Sister Bear

[Alvlin]

Trigger warning (Spoiler, might destroy build-up)

Spoiler

Domestic violence seen from both sides, rape from victim's perspective with dissociative details

"Don't you ever long for a wife?"

"Not enough to have one."

"But, some other female company? Many of your tenants have daughters."

"You are good company."

"You know that's not what I mean."

"I know "

"They talk, they say you let your horses take a woman's place."

"I know"

"And…"

"I don't "

"Doesn't it bother you?"

He shrugged.

"I know that I don't."

She looked out over the paddock for a moment, frowning.

"You know, your lack of protest will one day lead to trouble."

"Maybe. But not as long as you all need me."

She turned and looked at him, hand above her eyes to shield them from the autumn sun.

"Or we will simply have to find you a wife with no interest in a husband."

"But then, what would be the point?"

"To get everyone off your back, maybe save your life."

"If I can be so well loved by you without any obligations…"

"Being well loved by another man's wife won't exactly save you from slander."

"If you find a woman with no interest in a husband, or children, who will leave me alone, I'll consider it."

It was the first day of winter when Kildevi and Anund sat together on the boulder in the paddock, surrounded by the horse herd. Little did they know it was the last day in a long time they would speak freely.


"Where have you been?"

She turned around, surprised.

"Sigulf! I didn't know you were back."

He had thrown off the apron, but blood from the slaughter had splattered over his hands and shoes, only summarily wiped off.

"Well, I am. I came back to see you before everyone else crowded the house, but when I came here I was told you were out and no one knew where you were."

"That's very sweet of you, I was in the holy glade."

"What were you doing there?"

He sounded angry. She met his eyes with a frown.

"I left an offering to the glade. Why?"

"So, you were running around alone in the woods doing Oðins and Frǫyas magic."

Her heart sped up. Surely, she must have misheard? But no, he continued.

"I don't like it, I don't like my wife putting herself on level with the gods."

"I- I don't. It was just an offering. Even your mother leaves offerings, it has to be done!"

"So let her do it. You shouldn't. Not after what you did this summer. Don't you think about me at all?"

She leant back, looking at him as calmly as she could while her blood was quickly rising to a boil.

"Do I have to remind you that it was for your sake I fought? For your blood. For your father's mistake."

"And I almost lost you! Do you know what it was like, waiting for you to wake up? And you still run around and dabble in things, who knows when you don't come back next time? I want you to stop. Cut it off. You won't put me through that wake again."

Teeth gritting, she pointed to him.

"I risked my life trying to free you. I walked in places you can't even reach, fought until every part of me was bleeding, to lift a curse for YOU! And you call it dabbling!"

She shook her head.

"I feel bad for you to be stuck with me afterwards! Your brothers will go out into the world and find wives the usual way - only because you settled for an orphan."

He crossed his arms.

"We don't know if it worked. No one even saw you, I don't even know if it was real!"

"You think I pretended to be out of my body for three whole days?"

"I don't know, maybe you just made it all up to run around alone doing who knows what. No one saw how you fell asleep, did they?"

"You know I didn't. And what exactly are you accusing me of doing? Say the words!"

The words came fast now, both of them spitting spears and arrows.

"If that is what you want, yes! You could be doing anything with anyone out there for all I know!"

"WHO?! Anund, who you accuse of being argr? Svein? An unbearded boy who can't keep his voice steady through a sentence?"

"I am not saying you do, I say that you could! And there are more men here than my brothers."

"But I am not doing anything, with anyone, and I can't make the power or the knowledge go away. I don't want it to go away! It's mine!"

"Of course you don't, you just love how it puts you above your betters."

"Above? Have you ever listened to a word I've told you about me? You knew well what I was before we married!"

"But not until after Mother forced our betrothal."

Her anger suddenly turned cold. When she replied, her voice was hard set but eerily calm.

"Forced? You. You felt forced. That's rich, coming from you. If that is how you feel, you should try to divorce me, I'm sure your father would take me back."

The strike came fast, hard and Kildevi staggered back, ears ringing and face numb. When their eyes met again his eyes were black, shoulders tense.

"Don't you dare speak like that again."

He turned and walked away. Kildevi stood still in shock, staring after him.


She took a moment to collect herself. Her face hurt. No one had laid hands on her in a very long time, long enough for the shock to be worse than the pain. Kneading her neck, she realized that she was shaking. Some part of herself started to withdraw, safe behind an armor of indifference. She could avoid him, like she had avoided her brothers. There was no need to talk to him unless spoken to. She had chores to do, then she could roam, her mind could roam if not her body. It had been foolish of her to act as if she had a standing, as if the world of men belonged to her. No, something whispered. You are no longer what you used to be. You are a grown woman, a wedded wife, you have the magic of the finns and the vanir and in three years time you will be a mother. You do not bend.
Suddenly calm and grounded, she rose.


It took that night and a day until he returned. She briefly saw him walking with their two housecarls in the morning, and then again when the men went to bathe in the evening, but he kept out of the longhouse and clearly avoided every chance of a meeting. Remembering the night of their betrothal, she waited, constantly thrown between silent fury and an almost physical longing for everything to be as it used to, the anxiety slowly overcoming her rage. On the second night, she woke up when he slipped into the bed, nuzzling her hair from behind, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"I have missed you," he whispered. "I feel like just half a man without you."

She had promised herself to not let it slide, to be calm and cold and show him she was not so easily broken, but skin to skin, his chest against her back, her body betrayed her and she started shaking. He seemed to feel the change, as the tender kisses on her neck grew feverish, his hand around her waist pulling her towards him.

"I don't know what you do to me," he mumbled. "You drive me mad."

"You drive you mad," she whispered back, low enough for him to hear only if he truly tried to listen. Against her own judgment she turned her head to meet his lips, and then she threw her arms around him, sobbing in desperation.

They should have talked. She knew she should have put her foot down, and they should have discussed some things and taken others back, sorting the words bearing truth from the words thrown to hurt.
But this was easier.


Out in the storehouse next to the granary, Kildevi put down yet another sack of onions.

"What would you do if Thorlev ever struck you?"

Alfrida put down the crate of apples in a corner and turned around to pick up the next.

"I didn't budge, and told him to do it again tomorrow. "

"Why?"

"That would leave him one more strike before I could go home to my father."

"Did he?"

"No. He grew pale. I don't think he ever considered he might be risking something."

Kildevi put down yet another sack and paused to stretch.

"And what would you have done if there was nowhere to go back to?"

Alfrida picked up the next crate and didn't reply until she had put it down on top of the last. Finally, she said,

"I would have thought long and hard about what I could refuse him and what I could not, then bide my time. How many sacks of carrots?"

"Twelve, this far, but there are some left to count."

"I'm almost done with the apples. Revenge can take many forms, but I would have made sure the scales were balanced."

She put down the last crate and put her hands on her back to straighten it out.

"And I would make sure that everyone knew that I didn't let him get away with it."


That night she lay in bed way too late waiting for him. Last time she'd seen Sigulf he had been deep into both a beer keg and a game of Hnefatafl with Eirik and Thogard, and no matter how she tried her mind just couldn't find peace enough to sleep. When she finally heard him come into the old part of the longhouse she pretended to sleep, too tired to talk or even think. The curtain was pulled aside. Eyes closed she felt his stare bore into her back.

"When exactly did I stop being man enough for you?"

He grabbed her shoulder to turn her around and she rolled over, blinking to get him into focus.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you. You used to wait up for me, smiling… smiling when you saw me. Now you won't even look at me when I say… stuff."

"I'm just tired, I'm…"

"Shut up. I love you and all you have for me is lies and excuses."

"Lies?"

"Like, how you told Anund you sejðed before me. And… And why do you talk so much with my father? What is it you won't tell me?"

She shook her head, trying to follow his thoughts.

"He's the closest thing I have to a father…"

"But he's not though, is he? He's an old man with an old wife taking too much interest in a young thing he 'fosters'"

Kildevi blinked, suddenly awake.

"You can't be serious. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"I'm ridiculous too now, am I?"

"Yes. But you're drunk. Drink sometimes makes men ridiculous."

Her voice softened.

"Thorlev only has eyes for Alfrida when he's home, you know that. We spent almost two weeks alone on the road and he never said or did anything he couldn't have done to a daughter."

"So what is it you tell him that you can't tell me?"

"Everything. Nothing. Whatever people talk about."

She looked pleadingly up at him.

"Please maðr mín, come to bed. Sleep it off. Don't chase shadows that will disappear in daylight."

He hesitated, and for a few seconds she didn't know which way his mind was going, but finally he kicked off his shoes, left his trousers in a heap outside the drape and climbed down into the bed with her. When his hands started to roam, she played as willing as she possibly could, too afraid the brittle peace would crack under the weight of anything less. When he finally started snoring, she was wide awake, thinking about Alfridas advice. How do you balance iron scales with a feather weight?


But things did not work out the way she wanted or Alfrida seemed to think it should. What could she possibly have to refuse him? She tried to act cold and aloof, but all that brought was more anger, until the rope of his jealousy tightened around her arms. Everything she did, everything she said could be used as an argument for disloyalty, and soon she found herself exactly where the inner voice had told her not to go. Silent. Vigilant. Careful not to do or say anything that he might find fault with. One afternoon, Thorlev caught up with her on the way to the bakery. She had avoided being alone with him - as she did with everyone now except for Alfrida and the workwomen - but this time he followed her and closed the door behind him.

"What is happening? You have been avoiding me for weeks."

"I… No, I haven't. But I don't belong to you anymore."

He frowned, taken aback.

"Belong to me? I've given away my legal responsibilities, but nothing else has changed. Just talk to me."

"He doesn't like that I speak to you alone."

Thorlev's eyebrows rose.

"He doesn't like that you speak to me?"

"No. He claims it undermines him. That there is nothing that I would speak to you about that I shouldn't take through him."

Thorlev shook his head.

"He can't forbid you to speak to family."

"He hasn't forbidden me, as such. He has just… made it clear he doesn't like it."

He met her eyes, eyebrows furrowed.

"But that's not all, is it?"

"No."

She swallowed.

"He doesn't like me talking to the land or the elves, and he is afraid any rite or ritual will… take carnal form. And who can blame him? I mean, I did meet with him in the woods long before I should have."

"You met with a man you both knew you would marry. That is no reason to forbid your fate. I will talk to him."

"No, please! Don't!" she blurted out.

Thorlev paused, watching her intently.

"I see. You don't want him to understand that you have told me. Alfrida will speak to him, then. She notices things. She can know without being told."


Sigulf saw Thorlev leave the bakery that day, and went cold, afraid that she had finally decided to divorce him. Later, when he was the most hurt, angry and betrayed, her response was to just keep feeding him lullabies and half-truths to soothe him, making the stone on his chest grow bigger and bigger until he couldn't breathe and finally threw her into one of the side beams. He couldn't stand to look at her in the chaos of hurt, anger and guilt, so he stayed away for two days, until being apart was even harder than being together.

"I'm sorry," he whispered when he slipped down in the bed behind her, careful not to look at the black and purple blotches going down her back just a bit left of the spine.

"I just want to be as important to you as you are to me."

She didn't reply, but her shoulder shook ever so slightly.

"Hey. Kildevi. Look at me."

Softly, he rolled her over on her back, and she looked right at him, gray eyes reddened, her pillow soaked and wet.

"Do you remember that morning up at the creek? We dipped our feet, and you had brought a smoked sausage so hard we almost couldn't eat it. Do you remember?"

With a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob she smiled and nodded.

"Do you remember how you suddenly decided to undress and jump in, then splashed me with water until I joined you?"

This time she gave a little snort of laughter and nodded again.

"I miss that. I want that. Don't you?"

Still without saying a word, she nodded profusely and started crying again, before she crawled up next to him, hiding her face at his shoulder. Things were as they should again, like always.


Kildevi didn't know if Alfrida had words with her son or not, but when the real winter snow fell and the household kept more and more inside, Sigulfs temper slowly turned. In the weeks leading up to midwinter, they often sat next to each other when they worked, him carefully fitting taps into rucky chairs while she spun, or bound small mittens and socks in what seemed like twentyfold the number of children. Sometimes she fell asleep on his shoulder out in the hall, lulled by the smell and sound of his tools against a rough piece of juniper. It felt as if she had gotten him back, she bathed in his attention and consideration, warm whispers, a need that had suddenly returned and could awaken anywhere, anytime and keep her warm while winter raged outside. With his full time and attention on her, it was too easy to just not go anywhere, talk to anyone or think about the spirits whispering outside, unheard. Bending to his will, she bought herself more than a month of bliss.


But past midwinter the tide turned. The restlessness returned, and soon she found herself cautious again, trying to discern the safest route through every conversation to avoid the fights that too often ended with bruises. At night, she lay awake, prepared to pretend to welcome him, but more often than not now, he just turned to sleep and she could breathe out and do the same.


Then, one night when the snow had thawed and Sigulf still sat out in the hall with the others, Thore crawled into her bed. His restless sleep sometimes made him sleepwalk, and she gently opened the blanket to let him in. Now it seemed so distant that less than a year ago she had wanted to exchange his spinning limbs for a husband, and she tenderly stroked his hair away from his face before tucking the blanket around them. Lulled by the warmth and light snoring of the child, she slumbered.


Sigulf came later than usual. Kildevi woke up by him shaking the boy awake.

"You. Get out."

Rubbing his eyes, Thore started to protest, and Kildevis' stomach turned in a whole new and sudden fear.

"Please, he's sleepwalking. Just let me…"

"You're not going anywhere. He's five. He can walk."

Thore was awake now, blinking at the sudden light from Sigulfs lamp.

"But I don't wanna…"

While her heart beat way too fast, way too hard, Kildevi made her voice as soft and soothing as she possibly could.

"Hush, darling. Go back to your brothers, sweetie."

"But why?"

"Go see if you can sleep with your mother, hm? It's just a few steps, go on now!"

Thore looked as if he wanted to protest, but then he crawled out of the bed, passed his towering brother and across the room to his parents. She held her breath until she saw him disappear behind the bed curtain, then she dared look up again.

"You've gone too far this time. You don't use the children to keep me away."

Kildevi didn't reply, all words finally gone. She didn't need foretelling to know from the tension in his neck that whatever was going to happen, she had no way to stop it. Just rest, little one, something whispered. I'll take this one for you.


So, she watched, from her body but somehow yet slightly from above, how he grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the bedframe. She didn't scream or plead, just kept as silent as possible so no one would wake up and hear them. Passively she saw how his hands almost met around the base of her throat as he grasped it to push her over, how he put his full weight on her shoulders to anchor her to the mattress. Watching her own rape from the outside, she noticed the strangest things. There was a worn patch on her pillow that she had never thought of before. The wall hanging had a lighter tone in one of the stripes, and she wondered if that was a mistake from the dye bath or the weaving. He said things, many things, angry things, but she didn't quite hear him. Her thoughts had slowed, the silence in her head loud enough to mute all sound.

"Say something! Answer me!"

She blinked. Tried to turn around. He let her. She looked up. His left eye had a broken vessel. Was that from drink or anger? Did he have that before? He stared down at her. Long, too long. Maybe he could see that she was outside, because he let her body go, then lay on his side, just watching her. Some minutes or hours later, he was snoring. Careful not to wake him, she lent over his sleeping form and picked up her shift from the side of the bed. Such a good thing she had taken it off before he came to bed tonight, she thought. Now she wouldn't have to mend it.

It's safe now, the voice whispered. You can come back. But Kildevi shook her head.
Not yet. I'm not ready to come back.
I'll let you sleep, then. Then we'll see.


Two side beams down the room, Anund turned.


She woke up from her half-slumber by Alfrida opening the bed curtain, grabbing her shoulder to shake her awake.

"Kildevi. Get up."

"I… I can't."

"Nonsense. Get up, or I'll drag you up by the hair."

"I can't. I'm sorry."

"Why not? Did he break your bones? No. Listen to me."

She bent down, forcing the younger woman to meet her stare.

"You don't break down, you break even. Get up. We have work to do."

Slowly, Kildevi sat up, dragged by the sheer will in Alfridas voice.

"That's better. Let me look at you."

Her fingers traced the large bump on her forehead, the split lip, the blueish shadow of a bruise around her throat, visible above the neckline of the shift. She clicked her tongue.

"He did you up bad this time."

"He can't hold his drink."

"Nonsense. No man does anything while drunk he wouldn't do sober if only he dared to. He's a bad tempered brute, and going for you doesn't cost him anything. We'll have to change that."

"But how?"

"He's afraid of what you can do. He doesn't understand your world and knows nothing about it. Make him sick. Make him impotent. Take something he values away from him and don't give it back until he shows remorse."

"I don't know how to do any of that. I've never cursed anyone."

Alfrida sighed.

"Use your mind, girl. You don't have to be stupid. Spike his beer with poppy and say you've taken his strength. Serve him old meat and pretend you've cursed him."

"Please, just help me. I can't do this on my own."

"That's what I'm doing. I'm mothering you."

Her voice softened.

"I can't do this for you. What would either of you learn, hm? But I can do it with you. And you can stay in this bed, but I won't take your hand until you rise on your feet. The choice is yours."

"I want to."

"I'll be outside the curtain when you're ready."


In the evening, he came to bed as usual, as if the night before had never happened. That night he was talking, he kissed her neck, he didn't accuse her of coldness because she slept in her shift, he took her softly and fell asleep with his face towards her. But though all the motions were tender, he never seemed to recognize that she was lying passive, still watching from the outside.

 

[Alvlin]

Content Warning: This episode contains a scene that may be disturbing to some readers and unsuitable for minors. That text will be covered (Yay for spoiler-functions!) until you choose to reveal it, and have a one-sentence description for those of you that don't feel up to it. Okay. Let's go!

---

The cold hit that night. Winter had made a feint, like it does most years, and now it came back with renewed strength, with snow falling in the night and the upper layer only barely thawing in the morning. The hall was crowded, with housecarls, workwomen and farmhands all gathered inside, the house thralls busy with keeping the floor dry and the fires burning. Past midday, Sigulf put down his tools and rose.

"I can't take all this sitting anymore. I'm moving the horses. They should be inside tonight."

Anund nodded.

"I'm coming with you. Skjald is skittish."

"Bring someone more," Alfrida said, looking up from her embroidery. "Olaf? Eirik?"

The men rose and started to collect their cloaks and mittens.

"Make sure you're done by nightfall, there isn't much daylight left."

"Yes Mother, we've lived through winters before."

Kildevi sat next to her matron, the warp of her brick weave stretched taut between her waist and the closest beam. Sigulf leant in to give her a kiss, but she turned away. Firmly, he placed the kiss on her cheek before he walked out, followed by Anund, Eirik and Olaf the farmhand.


