Daughter of Fire and Ice (17 page)

Ragna came forward and cleared her throat to get attention.

‘Thank you for your generous gift,’ she said.

Bjorn hurried to introduce her: ‘This is my … wife, Ragna,’ he muttered.

Olvir looked from one to the other of us and then shrugged.

The awkward moment passed, but I knew Ragna wouldn’t forgive me in a hurry. For now, though, she said nothing, obviously taking pleasure in ordering us about in front of our very first visitor.

‘Jon and Vali, cut off a portion of meat for a meal and carry the rest into the store. I’ll unlock it for you. Asgerd and Thora,’ she ordered, ‘you can roast the meat for nightmeal, at once. Aud, bake some flatbread.’

We hurried to do her bidding, while Ragna ordered Karl to broach a barrel of mead. I watched the men covertly as I sliced the unfamiliar meat and spitted it on sticks ready to roast. They talked in low voices and from the words I could catch, they were discussing the fishing and the climate here. Olvir didn’t seem so frightening now that he was sitting down. Certainly his manner and voice were calm. Yet there was something about him that unsettled me.

I noticed his son sitting quietly beside him, watching everything with restless, anxious eyes. He saw me looking at him and scowled. I smiled and he looked away.

Bjorn went outside to talk and walk with his guest. The boy, Ulf, wandered out too. I could see him standing by the house gazing at the foals. I called Astrid over to me, as she was the only child of our household, and took her outside to move the pickets. I invited Ulf to come with us, thinking the two children might become friends. Ulf followed, but sullenly. When we got close, the grey foal rushed to butt us, looking for food, and to my surprise, Ulf backed away, clearly terrified.

‘He’s only being friendly,’ I told him. ‘Come and stroke him. Look, I’ll hold him for you.’

Tentatively the boy came forward and put his hand out to touch the foal’s coat. Then he snatched it back.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘What is it? It’s a foal,’ cried Astrid. ‘Haven’t you ever seen a horse before?’

Ulf shook his head, his eyes still apprehensively on the animal, clearly nervous it was going to make a sudden move.

‘It’s all hairy,’ he said.

My eyes widened in surprise. ‘Don’t you have any animals where you live?’ I asked him, nodding across the bay. He looked at me sideways.

‘We had chickens,’ he said. ‘But they died. And there’s fish and whales in the sea.’

We took him round and introduced him to the cattle, the goats, and the pigs. He became more confident each time and was brave enough to pat the goat without prompting. He and Astrid were very suspicious of one another, but I hoped they’d get along. It was lonely for Astrid to be the only child here.

‘So what do you eat if you have no animals?’ I asked Ulf.

‘Fish and whale meat, of course,’ he replied. ‘We collect birds’ eggs in spring. And catch puffins in the summer.’

‘And how many of you live over there?’

The boy’s face closed up. He looked sad. ‘Just me and father,’ he said after a pause.

‘Was there someone else?’ I asked gently.

‘There was my mother,’ he said, his voice tight. ‘She died having a baby, and the baby died soon after. And there was Thorir, he was father’s kinsman, but he drowned in a storm.’

‘So there are just the two of you now?’

Unthinkingly, I put out my hand in sympathy and touched the boy’s shoulder. He shrugged away.

‘Yes, and I’m staying with him, whatever he says!’ he told me angrily.

Suddenly I understood. The broken pieces of vision and the boy’s anger all fitted together and made sense. Olvir was going to ask us to foster, or at least care for, his son.

I looked around for Bjorn. He was walking back towards the house, head bent as he listened to whatever Olvir was saying.

The deal was negotiated over mead and nightmeal. We sampled the unfamiliar whale meat that tasted rather like beef. At first we ate gingerly, unsure of ourselves. But once we realized how good it was, we all feasted, glad of fresh meat once more. During the meal, Bjorn accepted charge of the boy. I could see Ragna colour with anger. Bjorn didn’t notice and turned to her, expecting her agreement.

‘So, Ragna,’ he said, ‘we’re to foster Ulf.’

Ragna’s stony face should have warned him but he gave no sign of it.

‘I can’t take charge of a boy his age,’ she said flatly.

Bjorn’s face showed shock for a moment, but then the expression passed as swiftly as clouds passing over a field of corn on a windy day. He smiled.

‘Of course, you couldn’t be expected to do so,’ he agreed at once. He looked at me. ‘Thora can have charge of him. You don’t mind, do you, Thora?’

