, in the middle of the hall.