The men had just finished leading the horses back to the homestead when they heard howls. There were not many, just two voices joined, echoing between the trees. They waited, but there was no call in response. Sigulf looked at the others.

"They're close, too close. But only two or three of them."

Anund nodded. Sigulf looked up at the sky, where the bleak sun had just dipped below the horizon.

"We still have some twilight left. I'll get my spear, should I fetch yours too?"


The men split up, going in half circles towards the howls. Eirik and Olaf on the left, Anund and Sigulf to the right on the smokehouse side, down around the boulder marking the old sheep pasture. The fencing was half torn down, but the skeleton of it still stood, waiting for spring repairs. Shadows moved between the trees.

"What was that?"

"Sch."

Standing still, they waited. Nothing came. Slowly relaxing, they both went forward again until they'd skirted the pasture and once again reached the open pine forest. Suddenly, something jumped out from the trees closest to the pasture. A boar, stuck between the fence and the men, galloped towards them at full speed. Sigulf barely had time to get his spear up before it crashed into him, tusks tearing cloth and flesh. The hog backed off, and when it closed again, Sigulf's spear hit right between the front legs, digging deep into its chest. The boar took another few steps, then turned for a new charge, and toppled. Trying to get back on its hooves, it dragged itself for maybe an arm's length through the snow, then it went still, spear still stuck in its chest. Above them, new flakes of snow were visible against the night sky.


A few steps behind, Sigulf lay in the snow, grasping his thigh. The tusk had ripped through both tunic and trousers and dug into the flesh, leaving a gaping wound that soaked the cloak in blood.

"Anund! Help me!"

Anund hunched down, taking one look at his brother before looking up again. Beneath them, blood seeped through the icy crust, the soft snow turning red.

"No."

"What? Why would you..."

Sigulf paused, and shook. The words came hoarsely, with great effort.

"I knew it. But you'll never… She won't have you."

Anund was silent for a moment.
"You think this is about your wife? Not everything is. I don't want her."

His eyes fixed on something in the distance.

"But Eskil does. He'll be better."

"You are letting me die, for a woman?"

Sigulf was panting now, breath visible as short puffs of smoke in the cold.

"Nah. You are bad for the herd."

Squinting down on his older brother, he continued.

"I once had an excellent first mare. The stallion was wise, he did his part to front and protect, he let her work. She kept order, the herd was stable, at peace. When the old stallion grew weak, a skittish young hot blood took his place. He overrode her, he started fights. The herd was in turmoil. He was a good horse, but a bad leader, so I sold him."

He looked away, at something deep inside the forest.

"But I can't sell you. All I can do is let you die before the old stallion."

At that, he turned towards the homestead.

"Anund, wait!"

The voice was weak. Anund kept walking.


The snowfall was heavy when Anund entered the house, big flakes melting on his cloak as he sat down next to the hearth, warming his hands.

"Sigulf isn't back yet?"

Thorlev sat sharpening his knife, now he looked up from his work.

"No, he isn't with you?"

Anund shook his head.

"Boars. We lost each other. I thought he'd gone back."

"Bad weather to be lost in the woods. If he's not back in a short while, we will have to go looking for him."

"Let's hope he's back soon, then," Svein said, looking up through the smoke rift above the hearth where snow blotted out the dark sky. "I don't want to go out in this weather."

"That makes you a volunteer," Thorlev grunted. "Your brother is out there alone, a bit of snow won't kill you."

Alfrida and Kildevi came in through the door to the old longhouse, and behind them two house thralls brought dry firewood into the hall.

"All the little ones are counted in, and I have decided to move all the thralls into the house tonight, too much risk to lose someone in this weather…" She trailed off. "What's wrong? Where is Sigulf?"

"We're still waiting for him," Thorlev said in that calm voice he used when he didn't want to alarm her. "He and Anund lost track of each other, so either he'll be here soon or he's found shelter somewhere. We'll go looking for him as soon as Anund has warmed up a bit."

Alfrida looked at Kildevi, who just stood there, face pale as ash.

"Why don't you sit down."

She said it softly, but no one mistook it for a suggestion. Kildevi sank down on the closest bench.

"And why don't you go now?" Alfrida said, hand on her swelling belly. "Anund can change mittens and he'll be good to go. We will have a warm drink ready for you when you return."

Thorlev nodded.

"We'll go in pairs. Anund and Svein, you take the paddock, Thogard and Eirik the smokehouse."

Thorlev called up eight men, who rose two by two and disappeared out the door with torches and spears. Soon all that was left inside was women and children, and Eirik the elder who usually lived in a nearby cottage, but came to the homestead when the weather turned bad.
"I probably should have gone with them", he chuckled. "Just so I don't die in my bed of old age. But I can't die yet, you all still need me."

"You won't die, you dried up old goat!" Alfrida replied, without malice. "As long as there is beer to drink and pigs to gut you'll just keep going until Ragnarok."

When everyone seemed to have settled back into their tasks, Alfrida sat down on the bench, putting her arm around Kildevis' shoulders as she lent in to whisper.

"He never drank it."

"Hm?"

"Just so you know, he never drank the poppy. If he has lost himself in the woods, it was no fault of yours."

"Thank you. I… I don't wish him ill. I just…"

Alfrida squeezed her shoulder, a tender gesture thoughtlessly digging into bruises still raw and purple.

"I know, I know."


The men found Sigulf next to the dead boar. He had tried to wrap the torn trousers around the wound, then with his last strength dragged himself to the still warm hog, leaving a trail of blood through the snow. They went back for a sledge to bring him on his last voyage home.


The only thing that broke through Kildevis inner silence were Alfridas inhuman screams. It turned out that losing a fifth child hurts no less than the first or third. The two smallest ones were lost in the face of their mothers grief. Kildevi crouched down between them.

"Do you two want to come and sleep in my bed tonight?"

Geir just stared at the door from where he heard his mother's cries, and Thore hesitated, silently watching her behind a curtain of brown hair.

"Just you and me this time, sweetie. Geir if he wants to."

Thore nodded.

"Then I'll see you there soon."


The men raised a tent, and poured out boiling water inside it, before they slowly started to force a resting grave out of the ground frost. With rites and potions, Kildevi and Alfrida prepared the funeral mead, careful to find the right measure in both strength and amount, so it would last through all the rites and still be strong enough to take everyone where they needed to be. But when asked if she wanted to be mistress of the rites, Kildevi shook her head.

"I didn't even know him for a year. Alfjir brought him into this world, it is only fair she will lead his passing from it."


A funeral was a feast, but not a revel. The mead was mead, but also a key to unlock their farewells. On the first day, the world was firmly in place around them. On the second, Alfrida took the tusk of the boar and cut her own face down the middle, deep enough to leave a scar in her forehead. The bonfire, the resting grave, the old mounds around them, started to close into its own world.


On the third day, she heard him. He called her name. Taking another gulp of the funeral mead she heard his voice clearer, it grew in strength by each mouthful. Dizzy, she stumbled towards the resting grave where he lay waiting for the pyre at the end of the funeral. He looked up at her and beckoned her closer.

"My wife. Finally you hear me."

"How long have you called?"

"Since you turned from me."

"Do you know why?"

He nodded, neck stiff in death.

"What do you want me to send with you to the pyre?"

"You."

"No. What else."

"Your hair. Your beauty."

"No. You can have the length it has grown since we first met. That will leave me no worse than you found me."

"You are a hard woman, Kildevi."

"Not hard enough. I shouldn't have loved you past the third strike."

(Click below for a scene of drug-induced ritual necrophilia)
"Come to me. One last time. Let things be like they should again, one last time."

"Yes. One last time for goodbye."

She climbed down into the shallow grave. In the flickering torchlight, she saw the outline of figures gathering above, watching as she unpinned her cloak, her coat, her overdress, and finally the neckpin on her kirtle. They reached down as she freed herself from her earthly coverings, grabbed for each dress to peel it off her. Every layer lost took her further away from the land of the living. Naked in the cold, she climbed atop her fallen husband, her bruises still telling their story in marbled colorwork. Someone was holding a rhythm, the figures above stomping their feet and drumming their spears into the frozen ground.

"You took me back into my body once," she whispered. "Now I will take you out of yours."

The blue lips twitched into a smile, and she kissed them, her hand fumbling in the cold when she released him from the belt. Surrounded by the watchers, she rode him, first laughing, then crying, finally screaming as the ride turned more and more into a struggle and she felt his cold hand grasp her neck, forcing it still above him. Staring into her with white eyes, he mouthed,

"Bend my sword."

"I will."

"Kill it, or I will come back for you."

"I will bend your sword to a knot and break your spear to pieces. Then I'll stand back and watch you burn."

"So we are done."

He let go, and as she raised her hands the watchers grabbed her arms, lifting her up from the grave, carrying her above their heads back to the bonfire.
She was drained, only vaguely aware that Thorlev rose to cradle her, wrapping her body in a cloak. Returned to the father's arms, she slept.

In his house, she found her grandfather asleep with three women, the house full of young and old.

"Where is my grandmother?"

"She left a long time ago."

"Who are these children?"

"That is your uncle Grim."

"But where is my father?"

"With his mother, of course. She wanted two children from me, no more. Then she took her helper and left."

"She divorced you? On what grounds?"

"No, she didn't. I took two more wives and let her go."

"Do you know where I can find her?"

"From what I know, she is still with Birna."


She walked out into her well known forest, to the bear cave where she once had found a mother. The cave had a door, and she knocked on it. It was opened by a brown haired woman with dark eyes and broad shoulders, who showed her into a little house filled with rich furs and many lights. Although twenty years younger, her amma was easy to recognize. Her gray hair was now a cold dark brown, but her eyes just as blue and her cheekbones just as high and sharp.

"Welcome, little one. I am glad we found a place and time."

"It's my husband's funeral. Shouldn't I mourn him?"

"You have said your goodbyes. Do you have more for him to take?"

Kildevi shook her head.

"I love you."

"I know."

"Where is my father?"

"He left me for his father a long time ago."

"So why did you stay with him until the end?"

"I was waiting for you."

Mavdna filled two high, green glasses with clear water and offered her one. The water was cold and tasted of metal.

"Do you remember the first thing he forbade you?"

"To talk to the spirits."

"So what must we never allow again?"

Kildevi swallowed, and nodded.

"Don't live in fear, little one. You will grow old, like me, and so will your helper. But while I could find myself content with Birna alone, your nature forces you to find a man again."

"Can't I wait?"

"You'll have time to find your footing before your next husband returns."

"Can't I choose my helper?"

Mavdna put her hand on her granddaughter's cheek and smiled, not without compassion.

"Oh, little one. You know the horsmaðr won't feed the fire, or us."

She looked up and met Birnas gaze.

"Our time is running out. It will be many years before we meet like this again."

"One last question! My omens…"

"Your old amma has a knack for haggling."


On the fifth day, Sigulf was laid in a wooden crate, together with his gaming board, his tools, his pearls, everything he held dear. The bent sword rested on his chest, his shield over his legs. Next to him, they put his horse, the pieces of his broken spear and food and drink for a week. At his feet stood the head of the boar, the tusk with Alfrida's blood driven into its forehead. Over his throat Kildevi draped her cut-off hair - a half-foot in length - drenched in the blood of one of the sacrificed dowry hens. It was hard to bring the pyre to a burn, but once it caught, it slowly devoured every trace of him.
After the funeral, Kildevi bled for two weeks. The seed of their child was gone with him.

Then came spring. Summer followed, and with it came the brittle scream of a newborn, a birth so quick and undramatic no one even had time to call for Alfjir. Alfrida had lost one child, and given birth to another. Life settled.

 

[Alvlin]

This part includes explicit descriptions of foreplay between adults (18+) as consenting as arranged marriages allows. Not sure if this is indeed a warning or not, I put it as one just to be on the safe side.

---

Eskil and Thorstein returned home at the height of the second summer since Sigulf's death. The news had been sent south through the trade routes, but no one had truly trusted it to reach them all the way in Constantinople, and no one knew if they had even gone all the way to the great city. Somewhere word must have reached them, though, because one day they rode into the yard, skins burnt hazel by the sun and with golden streaks in their hair, both draped in well-worn cloaks of emerald and crimson.

They had both changed more than the three years they'd grown older. Thorstein had grown into his limbs and his old resemblance to an excited puppy had shifted to that of a well groomed young man of good humour. He had let his straight, brown hair grow long, and his beard was kept short on the sides, front shaped to a point. He got off his horse, landing with some actual weight now, ready to greet his mother who came running from the chicken pen with eggs still in her apron. But the deepest change was in Eskil. The hair that used to reach his waist was now cut little longer than shoulder length. He had a new scar running down the left side of his jaw, leaving a line through the beard from his cheekbone down, and paired with a new slight limp on the same side. His whole stance was different, relaxed and open. The change was visible in his face too, and he looked at ease, eyes holding a mischievous twinkle not there when he left.

"Look at you, all grown men!"

Alfrida half laughed, half cried, trying to embrace them both.

"I have no words for how glad I am to have you home. Now, we must celebrate, we must prepare…"

But Eskil cut her off.

"Mother, I am all for a feast, but before anything else, I need to speak to Kildevi. Do you know where I can find her?"

"She's down by the smithy, but you should find your father first. We have news!"

"No, that is exactly what I shan't do. Thank you! I'll be back!"

With that he kissed her forehead and set off towards the smithy.


Kildevi stood bent over the tansy that grew behind the old smithy, when someone said her name behind her. She knew the voice, but it took a few seconds for her to place it. Then she spun around, dropping the apron so the yellow flowers fell to the ground around her.

"Eskil!"

She took a few running steps towards him, then suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. He looked… good, of course. Different. The same, but yet not.

"You're home, you came!"

"Yes, of course we did. There is a time for play and a time for duty, and our playtime had come to an end."

Tilting her head, she said, "You're home to take Sigulf's place."

"In some ways, but not necessarily all."

She waited, eyes guarded. He turned his face towards the treetops around them.

"When I meet my father, he is going to make me an offer for you. It would solve not one, but two of his problems: How to keep you here, and how to make sure that I don't settle in a faraway land. I've had time to think long and hard about this on my way back, but I don't want to go into negotiations with him without talking to you first."

He paused, but when she stayed silent he continued.

"I don't dislike the arrangement. Even apart from your knowledge and name, you are a good woman and I think we could work well together. But, all of that would be null and void if we weren't honest about what we were actually offering."

He paused again.

"This is where you say something."

"No, I am listening. I want to hear you out."

He nodded.

"I am not done with Miklagard. I'm not returning this year, but at some point I will go back, just for two or three years or so. I am not done with playing forever."

He looked at her, trying to read her reactions. She looked… relieved?

"That sounds reasonable. No man stays at home all the time."

"If something should happen to my mother, that means that you would run this homestead, possibly without much help. I know you can, but do you want to?"

"Isn't that what wives do?"

"It is. But maybe not alone for many years to an end, not knowing if I will come back at all."

"Anything else?"

He scratched his head,

"I know your marriage to my brother was a love match. Don't get me wrong, once you're mine, you're mine. I'll care for you, work beside you and protect your name as my own. But whatever we may have in the end will be built over time, not struck like lightning. Maybe I won't be the husband you have come to expect."

"I don't want that again, I promise."

"How so?"

"When did you go and become wise?"

Eskil gave her a sideways smile.

"It's been a long three years. With all that said, I want you to think carefully about whether or not you want me to take my brother's place."

"Yes, if that is what you want."

His eyebrows flew up in surprise.

"It is, but that was too quick an answer. At least take a moment to consider my offer."

"You are not the only one who has had time to think, and time has not stood still here either."

He nodded.

"I should have realized you'd know this was coming. Did he leave any children?"

"No. I lost one that same winter I lost its father."

She brushed a few stray leaves off her apron and walked over to the bench outside the smithy, overlooking the stream.

"Come, sit down with me."

Eskil followed, and they sat for a few moments, watching the sun play over the surface of the water. At last, Eskil broke the silence.

"So, how have you been?"

He grimaced.

"I'm sorry, that was a stupid question. You've become a widow half a year after your wedding. Don't answer it, just talk to me."

"I will. But I will start somewhere else."

He turned to her and nodded, she looked away.

"There is another reason I accept being given on to you. I had a foretelling in the smokehouse before I went out to meet the hag. It was one of my first, maybe the first one that was really clear."

Eskil didn't say anything, just waited for her to continue.

"I told Sigulf that we would have what we need when we needed it, and that the fire would be tamed by a hearth where it could warm the house without burning it down."

"Sounds more like wisdom than foretelling."

"Maybe, but back then I wasn't that wise on my own."

She paused.

"I thought it was about him, but I don't anymore. It wasn't for his ears, it was for mine. I think the ones who would have our needs met were me and my whispering fylgja, she and I the fire, you and I the hearth. Maybe I needed Sigulf to put me on my path, but someone else to walk it with."

He shook his head.

"I don't understand. Explain it to me."

"You weren't here. Let's just say he burned too hot for the hearth to hold."

She sighed.

"He said many things about you that ultimately were about his own fears. In his defense, I think he believed every word."

"Like what?"

"Like that you never wanted a wife, you just wanted to beat him."

Eskil smiled, ruefully.

"He wasn't all wrong. I wanted to see Miklagard before I settled, and I did really want to beat him."

"That you were proud and only cared about how women adored you. That you tried to turn my head just to spite him, but would lose interest and abandon me as soon as you had me."

He shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed.

"I can't promise that wouldn't have happened if you had turned out to be the hapless, helpless maiden we both thought you were. You became infinitely more interesting once I learned what you could do."

She sighed again.

"Even if he was right about you, his own pride was so brittle he couldn't see clearly. All the way to the end he thought I was turning away. It drove him mad."

Eskil shook his head.

"How is that possible? You didn't have to marry anyone after breaking the curse, and still you chose to go through with him."

"I don't know. I guess he was the idiot I sometimes accused him of being."

Eskil chuckled.

"He was, wasn't he?"

"You feel no resentment about being second?"

"In general? More than you know. In this case, I have chosen to see it as winning the game in the end."


They sat silent again, until finally he turned and smiled. She noted that he smiled a lot more now than he used to, and that each time his new scar was moving up and down his jawline.

"I did bring something back for you. Something more worthy than your previous dowry and morning gift."

Kildevi slapped his shoulder.

"I'll have you know that two of the hens are still alive, and Thorlev gifted me the bear tooth."

"Glad to hear it, but I'm afraid your old bride price wasn't even close to your worth, and a dowry of six speckled hens not much to support you when I die. The only reason your mundr was set so low was because our father paid it to himself, but that is not how things will be this time. So, the dowry has to be complemented and your morning gift will be more of the size you'd expect as your father's daughter."

"So, what is it?"

