Shieldmaiden (19 page)

‘I did no such thing! We had spoken…' her voice broke and she ran crying from the hall. Thora followed her but before she left she turned to Aisgerd and her look was full of hatred. Thorfinn put his elbows on the table and leant his head in his hands. Aisgerd stretched across and patted him on the shoulder. I waved to the thralls and servants to move to the other end of the hall and got up to follow them. Aisgerd held me back.

‘Stay with us Sigrid. You are as much my daughter as either of those two. Now tell me Thorfinn, what shall we do about this? I don't want any bad feelings between our families. I have done much thinking and I have come to accept I am no longer the wife of a chieftain and I cannot continue to behave as if I were. Marriage to your step-son would get one daughter off my hands and we might be able to negotiate a settlement. But has the boy changed his mind now? Tell me honestly without shame.'

‘The boy is not minded to marry. He wants adventure. He wants away from the farm. He torments me with his constant nagging about raids and fighting. Always out in the yard practising with sword and axe. Did well at the Allthing in the wrestling. He's a strong lad.'

‘What does his mother say about this? You have no plans to go aviking, have you?' Thorfinn looked shifty.

‘Ahh, ahem…Old habits, Aisgerd Rolfsdaughter, we had some good times even when we weren't in luck. You know what I mean, Sigrid, don't you? Brunnanburh, now wasn't that swordplay worthy of Thor himself ? I've composed a verse or two about it, just to remind myself.' His eyes lost their focus and a dreamy expression spread across his features.

‘Behold brave warriors of Brunnanburh

That brown and barren field, where…'

Aisgerd interrupted him with a disdainful snort:

‘You men! It's time to give up the old ways, Thorfinn. And anyway who will be looking after your wife and child if you take off again?'

‘Oh, I have no plans,' he widened his eyes in an innocent stare, ‘but I think maybe Hrodney would like me to go along and keep an eye on Anlaf. Well, that's if he were to go, that is.'

An idea, not yet a plan, was beginning to form in my mind.

‘Where would you go, Thorfinn?' He looked at me, startled. ‘If you were to go at all, that is'

‘Oh, I don't know. They say there's fortune to be won in Neustria and Normandy. But I don't have a ship, I'm not a chieftain. I just dream of fortunes abroad.'

‘That's enough of that. And you a Christian too.' Aisgerd put an end to Thorfinn's dreaming but I knew I there was a seed there, ready to be nurtured.

Aisgerd decided to approach Hrodney about Anlaf and Gyda.

‘This is not easy for me, Sigrid, but I have to accept my situation. Two maids on the farm is not good. I would like you to ride there and speak with them. I'm not up to the journey.'

She was right. She found walking difficult and spent most of her time indoors. I set off with such gifts as we could afford; a soft tanned skin, some ribbons woven by Gyda to show off her skills. I saddled Moonbeam. The stallion could have done with the exercise but I didn't want to risk Thorfinn recognising his old horse and perhaps regaining his memory. I don't remember asking him but Olvir came with me for part of the way and I was glad of the company. He had grown over the winter and his leggings and the sleeves of his tunic were too short.

‘We have to get you some new clothes. How old are you, Olvir? Do you know?'

‘I've just turned eight. Before the spring sacrifice.'

‘You seem very sure?'

‘Ingefried told me. She told all of us and said we had to remember.'

‘Who was your mother?' It had never occurred to me to ask him before. He'd just been Olvir who was always there.

‘Unn, she died when I was born. Ingefried looked after me.'

He was a thrall-woman's child. There wasn't much point in asking who his father was. It could be any of the men at Becklund. I wasn't sure I wanted to know but it stayed in my mind as I sent him back and continued on my own.

At Rannerdale I was met by the usual gaggle of children and dogs. Hrodney welcomed me and sent one of her children to find Thorfinn. She brought curds and bread. The bread was good with less bark in it than we had at Buttermere. We made small talk about the weather, the farm and the expected baby. Anlaf and Thorfinn joined us. I brought out the gifts and apologised for their meagreness. They praised the intricacy of Gyda's weaving and the softness of the deerskin. By now, we all knew the purpose of my visit.

Anlaf was awkward and had to be prompted to offer praise. He treated me with great respect. But the way he looked at me, when he thought himself unobserved, the way he blushed if our eyes met, made me feel as uncomfortable as his previous insolence. I wondered what had caused the change in him.

