9th Century
The winter months pass slowly. I spend my days observing – who goes where, who speaks to who, who outranks who – because there's not much else to do. Due to my pregnancy, I'm being allowed to do even less than I was before the news got out. Gudry and Anja accompany me almost everywhere, constantly trying to get me to eat and admonishing me if I so much as dare to pick up a piece of firewood. Hildy keeps a beady eye on me, too, and if I'm seen to be doing anything she considers out of the ordinary, I know I can count on Eirik bringing it up later that night, after she's tattled to him. Thankfully, he's usually got a smile on his face when he does.
The taking of villages continues, but Eirik doesn't lose any more men – the death of Asgald weighs heavy on him and he's more careful, less confident that the peasants are entirely without the will or the means to defend themselves. My pregnancy is obvious now, undeniable even to myself as my belly swells with Eirik's child.
It's sometime in what might be April, perhaps May, just as the teasing warmth that's come and gone for the past few weeks feels as if it's beginning to settle more permanently over the camp and the gentle, rolling hills and woods surrounding it. It's daytime and I'm bored, having just spent the last two hours in the bathing roundhouse, letting Gudry and Anja dangle various charms and objects over my midsection, trying to divine the sex of the baby. The results of their experiments have been inconclusive and I'm itching to get out for a walk, maybe even outside the camp. But when I get to the eastern point where the palisades stop, intending to slip out and gather wildflowers to put in Eirik's roundhouse, I hear the commotion of men coming from the direction of the beach.
"The warriors!" Gudry shrieks, her eyes lighting up. "They're back early! Let's go and meet them, shall we?"
I grin. Gudry is unmarried, but has recently begun a dalliance with one of the Jarl's men, and she's as effusive and over-excitable as a schoolgirl. Anja reaches out and grabs her wrist, though, before she can tear off down to the beach and throw her arms around her returning warrior.
"Get a hold of yourself, girl," she snaps at her companion and Gudry's head drops, even as she sneaks a look up at me and smiles, still. "Stop flinging yourself at him in this way – don't you know a man needs to feel a challenge? No, we'll wait right here for them, and you will be containing that ridiculous, pig-like squealing."
So we wait, just outside the camp, with a few other people who have happened, like us, to be there at the right time. Anja's words have had no effect, though, because the minute Gudry spots her boyfriend she's rushing towards him, throwing her arms around his neck and covering him with enthusiastic kisses. He lifts his head, grinning sheepishly under Gudry's loving assault.
Anja rolls her eyes. "She'll have a baby in her belly soon, and then she'll be even more useless than she is now!"
"Oh she's fine," I say, intending to defend Gudry to her constantly aggrieved companion, to say something about how she manages to do her work in the end, even if she pauses a lot to giggle and gossip. But before anything else can come out of my mouth my eyes lock onto the line of captives being led up the path from the beach by Veigar. I take a step forward, my heart suddenly in my throat at the site of that flaxen head, bent low.
"Is that –?" I start, before remembering that I am the Jarl's wife-to-be now, as well as the future mother of his child, and I no longer have to ask permission to do almost anything. I step forward into the chain of prisoners, grabbing the wrist of the woman who has caught my eye. Briefly I spot a bedraggled clump of children behind her but then she looks up and I'm pressing my hands to my face, sobbing.
"Willa," I weep, as her eyes widen in recognition and she clings to me. "Oh my God, Willa. I thought you were – I thought you –"
But we can't talk, because our voices are breaking. People around us are staring but we hold on to each other tightly. When Veigar approaches I lean in and whisper in Willa's ear.
"I'll come see you. Soon. Tonight! I can help. Where is –"
But Veigar jerks her away and smirks at me. "Get back, woman, these are the Jarl's prisoners, not yours."
"Stop!" I shout, before he can drag my friend off. "I want to talk to her!"
Veigar leans in, although I notice he doesn't lean as close as he could. "Have you gone deaf, idiot? These are not your prisoners, it's not for you to –"
"LET HER GO!" I bellow as he digs his fingers hard enough into Willa's flesh to make her yell.
Veigar responds by shoving Willa roughly aside and coming at me. I stand my ground, meeting his eyes, daring him to do something that's going to piss Eirik off. And fortunately I'm not made to pay for my recklessness because Eirik is suddenly between us, staring at Veigar like he thinks he's lost his mind. Instantly, the big lummox's body language changes and he goes from tough guy to naughty toddler.
"I'm trying to get the captives to their quarters, Jarl," he says, angrily gesturing at me. "And this mad-woman of yours is getting in the way, as usual. Tell her to let me do my job and I'll cause no more trouble to you."
Eirik, who has an expression on his face that tells me – and, I think, Veigar himself – that Veigar has just come very close to doing something he would have been made to pay for, turns to me, expertly defusing the situation. "Is it so, girl? Are you getting in Veigar's way? Why are you even out here? Anja – why is she –"
"She wanted to pick flowers, Jarl. For your table. We had no idea you would be returning early. Here, lady, take my arm, we'll go back to the bathing house and –"
"No," I reply, staying where I am.