"I brought two crates of silk for you, and sold them on our way home. Each of them brought silver enough to put off remarrying for a few years and still keep you in good standing. One of them is your dowry, half of the other will become your morning gift."

She frowned.

"That is… Incredibly generous. But none of this has been negotiated yet, you don't know what Thorlev would consider reasonable. You could probably have cut it in half - or more."

He lent forward, arms on his knees, and squinted up at her.

"The morning gift and mundr are both set from the worth I put on you, so I calculated on the safe side. If you agreed, I wouldn't want to start our life together with an insult."

She stared at him for just a moment too long, then quickly hid behind a new question.

"And the half-crate not yet accounted for?"

"Will be yours when our first son is born. If we have no sons, it's to be a part of our daughters' dowries."

"You have really thought this through."

He shrugged.

"The mundr is more complicated. I had to pay a law-man to sort it out and didn't understand most of the back and forth."

He snorted.

"You do understand that if we wed, we can't divorce until we have a son over sixteen to inherit us. This is already too complicated."

"Good, that means you have to give me no cause. Do you think Alfrida had something in mind when she set the terms?"

Eskil shook his head.

"No, I think she just thought on her feet. But she clearly doesn't have your gift for foretelling, or we wouldn't be in this legal nightmare."

"Do you mean the other half? Of the bride price?"

"Yes, that's the part where I needed the law-man. As soon as any one of us fathers a daughter, the other half will be paid by you, from Sigulfs inheritance, to our father. But that means by me, because I will be your husband. If that doesn't happen, I will also have to pay it in full, but for some reason I can't fathom, it'll be very different."

"Alfrida didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Your sister was born two summers ago. We should go back for you to see her."


Sigrunn was a delightful child, unless you liked your sleep, or looking at anything but her for a second. About two years old, she was constantly toddling about, only still for a few moments when she occasionally slept. The younger of her brothers were tasked with keeping an eye on her, but they often lost her and she was later found in the pigsty or the granary, and on one memorable occasion on the roof of the henhouse. Having lived the first two years of her life as the centre of everyone's attention, she was none too happy about two big bacrauts bumbling in, stealing her limelight. Eyes set on revenge, she climbed up on the bench next to one of them, licked the pretty red wool on his shoulder and bit down - hard. Then her own scream filled the longhouse.

Is it an omen to bite out your last incisor on the bloodied cloak of a Varangian mercenary? If so, Sigrunn was already hungry for her destiny.


Kildevi saw Anund on her way to the paddock and stopped to shout and wave.

"Anund! Anund! They're back!"

"Who?" He shouted back.

"Eskil! Thorstein! They're back!"

Anund wasn't one for smiling, but she noticed that his face lit up.

"That is good news, Sister Bear! Are they well?"

"Very, but they are asking for you."

He joined her where she stood waiting for him, and they walked together back towards the houses.

"So, is Mother planning one feast or two?"

Kildevi gave him a suspicious glance.

"Two, by now. Why would you ask that?"

Anund squinted at her, then at the sun behind her.

"They want to secure you."

"With no curse holding you back, I can't be that important."

"Not you, your fylgja. Father has nine children, he doesn't have to choose between securing you and securing connections, and he'll keep you to the very last one of us."

"But I have nowhere else to go anyway!"

They walked in silence for a few steps before Anund replied.

"People know, now. You are no longer just Kildevi, you are the fair haired maiden breaking the curse of Thorlev Sigulfson. You are the sadly widowed heroine who battles jotunn and foretells the future, and no one here wants some jarl or another to ride in and give you to a hopeless fifth son for the novelty."

"I have never fought a jotunn! And Thorlev could just say no."

"He can and he has. But with some families, blood might flow for the insult. Better tie you to one of us before that happens. You and your fylgja, and your seiðr, and your galdr. "

"I… I had no idea there had even been offers."

A suspicion struck and her eyes narrowed.

"You aren't just happy to see your brothers, are you?"

Anund didn't reply.

"You are relieved because you won't be the one stuck with me!"

Now, Anund smiled.


Eskil had barely spent a day at home since his return, instead he had gone between the dwellings of more or less distant family and friends, paying visits and bearing news as well as gifts. It took him about three weeks to settle into the house again, and when he did he chose a place among his brothers, making no move to rest with her, or even touch her, before everything was settled. Kildevi wasn't sure how she felt about that, torn between the relief of her bed being hers a while longer and disappointment of his lack of interest. Now they were sitting outside the longhouse watching Thorstein and Holmger play swords in the yard. The swordsmen had a good foot between them in height, and Thorstein visibly held back, now and then pretending to trip and fall.

"Thorstein seems to have thrived."

Eskil snorted.

"In more ways than you know. He started flirting at a market stand in Birka, once we reached Staraya Ladoga he was good at it, and had a nose for finding bored wives with their husbands away. He left cheated husbands and enraged fathers all the way down the rivers. "

"Thorstein?"

"You had to be there to believe it. That man has no fear of rejection and no shame in his body."

Kildevi pondered this for a moment, watching the play-fight unfold in front of them.

"He has grown into himself, I have to give him that."

"Don't look too hard, you're betrothed to me now, remember? He can find his own ashen vǫlva, or just sit back and wait for me to die."

She tensed as her chest fluttered with old alarm, but there was no shadow over his eyes and she forced herself to relax again.

"Worried?"

"Not for you, but Elfrid hasn't been following me around since we got back. I've reminded Thorstein that seduction is unlawful here, but I would keep an eye on her if I were you."

"Elfrid? They've known each other for years. Why now?"

Eskil made a resigned gesture towards his younger, taller brother who had swooped up the helpless fourteen-year old Holmger and thrown him over his shoulder.

"Would you have considered him before? Now look at him. And he's grown bad at sleeping alone for long."


"What are you doing out here with us? Really."

Thorstein was pulling his sleepskins straight, then rose to wring his tunic over his head. Eskil peered up at him.

"We're not married yet."

Thorstein rolled his eyes.

"You could be in there with her right now, you know. No one would bat an eye. You've just got a month to go to the wedding and no one expects one of you to run off. Just go lie with her so we don't have to watch your miserable blanket move every single night."

Eskil threw a shoe at him.

"I'm not the only one with a moving blanket, bacraut, but I might be the only one with some principles left."

"You're the only one with a bed to go to, anyway."

Eskil looked to the right across the midship where Kildevis bed stood open and empty.

"But I'm not, yet. She's our brother's widow, I don't think she wants me in there until she has to."

Thorstein snorted.

"Yeah, because women are known to kick you out of bed. Just go for it."

"She's got her guard up about something."

Thorstein paused in his undressing and looked down on his big brother.

"So, how are you going to get around it?"

"I'm struggling with that."

"Manly fervor?"

"Not after my stupid comments."

Thorstein kept a straight face.

"You gave her six hens for that."

"Yes, but she took it as a threat, you know. She told me so to my face."

"No manly fervor then."

"Nope."

"Get a dark, curly wig?"

"She's in mourning, stupid."

"True, it's not her face you want to get wet."

"You're a dog, Thorstein. That's my wife you're talking about."

"Like you said, not yet. And thank you."


Kildevi softly drew her fingers over the wooden plate, feeling the evenness of every mark made in the surface. It was still just a stick, maybe a thumb length wide and a hand long, but it was beautifully made, with exactness in the drawings and clean lines in the runes.

"Thank you, you have prepared this well for me."

Anund nodded.

"Is this spell for you, or for him?"

"Me. He already seems charmed enough by his own fate."

"What exactly are you trying to do?"

"Prepare to feel joy again."

He searched her face, but didn't pose a question.

"It will weaken some memories."

"Do you need me?"

"I can sing this to life without a helper, but if you want to stay and take part, you are welcome to."


Even though this wedding took considerably longer to plan and prepare than her last, Kildevi was yet again struck by how much quicker everything was done and decided on when there was only one family to please. Negotiations were handled in a day, or rather just repeated in front of witnesses with Thorlev representing her and Eskil himself. Late in harvest, a mere half season after Eskils return she once again spent her last night in a bed of her own, sometimes shared by a house thrall for warmth but with no one to claim or question her. Who knew when she would have that freedom again?


Come midnight, she silently walked through a sleeping longhouse, undressed in her shift, knife and pouches at her belt. She hadn't cared to cover her hair. It was left to hang unbraided and uncombed, now reaching way below her belt again. The creatures she sought would not care, so why should she? Barefoot against the cold grass she walked out the back door toward the edge of the forest.

"Haven't you forgotten something?"

She jumped, then turned to stare at the familiar figure who stood in the doorway, sculpted face lit by the moon.

"You can't stop me. I won't let you."

"Stop you from what? Running around half naked at night? Nah, I'm just looking, and thinking about tomorrow."

He smiled, and gave her a quick once over.

"They told me you sacrificed your hair to Sigulfs pyre, but it looks good enough from here."

"I am what I am. You can't take it from me."

"Your hair? What are you talking about?"

"Aren't you here to stop me?"

"No! I just thought you could need a light."

He lifted his hand, showing her an unlit torch.

"Do you want me to light it for you?"

She shook her head, but she still looked cautious.

"The moon is bright. I can see better without."

"In that case, I hope you find what you seek."

With that, he shot her a last glance and disappeared back into the house.


And like that, she once again found herself in the bathhouse on a Friday morning with Alfrida and Alfjir. There were considerably fewer comments and advice this time, and it was a relief to follow the rituals with no pretense of maidendom. They were accompanied by Gunnlaug, a young woman who was the second wife of Thorlev's younger brother's eldest son, and had been recruited by Alfrida the night before 'so not everyone bathing you could be a grandmother'. The girl was so silent, they easily could have forgotten she was there if not for her artful skills with combs and needles, and she knotted and sewed Kildevis pale strands into an intricate pattern of braids and twists before fastening the bride crown on her head.

"Well, look at you!" said Alfrida, who had been fastening the crown last time with considerably less skill. "What a difference an artful hand can make!"

Kildevi grimaced.

"And isn't that a relief? I feel that I need all the help I can get. Thank you, Gunnlaug."

"Yes, it's rough on a girl when the groom is prettier than her," said Alfjir with her usual bluntness. "But at least he has that cut to his face now, good thing you didn't pick him first, eh?"

Gunnlaug looked horrified. Alfrida cleared her throat and put a comforting arm around Kildevis' shoulders.

"You look beautiful. He's not there to outshine you, you are both there to shine together - and you will."

She lent closer, whispering.

"Things will be different this time, I promise."


But Kildevi felt outshined. Maybe it was the doubt that fluttered in her stomach, maybe just the fact that she had been wanted by exactly one man in the twenty years since her birth, but she felt like a shadow beside him. The men hadn't spared any efforts and Eskils shoulder long hair was skilfully oiled and lightened, the beard perfectly shaped to highlight the beauty of his face, and his necklace and bracelets shone cold against the warm gold of his hair and skin. It got only slightly better after they raced from the glade to the hall, when wild running had left him a bit tousled and the kohl a little smeared around the eyes, but it wasn't exactly with confidence that she filled the goblet with mead in front of everyone and gave him to drink.

"I am sorry I talked to you like that last night" he mumbled as they sat down next to each other. "That is not how I see you. That's not how I'll treat you."

And with that courteous comment he took back the only sign of interest he'd ever shown her. He'd told her straight up that this was purely an arrangement of practicality, but the implications of that slowly started to sink in. The way he seemed to down goblet after goblet stirred other old fears that made her insides twist and turn. It was with a visibly heavy heart she let the women lead her to bed, strip her of her clothes and leave her to wait.


When Eskil came, he brought a lot more than the six customary witnesses. Through the heavy curtains, she heard the old longhouse fill up from the hall, and soon the drape was pulled open and Eskil climbed in, naked apart from his undershirt. Halfway in, he stopped and turned to the gathered crowd.

"Is there anyone here who can recognize me?" he shouted over the noise and was met with merriment.

"I don't" shouted Thorstein's voice.

"That's because you've drunk too much!"

Eskil shouted back, before he closed the curtain around them, gave her a wink and climbed down into the bed beside her. She suddenly realized he wasn't half as drunk as he pretended to be. He took the goblet she offered, but he didn't drink from it, he just held it, running his finger around the top and down the decorated handles. Through the thick cloth of the bed curtain, they heard the feast continue outside. A clear young voice was singing - probably Svein who had finally settled into his new register and was known to carry a tune well. Kildevi listened, then tried to hold back a smile.

"I didn't know that he knew songs that… descriptive."

Eskil swirled the mead around in the goblet and smiled back.

"He's probably yearning to take my place - and I bet that goes for Holmger too now."

She felt herself tense, suddenly wary again.

"I'm not so sure about that. I'm not that special."

"He's a shy eighteen, you don't have to be."

Looking up, she realized he had been joking. Now he gave her a questioning look.

"All offense was aimed at them. I promise. I just remember being that young, sitting half drunk outside a wedding bed thinking hard about everything that went on inside. And I'm pretty sure my imagination had reality beat."

"I know. I'm just … Tense. This feels strange."

"It is. Talking dowries is one thing, finally sitting here naked is another."

He took a small sip from the goblet, then gave it to her.

"But I'm sure I can help you get through this ordeal. You know what? If you just close your eyes, I can make it be over before you know it."

She blinked.

"What?"

"I mean, it's just an offer, it doesn't have to be over in three heartbeats. And you can have your eyes open, I suppose. If you feel brave."

Kildevi tilted her head and frowned.

"You're teasing me."

Eskil smiled.

"Yes, I am. And myself, but mostly you. It's not my first time in bed with a woman, and I'm pretty sure you're not a maiden, all things considered."

He moved closer until his shirt hung down between them, tickling her.

"After all, I've been told I'm not repulsive, and you, you look as if your skin tastes of milk and honey."

She raised her eyebrows, sceptically.

"Milk and honey."

"I picked up some love poetry in Constantinople, it's not at all like what we have at home. It's very complicated, some of it quite weird and could probably be considered spells if cast by a more skilled magician than me, but used on a hesitant wife… "

"I am not that hesitant!"

"Are you not, my bird? My singing canary, calling me to her guarded chamber! And here, she awaits, her flower smelling of sweet nectar between creamy thighs, and I! A bee! Let me devour thee! "

"A bee?! "

"Kiss me, or I'll continue."

"Are you threatening me with roman poetry?"

"Roman? No, I'm making this up as I go along. I will count to five, if you haven't kissed me by then, you know what's coming. 1-2-3-4-whatareyouwaitingfor-"

Finally, she lost her fight against the laugh that threatened to break free.

"You. I want another poem. Can I be a flower?"

"No no no, you can't be a flower, you have a flower! It's always called a flower, or a kitten, and that one time a newly hatched chicken, but I am not sinking my ivory staff in poultry if I can have a flower dripping with nectar, so…"

She cut him off with her lips. The kiss was awkward, but not unpleasant.

"Didn't you want another poem?"

"It was the poultry. If your ivory staff ever wants to consummate this marriage you can't afford another chicken."


He carefully pulled the pins from her crown and took it off her head, then bent down to kiss her again. This time it felt less awkward. He was lighter to the touch, lips softer, tongue sharp and controlled, and without jealousy she wondered how many he had practiced on. Probably quite many. Perhaps he hadn't exactly yearned to be there with her, but he didn't seem to mind it now, and she felt him harden against her thigh as the kiss intensified in fervor. Her body suddenly reminded her that it was starved for touch, desperate from almost three years without, only counting the playful. What took him so long? Trying to wrap her leg around his hips for encouragement she realized he was holding her off.

"How are you doing in there, Eskil?" A voice shouted from outside. "Do you need help?"

"Shut up Thorstein, your time will come!"

This was met with laughter from the revelers outside.

"That goes for you too," he whispered. "We'll get there, sooner or later."

Her eyes widened as his lips brushed over her skin on the way down her neck.

"What are you doing?!"

It came out louder than she expected and was met with a low laugh from above.

"I take it my late brother never was one for patience."

His finger dipped in the mead, then drifted down to her breast, circling the nipple without touching it.

"And you don't seem to need it. Good to know, if I'm ever in a rush. But I didn't come to this banquet starving, so I am not."

Rising to his knees above her, he pulled the shirt over his head. Peeking out through the thick curtains he threw it to the revelers and was met with general cheer.

"So, where were we?"

"You were bragging about eating before dinner."

He lost the teasing smile.

"I did, didn't I? But I am serious. It's our first night of many in this bed, and I haven't even seen what you look like yet."

"I'm right here, look all you want."

"I don't know what you feel like…"

He put his finger on her lower lip, slowly drawing a line down to her navel.

"I don't know what you taste like..."

He bent down, following the same line up with the tip of his tongue until he reached her lips again.

"And now?" she whispered.

"You do me back."

"And then?"

"Then we improvise until one of us is begging and pleading. I bet you break first."

"And then?"

"Then we show the drunkards outside what a feast should sound like."


He was right. She broke first. Which might have been a good thing since she paid no mind to the running commentary from outside until she fell down over him, sweaty, sated and very, very tired.

"Are you done yet? We have a casket waiting!"

Softly, Eskil turned, and she rolled down beside him on the bolster. He stuck his head out into the room, and was met with cheers and hoots.

"We won't be done until the feast week ends. Just open it, Alfjir, we're not coming out again!"

Closing the curtains, he nestled down between the skins and the blankets, pulling her to his side.

"So, that was that."

"Mhm."

"I'm glad you didn't take me up on my offer."

Kildevi replied with the snort it deserved.

"Did you want to join them?"

She shook her head. They lay there for a while in the warmth of the bed watching the flame of the lamp flicker.

"Eskil?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about Miklagard."

Silent for a moment, he stared up at the stars through the smoke rift above them.

"She's a jewel. A labyrinth of stone and mortar. At the markets, the air smells of flowers and spices from even more faraway lands, rolls of cloth as thin as petals are bought and sold, brooches of gold and silver, beads of glass so clear you can see right through them. You see tradesmen of every colour, raven blue Africans and olive skinned Greeks, dressed in silk of every hue under the sun. At the eastern shore, you can sit and watch the sun rise where the Bosporus meet the sea of Marmara, and if you turn your head you see it glitter on the dome of Hagia Sophia."

"I don't understand half of what you just said, but it sounds… Do they have spákonur and galdurers there?"

"All manners of gods are worshiped there if you know where to look. The hall of Hagia Sophia is a temple to Kristi, the only god of the land, but in the back alleys and behind the markets, you will find wizards and spirit whisperers, cults of old gods and new, magic amulets of warriors from the south and east."

"I wish I could come with you when you go back."

"It's a dangerous road. Men died on the rivers. The only woman I saw on the ships who wasn't a hag or a slave was guarded, day and night."

"We should be able to find some men willing to go to Miklagard."

"We are not talking about this."

He didn't sound angry, just softly stating a fact.

"But I did bring you one more gift. Something from Miklagard, not sold for silver."

