Daughter of Fire and Ice (26 page)

‘I’m sorry,’ I said confused.

‘No, I’m sure that one was mine,’ argued Vali on the other side of me. He grinned and leaned across me to try and snatch the goblet from her hands. Asgerd laughed and slapped his hands away. ‘You’ve had yours!’ she cried. ‘Don’t steal mine to get extra.’

‘No, really, it’s mine,’ he said with a laugh and succeeded in snatching it away. A little of the mead spilled on the table in front of me, but the rest he poured down his throat, smiling at the indignant cries of Asgerd, and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

‘You didn’t even taste it,’ scoffed Asgerd. ‘What a waste.’

She reached for his cup instead, glancing at him, clearly half expecting to continue the game and claim that was his too.

But he said nothing. I glanced at him, a sudden fear crossing my mind. Vali clutched his throat, a look of surprise and pain on his face.

‘It burns,’ he gasped.

My heart lurched in horror. Swiftly, I dipped one finger in the spilled liquid and touched it to my lip.

Aconite.

I grabbed his arm as his body lurched forward.

‘Help me,’ he gasped.

‘I will,’ I said, laying a hand on his forehead to reassure him, but I knew it was already too late.

All talk had stopped around us, everyone’s eyes riveted on the unfortunate man. He convulsed violently, crashing backwards off the bench. Thrang and Grim rushed to help him, catching his weight and laying him on a sheepskin while he twisted and writhed. His eyes rolled back into his head. His colours were fading so fast I could see it happening.

‘Thora, do something,’ cried Thrang.

‘What’s going on?’ I heard Ulf’s frightened voice in the background.

I didn’t speak, holding Vali tightly, keeping my eyes on his terrified, agonized face.

Vali convulsed one more time, shuddered and went quite limp. He was blue around the lips, his eyes unseeing. I didn’t need to lay my hand on the side of his neck, feeling for the throb of his blood through his veins, but I did it anyway. There was nothing.

‘He’s dead,’ I said, forcing myself to speak calmly. ‘There was nothing I could do.’ As I spoke, the first tears ran down my face. Just a few moments ago, Vali had been full of energy and laughter. None of that remained; only the horror of his death. Who had done this dreadful deed? I leaned over him, whispered a prayer to the goddess Eir and gently closed his lids over his eyes.

‘What happened?’ asked Asgerd, her voice hoarse with shock.

‘He’s been poisoned,’ I said, my voice carrying right across the hall. ‘Please, everybody, test your mead before you drink it. Rub a little on your lip. If it burns, it isn’t safe.’

I could feel myself beginning to shake now, as the shock of what had happened reached me. ‘Someone has killed Vali,’ I said aloud. ‘Why?’ I could feel anger surfacing beside my grief now. ‘Who can live among us and commit murder? The sneaking, sly killings of the assassin?’

I couldn’t think straight. Had Vali been the intended victim or not? I had no idea.

There were cries of distress at my words. Everyone pushed their goblets from them. Asdis began to sob quietly. Among the men there were raised voices.

Ragna pushed herself to her feet with difficulty and stood, leaning on the table.

‘Fine words from you, Thora. How do you know he’s been poisoned?’ she demanded sharply.

I caught my breath. This was dangerous ground.

‘I recognize the symptoms,’ I told her, aware that everyone was listening. ‘It’s aconite. It’s deadly poison.’

‘Aco what?’ asked Grim. He sounded angry.

‘Russian aconite,’ I explained, controlling the tremble that wanted to make my voice wobble. ‘It’s a root sometimes used to treat diseases of the heart … but deadly in large doses.’

‘Who would have that?’ Grim’s voice was hard. ‘I’ve never even heard of it.’ He looked around as he spoke and everywhere I looked heads were shaken.

‘Thora would have such a thing.’ Ragna’s voice again. She sounded triumphant. Was I the only one who noticed? Of course, whether or not she was the poisoner, she’d be glad to see me blamed.

‘Thora?’ asked Thrang. He was staring at me as though he was seeing me properly for the first time. As though he didn’t like what he saw.

‘Yes,’ I admitted. ‘I had this root. It was locked in my chest. But someone got hold of the key and stole the root.’

‘So why did you tell no one?’ demanded Ragna swiftly.

‘I knew,’ said Bjorn. ‘Thora spoke to me about it.’

