Daughter of Fire and Ice (16 page)

It was easy to forget that winter would soon be upon us. The sun was hot and the skies were clear. Only the lengthening nights with their bitter cold were an indication of the change of the season approaching.

As soon as the roof went onto the house, we broke camp and moved from the beach up to our new home. Now at least we would have some shelter against the rain when it came. We stacked the hay we had made at one end of the house, feeling proud of our achievement, and beside it we put all the supplies we had brought from Norway. The walls were constructed, seaward first, and we had more shelter from the wind. The fire in the centre of the hall warmed us better. The cooking was faster without a constant wind blowing the flames this way and that.

Another fire was lit at some distance from the house and worked as a forge. Grim turned out to be a skilled smith and set to work with the iron we had brought with us making keys for what would be the front door and the food store. My father had been a skilled smith and I took pleasure in watching Grim work. Sometimes I took a turn at working the bellows for him to keep the fire white hot. It was strenuous but satisfying work as I watched the pieces take shape. Once the keys were done, Grim set to repairing tools that had been damaged and making new nails.

‘Now the autumn can come!’ cried Asgerd cheerfully as she stirred barley porridge in its iron pot. It was early morning and almost time for breakfast.

‘It’s harvest month, but we have nothing to harvest,’ I said. ‘It seems strange. And as none of the animals are old enough to slaughter, we’ll have no meat for the winter.’

‘We have a fair bit of food stored though,’ said Asgerd, undaunted. ‘We’ll survive the dark months. This time next year, we’ll be breaking our backs over the harvest.’

‘If the gods are willing,’ I agreed. ‘And there’ll be berries to gather soon.’

‘My favourite time of year,’ said Asgerd with a smile. ‘You’ve already collected some healing plants, I see.’

I nodded and continued sorting the pile in front of me, tying the stems that had dried into neat bundles to hang up. I had gathered a fresh stock of valerian and some selfheal that I had been surprised to find growing next to the spring above the house. It was a useful little plant for treating burns but I hadn’t expected to find it in such an exposed spot. Its purple flowers had dried to brown seed heads, but it was recognizable to the trained eye.

There was a banging behind me. I looked around to see what was being built now. Bjorn and Thrang were fitting the door to the food store. It was an important step in the building of the house. The food stores were always kept locked away to prevent pilfering.

When the door was hung to his satisfaction, Bjorn tried the key. It turned easily. Ragna brushed past me when she saw this and held out her hand.

There was a moment’s silence.

‘The key. If you please, husband.’ There was an edge to Ragna’s voice.

I saw Bjorn glance uneasily at me and wished he would not. I tried to busy myself with my herbs, but I caught a glimpse of Ragna’s angry, narrowed eyes as she followed the direction of his look. She said nothing, however. That wasn’t her way. She rarely argued with Bjorn, but if he failed to do as she wished, she found ways to punish both him and me. Bjorn continually betrayed, in his glances towards me, that he wanted to consult me. He betrayed the closeness that had existed between us, however briefly. It was unwise; Ragna was mistress of the house now. Once the house was finished, she would rule it completely. Even Bjorn would have to do as she said indoors.

My heart sank at the thought.

Reluctantly, Bjorn handed over the key. She put it on a strip of leather around her neck, and shuffled away. I looked up to find Bjorn’s eyes on me again. I met his look steadily. We both knew that if things had turned out differently, he would have given the key to me. I shrugged very slightly and bent over my plants again. There was nothing either of us could do.

‘Thora!’ came Ragna’s sharp voice. ‘What are you doing sitting around so stupidly? It isn’t as though there’s no work to be done.’

I sighed and laid my plants carefully aside in order to help serve the daymeal. Everyone gathered around the fire to eat.

‘Has anyone else noticed the spring above the house?’ I asked, once everyone’s first hunger was appeased and talk had begun again. ‘It runs hot out of the ground and steams.’

There were some surprised looks at my words and Ragna scoffed audibly. I kept my face expressionless. Bjorn paused, his shell full of porridge halfway to his mouth.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked.

I nodded. ‘It’s hot to the touch,’ I told him. ‘And there are plants growing around it that would normally only grow in sheltered, warm places.’