"What?"

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

 

[Alvlin]

"Pst. Kildevi!"

She woke up sweaty with a hairy chest sticking against her back, and someone whispering warm breath in her ear. Eskil was pushing himself up on his elbow, peering down on her from behind, hair set aflame by a ray of morning sun from the smoke rift above them.

"Mm."

"Are you awake?"

"Mm."

"I have a question. It's stupid, so I ask before everyone else wakes up."

"Mm?"

"Do you… feel anything after last night?"

"In need of a bath. Why?"

"No… Nothing else?"

"Content and a bit hungry?"

"You're not… loaded in any way?"

"What?"

"I mean… no spirit visitors? No nightly journeys?"

She looked at him, expecting signs that he was joking, but found none. He looked genuinely worried.

"Are you asking me if every bout in the marital sack will leave me open for sejðr?"

"Well, yes."

"How long have you been awake thinking about this?"

"A while."

"No, there is a difference. The goals are different, my mind is different, the whole… thing is different. About as different as sacrifice is to slaughter."

"So, I don't have to worry about overloading you with your own magic?"

She stared at him.

"Oh, how I wish that I had your confidence."

"I just don't want to do something to you by accident."

"You can't. You can't hurt me."

"But…"

"No. That time, Sigulf was just a tool, something tearing down my defenses, leaving my hamr weak enough for my hugr to break free for the first time. After your intricate tricks last night, I don't even think you would have enjoyed it very much."

"But you said… That time, before I left. You said that horrible magic might come of someone taking you by force, so I assumed…"

"That would be called on by me, because I would have destroyed you."

"Oh."

"Was there anything else?"

"Are you always this grumpy in the mornings?"


They had woken up early, which left them a long time to stay in bed to wait for everyone else to rise, prepare and gather to greet them. Eskils fingers seemed to be slowly but constantly on the move, twisting her hair, circling her navel, walking tic-tac-toe up her side, following the sharp line of her shoulder blades and never, ever stopping. She waited for some sort of escalation that never came, more and more tense trying to figure out what reaction he expected of her and what would happen to his mood if she failed to deliver it. Sigulfs shadow had moved in and out of her mind for the last few days, and right now it lay so heavy on her she had to shoot a glance behind her back to remind herself that his younger brother was fairer, lighter to the touch and nowadays endlessly more of a jester. Finally, she managed to say something.

"What are you doing?"

"Just exploring."

"Didn't you explore enough last night?"

He didn't look up, fully focused on trailing the side of her neck down to the shoulder.

"I haven't woken up with a bed companion since I left Miklagard, and I've never woken up with you before."

"I thought you said you didn't come here starving?"

"Doesn't mean I've been feasting for a good while."

She looked away, staring into the bed curtain.

"You made me believe this would mainly be a practical arrangement."

He stopped his trailing and rose on his elbow, looking down at her.

"Judging by last night, that ship has sailed."

When that didn't spark a reaction, he sighed.

"I thought that if we used this week and the coming honey-moon in the best way possible, we'd have a good chance of getting that warming hearth you mentioned. If you just want me to let you run my household and then show up once a week to try and put a child in you… Well, I will, but that would be making the worst out of a good situation."

"I didn't say that. I just don't know what you want from me."

"Right now I want to learn what every part of you feels like so I don't crawl into a bed in the dark and accidentally lay down with the wrong woman."

"Are you ever serious?"

"Not until you let your guard down."

Her mouth twitched.

"Look, made you smile!"

She surrendered and turned to face him again.

"So, how do you propose we spend the rest of the wedding week?"

"Last night was a good start."

"We can't stay in here for six days!"

His eyes furrowed.

"We can't? Maybe you're right. Then we'll start by letting our nosy family wash and dress us, after that I have a few tiny presents that I hope you'll like and then… I guess we'll have to talk to each other. Take a bath. Eat some apples. Sing a few songs, tell a few stories."

He rolled over on his back, stretching out his arm for her to lean on.

"You should come watch me win the grapple, but don't bother showing up for the tuga honk. I'll win that too, of course, but in a less obvious way so I don't want you watching."

She laughed, pushing herself up on her elbow.

"You don't have to impress me, you know, the deal is already made and closed."

"That is just lazy thinking! Did you know that uncle Svein - not to be confused with Svein-the-youngest - failed to impress his second wife so badly she refused to give him real beer and started serving him the weak stuff she gave the children?"

"No, I didn't know that! How did it go?"

"He raged and roared, but she refused to give him the key to the stock room. Finally he gave in and manned up. But I learned from his lesson and will do my best to avoid his fate."

"I promise not to withhold your beer if you lose in tuga honk."

"Thank you. See, this is already going well!"


Finally, they heard the gathering come in from the yard, filling the house, before Alfrida pulled aside the curtain and they were carried away to be washed and dressed. Most of the guests seemed to have slept, but some, like Alfjir, seemed to just have kept going through the night.

"It melted an old hags heart to hear you last night my girl, made me miss my Thord, it did," she said as the gathering of women made their way towards the bathhouse.

"Thord, was that the third? Or second?" asked a red haired woman of some and twenty who Kildevi vaguely remembered to be one of Thorlev's cousins.

"Ah, the second. Kolgrim the elder was too old a man for such a feat, even though I was just the right age of a woman. Just you wait and see, the older you get…" She winked.

"Go and sleep it off, Alfjir," came Alfridas voice from behind, "before you say something you regret."

"Hah! Hasn't happened in 20 years! Trust me, my girl, at twenty you care, at six o'tens you don't. At my age… Let an old hag have her fun, eh."


But Alfjirs fun aside, Kildevi soon found herself bathed and back in her best overdress, woad blue wool with woven bands of oak-and-walnut silk, keys, knife and needle case hanging from her buckles, a cat skin stole and the amulets below her pearls showing her status as a seer. Gunnlaug once again helped with her hair, this time twisting the wifely veil closely around the bun of braids before she dressed it with a bronze band circling her head. The insecurity of yesterday gone, Kildevi felt regal. It was a first small taste of that absolute confidence that seemed to give Alfrida her authority. Back straight and head high, she was led back to the hall and her seat.


The men had gathered in the old longhouse, most of them drinking and eating breakfast while Thorstein acted adjunct and ceremoniously prepared his now eldest brother for his first day as a married man.

"So, me and Svein and cousin Thorald have a bit of a bet going…"

Thorstein had just pulled the tunic over Eskils head, and now he was fumbling with the brooch to close the slit.

"We heard her say something about bees in a shocked voice, and then just a bit later 'what are you doing?!' "

"Yep."

"What were you doing?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Come on! Doesn't blood mean anything to you?"

"Thorstein. You're all my blood."

"Exactly, so help us out here."

"First of all, it involved a bee."

"And…"

"And that's all you're getting. Hey, don't stab me with that pin!"

"Do you want me to take over?" Thorlev suggested from the bench where he sat talking to the rest of the men, watching the groom getting dressed.

"Soon. I don't trust this one with my hair."

Thorstein grinned.

"It was an accident."

"Sure it was."

"Don't worry, I'll happily leave your hair to Father. Soon you'll both make maidens swoon as you pass them on your way home to wives who are just not that impressed with your pretty faces anymore, so it's only fair he has a hand in this."

"Careful, Thorstein. You're old enough to have your words challenged!"

Thorstein made a bow towards the table.

"I am sorry father, of course mother still swoons every time you walk by, putting tiny charms under your pillow in the hope you'll notice her. A true swooning maiden, our mamma."

In the ensuing laughter Thorstein turned to Eskil again.

"Speaking of, it sounded like you solved the riddle in time."

"Yep."

"No manly fervor?"

"Nope, just verse."

"You started spitting stanzas in bed?"

"Just silly poetry."

"How silly?"

"Silly enough to use for both laugh and leverage."

"Your bride laughed at you in bed? That's harsh."

"I'm sure you heard when that changed."

Thorstein threw an eye towards the table where some fifteen elder relatives sat, talking again but some probably still listening.

"It sounded like a lot of hard work for someone who will share your bed every night anyway."

Eskil smirked.

"Three things. I'll try to put this in terms your young and simple mind can grasp. One, a good investment towards future interest. Two, the ghost of a brother briskly beaten. Three, she leaves her body to go between worlds and fight so hard the hamr she left behind has scars. Last night, she was begging and pleading for me. Write me a song about that."

"You feel like a man now?"

"Yep."

Thorstein's face split in a genuine grin.

"Good for you, brother. Congratulations!"


The hall was at its finest again, clean and decorated, with two seats put up for them at the short end. The goblet, the bread and the hammer followed them through each and every ritual of this celebration week, and when Kildevi entered she offered him the goblet to drink from again before she sat down. She noted that they had changed his clothes, and couldn't help but wonder what had happened with the ones he wore yesterday. What accident could have occurred between when she last had seen him at the feast and his grand entrance to the bed? Either way, he drank and smiled and sat down at her right side, putting his hand over hers on the armrests.


When the coffers that held her promised morning gift had been blessed and given, he rose and Thorstein took two steps forward to hand over a small leather bag. From it, Eskil drew a row of claws and teeth, but it was of no animal that she recognized.

"These," he said for the whole hall to hear, "are the fearsome parts of a lion. I saw the beasts many times in Miklagard, and was sometimes likened to one, so it is only fit that you should have your own, both as a symbol of my protection and as teeth and claws to carry with you as you walk in places where I can not follow."

As he lent closer to fasten the row between the straps of her smokkr, he whispered, "I remember that the bear tooth hung above you when your hugr was lost. Maybe one day this can guide you home."


"I am starting to get suspicious," Kildevi told Alfrida when games had started up outside and they found each other alone. "First he supplies me with a dowry from his own coffers, then a mundr of double the size of what I think Thorlev would have set, the morning gift is lavish and now an amulet of a strange beast… I don't know what to make of the grand gestures."

"Make of? Just revel in them. His father went on a three year quest for me, and he has, in some ways, always been his father's son." She leant closer. "I think it pains him that he can only give you silver and a lion, when his father gave his mother a quest of manhood."

"But Thorlev chose to pursue you out of a line of many, Eskil more or less had me dumped in his lap. Some would call your beginnings a great story, ours… isn't as easily put into song."

Alfrida snorted.

"Maybe, but he also had great use of me in his ambitions to become something much more than the son of a builder, and remember that many men of legend had wives with powerful knowledge like yours. I don't think it's a coincidence that Eskil puts in so much more thought and effort now than ever he did to just beat his brother for a maiden."

"And what you said there is too prosaic. Can't we find a middle ground?" Kildevi said, only half in jest.

Alfrida laughed and put her hand on the cheek of her daughter in law.

"Oh, Kildevi, I sometimes forget you weren't raised for wifehood. The key to a life with ambitious men, you know, is to realize it isn't that they either love you or use you to climb, but rather that they will love you for what you make them, not least in their own eyes. The more he lifts your worth, the more he himself will be a man worthy of such a wife in the eyes of others. Don't underestimate his vanity."

"I am not sure I understand all of what you just said, but this far, we have fun."

Alfrida tilted her head.

"And you don't have to think about the meaning of all that now, just hold your head high and let him shower you with attention and grand gestures. Then one day when he complains about something he thinks you should have done, you reply, 'Once upon a time you gave me a lion, and now you blame me for a missing shoe? Have I fallen so far from your grace?'"

Kildevi laughed.

"I hear that I have a lot to learn."

"Yes, that's what mothers are for."


Later that day, Eskil didn't win the grapple, but he did come in a good second after Thogard, who was bigger and older and once got in Thorlev's sold because he had won a grappling contest. As promised, he did not win the tuga honk in any obvious ways, but almost drowned his cousin in swimming, so Kildevi decided he had deserved his beer for now.


On the third night of their wedding, Eskil stayed out in the hall for a formal roast against Thorstein when Kildevi retreated to the old longhouse. It was still a feast week, after all. He hadn't meant to be this late, and somewhere in the back of his mead-addled mind a tiny voice told him that he might be too late for whatever marital duties he still hoped to perform and perfect. Silently, he slipped out of his tunic and trousers, then he opened the curtain to see if there was a point in taking off more, or if he should just take a shortcut to tomorrow by sleeping in the rest. He saw the promising gleam of her open eyes in there, then looked down, and…

"You're sleeping with my brother?"

"Hush, don't wake him up."

Someone had started to laugh down at the open benches, and it spread down the row of half sleeping family and their closest guests. Alfrida and Thorlev looked out behind their curtain just in time to hear:

"You're sleeping with two of them?!"

"This is nothing!" Kildevi wheezed back. "Sometimes they just come here, one after the other, sometimes I sleep with three of your brothers at the same time!"

Eskil heard Svein and Thorstein die in their corner.

"Unfair!" Thorstein called. "She never lets us in when we don't want to sleep alone!"

Eskil lent closer, somehow thinking he could still be smooth about this.

"Can't we just .. you know…" He not-very-discreetly nodded back towards where Geir and Thore usually slept, or at least went to sleep in the evenings.

"No."

"But…"

"Come to bed earlier next time."

"Now you know how your father felt for your first five years!" He heard his mother's voice from behind, and he started to wonder if any of this was really worth it.

"Can I at least come in to sleep?"

Graciously, Kildevi pulled the children closer to give him space. Sheepishly, he climbed in, and just a moment later Geir climbed out, leaving Thore with his head in Kildevis' belly, legs thrown over Eskil.

"So. How early do I have to be?"

She smiled and stroked the little boy's hair away from his face.

"You passed the test. Next time we move them."

"What test? And can't we move him now?"

"What kind of a husband you'll be. And we can, but everyone is still awake out there. Is it really worth making them laugh again?"

"I don't know. I'm thinking."

"He wakes up early. We'll be alone in the morning."

"Can't we make him, you know, sleep with his head up and feet down?"

"Good luck with that."


As she rose on the fourth day of the feast, Kildevi was still in a good mood, but she had a strange feeling in her body, a foreboding that she waved away as tiredness and too much food topped off with mead. Thus she took refuge in the outskirts of the farmhouses, a bit away from where most of the guests and family had gathered drinking and telling stories. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't see the man until he was right behind her, blocking out the sun as she half turned to see who had followed her. She had never seen him before. She was sure of it, because there was no way to forget this man, tall as a moose and with raven black hair slicked back into a braid. His beard was cut short over the cheeks, but reached down to his chest in front, the deep black streaked by silver. Behind him she noticed a small red haired figure disappear towards the feast. Good boy, Geir! The smallest ones had good instincts.

"So, you. You are the Vestsetter girl."

He grabbed her chin, turning her face left and right as if looking for something. "You don't look like Mavdnas blood."

Kildevi kept silent, heart beating so hard she was afraid it would flee out of her mouth if she opened it. The man bent down, his face so close she could feel his breath on her face when he spoke.

"Your sister told me you'd been taken to Norway and returned to your people. But there, a finn-witch told me you were on a boat to Iceland. So I went to Iceland. You have cost me three years of my life, girl."

Somewhere behind her, Kildevi heard the slight rasp of a blade drawn against the locket of a scabbard. Then she heard a familiar voice.

"Who in Hel's name are you?"

The man straightened

"Look. It's Thorlev's pretty son. Do you want your witch back?"

He grabbed Kildevi's shoulder and pushed her towards Eskil, who quickly had to let go of the half-drawn sword to catch her.

"Why don't you go fetch your treacherous father. I'm here to claim his hospitality."

 

[Alvlin]

Kildevi/Kiéldvé Thorvaldsdottir - a young sejðkona, seer, chieftain's daughter, widow, and orphan, 20.

The master and matron
Thorlev/Þorrleifr Sigulfson - a merchant and odal farmer, formally and legally Kildevis adopted father, 47.
Alfrida/Álfriðr Anundsdottir - his formidable and only wife, 44.

The brothers and the one sister
Eskil/Áskell Thorlevson - the pretty one with principles, 24.
Anund/Ǫnnundr Thorlevson - the horse whisperer and sejðmaðr in training, 22.
Thorstein/Þorrsteinn Thorlevson - the puppy gone full dog, 20.
Svein/Svéinn Thorlevson - the one with hidden talents, 18.
Holmger/Holmgerðr Thorlevson - the Good one, 14.
Asbjorn/Ásbjǫrn Thorlevson - the nosy spy and spreader of news, 11.
Thore/Þórre Thorlevson - the sleepwalker, 8.
Geir/Geirr Thorlevson - the one with the ginger curls, 5.
Sigrunn Thorlevsdottir - the wild one, 2.

At the homestead
Alfjir/Álfjir- Three times widowed, midwife, head of the largest tenant household, workwoman, older than 65, younger than 80.
Eirik/Eiríkr the housecarl - a housecarl, mid-20s.
Elfrid/Élfriðr- Daughter of a tenant farmer, workwoman, 16.
Olaf/Ólafr - a farmhand, around 20.
Thogard/Þorgarðr - a housecarl and grappling champion, mid-30s.

At the wedding
Gunnlaug/Gunnlaugr - second wife of Thorlevs younger brother's eldest son, a a silent girl with artful fingers, mid-teens.
Gudrun/Guðrún - wife of Ragnar, mother of Hrefna and Thora, early 30s.
Holmgrim/Holmgrímr- The crow. The man that Thorlev never liked, late 40s.
Hrefna/Hræfna Ragnarsdottir - a dutiful daughter of Ragnar, 15.
Ragnar from Nerrike - a merchant, old friend of Thorlev, mid-40s.
Svein/Sveínn Sigulfson - Thorlev's younger brother, once withheld his beer for not wanting to challenge an insult, mid-40s.
Thora/Þorra Ragnarsdottir - a fast-talking daughter of Ragnar, 13.
Thorald/Þóraldr Sveinson - a cousin, late teens.

Dead
Grim/Grímr Vibjornson - Kildevis uncle, lived in Thorvalds house.
Kolgrim the elder - Alfjirs third husband
Mavdna/Mávdná - Kildevis grandmother (amma), a Finn, a vǫlva, a spá-wife, a seiðkonur.
Sigulf/Sígulfr Thorlevson - Firstborn son of Thorlev and Alfrida. Kildevis first husband, killed by a boar.
Thore/þorre - Alfjirs second and favourite husband
Thorvald/Þorrvàlðr Vibjornson - Kildevis father, minor chieftain, son of Mavdna.
Vibjorn/Víbjǫrn Thorvaldson - Kildevis grandfather, Mavdnas husband.

Other
Heimlaug Thorvaldsdottir - Kildevis sister, married to a jemtish chieftain, 30

Extras
Thralls - slaves, ever present, seldom remembered.

 

[Alvlin]

Eskil led her back to the safety of gathered family and placed her firmly on a bench next to his mother. She watched him walk up to Thorlev. Words were exchanged, then Thorlev signalled to three of the men at the table and they all walked away from the gathering. She made a move to follow, but Eskil threw her an eye that told her clear as day that he didn't need any magic to curse her if she tried.