Hrodney and Thorfinn were as enthusiastic as Anlaf was reluctant. I would return to Buttermere with the message that Thorfinn and Anlaf would visit soon. Before I left I enquired about Brother Ansgar. He was at Keswick market, a trusted servant rather than a thrall.

‘But he knows nothing about farming!'

‘No,' said Hrodney, ‘but he knows about money and bartering. Many of the Saxons like to deal with him because of the religion. They trust him and there's less trouble. We trust him too.' I could but marvel at how the little monk had prospered. I was sorry to miss him and left my greetings for him.

Thorfinn accompanied us part of the way home, as was polite, but in reality he wanted to talk.

‘We suffered a bad defeat at Brunnanburh.'

‘Yes, it was hard.' I was still on my guard with Thorfinn. I wasn't sure how deep the change in him had gone. It is a big step from violent berserker to peaceful farmer. And the worry that he'd regain his memory nagged at me. But he seemed relaxed and friendly as with an old comrade which, in a sense, I was.

‘None of our fault, though. We fought well.'

I could no longer keep my curiosity under control. I had to ask: ‘How did you get away? Last time I saw you, you slept like a dead man. I couldn't rouse you.'

He grinned and his eyes shone with the pleasure of the memory: ‘Well, ah…you see, I borrowed some clothes and a helmet from a Mercian who didn't need them any more and pretended I'd fought for Aethelstan all along. How did you manage?'

I told him as much as I thought he needed to know. I made sure he understood my kinship with King Harald Finehair.

‘And, I think, maybe Hakon took my mother back to Norway.'

‘So she may still be alive. A real lady, your mother, she treated us well.' A thought made furrows on his brow. ‘But there was this wench…' he looked at me. ‘It wasn't you was it? Cut my hand?'

‘You should have been more careful where you put it, Thorfinn.'

I made a joke but every muscle in my body was prepared for flight. He stared at me under lowered brow. His knuckles showed white on his clenched hands. I held my breath. Had I pushed my luck too far? Suddenly, he threw back his head and his laughter rumbled like a rock-fall.

‘I should have known,' he snorted and steadied his horse, which had been startled by the sudden noise. ‘I should have known. A real shieldmaiden – already a warrior queen in the making.' He pulled up his horse and turned so we were face to face.

‘Sigrid Kveldulfsdaughter, we have done much fighting together and minded each other's lives like good comrades.' He looked me straight in the eye and offered his right hand. We clasped each other's wrists in a warrior greeting and his voice was warm when he declared: ‘There is no bad blood between us.'

I agreed but wondered how he would feel if he ever recalled how I almost killed him by Mosedale Beck.

It was another full moon before Thorfinn and Anlaf arrived at Buttermere Farm. They were accompanied by Brother Ansgar. I was pleased to see him again and noted how strong and healthy he looked.

‘Working the land, Sigrid. It is good for me to breathe God's fresh air instead of standing in the scriptorium copying documents all day, important work as that may be. I always knew the Lord had a purpose for me here.'

I was amazed at his conviction and wondered to myself if he realised that two of his converts were dreaming of raids and battleglory. After greetings had been exchanged and the guests settled inside, a sulky Anlaf was prompted to hand a carved scutcher to Gyda.

‘Funny kind of a love-token,' Olvir whispered to me.

‘It's because of her skills in weaving ribbons. The scutcher will help her prepare the flax.'

‘He still doesn't seem very keen, does he?'

‘I suppose he's a bit shy.'

‘Not shy of looking at you though. See, there he goes again.'

‘Stop it, Olvir. This is nothing to do with us. Let's go.' I picked up Kveldulf but was called back by Aisgerd, who wanted me to be part of the bartering. I made it clear to Olvir he would not be needed and he scuttled off with Bjarne to take the field-workers their mid-day meal.

A traitor's daughter or not, Gyda was of an old, high-ranking Manx family and a desirable addition to the household at Rannerdale. Their demands for dowry were modest. She had her jewellery and she'd get linens and fleeces. The rest could be raised by selling some animals.

‘Perhaps the horse I arrived on,' suggested Ansgar. ‘I would be willing to take it to market and get a good price for it.'

