Chapter Six
Two mornings later, Hakon was sitting on a flat section of the roof of Thorulf’s house.
He was taking some time to think and reflect.
The house had been a grim place. Thankfully, Ignetha had sent word through a friend that she and the twins had found a safe place to lay low.
Shortly after that, Jarl Birger had sealed the city, and no news was getting in or out.
It was dark. Hakon could see the first hints of dawn on the horizon, the light struggling to break through the omnipresent cloud cover. The damn clouds. They brought gloom to every day and had certainly affected everyone’s mood.
Hakon shook his head ruefully. What a strange place I have come to.
A fortnight ago, he pulled an oar on Thorfin’s ship, turning to keep an eye on the outlines of the Jomsburg on the horizon, thinking about his home after a long and adventurous voyage away.
His thoughts had been somewhat on his parents, but mostly Sif.
Sif Astridsdottir. The path back to her had been filled with some unexpected turns, and his emotions had risen and fallen with them.
Joy at their reunion, followed by hurt and confusion at Sif’s subsequent rejection.
Finally, all of his feelings had been wrapped up in his resolute determination to keep Sif at his side, no matter what he had to do in the process.
The dynamic between Hakon and Sif had become much closer to what Hakon wanted to see. She acknowledged and submitted to his authority, and the intimacy between them had been glorious, better than anything he had dreamed of. Would that change with the arrival of the Sisters?
Better not. He was not going to let anyone move Sif from his side.
A hint of movement caught his eye, and he looked to see a winding line of women, carts, and horses slowly emerging from the morning mist. Hakon counted less than a hundred women, give or take.
At first, he was dismayed by such a small number; then, he realized that if each one was a powerful witch in her own right that this procession represented an astonishing amount of magical power.
The front door to the house burst open, and Hakon watched as Sif raced across the field to meet her Sisters.
He smiled as the woman he loved moved from embrace to happy embrace.
Hakon descended from the roof and made his way across Thorulf’s field to where the women clustered around Sif.
She turned her golden head to him, her face beaming.
“Hakon! Come meet my Sisters,” said Sif happily. “This is Baedi, who has been my chief teacher in the arts of spellsinging. This is Gunhilde, and this is Sigrid, two of the Elder Sisters who guide the fate of the Ironwood.”
“I am honored to meet you all,” said Hakon, nodding his head. “I owe you my thanks for the time and care you have taken with the woman I love.”
Hakon winced internally at how awkward and stiff he sounded. If they noticed, the Ironwood Sisters gave no sign of it. “Hakon, our Sister Sif has told us much about you,” said Baedi with a kind smile. “We are most grateful to you for keeping Sif safe until we could arrive.”
Hakon recognized the implications behind Baedi’s statement and did his best not to bristle. Instead, he said simply, “You are welcome, but my watch is not ended. Wherever Sif goes, I go also.”
The one named Gunhilde had deep-set eyes that glittered with wry amusement. “Of course, young man. I don’t believe anyone was implying that we have a say in where you go. Although unfortunately, it appears that Jarl Birger has a say in all of our movements.”
“Gods,” said Hakon, shaking his head. “What a stupid mess. I must apologize. We failed to persuade the Jarl of the true nature of the threat we face.”
“The old prejudices run deep,” replied Gunhilde. “Don’t blame yourself, young man. I’m sure you all tried your best, but I know all too well of the stubbornness of those set in their ways.”
“What should we do?” asked Sif. “The Jarl has sealed Visby. We cannot get in.”
“We’ll try to get his attention another way,” said Gunhilde. “Baedi, please share our plans with our young spellsinger here. Sigrid and I will see to building a camp here, with the homesteader’s permission of course.”
“Lady Gunhilde, my wife’s relationship with your Sisterhood stretches back many years,” replied Thorulf humbly. “In her absence, I will of course respect what I know she would wish. Please treat our home and lands as if they were your own.”
Gunhilde smiled but suddenly frowned as she followed the import of Thorulf’s words. “Absence?” she said sharply. “Where is Ignetha?”
“Come with me, and we shall see your Sisters encamped,” replied Thorulf. “I will tell you about it as we walk.” Soon, only Baedi remained with Hakon and Sif.
“So what is your plan?” asked Sif. Baedi smiled and put an arm around Sif’s shoulders. “I spoke to you a few days ago about the power of your sending,” said Baedi. “You broke through the mist that surrounds us all as if it were nothing. We would have you try to speak to Jarl Birger, mind to mind.”