Deflated, she sunk down on the bench again. Her head spun. So much of what the stranger had said to her didn't make any sense. Why would Heimlaug say that she had been sent to Norway? They had hardly met since she was a small child, and when they did, there had been no love lost from her sister's side. Why would the Finns send him off the wrong way, to an island 3 days or 3 months away depending on the gods? And why would someone try so hard to find her in the first place?

She glanced at Alfrida. The older woman sat tense and straight as an arrow, looking the way the men had disappeared. She forced herself to look away, the mask back on, but as she laughed and talked, Kildevi saw the tension in her neck and how her eyes darted to where her attention actually was.

When the men returned, the giant and four other men came back with them. They had claimed hospitality, and so they stayed.


The four of them gathered in the horse paddock, Thorlev and Alfrida, Eskil and Kildevi. With both invited and uninvited guests filling the homestead, the natural nervousness of herd animals seemed to be the best protection against spying ears. Anund sat a few paces away, carving as usual. Kildevi knew he was listening, but none of the others seemed to consider his presence. She wondered how much more knowledge he had gathered from that ability to be unseen and forgotten. With that thought, she turned her attention to Thorlev.

"So, who is this Holmgrim? And what does he have to do with me?"

Thorlev stood silent for a long while before answering. Kildevi just waited. Just as Eskil started to shift and fidget, he began.

"Just before you were born, your grandmother read his fate, and what she told him made him… angry is an understatement. When his father died by your father's hand a few years later, he blamed her for that too. When he demanded reparations, she taunted him, threatened to bring down every fury she could find on his sorry head. Unforgivable insults were uttered. So he swore to hunt down every single one of her bloodline until the foretelling was changed or the last drop of her blood gone. When he made the raid at Vestsetter, he got your father, uncle and brothers, but he missed his most valuable target, Mavdna's actual heir. He has been looking for you since, because he thinks you can undo whatever he believes your grandmother did - and if not, you'd be the last known member of your father's line."

"But… you can't change a foretelling. It's something you see, not something you do."

Thorlev's expression was grim.

"The reason he wants you alive at all is because he believes you can."

"And also he's wrong, I'm not the last of my fathers line. Why would he leave my sister alive?"

Thorlev and Alfrida exchanged a look. Thorlev's voice was even lower when he continued.

"Have you ever wondered why she was allowed to live while all the other daughters were set out?"

"I always assumed my father only wanted to pay one dowry?"

"I have believed, for a long time, that Thorvald wasn't her father in anything but name. I think Heimlaug has nothing of your grandmother's blood in her veins. That's why she's never been a threat, and why both Thorvald and Holmgrim allowed her to live."

Kildevi frowned.

"It doesn't sound like my father to accept a bastard. It doesn't sound like him to let the mother live."

"Unless he planned it himself. His half brother was his closest man for many years."

Slowly fragments of memories and dreams started to come together in Kildevi's mind. Of course. Why hadn't she seen it? The only son ever not named had been born of Heimlaugs mother, his second wife, with Kildevis own mother the third. That was why Grim had been in her dream, he alone pointed out and named among the many children in her grandfather's house. She held onto that piece of information and gave Thorlev a suspicious glare.

"How do you know all this?"

"Are you sure you've never recognized me?"

Kildevi shook her head.

"Where from? I never left my father's land, remember?"

"Because you served me beer in your father's hall with your head bent not that long ago. And I remember a little girl with pale eyes who stood at Mavdna's side as she saw the fortune of our warband the same year Holmger was born. I wondered why there was such a small girl with your mother's face in a house where the only daughter was already betrothed. That was where all of this began."


Kildevi took a few moments to stare at the well known face.

"No. I don't remember you. My father gathered many men into his hall, and expected me to keep away."

She crossed her arms.

"But I still don't understand the role you play in this, or why you lied about it until now."

Thorlev lent closer, turning only to her when he spoke.

"Everything I did tell you was true. I openly said that I saw the chance to get my own curse lifted. It is also true that I genuinely despise Holmgrim and found some pleasure in thwarting him after he called in my oath and forced me to raid the home of a man I've followed. But I also saw my chance for grandchildren mixing my blood with that of Mavdna, and I still do. And for that blood to matter, my sons needed to father daughters."

Eskil stood frozen, staring at his father, but Thorlev carried on.

"So, when I saw you crawl through the meadow, everything just came together. It was… too easy. And you were still so much just a girl, no older than Thorstein, scared, alone, one moment threatening me with your belt knife, the next falling asleep with nothing but my word for security. So I decided to leave the rest to fate and see if it would draw you in any particular direction. One of those things was to see which of my sons you preferred, thinking your instincts would lead you right. And they did. I thought you would choose Eskil, like every girl from here to Jotunheim would, but you didn't. Instead you went with the one whose character made him willing to do what was needed."

"Hey! If something needs doing, I do it."

"That wasn't what I meant, son. I meant…"

Alfrida cut him off, her tone impatient.

"He meant that Sigulf saw how gullible she was and went on to seduce her."

A moment of uncomfortable silence followed.

"I wasn't completely dropped behind a wagon with women, you know."

Alfrida looked at Eskil just a bit too long before she replied.

"I am painfully aware of that. But you just barely bend rules, you don't break them, and all that time you just pranced around sounding like some Frankish courtier. You would never have so much as kissed a woman of your own standing without her family's permission, no matter how many lower women you went through on the side."

Eskil started to look uneasy .

"It wasn't actually…" Kildevi began, but Alfrida gave her a look and she closed her mouth again.

"You wouldn't have lured her out to the old smokehouse to enjoy as much as you could without really committing to anything. So, thus you didn't have the character to do what was needed to lead the girl into womanhood and wake her Sight. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong."

Eskil grimaced.

"Maybe not all wrong."

"Also, I can't believe that of all the things said here today, that was what you chose to question. I understand wanting to beat him in honorable pursuits, but dishonorable too?"

Thorlev cleared his throat.

"Be that as it may. Just know that no matter what I just told you, you have been a daughter of this household since you first set foot in the yard. Even if you were a bit too old to foster."

Alfrida gestured impatiently.

"That's all very nice and heartfelt, but we need to plan."

"Yes, Kærasta, and I have."

They had been married longer than she had been alive, but Kildevi noted that he still tried to soothe his wife with terms of endearment, even though it always had the opposite effect. This time though, Alfrida just crossed her arms and waited.
Thorlev turned to Kildevi.

"First of all, as long as they are here, you make sure you are always among our people. You don't go outside the farm, no walks in the woods, no working alone. Some man of the family will watch you at all times."

She nodded. Her belly felt loaded with stones.

"And if you find yourself alone with any of them, you don't talk. Just move away. Have you ever held a weapon?"

She shook her head. Thorlev sighed.

"Did your father worship Christ in secret?"

"No, why?"

"Never mind. But we will have to do something about that and get you a little bit used to staves and knives. Those are necessary skills you should have had from the beginning. Eskil, you and Alfrida will take care of that. It's not suspicious if you spend a lot of time together out of sight from other people. But not out of earshot. Understood?"

All three of them nodded.

"Good. I've talked to some of the guests, and my brother will leave one son behind, Alfridas' brother a son and two housecarls. Alfjir has lent us three men from dusk til dawn for as long as we need them, but they are still in the middle of harvest and can't be spared all day."

"Do you really think he would break the rules of hospitality?"

Thorlev snorted.

"Of course he would, if he could get away with it. I hope he's that stupid. Then we would be free to deal with them."


The newlyweds retreated to their bed, less ceremoniously now than on that first night, but they had yet to close the bed curtain without someone, somewhere, whistling and cheering. Tonight though, Kildevis' mind was preoccupied with something else than her shiny new husband, who quickly noticed that she lacked her prior enthusiasm and sat back against the pillows with a sigh.

"Ok, something is on your mind, and that something is not me. What is it?"

"How much of this did you know?"

"A little bit here and there…."

"Which bits?"

Eskil had started circling her palm with his finger, now he stopped and looked up.

"I overheard my parents talk. I knew that Father felt forced to join a raid he seemed to think unjust and too close to home, and that he hoped to bring back a daughter for one of us, one of a bloodline he deemed high and noble. I remember that it confused me, because bride robbery seemed a desperate move. I mean, cursed or not, we could always have settled lower, and if he was going to marry us to someone with no family connections, why not just tell us to find whatever woman we liked to bring home? There is no lack of women, or families, who would accept their sons being a bit cursed for the rise in status and comfort."

"I thought of that too. But if he believed the curse could be lifted it makes more sense."

"Yes, father has always been hungry to climb, as his father before him. Why else would a landowning craftsman build a hall to his longhouse?"

Eskil paused, frowning.

"I actually thought that was why he wanted daughters too. They're easier to marry upwards, especially if they're beautiful and carry themselves well. The best he could hope for any of us was to not marry us down."

He shrugged.

"Anyway, then he came back with you, and the game was on, all I focused on was Sigulf. I had no idea there was more to it than my father's quest for status. After all, you were the unknown daughter of a chieftain, and father claims that no one can look at you and not see your mother. I was just as shocked as everyone else when mother revealed what you are."

Kildevi grimaced. She felt sad, and tired.

"So, you both played a game for the chieftain's daughter without even knowing that chieftain was the son of the most all-knowing sejðwife the finns ever gave to the svear."

"We had absolutely no idea. That would have changed the stakes."

"Would it, though? He wanted a wife below him, and you wanted the glory of winning. Neither of those things had anything to do with me or what I could become."

Eskil shrugged.

"To be honest, it was more about beating him than actually coming out on top. I had a sneaking suspicion you were secretly seeing Anund, and I would have been quite fine with that. I mean, you both seemed to like drifting around the woods alone. If I'd known, I probably would have tried to beat him too."

Kildevi snorted.

"Anund has no interest in lying with women, or horses, just to counter the rumour."

"I know, but you were a weird one back then, as if you were a part of a different story than everyone else. It wasn't far-fetched to think he would see a chance for companionship."

"And now? I'm not weird enough for Anund anymore?"

"Even more so, I'd say."

His hand followed her leg upwards under the shift.

"But I'm not jealous, I know how to handle you now."

Kildevi giggled.

"Again?"

"It's still our wedding week. But if you're already bored of me…"

She bit her lip.

"Always. I'll just lie here and let you get on with it."

Slowly his hand trailed down her hip bone and she shuddered.

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not."


"What are you doing?"

"We're five days into our wedding, what does it look like we're doing?"

Eskil was bent over the water basin in the bathhouse washing his face and hands. Thorstein stood next to him leaning on the big wooden bathtub, emptied of water since the night before.

"You seem less newly wed and more like on shore leave with someone else's wife. This is not dignified behaviour, and as your brother I'm opposed to you rolling in fun while I'm in a drought."

"She used to be someone else's wife, if that helps? And I guess you can call this an indefinite shore leave. As per your drought… I haven't had a steady bed companion for almost a year now and she's been widowed for two and a half. You don't know what a drought is, my friend."

Thorstein looked disgusted.

"Still, I heard giggling yesterday. Giggling. Since when is giggling a part of marital duties? It's a duty. If someone's giggling you're doing it wrong! Are you sure she hasn't spellbound you to a goat cock or something?"

Eskil didn't dignify that with a reply.

"You nagged at me to get in there for a month, and now you're complaining you don't get to see my miserable blanket move anymore?"

"There is a middle way, where no blankets move - yet no wife gets worn and weary."

"That is very considerate of you, but I don't think you have to worry about her. The whole fun comes from putting one hand on her and then just lean back to watch her squirm. It's like… like throwing dry pine needles on a fire. Sparks everywhere."

Eskil dipped his face down into the basin, then threw his head back so his wet hair threw droplets all around him. Thorsten wiped his face in disgust.

"I am just worried for you, brother. I'm standing next to you, helplessly watching you get crushed by the weight of your own unbearable smugness."

"Remember in Konugard when you just disappeared for five days and no one knew where you were? I thought you had finally pissed off the wrong husband, but then you came back one day with a horribly self indulgent bounce to your steps and told me you'd spent the whole time with some Rus merchant's wife in a room atop some disreputable craftsman's workshop?"

Thorstein sighed, dreamy eyed.

"Yes. How can I forget? Her last week in freedom before the old fart got home. We sent out her thrall to get food from the market and just moved between the bed and the bath next door, just reveling in… Oh! I see what you did there!"

"Exactly. Soon, there will be work and worries and possibly fights and we already have our oversized guest threatening the peace, nothing will be new anymore and she has already given me a taste of children crawling down between us at night - but now? Right now I can just throw dry pine on the fire and watch the sparks. So excuse me for burning down the forest."


When Kildevi finally found Thorlev alone, it was late afternoon and he stood in the outroom of the old longhouse looking for something in the rough wooden chest used for a little bit of this and that. Silently, she closed the back door and when he turned to see who was there, she took three steps to close the door into the main room too.

"We need to talk."

He rose and closed the chest.

"I think I know what this is about."

"There were more lies unveiled than those you met in the paddock. You can't change what I believed to be the beginning of our story and think it changes nothing."

He looked at her for a moment, his face thoughtful.

"Do an old man a favour and go through your grievances. Give me a chance to explain myself."

"First of all, you asked for my story. You let me believe you only knew who my father was, then listened to me as if you didn't know it all already. But you did. A case can be made that you didn't utter a lie, but that would be a coward's response. So please, give me something else. Show me that you hold me in higher regard than that."

"Do you remember what I asked you for in exchange for my own story?"

"My story."

"No. I asked you to tell me about your omens. I didn't know of them. I didn't even know your name. All I knew was who your grandmother was."

"Yet, you pretended to get the idea that I could help you after hearing my story, not before."

Thorlev gave her a sideways smile.

"Would you have come? If an unknown, armed man had stood in the fish house telling you he needed you to come to break a curse for him because your grandmother was a renowned sejðwife, would you have come freely, or would it have been an abduction? I needed you to feel at least a bit safe with me before I posed that suggestion."

"You think that threatening to give me to your sons was any better?"

Thorlev stared at her, taken aback.

"I didn't threaten you! I gave you the offer of a new life as the wife of one of my sons, and you seemed to see your situation clearly enough to accept!"

"That was not what you said. It may have been what you meant, but what I heard was an unknown, armed man saying he wasn't that interested, but maybe his handful of sons had lower expectations for a bed thrall."

Thorlev blinked. Once. Twice.

"That was… How could you ever jump to that conclusion?"

"How could I not? With no one left to pay me out, thralldom would be a reasonable expectation for someone caught as a spoil of war. The outburst of giggles was less about the sock and more about the relief of being given to one as a wife, not all as a slave."

Thorlev was still staring at her in disbelief, but now he shook his head.

"No matter if my plan to help you feel safer failed miserably, that was the reason I wasn't open with that knowledge from the beginning. I wanted you to come along freely."

"Then we have the issue of why you wanted your curse lifted. It wasn't a longing for daughters. It was a wish for your sons to birth powerful spàkonur to help you in your ambitions."

He shrugged.

"Can't a man long for both? Believe me, I wanted daughters for both love and ambition, Sigrunn will be up to her chin in toys and finery as soon as she stops chewing on everything. I have brought you your fair share too, now that I think of it. But the most important thing is not being cursed anymore. I had nine unmarriageable sons I didn't know what to do with."

Kildevi saw her grievances melt away, one by one. But she had one left.

"Then we go on to the offers. I was widowed for over two years before Eskil came home, but you never mentioned that anyone had approached you for me."

"Why should I? I knew I would say no. And I couldn't let you go to a family who wouldn't risk a feud to protect you from Holmgrim, so it had to be us, or someone so far above him they would laugh in his face, and sadly none of the fathers who approached me were kings."

"And if they hadn't returned?"

"Then I would have given you the choice of Anund and Svein."

Kildevi sighed.

"I am so lucky they returned, then. I would have chosen either of our east-farers over Svein and Anund."

Thorlev looked at her, surprise on his face.

"But you like Anund?"

"Yes, I love him like a brother. But he does not take pressure well, so no grandchild of yours would be born of it."

"But surely, he would…"

"No. I really don't think he would."

Thorlev didn't look like he trusted her on that one, but he left the subject.

"So, have you gotten your answers? "

"For now, but not really."

"Enough to let it rest?"

"Yes. For now."

 

[Alvlin]

The last day of the feast came with all its farewells, and over a morning the homestead went from brimming with people to just two handfuls more than it usually housed. Among those staying behind were the men promised by Alfrida's brother, Thorlev's brother and Alfjir, Holmgrim and his four men and a man named Ragnar from Nerrike with his wife, young son and two teenage daughters. The son was Asbjorn's age and quickly disappeared with the other boys, but the daughters kept more to the house. Hrefna was the easiest of them to have around, she was the eldest and seemed sensible, but Thora was 13 and sometimes talked so fast Kildevis' head spun in circles on the inside. She already had her mind full of two things - the novelty of Eskils patient approach to marital duties and the ever looming threat of Holmgrim - and in the span between them there was no room to ponder why a family with two teenage daughters would stay two more days at a homestead with several unmarried sons.


A week of feasting had left no one thirsty for more of the same, but in the last evening before they left, everyone gathered for song and talk before the farewells. The spirit was lowered by the presence of Holmgrim and his men. Tonight Holmgrim sat on the bench across the hearth, and she could feel his gaze through the flames, his stare bearing down on her. Ill at ease, she stared into the fire. The flames danced in new patterns, and she broke off a piece of her bread to feed them, an offering she had made so many times it had almost lost its meaning. Then, she heard it whisper, uncalled. She must have shown her surprise, because Eskil gave her a questioning glance, and she forced her face into a neutral mask. Her stare deepened, until all that existed was that… that bond, the calm that comes from all the inner voices of the mind suddenly silenced. The fire burnt away all doubts and delusions. Caught in the bond she could feel herself open. The whispers had words. Do you want me-me to show you-you? It echoed. Kildevi turned her gaze across the hearth, and Saw.


"But what did you see?"

Kildevi shook her head, then let it hang between her knees, staring at the ground. She was sitting at the bench outside the smithy, Eskil pacing back and forth in front of her. Just a moment earlier they had waved goodbye to Ragnar and his family, and now they had managed to slip away to talk alone for the first time since the night before.

"It's always hard to explain in words. Sometimes it's pictures, sometimes it's whispers, sometimes it's just… knowing."

"And this time?"

"A shadow fell over him. I'm not certain, but it could have been two figures, or two lights throwing two shadows. And I knew that his day was drawing close."

She paused and shuddered.

"He is drenched in blood. Honorable and dishonorable killings pile up around him."

She looked up at her husband.

"We really need to know what foretelling my grandmother told him."

Eskil grunted.