We accepted and I knew this was my opportunity to finally get rid of Thorfinn's stallion. It would fetch a better price and maybe make Gyda more favourably inclined towards me but, more importantly, it would rid me of the last link with that day by Mosedale Beck.

‘Then there's the question of the bride-geld.' Thorfinn looked pleased with himself. ‘We can offer you a thrall-girl to take over Gyda's work on the farm. She is with child so we're giving you two thralls.' The way Anlaf glared at Thorfinn made it clear who the father was, but that was no concern of ours. ‘Brother Ansgar's time as a thrall with us comes to an end this autumn but we are willing to release him early so he can help you with the spring ploughing.' Everyone agreed these were very good terms and Thorfinn had done well by Aisgerd.

We drank good mead to seal the agreement and Thorfinn grew talkative. After reminiscing about Brunnanburh, I steered the conversation on to Becklund and I told of how I had lost my claim to my family home. Thorfinn shook his head in sympathy.

‘Did you know my father had been branded an outlaw?'

‘No and it seems harsh.'

‘Sometimes I feel that, if I could only talk to my grandfather, he would change the verdict.' He looked surprised.

‘Have you not heard? Harald is dead and Eirik is king. Your other uncle, Hakon, the one who…ahem… slew your father, well, he's left England and gone to Norway to challenge his brother for the crown. Now that will be a battle. They are both great warriors, those two.'

‘I didn't know. Who do you think will win?'

‘Hard to say. But they will both be looking for swords to support their claim.'

At this point Aisgerd put a stop to his deliberations.

‘None of that concerns us here. Sigrid has this farm to look after. She doesn't need another one.'

I could see no advantage in upsetting her and so we listened to her memories of her life in Ireland before she was given in marriage to Jarl Swein and taken to the Isle of Man. Her comments about her dead husband were, as always, bitter and I saw Thorfinn growing uneasy. After a polite interval he and Anlaf took their leave. I went with them as far as the gate to wish them a safe ride home. They mounted their horses but before they rode off Thorfinn turned to me and said: ‘If you decide to go, send for me.'

Ansgar stayed with us and two weeks before midsummer he and I led the bridal party from Buttermere to Rannerdale. Aisgerd was not well enough to undertake the journey so Gyda was accompanied by Thora and two of the servants. We were greeted by the assembled household at Rannerdale and the family from Low Kid Farm. Horns of sweet, strong mead were handed round. I thought back on my own bride-ale and how I had humiliated my father.

This time it was not the bride but the groom who was reluctant. Gyda, her hair bleached and braided, in her best clothes and jewellery was all smiles. She was introduced to those present as Anlaf 's bride and the future mistress of Rannerdale farm. Then Thora and Hrodney took her inside the house. After a short while they came out and told Anlaf that his bride was ready. He had drunk more than his share of the mead and now, supported by his friend Ulf of Low Kid Farm, he staggered towards the house. In the middle of the yard they stopped and turned. They walked on unsteady legs past the house and disappeared behind the corner in the direction of the privy. This caused many jokes which were interrupted by a group of children running into the yard and Olvir's frightened scream;

‘Smoke! There's a fire! It looks like Buttermere.'

16.

We left only enough people to defend Rannerdale Farm, the rest joined me in fetching our horses from the meadow and getting helmets, shields and weapons ready. Thorfinn and two others rode up Rannerdale to Whiteless Pike thinking to cut off the escape of any raiders that way. Anlaf and Ulf came at a stumbling trot from behind the house. They dunked their befuddled heads in the water trough. Dripping and fumbling to get their weapons and armour ready, they joined me by the horses. I threw off my pinafore and tucked the hem of my dress into my belt. Straddling my mare I led them on the more direct path through Great Wood. My face burned and I spurred Moonbeam in front of the others. The house we had repaired, the animals we had reared and kept alive during the winter and, worst of all, Aisgerd with only Beorn the Lame and a handful of women and thralls to defend her.

The wind blew into my face and soon I could smell the smoke. It was acrid. They had set fire to the fresh hay as well as to the buildings. The bellowing of frightened animals mingled with the terrified screams of women and excited, high-pitched yells of the raiders. I urged my mare on. One of our dogs lay on the track with its throat cut. I steered my mare around it and drew Dragonclaw.