Daughter of Fire and Ice (25 page)

Her words caused another jolt of fear in my stomach, but I quelled my anxiety. I trusted Bjorn’s quiet confidence.

The world didn’t end that night. But in the hours of darkness, the red glow persisted. In the short daylight spell, we could see a tall column of smoke rising into the pale sky in the far distance. Helgi came to speak to Bjorn the next morning, but he understood it as little as we did.

‘Perhaps there are huge forests burning inland,’ Erik suggested.

‘In the winter?’ scoffed Grim.

‘You have a better idea?’ demanded Erik.

No one had a better idea.

The days passed and no worse disasters befell us other than a light fall of ash on top of the snow. It seemed to come from the sky, and Bjorn said it confirmed his theory of a forest fire.

The mystery soon faded from our minds, replaced by a problem nearly as serious as Ragnarok itself. Our food finally ran out.

The sheep had been duly slaughtered and the brains shared. They had healed sore gums and skin rashes. Then we had cooked and eaten every scrap of meat, stewing the bones for stock long after they had ceased to have any flavour at all. Now all we had left was a little butter.

Thrang took the ship and several men, including Stein, and rowed across to consult with Olvir. I walked down to the shore and watched them go just before dawn. It was a still morning, and the sea was sluggish with large chunks of ice obstructing the oars and slowing the ship.

‘I hope Olvir can help,’ murmured Asgerd, standing beside me, watching her husband as the ship disappeared into the semi-darkness.

‘He chose to live over there,’ I said, ‘because the fishing is better on that side of the bay. So perhaps he can direct them to the likely spots. He had caught fresh fish at Yule, remember?’

I spoke more hopefully than I felt. My belly was empty and crying out for food, my limbs heavy. It was impossible to stay warm and my head ached constantly. If Thrang didn’t return with a catch, we would have to start eating our animals or our seed. And that would endanger our future.

‘I wish we could eat hay, like the animals,’ sighed Asgerd.

‘We’ll soon run out of that too,’ I said seriously.

Bjorn was waiting for me below the house, and asked me to accompany him to Helgi’s. I agreed and fell into step beside him without returning to the house. Ragna would be furious later, but I didn’t have the energy to care.

‘I’m praying for the success of the fishing trip,’ Bjorn said once we were out of earshot of the house. ‘I don’t know how we’ll survive otherwise.’

‘Thrang says there will be seabirds by Harpa month,’ I said quietly. ‘Clouds of them, nesting so the cliffs are white with them. There’ll be eggs.’

My stomach growled as I thought of eggs. Bjorn sighed.

‘Two months,’ he said. ‘Can we last that long?’

‘We have to,’ I replied. I wanted him to reassure me as he did everyone else. But I realized he was trusting me with his true concerns, certain I wouldn’t panic.

‘Are you planning to ask Helgi for help?’ I asked hesitantly.

‘It’s unlikely he has any food spare to trade. But I shall ask anyway. I also want to suggest a trip south as soon as the seed is sown. We need to know what that fire was and to see if there is timber and fertile ground inland.’

Helgi had no food to trade. I checked his people over and found no winter sickness. But there was hunger. They had been forced to ration their supplies as we had done. Baby Ingvar was thriving, but his mother had grown thin with the effort of feeding him.

‘Next year, once the harvest is in,’ said Helgi cheerfully, ‘we will have enough food to feast the entire winter away.’

We all smiled, and hoped he was right, though we could scarcely imagine it.

Bjorn and I stayed to share a small bowl of skyr with our friends and then made our way home through the gathering darkness. The wind was keen and the air damp. Bjorn carried two large dried fish on a string. A gift from Helgi. They would stave off the worst hunger pangs, soaked and stewed.

As we approached our farm we could see that Thrang hadn’t yet returned with the ship.

‘Tomorrow,’ said Bjorn optimistically. ‘He’ll be back tomorrow.’

Last Month of Winter

Einmanudur

It was three days before the fishermen returned, but we were well rewarded for our long wait. I’d never suffered such hunger, not even when Svanson had been persecuting my family. But Thrang and the other men had filled the fishing net several times over and packed the catch in ice they had taken out of the sea. We all shouted with excitement as we saw what they had brought.

‘Olvir knew the best places, all right,’ said Thrang jovially. ‘It was dangerous work in the dark, and bitterly cold, but this will keep hunger at bay.’