‘I’ve seen such springs on the south coast,’ put in Thrang, in his unhurried way.

Bjorn’s eyes lit at once with keen interest. He quickly shovelled the last mouthful of food into his mouth. ‘Show me,’ he asked, getting to his feet.

‘What? Now, in the middle of the meal?’ cried Ragna affronted.

‘I’m finished,’ said Bjorn curtly, already striding out of the house. I hurried to keep up with him, aware of many pairs of eyes following us.

Bjorn paused, waiting for me to lead him to the spring. I climbed the steep slope above the house to a hollow, almost a fold in the hillside. The ground was boggy here; wet and soft but very fertile. When we had reached the spot, I stopped, twitched my tunic clear of the mud and crouched down to pull back the lush growth of grass and other greenery that hid the small pool. A cloud of steam rose as I did so. I dipped my hand into the water to reassure myself that I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. It was scorching hot.

‘See for yourself,’ I said to Bjorn.

He crouched down opposite me and dipped his hand into the water, whipping it out again with a muted cry of surprise. I couldn’t help smiling at his astonishment.

‘How is this possible?’ he asked, bemused, testing the water again, more cautiously this time.

I shrugged. ‘I’ve never come across such a thing before,’ I admitted. ‘But this is a new land with many wonders. Call it a gift from the gods.’

‘It doesn’t smell good,’ said Bjorn sniffing at the pool. He shook a few drops into his mouth and grimaced. ‘Rotten eggs,’ he remarked. ‘Some gift.’

Thrang and Erik approached us now. Both tested the water and Erik exclaimed in astonishment.

‘I’ve seen bathing pools built,’ remarked Thrang. His words hung in the air, full of possibility.

‘That would be wonderful for winter,’ I said tentatively. ‘We won’t be able to use the lake in the cold and the dark.’

‘We could channel this water closer to the house,’ suggested Erik, enthusiastically. ‘It drains down this way anyway.’ He got up and began to follow the boggy ground as it wound down past the homestead. Thrang followed, listening as Erik explained how it could be done if the water course were to be lined with stone and clay. I crouched quite still by the pool, hearing Erik’s voice fade. Bjorn grasped my wrist and held it tight.

‘I’m sorry for the way that Ragna treats you,’ he said hurriedly. ‘And I’m sorry about the foal.’

He looked at me, but his eyes quickly fell. ‘I know you’re angry with me,’ Bjorn continued after a pause. ‘And perhaps you’re right to be. But I acted as I thought best for you. I tried to honour my promise to your father. If you think you are the only sufferer, you are sorely mistaken.’

I met his eyes at last and saw pain in them. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘And I’m sorry too, for what I said … that night on the island. I didn’t mean it.’

I knew I was being weak admitting this, that the confession might undo the distance I’d created between us, but I couldn’t bear to see him so unhappy.

‘I know,’ Bjorn said and released my wrist. I could see the marks where his fingers had gripped me. I got up and walked away a few paces. Erik and Thrang were discussing a location for the bathing pool near the house. I wished I could say more to Bjorn, but it was dangerous ground. And what was the use? To speak of my feelings now could only harm us both.

‘This is a great find,’ said Bjorn, indicating the spring. He had reverted to his practical manner and I was both relieved and sorry.

‘Yes. Once the house is finished, it would be a good project to think about,’ I said in as cheerful a voice as I could manage.

We walked back down to the unfinished longhouse. Bjorn joined Thrang and Erik in their discussion. I went on into the house and was brought up short by a strong herbal smell. Ragna was alone by the fire in the empty house. It took me only a heartbeat to realize she had thrown my entire gathering of medicinal plants onto the fire. I started forward impulsively, my hands shaking with shock, thinking it might still be possible to rescue some of them. But all that remained was a blackened twist of shrivelled stalks, the flames still licking around them. I watched them burn and fall to ashes, the precious leaves and seeds that had held so much power in them. Now it was all wasted.

‘I can’t replace this,’ I said as calmly as I was able, whilst inside anger almost choked me. I was used to my skills being treated with respect, even with reverence. I could scarcely comprehend this wanton destruction. It was like a violation.

‘Oh, were they important? Well, don’t leave them lying around for people to fall over next time,’ retorted Ragna.