Eirik turns to me sharply. "What craziness have you got inside you now, girl? What is this about?"
By now, I know there are two Eiriks. There's off-duty Eirik and on-duty Eirik. Neither one is a jerk, but when he's busy being a leader – rather than a husband- and father-to-be – he's focused entirely on that. I know he's got things to do now, after what looks to have been another successful raid, and I know he doesn't have time to listen to any lengthy explanations from me. So I keep it short.
"This is my friend," I say, gesturing at Willa and glaring angrily at Veigar. "Please ask this pig to keep his hands off her. I also wonder, my Jarl, if I might be allowed to take her with me, now, to the bathing roundhouse. She's dirty and –"
"They're all dirty, girl," Eirik shoots back, and I can hear the impatience in his voice. Veigar chuckles, just quietly enough so that Eirik doesn't hear it.
"Please," I whisper, lowering my head respectfully so no one witnessing the scene will have cause to think their Jarl is being henpecked by his crazy Angle.
Eirik looks at me, then at Veigar, and then at his man Gunnar, who has replaced Asgald in the inner circle. Then he looks back at me again and finally shrugs. "Fine. Take her. Anja – you and Gudry help this one to get cleaned up. I'll see you tonight, my love."
He looks right at me and emphasizes the 'you' and I can't quite tell if he's being good-humored or if I've genuinely annoyed him. Not that it matters right now. Right now, I need to get Willa away from the smirking – although happily somewhat humbled – thug standing over her.
"Come," I say, taking her hand and helping her up.
"Wait!" She cries. "My children!"
We all turn to the filthy little waifs standing silently behind their mother – how many of them are there? Three? Good Lord. Eirik speaks before I even have time to entreat him to let the kids come with us.
"No, girl. They'll be taken with the other children and fed, there's nothing to fret about. Take her, clean her up, Hildy will take care of all the little ones."
Eirik does not understand that telling me Hildy will be 'taking care' of the children engenders absolutely no confidence in me, but there's nothing else to do about it. I look at Willa. "Come. You heard him – they'll be fed."
She doesn't want to come with me, and she makes a weak attempt at stopping it as one of the other men usher the children along with the rest of the captives, into the camp.
"I'm to be his wife," I whisper, leaning in close to my exhausted-looking childhood friend. "He is trustworthy, don't worry, they'll be fed."
"And they'll be kept here?"
"Yes," I nod. "We'll take care of you and then we can see to them. Alright?"
I get the strong feeling that Willa wouldn't even be close to agreeing to such a separation if she didn't perfectly understand the situation – i.e. if she didn't understand that she has no say in any of it, anyway. She takes the arm I offer her. Veigar lunges at her one last time as we walk away, like the overgrown child he is, and Anja laughs out loud at him, which makes me laugh, too.
I can't be as free with my conversation as I would like, as we make our way to the bathing roundhouse, although from the look of Willa, whose eyes are falling closed even as she remains on her feet, I'm not sure it would be any use to ask questions.
When we arrive I instruct the two women to warm a bath for my friend and they do, although both of them wear irritated little grimaces on their faces throughout.
"You can leave, if you like," I tell them, annoyed. "I can do this myself."
"We can't leave," Anja replies coolly. "The Jarl asked us to stay with you."
"Fine then," I snap. "I don't know why you two have bugs up your butts about this – you have to bathe me every damn day!"
Anja narrows her eyes at me, aware I'm being short with her, but not aware, specifically, of what it means to have a 'bug' up her 'butt.'
It's amazing how much of a pain in the ass a person can be, even as they technically do their work. Both of them move slowly and resentfully, wrinkling their noses at Willa's stench and making faces like helping to clean her up is the worst task they have ever been asked to participate in.
"Oh my God!" I shout, about twenty minutes into something that should have taken five, at most. "Give me the cloth, I'll do it myself!"
Instead of waiting to be handed the cloth I just snatch it out of Anja's hand. Willa is in the tub of warm water, half-asleep, her head lolling back on the edge. She jerks awake again at the sound of my angry voice. Anja moves to snatch the washcloth back from me and I hold it away, eyeballing her.
"Go get Hildy if you like, but I'm going to do this myself. If you don't like it, take it up with her – or the Jarl!"
At that, Anja abruptly stands up, announces that she's going to do just that, and flounces out.
"Lady!" Gudry moans, as Anja's stomping footsteps fade. "Now Hildy is going to be angry! Now we're going to catch a whipping!"
"You're not going to catch anything," I tell her. "Just stop being such a pain and help me with this, will you? Don't worry, girl, I won't let Hildy touch you."
Gudry edges forward and we set to work on Willa's scraggly hair, so unkempt it's twisted itself into knots.
"This is going to take forever," Gudry sighs.