We roasted fresh fish on sticks over the fire, burning our fingers and our mouths in our hurry to eat. Nothing had ever tasted so good.

‘This is like feasting in Valhalla,’ sighed Thrang once his first hunger was sated. ‘An eternal banquet with the fallen heroes and Odin himself presiding.’

‘It’ll be even better next year,’ Bjorn promised. ‘Then we’ll have meat, grain and all manner of good farm produce.’

‘It looks like we picked the wrong year to winter here, Stein!’ said Thrang, good humouredly, nudging his com panion. The conversation died.

‘You’re not leaving us?’ asked Ragna sharply.

‘Just as soon as I can get a passage,’ said Thrang, with a meaningful glance at me. ‘Once the ships start sailing again in spring.’

There was a long silence. Thrang was a tower of strength and a hard worker. Stein was a quiet young man, but respected by the other men and always worked well. Everyone would miss them both.

I wondered if Thrang was still hoping that I’d accompany him when he left. I had thought about his proposal but without coming to any decision. I couldn’t imagine this long, dark winter ever ending. It seemed to go on for ever, stretching into the future, unchanging. Darkness, cold, and hunger.

‘Olvir sends you his love, Thora,’ called Erik from the other side of the fire, interrupting my train of thought. ‘He says he’ll be over to fetch his bride as soon as the spring comes!’

There was a roar of merry laughter. I shook my head slightly and could feel myself blushing.

‘If I could eat like this every day, maybe it would be a good bargain,’ I said, trying to join the merriment.

I noticed several people weren’t laughing. Thrang watched me from under his bushy brows, a heavy frown on his face. Bjorn looked serious and Ragna was looking hopeful.

‘I don’t think you should marry him and leave us,’ said Jon, a gangly lad of about sixteen winters. His face turned fiery red as he spoke. ‘We’d all miss you,’ he mumbled, looking down at his plate, overcome that he had spoken out of turn.

‘Thora, you have another admirer!’ roared Vali, slapping Jon on the back and laughing. Jon turned a deeper shade of red. ‘Come on, you brave warriors,’ Vali called. ‘Who else would like to offer for the fair Thora? Hands up!’

I fled the house without looking to see if any hands went up. I knew it was only good-natured teasing, but it was too much for me. My own heart was sore and bruised, and the subject of the jest was too painful. I stood in the darkness, soon shivering with cold, breathing the fresh, salty air.

The door opened again behind me and Asgerd emerged. She was wearing her cloak, mine lay over her arm.

‘You’ll freeze,’ she said gently, wrapping the cloak around me. After a pause, she added: ‘They don’t mean any harm, you know.’

‘I know,’ I said, a little breathlessly.

She put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a little shake.

‘I’m sorry Erik started it. I’ll speak to him later.’ She paused and then added: ‘The household is unbalanced. More young men than women. And you are so very young and beautiful, you’re bound to turn their heads.’

I shook my head, perplexed.

‘You must be mistaken,’ I told her. ‘I’m not beautiful. That’s not why … ’

Asgerd chuckled. ‘You can’t see yourself, my dear. The rest of us see it quite plainly. It’s not just in your features either, though they are pretty enough. You glow, somehow. With strength and peace.’

‘Please … ’ I held up one hand, trying to fend off her words.

‘I know, you don’t want to hear it,’ said Asgerd. ‘But whatever you do, don’t throw yourself away on Olvir the Werewolf.’

‘I have no intention of doing so,’ I told her. ‘But please don’t call him that. We have no proof he’s a werewolf and it might upset Ulf.’

‘All right, I won’t,’ she agreed peaceably. ‘Let’s talk about something else. Are you going to accept Thrang?’

I turned to her, startled. I couldn’t make out her expression in the darkness.

‘How did you … ?’

‘Erik overheard your conversation—quite by mistake,’ Asgerd explained. ‘I don’t think he’s the right man for you either. But better by far than Olvir.’

I nodded. I wanted to explain to her what a danger I was here. A barrier to any chance of Bjorn and Ragna finding happiness together. I wanted to tell her I knew I should go. But I couldn’t bring myself to think of Thrang as a husband or of leaving Bjorn. The words wouldn’t come and I stood in silence, grateful for her company.