"I heard Father tell Mother "

"What? He knew? YOU knew?! And didn't tell me?!"

"You didn't know? It went something like: All men in three generations will fall by your family, none of them honourably enough for Valhalla. But, you know, better worded."

Kildevi sighed, biting her lip.

"Then his oath actually makes sense. And there is only me left, how am I supposed to kill a man like Holmgrim?"

Eskil suddenly stopped pacing and fell to a crouch in front of her.

"Hey, look at me. You're bigger than him. He lives in fear of your grandmother's sejð, and you are my ashen vǫlva, named from the spring that dried up because it refused to kill you. Mother bear herself tried to raise you. You can walk while lying down, you can see the future, you can break curses and kill Jotunn with your mind."

"I have never killed a Jotunn!"

"Are you sure? Not even a tiny little one?"

"Yes, I'm sure. And no. Why does that keep coming up?"

"Strange. I talked to a man two villages east who was sure of it."


The next morning, Holmgrim suddenly packed up to leave. The house woke to the sound of horses being readied and a scared Elfrid begging forgiveness for giving them breakfast without her Matron's permission.

"I should have woken you up, I know I should, but they demanded bread and I didn't dare…"

Afrida cut her off.

"Don't be stupid. Of course you give them bread, they're guests. Now, go and straighten up, you act like a panicked hen."

Thorlev, flanked by his two elder sons, nephew and one of his own housecarls, went out to make sure they all left.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Holmgrim said, with a sarcastic smirk. "Disloyal you may be, but a miser you are not."

Thorlev squinted up at him.

"I broke no oath, and was as much your man as you are mine."

"You read oaths in words, not meaning. That makes you less of a man than I."

"You don't dare face me without the protection of my hospitality. I'll leave it to the valkyries what kind of man that makes you."

Holmgrim looked up, and stared straight at Kildevi.

"You. Witch. Ask Thorlev what I planned to do with you four summers ago. He knows. I should have known his stomach would be too weak for it."

Thorlev's jaw clenched, and when he spoke the words came out through gritted teeth.

"I'll give you passage til midday. Then one day, when your time is out, we will come for you and your sons like her father came for yours."


When the five men had disappeared down the road, the household returned to its usual pace and workings. There were still crops to harvest, beer to brew, bread to bake and houses to repair, and no matter what threats might have been uttered, winter would come for everyone's rations and warmth unless prepared for. Thorlev and his sons may have been free to act, but with almost all men out in the fields that would leave the house unguarded.

"Don't worry," Thorlev said when they gathered for breakfast. "We'll make him eat his words, and right now Eskil is more useful here keeping an eye on his wife than out there feuding. Once we are done with harvest and slaughter… that is another thing entirely."

Kildevi shivered. She had no intention to ask Thorlev what Holmgrim had planned for her, that would be a vivid nightmare she'd rather not have. She realized then and there that she really didn't want to die. Not now, when life finally seemed to be so full of promises.


When the house started to empty Eskil rose to leave, but Thorlev signaled to him to stay. With only family left, Alfrida filled everyone's mugs and sat down.

"It should come as no surprise to you that I have proposed an alliance to Ragnar. Hrefna is level headed, and nice enough from what I've seen. Ragnar mainly thought about Anund, what with him being next in line, but Gudrun and Hrefna both seemed to think Thorstein a more suitable match. I've talked to neither of the boys yet. I want to hear what you think first."

"You can't give a woman to Anund," Eskil said bluntly.

Alfrida and Kildevi exchanged a look. Kildevi knew she hadn't said a word, but had Afrida talked? No, her Matron's face looked as quizzical as her own. Thorlev lent closer.

"Why is that?"

Eskil suddenly hesitated.

"He… He isn't man enough for it. It wouldn't be fair to her."

"I don't know of anything Anund has done to not be able to take a wife?"

"I think Eskil means that it wouldn't be nice of us to let a friend's daughter marry a man with no interest in heading a family."

Alfrida looked at Eskil with a smile just a bit too soft and pleasant.

"We know how seldom he shows interest in anything but his horses, and we also know that he can be… avoidant of duties not in his interest."

"Yes, yes of course. That was exactly what I meant." Eskil agreed, a little too quickly.

Thorlev looked between them, eyes narrowing.

"So, you suggest I should talk to Thorstein and offer him instead? I can't say it's because Anund avoids his responsibilities, but I suppose I can lean on mutual liking between Thorstein and Hrefna, if there is one."

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, ástin mín!"

Alfrida said at her most overwhelmingly sweet.

"I am sure Thorstein won't mind a young wife with such a sweet disposition, and I sure won't mind another pair of eyes on both children and work women."

Thorlev still looked hesitant, but he sighed and nodded.

"No matter what I decide in the end, I'll start with speaking to Thorstein. Then we'll see."


The second Thorlev had left and Alfrida had started putting the house thralls to work, Kildevi lent closer to Eskil and half wheezed, half whispered in his ear,

"What was that about?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

"What?"

"You leave Sigulf in the smokehouse. Anund 'has a foaling mare' and leaves right before Sigulf returns home, then comes back with you and has grass stains on his legs beneath his clothes, but nothing on them. You are wearing a shift too big for you, but Sigulf told us the night before that you walked naked out into the forest."

"He told you that?"

"Yes. That wasn't the only thing he told us."

Cheeks burning, Kildevi suddenly found she couldn't look at him. Face turned down, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He continued.

"I fetched your own shift and left it with the washerwomen. It lay in a heap on the floor of the smokehouse, exactly where I guess you threw it. But you never noticed it was back, did you?"

"No. I was preoccupied with being out of my body for three days."

Eskil considered this for a breath.

"You are right, that is fair."

"Who else knows?"

"Whoever was a bit vigilant. But no, I haven't told anyone that my brother is a half-woman. I care more about his reputation than he does."

"I couldn't have done it without him."

"Let's just make sure it stays a secret long enough to be forgotten. And that he never marries a woman who expects a man."


Thorstein took the news of his proposed marriage with mild surprise and quick acceptance.

"She seems as good as any," was the first assessment they got out of him, and when further pressured he admitted she didn't hurt the eyes and "probably knew her way around a hearth" which wasn't exactly a declaration of joy, but at least vaguely positive.

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear that," Eskil commented in a dour tone.

"I don't know what to tell you. You know what kind of women I like, and you don't want your wife to be too forward. Or I don't know, maybe you do?"

"Don't answer that Eskil, he doesn't know any better," Thorlev replied. "And son, if you expect her to be boring, she'll be boring, so you better work up some interest or you'll be bored at home for years to come."

"Sure, I'll try then. If I can't, I'll fake it. Happy?"

And so it was settled. Negotiations could begin.


With gore-month came Slaughter. With all men and women busy, the flock of children drifted around the homestead, sometimes helping out, but mostly being in the way. Holmger was put in charge of making sure the younger ones fulfilled the tasks given to them, and making sure Sigrunn didn't end up on top of the henhouse, or in the way of an axe or butchering knife. In his belt, he proudly sported Thorsteins sword as a regalia giving him unquestionable authority over his younger siblings, who wouldn't always give much respect to seniority. Thus, he was the closest thing to a grown man present when Holmgrim suddenly appeared again between the outhouses, his massive frame blocking the way towards the forest.

"Well, Oðin is smiling at me today. One of you for the witch…"

Holmgrim reached for the closest child, but Thore dodged to the side, then turned and ran towards the hall like a deer in flight. The other children froze, but Holmger drew Thorstein's sword and pushed Asbjorn back towards the smaller children, placing himself between the massive man and his younger siblings.

"Asbjorn, take them away, you lead them now. "

"Holmger, no!"

"You're in my way, get them out of here!"

Holmgrim looked down at the small drengr in front of him, standing with his sword drawn but not a whisker on his face.

"I don't want to kill you, boy. Step aside or give yourself over."

Holmger swallowed hard, but stood his ground.

"You're not getting them."

"I will destroy you, you don't have to be stupid."

Suddenly the boy stopped shaking, as if the knowledge that he was going to die shifted his panic into determination. If your day has come, all you can do is go down with a fight. Without knowing anything about Holmgrims' foretellings, he threw them in his face.

"I will see you in Valhalla, then."


The fight should have been over in one blow, but Holmger didn't fight to win, he fought to stall. In the narrow space between outhouses, Holmgrim couldn't use the full range of his weapon, but he could push the boy further and further towards the open space of the yard. Holmger never had a chance to reach him, forced to use his sword only to parry and evade.


The strike wasn't masterful. It wasn't controlled or exact or taking perfect advantage of anything. But with Holmgrims full attention on the boy in front of him, it didn't have to be.


Behind him stood Alfrida, face contorted to a mask of hate and fear and fury. The silver in her hair dulled red with blood, she appeared like a shield mother more than a shield maiden, the long butchering knife angled upwards, pushed to the hilt into Holmgrims back between the lamella of his armour. His massive frame froze, and she twisted, heaving her entire body to cut as far as the lower rib would let her.

With the huge man pinned from behind, Holmger caught the moment, and swung the sword as hard as he could against the trunks of the thighs. Holmgrim toppled. The sword fell out of his hand, and with the knife in his back half drawn out he fell over the boy in front of him, trying to gain control of his limbs but failing as his heart kept pumping blood through severed arteries. For a moment the silence was deafening, the wet rasp of Holmgrim's last blood filled breaths the only sound cutting through the stillness. Then all that was heard was Holmger's violent sobs. Alfrida dragged her child out from under the still living carcass and fell down beside him, holding his shaking body through the convulsions.


And that was how the men found them, just a moment later, a moment that just as easily could have been a lifetime. Thorlev and Eskil came running with drawn weapons, then came to a halt, staring at the scene. Alfrida looked up, white face smeared with blood.

"Your son is a hero," she said, voice hoarse and harsh. "But I don't know what use we have of you."

Thorlev wisely said nothing. Instead, he sat down next to her, holding her like she held Holmger. Alfrida didn't cry, but her full weight rested on her husband's chest as Holmger clung to her, the violent sobs slowly giving way to a tired stillness.

People were coming, housecarls and workers and thralls gathered, and through the crowd four small figures snuck to the front.

"Asbji, why is Holmger crying?"

Asbjorn lifted Sigrunn, who was wide eyed and uncharacteristically silent, and put the other arm around his smallest brother.

"Shut up, Geir. Just… just shut up."


Thogard, Eskil and Thorsten found two of Holmgrim's men in the forest, slew one, and sent the last one back west to spread the word and bring the bodies home.

"They were not here to attack the homestead," Thorlev said that evening. "Not just three men on as many horses. No, they probably planned to take a hostage for exchange to bring back with them if they couldn't find Kildevi alone. But it seems a stupid plan to bring two men and then go alone. I think he was just scouting, saw a chance, and tried to grab it."

"But little did he know that we had a Holmger," Alfrida said, trying to pull her fingers through the young hero's hair.

"Mother!" Holmger said accusingly and moved away from her hand at the last minute. "I am not a child."

"I know. Today you shouldered a grown man's burden. Who can tell what man will grow from an unbearded boy given such courage and valour? You made us all mightily proud today."

But when all other eyes were on Holmger, Thorlev's eyes were on Alfrida, the woman who had slain Holmgrim Geirmundson. It may have been a shameful death for the old crow, but from that day on when he saw her hug, or comb, or feed his children, he would remember that the other side of motherhood was to slaughter a man like a pig, because there was no one to fall back on, and someone had to do it.


Kildevi curled up against the pillows, staring into the wall. Lost in thoughts, she almost didn't notice when Eskil crawled down behind her.

"So. It's over."

"Yes. For now. Holmgrim's sons are still sitting at his seat, for all I know."

Eskil didn't protest.

"How are you?"

She rolled over on her back, looking up at the sky through the open smoke rift.

"Empty. I never wanted to make your family take my fights. And I never wanted you dragged into a feud for me."

"I'd say that was father's doing when he snatched you away from under Holmgrims nose. But I guess this also means that fate itself accepts this family as yours. Maybe you should too?"

At first, she didn't reply, then she sighed.

"I do, but I've never really been a part of anything before."

"Then I think you're just slow to see things. You've been one of ours ever since father brought you home."

Carefully he coaxed his hand down the neckline of her shift, cupping her breast.

"You've filled out."

"It's been a good harvest."

"Mother thinks you're pregnant."

"She said that?"

"Mhm. She asked me if you'd told me yet."

"She'd have to tell me first."

They lay silent again.

"You just want to sleep tonight, don't you?"

He felt her heartbeats speed up against his wrist.

"Don't worry, so do I."

"Eskil?"

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. I can't afford that many chickens anyway."

"Eskil?"

"Yes?"

"Why can't you ever shut up in time?"

"Sorry."

 

[Alvlin]

Midwinter had come and gone, and it was now clear that Alfrida had been right. Kildevi had begun to swell, not just her belly, but all of her looked more like a grown woman and less like a young birch swaying in the wind. The tiredness had melted away since a few weeks back, and at this point she felt stronger than ever, sometimes even biting back at Alfrida. Thus, she felt no hesitation at all that afternoon when she went to fill up the grains in the pantry and suddenly realised that there already was someone in the stockroom.


Ear to the door, Kildevi heard giggles, then the low murmur of a man's voice. Making a quick assessment of possible culprits, she silently put her hand on the key, then pulled the door open as fast as she could. Elfrid's blushing face stared at her in horror from atop a pile of grain sacks, her legs wrapped around Thorstein's waist where he stood, thankfully covering the view of what they were doing. Kildevi just stood there silent, letting them stew for a while. Elfrid crawled down, trying to cover herself the best she could.

"Elfrid, you can go. Thorstein, you stay."

Quick as a weasel Elfrid disappeared out through the door. Thorstein stayed, making a point of calmly and casually fastening his belt and correcting his clothes before he turned to face her.

"So, what do you want?"

"Don't play stupid. What do you think?"

He threw out his hands.

"I don't know exactly what you're accusing me of. I promise, there was no force involved. At all. She really, really wanted me here."

"I know. And that's why I'm not accusing you of rape, I'm accusing you of seduction."

Thorstein shrugged.

"There has been no foul play, the minimal amount of effort that took shouldn't count as seduction. She made her choices."

Kildevi took a deep breath. She felt a headache coming on.

"This isn't about her choices. This is about her being young and easily swooned while you've been in the game for a while and know exactly what you're doing."

He leant back against the stack of grain sacks, calmly looking her up and down as if he saw her figure for the first time.

"Yeees, you would know everything about that, wouldn't you? How long did you let him fuck you in smokehouse before Eskil found you?"

Kildevi suddenly went cold. Heart racing, she reminded herself he hadn't been here to see the aftermath. She took a breath to regain her composure.

"You're right. I do know. It didn't end well for me either, even with the protection of a wifely status. You can't marry her, her family is not desperate enough for concubinage to be on the table. You would destroy a tenant family's loyalty to yours for what? A few stabs in the stockroom?"

Thorstein looked a bit uneasy, but the glare he threw at her was dark.

"Why do you care so much?"

"She's the best spinner we have, and the first friend I made here. I'm giving you a chance to break this off before I'm taking it to Alfrida. And if this has already gone wrong, I expect you to admit parentage and accept the child."

"Or?"

"Or I'll have her father take it to ting, with me as his witness, and I wouldn't like to be you if you reject Alfrida her grandchild."

Thorstein stared at her, clearly also knowing exactly how that would go down.

"You're as bad as my mother, do you know that?"

Kildevi sighed.

"You are the third person telling me that. Why would anyone think that is an insult?"


Eskil didn't seem all too impressed with her either.

"I don't understand why you would embarrass him with it, she is the one with a reputation to lose. She could have just said no."

"Because she's young and stupid! Girls marry that age for a reason, that reason being restless bodies and no foresight. He's twenty. He should know better."

Eskil made another draw with the whetstone over the blade of the shears he was sharpening, a tense jaw and jerky movements clear signs of annoyance.

"So you took it upon yourself to expand your authority to cover my brother, who you don't have any authority over whatsoever."

"No, my authority covers this house, second only to your mother's. They were in our house."

"Legally, it's my father's house."

Eyebrows raised, she turned to look at him. It was hard keeping her voice civil.

"So why don't you bring this to him, watch him dump it in your mothers lap, like he always does, and see what she says, hm?"

She never got a reply to that, so obviously he didn't think that was a great idea after all.

"You're still not in a position to scold him."

"Is that what he told you I did? Poor, poor Thorstein. Did he come running to you because your nasty wife was mean to him? If so, you should force him to shave, because I would wear that beard better than he does."

She saw his jaw clench again and made a conscious decision to ignore it.

"If you'd been a man, those words would lead to bloodshed."

"If I were a man we wouldn't be having this conversation in the first place."

They stared at each other. None of them wanted to budge. Then finally the corner of Eskils mouth began to twitch.

"Are we really having this fight because Thorstein can't keep his pants on?"

Kildevi didn't smile back.

"Trust me, I wish we weren't."

"What did you actually say to him?"

"I gave him a last chance to break it off before I told your mother."

Eskil paused to consider his options.

"You should speak to Elfrid too, you know."

"No."

"Why not?"

"She'll bear the brunt of this anyway. Tell Thorstein my answer is 'little over a month' and he'll understand."

"I don't understand."

"By all means, ask him."


Two days later Eskil and Thorstein were out checking hare snares.

"So, did you talk to her?"

"Yep."

"What did she say?"

"She called you a baby, and she's not going to talk to Elfrid. But she did tell me to say that the answer to your question is 'little more than a month'."

Thorstein muttered something in latin.

"I understand you, remember. You don't want to finish that sentence."

Eskil paused.

"She also said you could explain what she meant by that."

"I was angry. She lay all blame on me and let Elfrid off the hook."

"So…"

"So I felt, at that time, that maybe she was partial to Elfrid due to once having been in a similar situation. And I expressed that sentiment."

Eskil frowned, and considered this for a moment.

"You called her a whore, didn't you?"

"Unlike you, I would never use that word about someone in my own family."

He decided to let that one pass.

"So what did you say?"

"You don't want to know."

"Pretend that I do."

"I asked her how long she had been meeting Sigulf in the smokehouse when you found them."

"Oh."

"But less politely worded."

"Oh..."

They were silent for a few steps. Eskil looked down, eyebrows furrowed.

"You know, I actually didn't want to know that."

"I thought so."

"First I was furious. Then I got over it. Then he died and we married and things have gone well and now I want to punch him again."

"He had a very punchable face."

"That he had."

They walked a while longer, pondering this. Thorstein threw Eskil a sideways glance.

"You've already started to look like our parents, you know that?"

"Hm?"

"You know. Comfortable. Just naturally handing each other stuff, flirting when you think no one sees you. You even fight unabashedly, knowing that nothing important is going to break. I don't think they had that."

"Huh. I haven't thought about that."