I shook my head, dumbly. And it was done. I had a child to care for. Ulf was two winters younger than my own brother and would be quite a responsibility.

Ragna was furious; I knew that without looking at her. Her anger radiated from her in waves. She had missed an opportunity to please Bjorn and I had done so instead. I would be lucky to eat at all the next month.

I was aware of Ulf scowling up at me. I pitied him, but I knew his father was doing the best he could for the boy. I could only imagine how hard it must have been for a man on his own to care for a child that age. He must be aware every time he went out fishing and risked his life on the sea, that if he didn’t return, Ulf would starve. With us, he would always have people to care for him and teach him the skills he needed to learn.

‘I’d like to do you a favour in return,’ said Olvir. ‘You spoke of a bathing pool you wanted to build. I’d like to do that for you.’

Everyone stared at him in astonishment. Bjorn gathered his wits first.

‘We’d be very glad of any help, of course,’ he said. ‘But it’s far too great a task for one man.’

‘No,’ said Olvir at once. ‘I work better alone. You have enough to do preparing for winter. I’ll begin in the morning.’

I was woken well before dawn by the sound of iron ringing against stone. I sat up, confused. Ulf, who lay between me and Asdis, stirred in his sleep. Tucking the furs more securely around him, I got up to see what was happening.

Outside the house, in the wind and the darkness, I could make out the shape of a massive man, stripped to the waist, and swinging a huge tool. His aura was a furious blur of reds and browns, glowing brightly around him in the night air. I stared at him, sleep still dulling my comprehension.

Bjorn joined me.

‘I think our visitor has begun his self-imposed task,’ he said softly.

‘Oh,’ I said, understanding at last. I said nothing more. It felt good to be so near to Bjorn in the darkness without worrying who was watching.

After a while Bjorn spoke again.

‘Is he safe, this new neighbour? I confess he makes me nervous.’

‘There’s something not right about him,’ I admitted. ‘There’s too much red in his aura. It suggests anger, but he doesn’t seem an angry person.’

I felt Bjorn’s fingertips brush mine in the darkness and my heart leapt into my throat. ‘Keep an eye on him. And on his son,’ he said softly, and then he moved away from me. I felt a moment’s disappointment, but then saw that others were emerging from the house, staring at the spectacle of the man working so furiously. But it wasn’t until dawn broke that we could see just how much he had done. A great hole gaped next to the house, where Bjorn had marked out the size of the bathing pool. Huge rocks lay on the ground, tossed aside like a child’s toys. It should have taken several men to move them but Olvir had pulled them out alone. There was a tumbled mound of topsoil besides.

When I went to call him for breakfast, I could smell the acrid smell of his sweat as it poured off him. Several broken spades and a shattered pick lay scattered about him.

‘Don’t call him,’ said a boy’s voice. I looked round to see Ulf beside me. He was looking up at me anxiously.

‘He don’t like to be disturbed when he’s working. He’s likely to clout you. I’ll take his food.’

Ulf showed me he already held two loaves of bread in one hand and a large chunk of whale meat in the other. I watched as he approached his father warily, putting the food on the ground near him, but taking care to stay back out of arm’s reach. Olvir spotted him and lunged at him with a furious roar. I cried out a warning, but Ulf didn’t need it: he’d already darted back out of the way. He kept the food between him and his father. On his way towards his son, Olvir saw the food and fell on it, tearing off great chunks of bread and meat with his teeth. He fed ferociously, eating a meal that would have sated two or three grown men in a few moments. Then he shouted in a hoarse voice for ale. I fetched a jug of ale rather than a horn, not wanting to have to hand it directly to him. The ale was downed in one thirsty draught, the jug cast aside, and Olvir attacked his work with renewed energy. It was frightening to watch.

Asgerd and Aud had followed me out of the house and stood watching as Olvir tore rocks out of the ground with his bare hands. ‘He’s a berserker,’ said Asgerd.

‘I see,’ I breathed, as the truth suddenly dawned on me. That was what I hadn’t been able to make sense of in his aura. The ability to go into battle rage. Or in this case, work rage. To fight or work with the strength of many men for a prolonged period. The Viking armies were famed and feared for their berserkers. No one could stand against them. I’d heard so many tales about berserkers, but never seen one.

This explained the danger I felt around Olvir even when he was quiet. He was unpredictable and unstable. His son knew it.

