Chapter 5
RASHA
All the women who were watching the competition, along with Katrine and Joanna, thunder onto the field to congratulate me. Trying to see where Shaw went over their pretty braids and fur covered hoods is impossible, so I succumb to the easement of celebration.
“My heart is still pounding!” Katrine shouts, giving me a good pat on the back.
“You’re playing with fire, going head to head with a man while Harald is watching,” a woman I don’t recognize says in warning. She wears the colors of the Jarl, so I assume she lives here.
“The man I tied with doesn’t seem interested in what Harald thinks.” I keep looking behind us to see if Shaw is still around, and nearly half the women giggle.
“The smith is the strong, silent type,” a woman with brown, loose hair chuckles. “He’s everything Harald is not, but Harald invited him here as the goldsmith for your wedding rings. My name is Enora, and this wet blanket is Ingrid.”
“I am advising her to be cautious. As we all should,” Ingrid whispers, her small frame shivering under a big cloak.
“We’ve lived here our whole life and never seen anything so amazing,” Enora exclaims.
“So are you going to tell me what you know about Shaw?” I ask, pressing my lips together to stifle my need for information.
“Only if you teach me how to shoot like that,” Enora replies.
I raise my eyebrows at her boldness. Finally, someone around here who isn’t scared of challenging men.
Following the group of women off the field, I give Jorvik a sweet wave.
I earned this moment, and I’ve missed having company to talk too.
“I can teach you. Though I am alarmed that Harald and his men haven’t trained you?” I ask, and a few women behind me fall silent.
“Harald recommends we tend to the fields and our chores. But…”
“Enora. Hush,” Ingrid says, wedging herself between us. Glancing to my other side, I see Katrine and Joanna are hanging on the women’s admission that they truly are held back from learning crucial Viking skills.
“We cannot talk out here where anyone could overhear,” Ingrid explains.
The women’s longhouse is in the middle of the village, giving us a beautiful view of the roaring Yule fire on our way.
Embers smolder underneath, melting all the snow in the ceremonial circle, and the tall flames send plumes of white smoke into the cloudy sky.
“It feels like a storm is coming,” I say to break the awkward silence that followed Enora’s mention of the King.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Joanna adds. “Twelve days of feasting is exhausting. A few days of being snowed in and napping would suit me just fine.” She lets a tiny grin perk up her thin lips, and I wonder if she’s thinking of the lynx sleeping off her fever back in the stronghold.
We follow the women into the longhouse, and the instant smell of familiarity overwhelms me.
Having double the amount of unwed women here means cots line the edge of the main room, and bedding is everywhere.
I grin at how little Harald knows of his own clanswomen after accusing me of lying in a pile of my friends.
I’m sure there were women here who cuddled together last night for warmth.
“Welcome, Maiden of Yule.” Enora turns to face me, giving us all an outlandish, sweeping bow. “Our messy but comfortable home is also yours.”
I step over bags of extra clothes and pillows strewn across the floor toward the circular fire pit in the middle of the open room. Women casually chatting with one another walk into hallways leading to their rooms, and others find an assortment of cups for hot drinks.
“So tell me, why does Harald keep you all from hunting or using weapons?” I ask, finding a plush seat next to the fire.
“The King gave him orders too,” Enora starts explaining, but her friend interrupts.
“You are going to get us banished from the Wild Hunt or worse. Sorry, but I can’t get into any trouble. My family needs me to marry,” Ingrid says, unfastening her coat.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble.” I try to assure them, but it doesn’t feel like Ingrid believes me. Katrine and Joanna come to sit, handing out cups of hot tea, and Enora grabs a flask, adding a bit of liquor to each cup.
“I have heard stories that the goddess Skadi is buried here. Does anyone know where?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.
“Skadi is disgraced, and Harald is going to be livid that you won that archery match. The people will be praying for a feast in your name now, and that will make Harald jealous of the attention you are getting.” Ingrid is quick to explain.
“Why is she disgraced?” I bring the discussion back to Skadi.
“Think, Rasha. Harald may have the King’s support and favor, but only if he can get the Vikings in line. According to songs we no longer sing, Skadi was a goddess who renounced her betrothed and the realm of the gods to live on her own.”
“That sounds like a goddess we should be praying to, not disgracing,” I retort. Enora’s face lights up as she drinks, and the majority of the women nod in agreement. But Ingrid has a permanent scowl on her face.
Joanna perks up to add, “Harald and the King will force us eventually if we do not learn to live in the King’s new ways. None of us wants to be wed against our wishes. But Jorvik arranged for you to marry, and therefore, you can protect us as best as you can.”
“I know. I will always try to protect you. That is why I want to find the bow. It is a symbol of balance, and the other clan leaders will have to respect it.”
“You don’t understand.” Ingrid keeps her light eyes urgently fixed upon me. “They don’t care about the balance of the Immortal Realm and our world. The King doesn’t believe in the gods and goddesses.”
“Help me find the tomb so we have proof that we are not alone in this mountain range, that the gods are with us?” I am going out on a limb, which is dangerous, but there are too many women here who look at me like what I’ve agreed too will set the standard for the rest of them.
“That is impossible. The songs about the shrine and Skadi’s bow haven’t been sung in our lifetime. We can’t read the scrolls if Harald hasn’t burned them all already,” Ingrid says.
Sipping the hot tea, I contemplate what to say.