“Is there any danger?” demanded Hakon.
“No,” replied the Ironwood witch. “Sif will be in no danger, no matter what happens. The key will be what Sif says to the Jarl, if she manages to establish a connection.”
“I don’t know what I’d say,” admitted Sif. “I’ve already failed once.”
“I disagree,” said Baedi. “You’ve tried once. You only fail once you stop trying. Now, let’s find a place where we won’t be disturbed and try again.”
“I’ll be joining you,” said Hakon firmly.
“If that is Sif’s wish, young man,” said Baedi, with a hint of asperity.
“It is her wish,” said Hakon.
Baedi turned to Sif, who blushed and nodded. Hakon flushed with triumph.
The three of them walked to the grove with the fallen tree that Sif had used earlier. Sif sat down on the fallen tree where Hakon had spanked and taken her. She shared an intimate sidelong glance with the warrior. Hakon tried to hide a predatory grin. Baedi gave no indication of having noticed.
Sif and the older witch spent some time in muttered conversation which Hakon made no attempt to overhear. When the two had concluded their talk, Sif closed her eyes and murmured rhythmically. Soon it was clear that although Sif’s body was sitting on the fallen tree, her mind was elsewhere.
Baedi regarded Hakon steadily. “So you have laid a claim on our Ironwood Sister.”
He nodded. “She is mine. Sif has promised herself to me in exchange for my sword.”
“You’re a fortunate man.”
“And I know it. Sif is everything to me,” said Hakon.
Baedi gave him a measuring stare. “You say that like you mean it.”
“To the last drop of my life’s blood,” stated Hakon simply.
“Good,” said Baedi, then, “she wakes. Let us pray to the Goddess that she was successful.”
Sif opened her eyes, panting for breath. “I talked to him!” she gasped. “He sang no song in response to mine, but I was able to open the way.”
“Well done, my love!” said Hakon proudly.
“Well done indeed, Sister,” agreed Baedi. “What did the Jarl have to say?”
Sif’s expression grew grave. “Once he got over the shock, little enough. He told me to pass on that he will neither drive you away nor open his gates to you. If the Skraelings are on the way, he says, we will know soon enough.”
Baedi sighed. “Such a man of half measures is the Jarl. Trying to drive us away would cost him warriors. Letting us in would risk betrayal. So once again he waits, and cripples his own ability to defend Visby, as well as our ability to give him aid.” The witch gave Sif a quick but strong hug.
“Well done. I will take my leave and tell Gunhilde and Sigrid of the Jarl’s decision.
” Baedi stepped lightly into the forest.
Sif tried to get up then quickly sat back down, leaning heavily on the fallen log. Hakon sat down next to her, holding her and letting her lean on him.
“Easy now,” said Hakon, stroking her hair. “This sending took a lot out of you, it seems.”
“It did,” murmured Sif. “It’s so much harder to reach out to an unwilling person.” She took a deep breath and snuggled into Hakon more tightly. “Baedi says I will get better with practice, but that was so hard.”
“You did well, my love,” said Hakon softly. “Very well indeed.” He continued to stroke her hair.
“Thank you, Hakon,” said Sif sleepily. “I’m so glad you’re here. I always feel so safe when I’m with you.”
“You are safe with me,” rumbled Hakon. “Rest now, my love. I will keep you safe and warm.” He gently slid them both down to the soft turf, leaned against the base of the fallen tree, and drew Sif into his arms. Her golden hair fell into his lap.
Hakon sighed and let himself settle into the base of the tree, watching the rise and fall of Sif’s chest. Very rarely, he felt, fate let you know that you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
There were battles in Hakon’s future, and he knew it.
He did not fear them; Hakon was good at the craft of war.
He loved to prove himself in battle, and for quite some time, his skill with sword and shield had been at the center of his world.
Sif, however, represented something different, something more.
Ultimately, a warrior had to fight for something, whether it be home, family, or his own honor.
The woman who lay sleeping against him represented something worth fighting for.
As quiet fell, Hakon could hear the noises of the forest come to the foreground.
He felt at peace with nature in a way that he had not for a very long time.
Hakon had no need to sleep, but he let himself rest. Finally, as the sun rose higher in the sky, he felt the pattern of Sif’s breathing change, and she stirred.
Hakon gently stroked her hair, bringing her back to wakefulness.
“Oh.” Sif opened her eyes, blinking. “Hakon,” she murmured, straightening and looking around. “I wasn’t expecting that. I was so tired!”