‘Ha!’ A mirthless laugh from Ragna. She sat down without saying anything else. She didn’t need to say more. I could feel the heat of half a dozen pairs of suspicious eyes on me. Some were confused, not knowing what or who to believe. Everyone was frightened and that made them less rational.

‘Why would I want to kill Vali?’ I asked them. ‘I nursed him through the fever barely two months ago.’

‘Because he made fun of you,’ said Ragna. ‘About your marriage.’

‘Thora wouldn’t hurt anyone!’ exclaimed young Jon. His youthful face shone pink with indignation on my behalf. ‘She nursed us all when we had the fever.’

‘No one ever nursed me with such care as Thora did,’ put in Asgerd. ‘It was my cup that was poisoned. My cup that Vali drank from. It can’t have been Thora.’

‘Not everyone recovered from the fever,’ said Ragna darkly, speaking over Asgerd. ‘And what about peppering my father’s wound? That was misusing her skills.’

There was a quiet murmur around us. How many people believed Ragna and how many trusted me? It was impossible to guess. How could any of them turn on me after I had cared for them all winter?

‘Enough of this,’ said Bjorn standing up. ‘None of us suspect Thora. She told me of this theft some time ago, and it was on my advice she kept it quiet.’

‘Clever of her,’ muttered Ragna.

I felt as though I had swallowed ice. I had worked so hard to help every person here and yet they could be turned against me so easily.

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ demanded Thrang.

‘I didn’t wish to frighten anyone. I never dreamed we had a killer among us,’ answered Bjorn. His face was drawn and serious. ‘But it seems we can’t trust one another. Thrang, Stein, Erik, and I will now search the house including everyone’s possessions. All of you stay here meanwhile, please.’

We all sat, still and shocked, around the fire. I was acutely aware of Vali’s body lying untended behind me. While everyone’s clothes, weapons, and bedding were shaken and searched, I sat quite still, looking from face to face. Who could be guilty? Surely they would betray themselves? But every face and every aura betrayed shock, distress, and fear. Some of the women were weeping. It was impossible to guess who the murderer was. Not my friend Asgerd. I couldn’t believe it. Nor gentle Asdis. And Ragna couldn’t have climbed the ladder … My mind circled the same people over and over, making no progress.

Bjorn returned to the high table, the search over. They’d found nothing. The root had been well hidden.

Harpa Month

The last month of winter passed by but fear and suspicion cast its dark shadow over the coming of spring. The dread of another poisoning leeched the lustre out of the long, glorious days. Our community grew mistrustful, everyone testing their food and drink and watching one another.

It should have been a joyful time. The sea birds arrived in their thousands and nested in the cliffs. The noise they made reached everywhere. The men climbed the cliffs and collected blue guillemot eggs. Eating the eggs made us strong again, as did the longer days and the warmth that was now in the sun. The grass grew green and the animals all went out to pasture. They went out thin and dull-eyed and within a few days they were filling out and playful once more.

I felt anything but playful. No one said anything openly to me, but I felt I was blamed. Perhaps not for Vali’s death itself, but for keeping the theft of the root a secret. Fewer people came to me for cures and one or two of the men avoided me. My brief spell of contentment was over. Even Thrang, once so protective and attentive, was cool with me.

I spent long hours outdoors watching the spring plants grow and combing the sea shore for useful plants. I sometimes found sea rocket drifting along the shore and collected it. Bera had told me to look out for it. It was a fleshy, tasteless vegetable that grew on the shore but it was edible. No one liked it, but we all ate it. It would be months until the harvest was in.

The men ploughed the new ground. It was hard work to break land that had never been farmed. The topsoil was thin and stony. They worked hard, ploughing in the animal manure we had collected through the winter. They sowed a huge barley field and a smaller rye field. Bjorn oversaw everything, working harder than anyone.

‘Thora,’ he said to me one day as I returned to the house with two moss campion roots we could stew for nightmeal, ‘I have a message for you.’

I paused, waiting for him to hand his tools to Grim. He was hot and grimy from a hard day’s work. The sun had already tanned his face golden, but he looked thin still, and strained with hunger and worry.

As he came to walk beside me, he smiled and his face lit with warmth and kindness. ‘Bera would like to see you when you can spare the time,’ he said. ‘It’s about the baby.’

I nodded. ‘I’ll go tomorrow,’ I promised him.