We salted some of the fish and dried the rest. Bjorn and Thrang took a barrel of fish across to Helgi as thanks for the dried fish he had given us. I looked at what was left and calculated we had food enough to eat well for four or five days, or meagrely for twice as many. They would need to go out again very soon.

I tended the cuts, bruises, and frost damage the men had sustained fishing. Thrang had a nasty gash in his arm.

‘It’s not infected,’ I told him. ‘The salt water probably kept it clean. It should heal well.’ I smeared some paste onto the cut as I spoke and then began to bandage his arm.

‘Thank you,’ said Thrang. He laid one hand over mine. ‘Thora, have you … thought any more about … what I said?’

‘I have,’ I admitted nervously, withdrawing my hand, dreading this conversation. I had no idea what to say to him, and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

‘And what is your answer? Will you have me?’ he asked anxiously.

‘I haven’t been able to make up my mind,’ I told him truthfully, hanging my head. ‘I’m sorry, I … ’

Thrang took my hand in his and held it firmly. ‘There is nothing for you here,’ he said in a low voice.

‘I know,’ I agreed sadly.

‘You have time to decide,’ said Thrang, releasing me.

With each day that passed there was more daylight. The day the sun first appeared above the horizon, there was great rejoicing. Soon, on clear days, we could feel its feeble winter rays warming us. The snow began to melt.

Thrang set off on another fishing expedition. His absence gave me a chance to breathe freely and to think about my future without feeling his eyes on me constantly. I was almost certain I would refuse him, but I questioned my decision. I knew I should leave with him, but I didn’t want to. I had had no visions since my illness and some days I feared they might have left me for good. I prayed to Freya to send me some guidance for my decision, but she didn’t choose to answer.

And as the snow cleared, I hunted for the last of the crowberries, withered and tasteless from their winter under the snow, but edible still. A small handful each over several days and the last traces of winter sickness left us. Next winter, we would preserve berries for the winter in the skyr, and there would be no sore gums. I could feel confident about this. One of our heifers was in calf. Soon she would give birth and there would be milk all summer.

Bjorn and Grim were busy almost every day in the forge. They were using our precious stock of iron to make weapons. This bothered me no end. I didn’t want to believe that Svanson’s kin would come seeking revenge. I wished I could think we would be left in peace to farm and prosper. We had no reason to believe that our theft and deception had been discovered, but I remembered Arn, and knew he might make mischief for us. He must resent Bjorn bitterly, and feel he owed him a grudge.

The ringing of hammer on anvil continued. The men began to practise with real swords and then with bows and arrows. I glanced at them anxiously every time I left the house, a sick feeling in my stomach. Perhaps we really might need to defend ourselves.

* * *

Our minds were taken off weapons when Thrang returned. The catch this time was smaller, and the boat had been damaged on a treacherous rock. Bjorn joined him to look at how they could repair it while Asgerd, Asdis, Ragna, and I began to cook the breakfast.

‘We’ve eaten well enough with Olvir,’ said Erik. ‘He’s a generous host. Give yourselves the larger portions.’

He put an arm around Asgerd’s waist as he spoke, pulling her close for a moment. ‘You are getting thin,’ I heard him whisper sadly. ‘And so is our daughter.’

We sat down thankfully to the meal, looking forward to eating our fill at least once while the fish was fresh and good. Like last time, everyone’s spirits soared temporarily. Ragna had brought out one last barrel of mead that had been hidden away and was rationing everyone very carefully so that there would be more for another day.

‘Olvir says that if we’ll help him in summer, there’s a possibility of hunting a minky whale,’ Erik said over supper. ‘They’re the smallest of the whales here, but still too big for one man to hunt alone.’

Bjorn looked interested. ‘That would be good. The oil would be excellent for trading.’

‘If any trading ships venture as far as this godforsaken bay,’ muttered Ragna into her goblet. I was just close enough to catch what she said, though most didn’t. Bjorn took no notice of her dark words, but continued to talk and laugh with Thrang and Erik. Absently, I picked up my goblet, tested it against my lip as always and then sipped. It sent fire into my veins, warming me right through.

‘Hey, that was my goblet,’ said Asgerd laughing. ‘I’ll have to have yours!’ She reached over me to pick up a goblet I hadn’t noticed. ‘Hands off my wine!’