"You can't really fight with someone you're afraid of losing."

"So, in the face of that, why not just let the past die?"

Thorstein bent down, emptying a snare trap and carefully setting it again. Eskil took the dead hare and put it in the sack.

"Because I don't like being told what to do. And she's not my mother."

"You've always gotten along. You even rooted for her back in the day."

Thorstein didn't reply. Eskil sighed.

"I don't like being stuck between my favourite wife and my favourite brother."

"You only have one wife, and she's a gripe."

"Maybe that's why I only have one?"

"You should get a second. One who's nice, pretty and demure for a change."

"Yeah, that would go down well. I think I'll leave that one to you."

They walked in silence for a few steps before he continued.

"You know what, Thorstein? Sometimes, you shove your foot so deep in your own mouth, it costs you six speckled hens. And sometimes, you shove… other parts of yourself so deep into someone else, it costs you a scolding. Man up and be happy you're not the one getting the chicken jokes."


And thus it came to be that Elfrid was hastily married to one of Alfjirs grandsons, and spent her next six years tending house in a cabin that belonged to a timberyard on the outskirts of Thorlev's land. A tenant farmer's daughter could do worse, but the second she was widowed she returned both to her parents household and to that of their landlord with her two living children and her spindle, and steadfastly refused to remarry until her own children were settled. Then, at 32, she met the young son of a master weaver at the market, and while the weaver fell in love with her yarn, the son fell reasonably and practically in love with her. And so they lived happily in the market village that would later become Westerás until she died of pneumonia at the age of 37, and her husband's mother's woollen twills were never quite the same again. But that is way past the scope of this story.

 

[Alvlin]

"You're lucky, you know. No matter if this child is a son or a daughter, you're going to make someone happy."

Alfrida calmly watched her daughter in law circle the hearth, hands on her lower back to balance the firm and now low set belly, huge on the slender frame. Her shift was already wet, and the fire was burning even in the early warmth of summer to keep the old longhouse warm enough to receive a child.

"I don't feel lucky. I just want it out. Now. Where is Alfjir?"

"She says there is no rush, so she's out in the hall putting the men to work."

"No rush. She said there is no rush. How long is this going to take?!"

"I know. You feel like you've walked around this hearth forever, but I'm afraid she's right. The contractions started this morning and you still have a good pause between. I don't think anything will happen before nightfall."

"Nightfall. I am supposed to walk around in a circle til nightfall?!"

"You don't have to walk, but in my experience it helps. The first often takes longer, then it gets easier."

Kildevi stopped, and Alfrida put her hand on her arm.

"Don't worry. You are strong, healthy and the perfect age for a first. The very young or very old more often go awry."

"I'm not worried. I know I won't die today."

"Is that your opinion as a seer, or as an angry woman about to give birth?"

"Both."

"Then maybe you should tell your husband. He's been circling the other hearth all day without a single contraction."

"You tell him. I get angry thinking about his stupid face."

Alfrida snorted, but she did so smiling.

"You know, this room has different laws until you have your babe on your chest. Things said in childbirth stay in the linens and are washed away with the rest of the mess."

Kildevi turned and bent over to rest on Alfridas shoulders as she breathed through the pain of the next contraction.

"Then you can tell, that sweet-talking, shit-eating, goatfucker, that I will survive, but I'll kick his face in, if he tries to get there again. He can dip it in a chicken next time."

"Of course dear, I'll tell him that."


Eskil had been stomping a path in the floor around the hearth of the hall, and when the door into the longhouse opened, he stopped, staring at his mother.

"Is something happening? How is she?"

"You can sit down, son. Your wife has told me to tell you that she will not die today, so you can stop worrying."

"Did she? Did she really say that? And was it a foretelling, or just her trying to put my worries to rest?"

"Let me say it this way, she also advised you to go find yourself a mistress among the landed poultry, because she is apparently not going to let you get near her again."

Alfrida winked.

"Don't worry, we have all said that, and look how many brothers you have. But rest assured that your comfort is the last thing on her mind right now."

"Thank you. Is there anything I can do?"

Alfrida shook her head.

"You're mostly in the way. Get yourself something to do, no child will come before tonight. Everyone but me and Alfjir will have to sleep out in the hall."

As the door closed behind her again, Thorstein rose and walked towards the door to the yard.

"Where are you going?"

"Aren't you coming? We're going to fetch you a mistress. The pretty ones go first, you know."


In the very early hours of the morning, just as the sun had come halfway up the horizon, a brittle scream cut through the air. Alfjir looked at the tiny fingers, waving blindly until they found the face and started to claw around a mouth still white with fat.

"Here she is, and it seems everything that should be there, is there, and in the right number. But you were born a hungry one, weren't you? Let's get you where you belong, little piglet."

Lifting her up to help her on the way, Alfjir put the newborn on Kildevi's belly and pointed upwards.

"There is the way, you know what to do. You just take your time to get there while your mommy, and gran, and old Alfjir takes care of the mess you left behind, like we will do for many, many years to come."

And while Alfjir and Kildevi had the after birth and Alfrida went to get food and more clean rags, the newborn made its first journey towards food and shelter, instincts pushing her towards the breast and her mother's well known heartbeats.


"I want you to get my husband."

Alfrida shook her head.

"We don't let a man in until we have cleaned you up. We don't have to wake him yet "

"I won't look at her until he's here."

"Don't be silly, of course you will. He won't be here in a while and you two need to find each other."

Kildevi looked up at her matron, or mother-in-law, or just the closest thing she had to a mother, and tried to make her understand, because she was too tired to talk and words didn't make sense anyway, but Alfrida didn't seem to get it.

"I need you to get him," she tried. "I need to hear him say her name before I look at her."

"He'll name her tomorrow in front of everyone, like it's always done. There is no need to…"

"Why don't you go get that boy, Matron," Alfjir cut in, her wrinkled hand stroking Kildevi's arm. "What harm will it do, hm? You've never had a child put out, but I have, and I think fetching the father is the least we can do."

Alfrida shook her head.

"There is no reason to believe he wouldn't…"

"But so very many reasons for a new mother to feel fear, and this one could be gone with just a word."

Alfrida looked like she wanted to protest, but then she turned her heel and went to tell her son his wife and daughter needed him.


"Eskil. Wake up."

"Huh?"

"Wake up, son!"

"Is it… Is it done? Is she done? How is everyone?"

"Your wife and daughter are fine, both of them, but she doesn't want to see the babe until you have shown her you have a name for it."

"No… of course… I'll… I'll be right there. Did you just say I have a daughter?"

"Yes, a fine girl with ten fingers, ten toes and your mouth on her."

"I haven't thought of a name yet. You know… in case things went wrong."

"Don't worry, you have at least fifteen paces to think of one."


Staring at the door, she saw him stumble in, feet bare and trousers unlaced. The pillows were wet behind her naked back, the child a warm, sticky weight on her chest, its sweet fragrance stronger than the old smell of blood, piss and sweat. Alfrida had thrown a blanket over the worst mess, but there was no parting yet between the dream of new life and the gore and struggle of reality.

A few seconds, he just stood there, staring, before he came forward to her bedside and bent down over them. Kildevi kept her eyes on him, as he looked down at the red, frog-like creature on her chest and in reverence reached out a finger for it to grab.

"Do you accept her?"

Her voice came out hoarse, harsh.

He blinked.

"Yes. Yes, of… of course."

"What's her name?"

"I… I don't know. But she'll have one. I swear."

He still hadn't looked up, but now at least he seemed fully awake.

"It should be… Alf… Alf something. From both of them. Mostly mamma, but both. Alf… gerd? Alf…hild? Alf…run?"

Finally, Eskil tore his gaze away from the babe and looked up at her.

"What do you…?"

"I've done my task, this one is yours. I won't do it for you."

"Alfhild. Tomorrow, I will name her Alfhild."


Alfhild was called a very beautiful child. Kildevi thought so, Eskil too, and Thorlev claimed the two daughters born to his house these past years would only rival each other in beauty. From below, only Geir's tiny voice dared call the emperor naked.

"But she just looks like a wrinkly sausage, like they always do!"

And, as always, the truth-sayer was silenced.



"So, where do you want to sleep?"

Eskil looked around the main room of the longhouse. It was a month before Thorstein's wedding, when he was supposed to move into a bed space of his own with his new wife, and that meant someone at the homestead had exactly one month to build an alcove.

"I suggest not too far from the hearth. And that leaves either next to us, or next to the parents, and I don't think you'd be in their favour if you built yourself in next to them."

Thorstein made a face.

"Maybe if we put the younglings next to the parents, and me and Hrefna on the other side? You know, so we don't have to hear everything they say and do."

Eskil gave his brother a look of schadenfreude thinly veiled by pity.

"You don't want to do that. Remember how many of my brothers I once found in my wedding bed."

"I really, really don't want to be stuck head to head with you, but I guess that is the least of two evils."

"Don't worry, we will ask Svein and Olaf to make you a proper frame and screen. And our bed is sturdy and solid."

Eskil grimaced.

"I don't really want to think about why, but Sigulf was one gifted woodworker."

He walked over to the wide sidebench where his and Kildevi's bed was built in between two side beams and shielded by curtains on all sides. Trying to see how everything was put together, he lifted the curtain from the headboard and knocked on the frame to check where and how it was fastened to the beam.


Something fell down from behind the carved headboard. Eskil bent down to pick it up. It was a strip of wood, like a message stick, but with drawings all around the frame, and the runes didn't make much sense to him.

"Oh shit." Thorstein said, peering down behind him. "She really did spellbind you. I was just joking, but… she did."

"You don't know that!" Eskil said, annoyed. "This could be anything, and why would she?"

Thorstein shook his head. For once, he didn't look like he was joking.

"You should have shown interest in time, I told you so! She's a vǫlva, you know. They're known for that kind of stuff. Frǫya holds half of the gods by the cock and more than one queen has had their king bound down by his middle leg."

"This is Kildevi we're talking about, not Frǫya or queen Snǫfrid. She has never had any reason to seduce me by magic. I was the one trying to win her over, remember?"

"Still… there it is. What else could it be?"

"Anything! If could be… I don't know. Good luck, a prayer for children, prosperity, a long life and a good ending. It may have been there since long before I even came home!"

Thorstein didn't look convinced.

"She had way more reason to spellbind you than Sigulf. He was smitten long before she became a real vǫlva, but you… you had no reason to want her at all."

"You know, except for the obvious ones, that she's a powerful, clever and resourceful woman who will shape and carry my legacy?"

"Yeees, and that is exactly what you would expect a spellbound man to say."

"Am I wrong?"

"I didn't say that, and I'm not suicidal enough to go into that conversation, but it is a fact that you are a bit of a Balduresque figure and… you know. She's cute and fair and all that, but she's neither Hulda nor Sophia."

Eskil sighed.

"Hulda was an unfortunate accident and Sophia lived on her beauty. Kildevi brought a lot more than that. There is nothing weird or spell ridden about this, or us, I swear."

"No, no, I didn't say that! I just said that maybe she didn't know you would feel that way a year ago, and maybe she wanted to give you a push in the right direction. That's all I'm saying. Nothing else." He paused. "At least look into it, see if Anund recognizes the runes or knows who has carved it."

Eskil took a closer look at the figures framing the runes. There was a woman embraced by a bear, a dog of some kind, another woman surrounded by fire, an ocean wave, and a couple of other human figures he couldn't make sense of.

"I am pretty sure Anund carved this himself."

"Anund? Why would he make a spell stick for Kildevi?"

"They are as close as Anund is to anyone, and I recognize his work. He has a special way to carve texture, and this is it."

Eskil took the stick and put it in his belt purse.

"Anyway, it looks as if our entire headboard is tapped into the side beam. If you go and get Olaf to ask him for the best way to fit a bed on the other side, I'll see if I can find Anund.


Anund wasn't wildly eager to help.

"That's a stick," he confirmed.

"I know that," Eskil said patiently. "Even I can see that it's a stick, and that it has runes on it. But what is it?"

Anund shrugged.

"But you made it," Eskil persisted, "you must know what you made."

Anund took a look at the rune stick.

"There is no eagle on it. No lion. Not even a fox cub."

"No, I can see that too. The only animals I see are a bear and a dog. Why does that matter?"

"Don't mistake that for a dog."

"So it's not a dog, then. I agree. Not a dog. I still want to know what it means, not every animal you may or may not have put there."

Anund turned back to the fence he was repairing.

"With no eagle and no lion, it's none of your business."

"It was found in my bed. That makes it my business."

Anund was silent for a few moments, then he said, "not everything that happens in your bed is about you."

This time, it was Eskil who fell silent a while before he replied.

"I understand." He shook his head. "No. I don't, actually. But I understand enough to know that I don't know much. What do you think I should do with this?"

"Put it back."

"What will happen if I don't?"

Anund shrugged again.

"Probably nothing. Maybe she'll cry a bit more, but by now, probably nothing."



Thorstein and Hrefnas wedding was set at harvest, when the granaries had started to fill up, but there was still a good chance of sunshine. It was the first wedding Kildevi had been to in a very long time where she wasn't the bride, and apart from the work to prepare a seven day feast for a handsome number of guests, she had no wedding duties or responsibilities at all, except for the care of Alfhild who was on her third moon of life and still ate and slept with very short intervals.
Hrefna was a sweet, shy girl with a solemn streak, and certainly not used to or comfortable with being at the centre of everyone's attention. She was neither short nor tall, with straight hair a brownish blonde very much like Thorstein's own.

"At least we know what their children are going to look like," Alfrida whispered during the rites when the young couple stood next to each other, with the exact same length and colour of hair falling down their backs.

"Don't be so sure," Kildevi whispered back. "Maybe they'll get a short little curly girl in your honour!"

Alfrida slapped her arm, but smiled.

"Let's hope! Sigrunn is turning out to be her papa's, and I have low hopes for a likeness in Alfhild."

"They are a handsome couple, though," Kildevi added. "Could be siblings, but…"

"Well, they're not. That much I'm sure of."


Quite late into the feast of the first night, Thorstein beckoned Eskil to his seat. They talked, and then Thorstein rose and they went to the side to continue. Eskil looked… annoyed? Were they fighting? Alfhild had started to squirm and whimper in the warm hall with the overbearing sounds of the guests feasting and singing, so Kildevi walked away to let her eat and settle. As she sat on the bench outside with the babe at her breast, Eskil came out to join them.

"Aren't you needed inside? I just assumed you were acting adjunct?"

"Yes, I am. But I needed some peace and quiet before the whole bedding ritual starts."

"Does he know what to do, or do you have to explain it to him?"

Eskil gave her a tired glance. "I am absolutely sure he knows."

"I saw you squabble a moment ago. What was that about?"

He grimaced.

"He wanted to pull my trick again and make everyone a witness. I hope I convinced him not to, if not … I'll just have to use my weight to hold him back. It's a terrible idea."

"So why did you do it?"

"Because you were a veteran, and I thought it would dissolve some tension. I had a nightmare that we would be sitting half of the night staring at each other in silence, so I dragged them along. For momentum."

She glanced up at him with a tiny smile on her lips.

"And bragging. Admit it. You can't resist making a show out of anything if you get the chance."

Eskil gave her a sardonic smile back.

"Yes, maybe I hoped for that too, but you had been so solemn the entire day I never counted on it."

He sighed.

"But with a maiden that at best has heard some noises or seen a blanket move? Stupid. Just stupid."

He rose.

"No, it's time for me to go and bear some witness. Then I'll just have to find some way to stay awake for a reasonable amount of time before I stumble into the bed next to theirs."

"I have no time for that kind of patience," Kildevi replied. "Not with this one eating day and night. I have already made a sleeping place for me and Alfhild in the stockroom, you are welcome to share it with us."

"Let's see, shall we?"

Then he bent down and placed a kiss on Alfhilds head, and another on Kildevis cheek, before he disappeared inside again.


Kildevi didn't think any more about it. No company of revellers were dragged anywhere, and all the common rituals went on as usual. It wasn't until the third day when she went to give Alfhild over to her amma that she realised that Hrefna was surrounded by women and Thorstein nowhere to be seen.

"Why aren't they together?" she mumbled to Alfrida. "I've barely seen them talk outside of the rites."

"They don't know each other. Is it really that strange if Hrefna wants to spend her last days with her family?"

"No," Kildevi replied, "but where is he? He's supposed to at least try to get to know her."

Alfrida frowned and looked at the shy bride being talked over by both her sister and mother.

"It can be daunting for a young man to wade through female relatives to get to his bride, but if he doesn't shape up when the guests leave, I'll ask Thorlev to have a word with him."


Thorstein himself had a swell time, as long as he didn't have to think about everything that hadn't been too swell. Thus, he made sure to think about absolutely everything else, because he was not ready to handle anything that was actually hard, like how he just had gotten married to a girl - not a woman - who took everything he said literally, expected him to know everything, and had pretended to fall asleep because she couldn't stand looking at him the moment the marriage was consummated, a word he would hate from this day forward because it didn't sound like anything he believed two people in bed should be.


So, feeling like a mess, and a failure, and somehow unfairly treated at the same time, he took refuge in Svein, who very seldom said or did anything that didn't make his big brother feel good about himself. Svein had his very own crisis, because he was nineteen and awkward in a way none of his elder brothers had ever been, and this whole thing with people getting married left and right had made him wonder about his own place in existence and why everybody else seemed to know what they were doing.

"The way I see it," Thorstein said philosophically, if not completely without slurring, "Sigulf was big, and loud and always had to be at the centre of everything. That made it hard being Eskil. Eskil, on the other hand, is just a bit better than everyone else and looks like some sort of vanir, and that made everyone around him, or at least me, invisible. That made it hard being me. I overcame that by being more forward. I can't wait for the world to grab my balls, because the world has no reason to. Thus I grab all the balls I can find, metaphorically speaking, and with you being a bit of a confused yet dour wallflower, that makes it hard being you."

He paused and looked up at the roof.

"What I'm trying to say, Svein, is that you need to find out what about you makes it hard being Holmger. And then you need to make that your thing. That's how we work. I call it the wisdom of the too-many-fucking-brothers and Eskil would call it stupid but I believe in it and you should too."

"Uhm, didn't you forget Anund?"

"Huh. Since when does Anund compare himself to anyone? He's above and below this shit, and you know it."

Svein seemed to ponder this for a while.

"I… I'm thinking. Holmger is the best pupil ever. You know, he finds the right way to do everything and never does anything he hasn't perfected. He has to do things right all the time."

Thorstein nodded.

"Is that because I never do anything right?"

"No! Don't think of it like that! Think of it like…. Like you're great at doing things you're bad at!"

Svein sighed.

"I miss Elfrid. She was always so impressed with everything I did and seemed to really like me. Do you know why she left?"

Thorstein suddenly looked guilty.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry, I didn't expect you to know."