‘You must hope not many of us fall ill this winter,’ I said looking directly at her. ‘I might not have the medicines I need to heal them.’

If I had expected to shame her, I was disappointed. Her face twisted into a satisfied grin.

‘Let’s hope it’s you that gets ill then, shall we?’ she said.

Asgerd, Aud, and I hauled firewood the next morning. The best driftwood logs had been set aside for building, but there were plenty of smaller stumps and branches or even whole tree trunks that for one reason or another had not been considered building material. Some pieces we could carry up alone; for the largest pieces, we worked together in twos or even threes, dragging them up to the house.

It was hard, back-breaking work. When the sun was just past its zenith, we paused on the beach for a drink of water and a brief rest to restore our strength. Despite the pale sunshine, there was a chill wind and the excess heat quickly left our bodies. Thrang came down from the house to stand near us. He always did his share of work like everyone else, but could never keep away from the shore for long. He was gazing out across the bay now, one hand shading his eyes.

‘Looks like we’re going to meet our neighbours at last,’ he said.

We all looked round. My heart jumped into my mouth. I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps I thought this would be another Svanson come to steal from us.

I shaded my eyes like Thrang but could see nothing. I was too short sighted. Aud and Asgerd were already commenting on the boat while it was still a blur to me. Instead I shut my eyes and tried to sense the visitors.

At first there was nothing, but then suddenly they were quite clear to me.

There are two. Father and son
, I spoke aloud.
The father has a favour to ask of us. His intentions are friendly, but he’s … I think he’s not safe. And …
I was flooding with emotions. I could feel loss and great sadness. And anger. It threatened to overwhelm me. I snapped my eyes open.

The others were staring at me now, rather than at the boat.

‘I’ll go and tell Bjorn,’ said Thrang. He turned from us and climbed the hill to the house in swift, strong strides.

I took a breath to clear the mists of my vision.

‘Where does it come from?’ said Aud, gazing at me almost fearfully.

‘I feel them,’ I said, hesitantly. It was hard to explain my visions. It was like trying to describe sight to a blind man.

‘What do you mean, he isn’t safe?’ demanded Asgerd. ‘That’s the bit that worried me.’

‘I don’t think he means
us
any harm,’ I said. But I wasn’t entirely sure what I had sensed. As though the man was two different people. I’d never come across anything like that before.

We stood looking out towards the boat which even I could see now. Before long, Bjorn and Thrang joined us.

‘What is it, Thora?’ Bjorn asked. I explained again, as best I could, what I had felt. We all stood together and watched apprehensively as the boat approached. We were joined by others from our household. Erik and Grim crunched their way onto the beach, closely followed by Asdis and Jon.

Soon we could hear the splashing of oars. A small boat came closer and closer until at last it struck the shingle with a rattle and the two occupants jumped out. One was huge, like a walking mountain. He dwarfed even Thrang. The other was a small but broad boy of about seven or eight winters. Both had a halo of red hair and were spattered with freckles. The man was bearded and on his nose grew a large, unsightly mole that sprouted black hairs.

Thrang and the others hurried forward to help pull the boat up out of the water. Then, warily, they all greeted one another.

‘I’m Olvir,’ said the stranger. ‘And this is my son, Ulf.’

Bjorn made our introductions. When my turn came to meet Olvir, I found his blistering stare unnerving. I dropped back a pace.

When Bjorn invited the visitors up to the house, Olvir nodded his huge head and then bent into his boat. He hauled out the most enormous portion of butchered carcass I’d ever seen. It was no animal I recognized. Olvir slung it over his shoulder as though it were merely a sheaf of corn. Everyone stared, but Olvir merely stood and waited for Bjorn to lead the way up to the house. He refused all offers of help on the way up and bore it all the way to the house himself. Then, once we had all entered, and before Bjorn could introduce the others, he flung it down at my feet and said:

‘A gift for your store cupboard. Whale meat.’

I was acutely aware of his mistake. Of the women in the household, only Ragna and I wore coloured clothes. These marked us as free women. The slaves wore plain woven cloth. Olvir had assumed I was the head of the household. There was an awful, lingering silence. I didn’t know how to explain the mistake without mortifying our guest or offending Ragna.