The after burn of the liquor in each mouthful radiates down my chest and into my stomach.
Joanna and Katrine engage in other conversations around me while I try to find a common ground between Enora, who wants me to defy the Jarl, and Ingrid, who would prefer I teach all the women how to skin a deer rather than hunt one.
Slowly, the tension in the room unwinds as the women stock the fire pit with logs, and the room reaches a toasty temperature.
I should find a reason to leave and check on the lynx, but Enora has something of the tip of her tongue, which makes me hesitate.
Someone asks Ingrid to show her how to do a particular stitch for a dress, and she moves to help.
Enora pounces on the moment and slides next to me in the pillows, putting her feet on the edge of the fire pit.
“Ingrid is scared. Please don’t think less of her,” she says as she fluffs her brown hair, each section falling over her shoulders in waves.
“What happened when Harald declared women could no longer hunt?” I don’t want to ask, but need to so I can understand what I am up against.
“Any woman who didn’t comply was killed in public. Over the summer, her mother was one of them.”
“Oh, Enora. I don’t know what to say.”
“She is determined to marry a man who is on Harald’s council to protect herself. Maybe Bjorn? But I hate that for her. She fears many people will be killed if they don’t bend the knee once Yule is over. And there’s more.”
“That sounds like enough.” My grip on the cup tightens as she continues.
“I’ve poured drinks for Harald’s council, and well, I’ve stayed later in their rooms then maybe I should have.
” Enora rubs her own arms, trying to shake feelings that I know all too well.
“Your brother, Jorvik, and Harald want nothing more than to see the King and attempt to sit at his court. Whatever that is.”
Sighing at my predetermined fate, I say, “I know Jorvik’s ambition will be the death of him and me.”
“There are plenty of women who will follow you away from here,” Enora encourages.
“If I don’t have the gods on my side, it is going to be impossible to have the support of the men, and without strength, we are as good as slaves if I don’t marry Harald at the end of Yule,” I say, staring at the crisscross threads of the blanket over my knees.
“What did you want to know about Shaw?” Enora moves back to my original question.
“Did he pledge to Harald?” I ask, looking at the angle of the sun out of the longhouse window. I need to wrap this up and return to the lynx.
“No, and it pisses Harald off. Shaw lives alone somewhere in the Sacred Forest. He comes occasionally with weapons that outmatch all of ours, and he knows things that no one else does. Like when Harald was building the stronghold, Shaw came to teach the other blacksmiths how to make things like hinges. But he tends to disappear for years at a time.”
“Well he bleeds like every other Viking,” I reply, and Enora gives me a once over as she waits for any other details I have about the mysterious smith. “I saw him in the medicine room this morning, that’s all. He looked like he got into it with someone, and then, on the field, he seemed fine.”
“He is going to be very sought after by the women at the Wild Hunt because he never stays for the entirety of Yule. Luckily for all of us, we have days to prepare.”
“Speaking of preparing, I should go.” I use the opening in the conversation to stand and search the room for Joanna and Katrine.
“You can come here anytime!” Enora shouts after me, and I look back, giving her my warmest smile.
I follow the sounds of Katrine’s exuberant voice down one of the hallways.
She’s sitting in the middle of a few women, retelling a story of one of our hunting trips where I took down a moose.
Flicking her eyes over to me as I lean on the doorframe, she suddenly throws her body down in the blankets, pretending to be the moose.
All the women clap at her performance until they realize I am standing there.
“I just wanted to let you know I was going back,” I say, and Katrine scoots off the bed, taking the blanket with her to wrap around her shoulders.
“Do you want us to come with you?”
“No,” I reply. Katrine shifts, blocking the rest of the women from listening to what we say. “You don’t have to make me out to be larger than life.”
“Yes, I do. If you are going to find that bow and convince these women to follow you, I need to make them believe in your abilities,” she counters, pressing her full lips together till the pink turns white.
“I thought you didn’t agree?”
Her voice drops to a whisper. “I don’t want you to get killed. Either way, you need more than Joanna and I on your side.”
Giving her hand a squeeze, I thank her for her support and leave the women’s longhouse. Everyone is busy this afternoon, playing games in the field or finding comfort indoors with music and drink, so my walk back to the stronghold is uneventful.
Past the tall stone walls, I see the tips of the mountain range, and below lies the frozen fjord.
The biggest obstacle in finding the tomb will be the weather and the lack of a map.
If what the women are saying about how Harald feels regarding the gods and goddess is true, then he will have gotten rid of any of the texts talking about Skadi and chiseled out any of her runes around the village.
I will have to find someone who’s been here longer or outlived Harald’s council.
Wracking my brain for an idea, I stuff my hands in my pockets to keep them from getting cold, and my fingers hit an extra pouch from the medicine room.
The memory of Shaw’s bruised face laying on the cot distracts me, and the way he shot today is also curious.
Why would someone who seems like they have so much to offer any clan choose to live alone?
The women said he is a smith, and smiths work in the forge right by the stronghold, so it won’t be hard to see him again.
Taking the steps two at a time, I happily use the key to open my door and give thanks to Freya that I didn’t run into any trouble on my way back.
The fire still smolders in the hearth, and the cat is curled up close to the flames.
Taking off my heavy coat and snow crusted pants, I gather the loose linen top over my head.
“Rasha.” I hear his voice from somewhere in the room.