And at this particular time, maybe it was for the best that Svein never really was very perceptive.

 

[Alvlin]

The feast week ended and all the guests left. The house settled back, and on the very first day alone, Kildevi didn't wake up in the early hours of morning. When finally she opened her eyes, it was bright. The sun was up. Alfhild was gone.

She had exactly one second of panic, before a happy gurgle reached her from the other side of the curtain. Peering out through the slit between the drapes, she saw Hrefna sit at a bench making silly faces with Alfhild resting in her lap. This was some sort of new magic. Kildevi couldn't remember the last time she had been this rested. She had just decided to maybe make herself known when Alfhild began to whimper and put her fist in her mouth.

"I think you really are hungry this time, there is no making you happy with play anymore, is there, sweetie? Let's see if we can sneak you in to your teat again without waking your mommy, shall we? Yes, we shall."

Kildevi pretended to wake up when Hrefna softly put the baby down next to her at breastfeeding height. Silently, she mouthed "thank you", and Hrefna just smiled, nodded, and closed the curtain.


Kildevi had tried hard not to let her earlier worries grow in her mind. Alfrida was right, the newlyweds didn't know each other, and she herself had the rare luxury of having known both her husbands before the wedding feasts began. She couldn't really lean on her own experience on how the first days of a new marriage should unfold.

Still, Hrefna rarely left the house, and Thorstein seldom entered it, apart from coming in to eat and sleep. At the meals he mainly talked to his brothers, or the housecarls, or herself, or… more or less everyone else, actually.

"Do you think I should talk to him?" she asked Eskil one night, whispering not to be heard through the curtains. "She grows more silent with each passing day, and she was pretty shy to begin with."

Eskil seemed to think for a while, then he shook his head.

"I'm afraid he'll just deny everything and go on the defensive. You know, the wives sticking together against him."

He glanced back towards where Thorstein and Hrefna probably had their feet at the very moment.

"I think he doesn't know what to do with shy people. I mean… he's used to dealing with us, and no one in the family has a shy streak except for Svein when he's nervous. All women he's ever been with have been older, and played along with his flirting banter.

"Except for Elfrid."

Eskil sighed and looked a bit pained.

"Yes, but… you know…"

Kildevi tilted her head with a frown.

"No, I don't think I do. Please explain."

"Elfrid has always been… hm… how shall I put this…"

"I am waiting."

"No one was really surprised, if you know what I mean."

Next came a painful silence. Eskil gave her a glance.

"Can you please stop looking at me like that?"

"I don't think I can."

"Elfrid was a nice girl, we all liked having her around, but we all knew she was a smile and kiss away from where you found her. With every single one of us."

Kildevi sat up and wrapped herself in a blanket, before carefully picking up the sleeping Alfhild and swung her legs out of the alcove.

"What are you doing?"

"You know what? If that is your honest opinion, I am going to relieve you of my easily seduced self for tonight."

"That was different!"

"No. It wasn't. I'll see you at breakfast."


When Kildevi returned the next morning, Eskil was nowhere to be seen, but the rest of the family was up and getting ready for the day. She came in just in time to see Thorsten throw his trousers so they landed next to Hrefna on the bench, before he dug up his other pair from the chest, put them on, and walked out from the room, whistling.

Kildevi looked after him as he went, then walked over and sat down on Hrefnas other side, just as the younger woman took a needle and thread from her needle case.

"You don't have to do that before breakfast, you know," she said in a low voice. "Or at all, considering he didn't even ask. You're not a thrall or a servant."

"It's not a problem for me, I promise."

"Is that how your mother treats your father at home?"

"No."

"So…"

"But I have heard my father complain about my mother's haughtiness. I don't want to give my husband reason to complain."

Kildevi gave her a long look.

"Let him complain. Really. Trust me, I've known that man for a few years now, and you need to speak over him, or he won't even realise that he treats you like a badly stomped floor."

"I… I can't be that bold."

"You'll learn. But you better start trying now, before he gets used to taking everything you do for granted. You want to set your limits straight away, and hold them if he tries to push them. Otherwise, things can end badly."

Hrefna didn't look up from her work, but when she spoke, her voice was defensive.

"It's just a pair of trousers."

"Mm. And next time it's something else. I hope he remembers to thank you."


"There you are!"

Kildevi looked away from the loom where she stood with Alfhild on her back, rage-weaving, as she had done only once before, and that time had in a very direct way led to this one. The symmetry wasn't lost on her. Eskil stood in the doorway, just as Sigulf had done back then, looking around in exactly the same way as he tried to look casual and failed just as miserably.

"I've been here the entire morning. It was you who never came for breakfast."

"No, I was out looking for you from sunrise on. Where did you sleep last night?"

"As long as I was alone, that's none of your business."

He sighed.

"Can you please come out so we can talk? This has gone way out of hand."

"Why don't you come in?"

"This is a place for weaving. It's supposed to be sacred for women's crafts. I am not going to sully that by coming in, especially not to fight."

"How very honourable of you. In that case, you won't mind if I finish this part first."

He sighed again, slightly less patiently.

"Sure. Absolutely. I'll wait."

She finished the stripe and took pains to carefully rewind the yarn and put everything back in its right places as he stood in the door, watching her as he waited. Then she briskly walked out, and he moved away just as she almost walked right into him. Right outside, she stopped and turned.

"Now I am the one waiting. What do you want?"

"What is all this about? You don't have to agree with me, but bursting out of bed late in the evening because of… what?"

"Because you talk about Elfrid as if she doesn't count, just because she once made the same mistake as I. What about that is hard for you to grasp?"

"But it's not the same! And yes, it was a mistake, neither of you should have done that!"

"And if you think that youthful shortsightedness makes someone matter so little they don't even count anymore, how does that differ between her, and me, and Alfhild?"

Eskil threw out his hands, exasperation in his voice.

"Alfhild?! What does she have to do with anything?!"

"She has everything to do with everything! If your father is right and my daughters inherit my amma's companion, she will have a voice whispering in her head just as I have. That voice doesn't care about your ideas of honour, it has no grasp of maidenhood except as a door it needs to open. It only cares about the power it wields and the girl it is guiding. Which is nice, because that means that someone does!"

"So we'll have to protect her better!"

"And protect her from knowing her own power before she's safely married off, maybe to never wake at all?"

He looked as if he'd dropped something. Clearly, that was a strange new angle.

"Not wake…?"

"It's the fulfilment of a yearning, not just having something done to you. Your parents' love has given you a naive idea of marriage."

The words had come out much more harsh and bitter than intended. A long rant stuck in her throat, she crossed her arms to help hold it in and save it for a future when maybe he wasn't such a complete idiot and she herself would be able to explain some things without wanting to strangle him. He did take pause, then shook his head.

"I… That's still not something she can be left to decide on her own."

"I hope you understand that you will not make that decision alone."

Locked in a staredown she realised that was exactly what he thought. But that battle could wait. He must have come to the same conclusion, because he looked away and said,

"There are many years yet to think about what sort of guidance and protection she'll need."

"Yes. Which brings us back to Elfrid who probably has no sight to speak of. She was a child when she started to come here to work, and who was guiding her? Who was protecting her? Who made sure that those of you who knew she was easily swooned kept your hands off her? No one! You made some half-hearted attempts to heave it on me when you came back, and before you left none of you were very interested because she wasn't old enough to be interesting yet. The moment she was - no responsibility left in sight, anywhere."

Eskil sighed again. Would he ever stop? Those condescending sighs itched like nettle stings down her spine. The calm, proselytising tone in his voice made nothing better.

"Because at that age you're supposed to know how to protect your name. I'm sorry. That's how it works. That's why character is important, that's why families guard their daughters, that's why brothers make examples out of their sisters' suitors at the first sign of low intentions. It may be harsh, but that's how it is. And it still has very little bearing on you."

"It doesn't?"

"You knew that he would marry you! And you came here a maiden with no damage to your name, so obviously that character held up quite well before that. In spite of sights and whispers."

"That character was heavily supported by no one actually trying." Kildevi took a deep breath, once again getting ahold of herself before she said too much. "But no matter what kept me so long, it was easier for all of you to get rid of her than to rein him in for a couple of months until his wife got here."

She turned her eyes to his face again, equal parts sad and weary.

"What is done is done. But I won't listen to you pretend it was just some little mishap that never mattered to anyone."

He was silent for a moment.

"Do you want me to ask her to come back?"

"If you were her new husband, would you let her?"

"Never."

"There you have your answer."


The peace was brittle, but it was a peace. Later that day, when Kildevi noticed how Eskil kept staring at Alfhild with a thoughtful frown on his face, she decided that the whole thing probably hadn't been for nothing, after all. Time would tell. But it would take her that whole day to be somewhat happy with him again, and only when she didn't think about how far she would have to take him in only a dozen years.


It was Asbjorn who noticed first. He told Holmger, who prompted them to take it to their mother, who quickly told them to stop sticking their noses in adult business, especially with dangerous gossip. Later that night though, she told their father, who decided to talk to Eskil, who in turn took his troubles to his wife when they both thought Thore was soundly asleep between them. Thore didn't really understand much, but being nine, he still felt the need to tell it on to someone first thing in the morning. That someone was Thorstein, who happened to be one of the two people who everyone worried would find out in the first place.


Thorstein sat for a long while that same day staring at his wife while she worked, trying to find a good way to breach the subject before finally just blurting it out.

"So, Thore told me you seem more smitten by my brother than me."

She didn't look up, just kept preparing the pot for the midday meal.

"I'm married to you."

"That was not the issue. I know we're married. I was there."

"Then I don't see why there is anything to talk about. I will avoid him until it passes, and then the problem will have gone away."

"I don't get it. Why would you… why him?"

She shook her head, still not looking at him.

"I don't think you can understand. I don't think you have it in you."

"I have lots of things in me you don't know about. Try me!"

She hesitated, then gave the smallest of shrugs.

"If that's what you want, I'll do as you say. He listens when I say things. Then he replies as if what I said was worth hearing. He seldom talks over me, or waits for me to say something he can make a joke of to make others laugh at me."

Thorstein slumped over the table.

"Shit. I've done that, haven't I?"

"And he makes things," she continued, "beautiful things. He can spend half a day finding the best variation of a melody, and the next day he'll carve a snake on a measuring stick because he can't stand leaving anything empty. His runes are gorgeous and not even a counting stick is left unframed."

"Svein carves runes?"

"He also drums a rhythm on everything he sits on, not like you do, but real rhythms in complicated patterns. Once, he made flutes from different size branches just to see how they sounded together."

"Svein makes flutes? Why didn't I know about any of this?!"

Hrefna didn't reply, she just fell silent and kept on cutting pieces of smoked meat down into the pot.

"So. What do we do about all of this… this."

"I am not sure what you mean. There really isn't anything for anyone to handle. Everything will go on as it should and one day I will wake up and the feelings will have passed."

"Shit."

"I am sorry that I have made you upset."

"What can I do to make you even like me?"

Now she turned to look at him, frowning.

"But I just told you. Didn't you listen?"

Her voice was still calm and measured, and she spoke slowly with no sign of intent to frame or feint.

"I want to be a good husband, but I've never done this before."

"I try to be a good wife, but it's hard to go from a home where you are treasured to… not."

Thorstein sat still for a while, watching her. It was really hard not playing gotcha to win like he used to.

"Is that why you're cold?"

"Cold?"

"At night."

"I didn't know you expected something I don't give you."

"Yes, I expect a bedmate to show some enjoyment."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what other women feel that I don't."

"Don't you feel anything?"

She hesitated, the question left to hang in the air. Finally she turned away and said:

"You're hurting me."

"I what?"

"It feels like I split."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't know that was unusual."


Thorstein sighed. Hrefna was still cutting things down into the lunch pot, but her eyes darted up at him every few seconds until finally he sighed a second time.

"You know what. I think we should start over."

"Start over?"

"I am going to go away for a few days. When I return, we will both pretend we haven't had a really shitty first couple of weeks. I'll get whatever mead I can wrangle out of my mother's hands, steal the crown, borrow the ritual goblet and then we'll go out and get re-married somewhere on the grounds, away from prying eyes and nosy younglings. I don't promise I'll be some kind of model husband afterwards, but I promise I'll be better. And I promise to find a way to make things… not hurt."

"That sounds like a lot of work. Thank you."

He grimaced, as if he'd bitten into a sour apple.

"Sometimes, you need to invest towards future interest. Or at least that's what my elders told me."


So Thorstein invited his elders to join him for a two day ride east, and although their father was needed elsewhere, his elder brother was not.

"You didn't bring me just to find a gift for Svein, did you?"

"No."

"Why do you need a gift for Svein anyway?"

Thorstein was obviously struggling. Finally, he said:

"I need you to not be a dickhead about a few things."

"I'll try. If I slip, slap me."

He nodded and began.

"So, yesterday I had to look at my own reflection for a while and there was a lot there I'm not very proud of. And some of it is about Svein, some of it is about Hrefna and some of it just about not being the man I imagined I would be when I grew up."

"I can see that. We've all been there, if it helps. For me that started with six speckled hens."

"So now I need a gift for Svein because I've cut him short for a long time, and he needs me to not be so much like our late big brother. Did you know he could compose melodies and pace a drum?"

"Yes, I actually did know that."

"Did you know he carves runes? Not like a counting stick, like words with meaning?"

"Yes, I knew that too."

"Did you know he makes snakes and dragons and wolf heads?"

"No, that I didn't know."

"So, I need to find an instrument. I don't know if it matters which kind, as long as it is fine enough to be a gift and hard enough to learn not to be an insult. And after that, I need to find a way to beat him."

Eskils eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead, but he kept silent, waiting for Thorstein to continue.

"You know, I've been competing with you all my life, I know how to do that. But I have no idea how to compete with Svein, because he has always just… you know… been there, and not made a lot of fuss about himself. But all of a sudden he's good at listening and not being a jerk and making people feel treasured."

"And by people, you mean your wife."

"Obviously. So that changes the game. I mean, Svein doesn't even have a game, how do you beat a man in a game he doesn't play?"

Eskil squinted at his little brother. Right now, he seemed so very, very young.

"Maybe that's your problem right there. How can you not be a jerk when all you're doing is counting points?"

Thorstein looked blank, so Eskil continued,

"The worst thing is that you can score as many points as you want, you can win the entire game and she still won't like you any better." He frowned. "Are you sure it's a good idea to leave them alone for two days?"

Thorstein made a dismissive gesture with his left hand, ring glinting in the morning light.

"She's not going to do anything, she is way too perfect for that. She'll be calm and patient and dutiful and he wouldn't understand a thing anyway unless she crawls down between his sleepskins naked. That's the last thing I'm worried about." He paused. "I wish she would just scream at me, it would make me feel much better."

"And the role you want me to play in all of this is…"

"To teach me how to husband."

"You will need to be more specific than that."

"Being good? I don't know. Like, how do you manage to make Kildevi feel like you listen?"

Eskil shrugged.

"I assume that what she says is worth hearing. It usually is."

"Yes, but your wife is interesting, she does things, she knows powerful secrets."

"Maybe, but you'd be surprised how seldom we talk about that."

"What did you talk about last night, for example?"

Thorstein waited while Eskil went through his memory.

"First of all, that you had asked me on this trip, and if I should look for something special for her at the market. She told me that Alfhild is turning both ways now, and that Geir has his first loose tooth and can't stop tugging it until it bleeds. I asked her to give Hrefna some extra attention and she promised to do that. Then I told her about my plans to pick up trade to the east in the upcoming years. I don't really feel like going mercenary for years now, but I'd die inside if I never went out again."

Thorstein pondered this for a while as they rode towards midday.

"I think I can do that."

"Good. And then you ask her nicely, even about simple things that're her job to do."

"I do do that, I ask her about things!"

"No. You don't. Next point."

Thorstein gave him a glare, but let it pass.

"The next point is sensitive. I'm putting a lot of trust in you here."

"I promise not to tell everyone, just Asbjorn."

"Good, he's still easy to lock in the stockroom."

Thorstein paused.

"No, it's embarrassing. She doesn't like to be in bed with me, because it hurts. She didn't tell me either, I had to drag it out of her. That is a first for me, I've even prided myself in always finding very willing mates."

"So, you've shared a bed for a month and you didn't drag it out of her until now?"

"No. I mean, she has never said anything and sometimes she asks me, so I thought… Why would anyone ask for something they don't like?"

Eskil had started to look exasperated, and now it leaked into his voice too.

"How many reasons do you want? I'm not even a woman and I can give you several!"

"But I don't understand what's wrong, and I don't know what to do about it. And she expects me to know!"

"You are very … blessed, in some ways. Maybe that's the problem?"

"Well, that has never been a problem before, and I did what I always do. I wonder if there is something wrong with her?"

This time, Eskil slapped the back of his head, and his face didn't look like it was in jest.

"There is nothing wrong with her, stupid. There is something wrong with you. You've been laying down with wives in their twenties and thirties, all keen enough to grab a chance when they see it. Then you get a nervous first time bride and 'do what you always do'. What did you think was going to happen?"

Thorsteins voice rose towards a defensive falsetto.

"I honestly didn't think there was much of a difference!"

"Didn't you notice something was wrong? Idiot."

"Don't call me an idiot, just show me how to not be one."

"I am not going to show you. I can try to explain, then you're on your own."

"Our beds are back to back. You could just let me watch…"

"I could, but I won't."

"So, if you were dumped in a bed with a girl who had never touched a cock in her life, you would…"

"Take my time to talk before I touch and keep my eyes and ears wide open. I can't believe I have to tell you this now!"

"Maybe you should have told me in time, then. Could have saved us all some trouble."

Eskil threw him a frustrated glance.

"You know, my wife even asked me if I was sure you knew what to do and I - wrongly - said yes because she was joking."


Thorlev stood waiting for them when they returned the next day, and helped them unload and unsaddle the horses. When Thorstein disappeared into the longhouse he took a step closer to his eldest son.

"So, how did it go?"

Eskil snorted.

"You've raised a moron."

"That bad?"

"Nah, give him time. He'll be fine."


Thorstein was wiser than given credit for though, because he did as he had promised: he nicked from the mead in the stockroom, stole the bride crown and goblet from Alfrida's personal chest, and after his second wedding he was on the path to become not only a much better - not perfect - husband and brother, but had permanently moved his head several thumbs breadths out of his own arse.



Two weeks later, Eskil finally took the bull by the horns.

"So, how did it go with the embarrassing problem?"

Thorstein smiled.

"Better."

"What did you do?"

"I asked your wife. She was more helpful than you."

Eskils eyebrows shot up.

"You asked Kildevi."

"Yep."

"And what did she say?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Yes, I actually would. I'm very curious."

"It involved a sealed keg."

"And…"

"And that's all you're getting."