‘Shapeshifter too, I shouldn’t wonder,’ added Aud, silently mimicking a werewolf’s howl. ‘Isn’t that right, Ulf?’

Ulf turned a blank face to her. ‘Don’t know what you’re on about,’ he said, and went indoors to eat.

By late afternoon, Olvir had finished the pool and was already digging out the channel to divert the spring. Bjorn and the other men went out to begin the work of finding clay and splitting stones to line the pool. They kept their distance from Olvir who was gradually digging himself away up the hill. They all kept working after dark, lighting a fire to see by. I kept Ulf busy, showing him how to grind corn and feed the animals. He was sullen, but willing to learn.

By nightmeal, there was only a short stretch of ditch still to be dug. Olvir suddenly threw down his tools and stumbled down the hill towards the house. Everyone backed away from him as he entered the house. His berserker fit had left him, leaving him exhausted and weak. Now he was as pale as a ghost and trembling with the effort of standing upright.

Olvir sat down, dirty and sweat-drenched as he was, and called for food. Ulf brought him the generous portion of roasted whale meat that had been prepared for him. He seemed to be having trouble now even lifting the food to his mouth. Only halfway through his meal, he quivered and collapsed. I started forward, fearing that he had killed himself by working so hard. Ulf reassured me.

‘Just sleeping,’ he said. ‘Just cover him and leave him. He’s always like that when his rages have been on him. He’ll be all right by tomorrow.’

When the tables had been cleared and everyone was ready to sleep, Olvir still lay snoring on the bench where he had fallen. Everyone picked spaces as far as possible from him. Ragna had an attack of prudishness and sent the young girls and unmarried women up into the loft, including me. This, she told us, was where we would sleep from now on.

It was usual to separate out the young women in a household. It had been ignored up to now as we had been camping out. But having a strange man in the house had clearly reminded Ragna of her obligations. It shouldn’t have annoyed me to be up there with the slave girls as much as it did. It was Ragna’s smug face when she ordered the ladder removed that angered me most.

Slaughtering Month

Gormánu∂ur

I expected Ulf to make a scene when his father left. Olvir took him aside and had a long talk with him. It was a stern talk and Ulf listened with eyes downcast and a red face. And then Olvir embraced his son with surprising tenderness and led him back to me by the hand.

‘Stay with Thora, do as she bids you, and make me proud,’ he ordered Ulf. Then he took his leave of the rest of us and climbed into his boat. Ulf looked after him as long as the boat was in sight, bravely holding back his tears. I stood quietly beside him. When we finally went back to the house, Bjorn paused beside us and ruffled the boy’s hair.

‘This seems hard, Ulf,’ he said kindly, ‘but it’s usual in your situation to be fostered. You’ll grow accustomed. And your father will visit often, I’m sure. Not every child is that lucky.’ He smiled at us both and moved away.

I thought of Bjorn’s own background and knew that he spoke from the heart. I was sure Ulf would settle in well. My only concern was to shield him from Ragna, who clearly resented his presence in her household.

‘She needs children of her own,’ said Asgerd when I spoke to her about it. ‘But Bjorn won’t go near her, so that’s not likely. I’ll help keep Ulf away from her. I’ll tell Astrid to teach him to tend the animals.’

I looked across to where Bjorn was sitting talking with Erik and Thrang, and I wondered what it was that kept him so determined to stay away from his own wife. I could scarcely believe it could have anything to do with me. She was a pretty woman and eager to please him. It was surprising she hadn’t won him over yet.

The men finished the pool after Olvir’s departure and it worked as well as anyone could have dreamed. There was hot, fresh water waiting for us every time anyone wanted to bathe. We took it in turns; some nights the pool was for the men to wallow in, other nights were for women. The pool was so hot it almost scalded the skin, warming us right through to our bones. I could see it was going to be a wonderful thing in the depths of winter.

All the women except Ragna spent long happy days at the beginning of autumn gathering berries. We roamed far and wide, exploring the empty landscape with its windswept, sun-drenched hills. At first we took Ulf with us to keep Astrid company. He ate berries until his stomach gave out on him and I had to treat him with my precious herbs. After that, he stayed with the men and helped them where he could with their work. He gradually began to settle in with us, looking up to some of the men, avoiding others. I still saw the homesickness in his eyes from time to time but his hostility faded gradually.