But it doesn't take forever. It only takes a couple of hours. I help Willa out of the bath, the water of which is now as dark as the earthen floor, and help her to lift a tunic over her head. She's even thinner than I remember, each rib painfully visible when she raises her arms, even from the back.
"What's happened to you?" I whisper, aching with guilt. My friends used to count on me for food, they used to be chubbier than the other kids in Caistley, and it was down to me. Now Willa is thin again, almost shrunken, and she looks far older than her 25 years.
She shrugs. "Nothing. Babies. I've had a little one on my breast now for longer than I can remember – they suck the life out of you. I see you're about to have the same."
I look down at my belly with Willa and she reaches out, running one bony hand over my almost shameful roundness.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so sorry, Willa. I didn't mean to leave like–"
"WHAT'S ALL THIS?!"
Hildy barges in, hands on hips, and stares me down. I stand up, putting myself between her and Willa.
"The Jarl said I could take her to get cleaned up," I say calmly. "That's 'all this.' She's very tired now and we need to find a grass bed so she can sleep."
The Jarl and I sleep on furs, but almost everybody else in the camp sleeps on what to me look more like body pillows than beds – long sacks stuffed with dried grasses and only changed once a year, in the springtime. I wasn't sure if Willa even had a grass bed, back in Caistley.
Hildy raises one eyebrow at me. "Your Jarl said you could clean her up, girl, but make no mistake – she's a captive, and I'll be taking her with me, now."
She moves to step around me and I move in the same direction, blocking her from getting close to Willa.
"Girl!" She barks. "Get out of the way!"
I know she isn't going to hit me – she can't, not with my pregnant belly and my place at the Jarl's side – and that makes me braver than normal. Willa makes me braver, too. I've already let her and Eadgar down once, I'm not about to do it again.
Instead of hitting me, Hildy snatches a handful of my hair in one of her fat hands and I scream, enraged, and kick out at her. She dodges out of the way and I kick out again, lashing out with my fists now. We scrap like that for a good minute or more, until Hildy suddenly sees something I don't and immediately drops her arms to her sides. I take my chance and shove her, hard enough to almost send her flying, and then feel a firm, familiar grip on my upper arm.
"Voss! What is happening here?!"
It's Eirik and his eyes are flashing with real anger. I step away from Hildy quickly, and nobody looks him in the eye.
"What is this?" He demands again, jerking my arm a little. It's not painful, not enough to even leave a temporary mark, but suddenly – and for the first time with my Jarl – I see red. I yank my arm out of his grip and because he's not expecting it, it works. Then I jump away as he tries to grab me again.
"Stop it!" I shout at him as everyone – including Hildy – shrinks away, shocked. I don't shrink away, though. Nor do I avert my eyes. Those I turn up to him, meeting his gaze directly. "Why are you shouting at me?" I demand, not waiting for an answer. "I told you this woman is my friend – it's not a lie, Jarl! She is my friend, a true friend. Why do you stand there looking like you want to kill me? Would you not do the same, for a friend? If someone came to hurt Gunnar, or Veigar – or me? Wouldn't you try to stop them?"
I stop, panting with emotion, but seeing the looks on everyone's faces – Willa, Gudry, Hildy – just underlines that I'm breaking a very serious rule right now and that just makes me even angrier. "You want me to do this?!" I demand, gesturing at Hildy. "Is that what you want of a wife? You want me to cower away from you? What would you think of a man who did the same, Eirik? What would you think if somebody came to take Veigar and you were too scared to try to stop him? If you understand why that would be impossible for you, then you understand why it is impossible for me!"
My voice rises on the last sentence – I'm really yelling at him, my chest tight with rage.
We stare at each other, the Jarl and I, me poised defensively, more than ready to come to Willa's aid should anyone wish to try me. I know I won't win – not even against Hildy – but if he thinks that means I'm just going to let her be dragged off into –
"Fine, girl."
I frown. "What?"
Eirik shrugs and lets out a very long sigh. "Take her to the roundhouse, I'll have Hildy bring her some bread and ham."
Hildy lets out an indignant snort but one glance from the Jarl and she's quiet again.
"Do you mean it?" I ask, worried some kind of trick is being played on me, or some sort of test being run. "You're not –"
"Girl, I have forty new captives, more pigs and grain and ale and my men are tired and – if you can believe this – even grumpier than you. I don't have time for this." He nods at Hildy. "Take them to my roundhouse. Bring them bread and ham. And bring some of the tincture for this one, here."
"Shall I stay with them, Jarl, when –"
"No, there's no need, one of my men will be on guard."
I resist the urge to smirk directly at Hildy, who is visibly pissed off now that her plan to thwart me has itself been thwarted – and by the one person she can't just smack around. The mention of the tincture, a foul brew of various plants and herbs that is meant to calm a person who is nervous or hysterical, is horrifically patronizing – but just as the Jarl is going to deal with me later, I, too, am going to deal with him.