Ingvar was teething and fretful again. His cheeks were flushed red and his nose was running. I rubbed a little clove oil onto his gums.

Bera hushed him in her arms.

‘I’ve heard the slaves gossiping,’ she told me. ‘I want you to know that I don’t believe for one moment that you’re to blame.’

‘Some do,’ I said in a low voice. Her outspoken confidence had caused a sudden turmoil of gratitude and distress inside me.

‘Don’t tell me Bjorn suspects you?’ demanded Bera at once.

‘No,’ I agreed quickly. ‘He never makes me feel that he does. But the others … a few of the men especially. And Ragna of course.’

‘They’re all ignorant and stupid,’ Bera dismissed them swiftly with a wave of her free hand.

‘And yet someone knows aconite root when they see it. A most rare plant. Even more rare than this clove oil, which I bought from the same trader. One among us, other than me, understands both healing and poisons.’

Bera leaned forward, her eyes suddenly keen, her attention caught.

‘You say there is another healer among you?’ she said.

‘Almost certainly.’

‘Then the poisoner is a woman. It must be.’

‘I have heard of male healers in other lands,’ I said hesitantly. ‘But I know of no one of Norse blood who would share the goddess’s secrets with a man. Besides, there were only women in the house when the root was stolen.’

‘So there can be no doubt,’ said Bera. ‘You are not many women in your house. That narrows the field.’

‘Asgerd, Asdis, Ragna, Vigdis, and Hild and Enys,’ I listed the women of our house. ‘And me,’ I added. ‘Astrid doesn’t count.’

‘Do you suspect anyone?’

I shook my head mutely. ‘All of them were in the house when the root was taken. But none of them was alone there.’

‘So they suspect you?’ Bera’s voice was scornful.

‘A few do perhaps. I think they mainly blame me for not telling them at once about the theft. That could have saved Vali’s life. And there’s another thing.’

Hesitantly, I recounted the tale of how I came to pepper the chieftain’s wound on the Faeroes. I was ashamed to make such a confession. I omitted to mention the hope I had had of wedding Bjorn myself, describing instead the murder of Kai and the robbery of our ship.

‘It seemed a trivial action at the time,’ I admitted. ‘But I broke my vow to the goddess. I abused the knowledge she has shared with me and used it for harm.’

‘You can hardly compare such a small incident with murder by poison,’ objected Bera.

‘It is a principle. Healing is never to be used to harm or for revenge.’

‘Well, I can quite see why you were tempted,’ said Bera, tossing her head. ‘And I’m sure most of the others can too. You’re blaming yourself far more than the others are blaming you, if you ask me.’ She had a sharp, decisive way of talking that appealed to me. ‘You were tricked and held to ransom, one of your men was killed and you had that she-dog foisted onto your household. How can you even speak of trust and vows after that?’

Her description of Ragna made me want to laugh. The corners of my mouth twitched and I turned my face away hurriedly to hide it. Bera was always so polite to Ragna. I had had no idea she disliked her.

‘I think we should have Ragna for the villain,’ Bera insisted.

I smiled faintly. But I shook my head too.

‘Impossible,’ I said. ‘She is the one person who couldn’t have climbed into the loft.’

As we talked the matter over, I became aware what a comfort it was to have someone to confide in, to know that someone besides Bjorn believed in me.

To my surprise, Bjorn arrived to collect me before nightmeal. He lingered awhile in close conversation with Helgi and then we set off together through the glowing spring evening.

‘What were you discussing so earnestly?’ I asked him as we walked.

‘I want to take a trip south to explore the land,’ Bjorn reminded me. ‘It’ll have to wait until after lamb-fold time. But we need to know something about the country we live in. I want to know what caused the earth to shake like it did. I’d especially like to see how fertile it is inland. Whether we could live there. Whether there are forests for building and firewood. There’s too little on the coast.’

I nodded, my mind busy. There were things I lacked here too. Plants I hadn’t been able to find on the coast. I needed willow and elder bark to replace what I had used in the winter. In fact, the list of plants I needed was long.

‘Might there be room for an extra person on the trip?’ I asked diffidently. ‘I don’t know how many you were planning to take … ’

‘I don’t know, Thora,’ said Bjorn. He frowned, looking straight ahead as he walked. ‘I’d planned to travel just with Helgi. We’re going to take the four riding horses we own between us and travel swiftly.’