Chapter 10
Chatter and laughter fill the dimly lit room.
The thralls are in a good mood this evening.
We received a hearty deer soup, a thick fatty broth filled with turnip, cabbage, and nettles.
All brought together by a blend of herbs picked by a master.
I inhale its rich smell, feeling my mouth water.
We eat in a separate room from the free folk—a reminder of our value.
Even so, I am grateful as I sprinkle extra salt into my steaming bowl.
As a free woman, I have never eaten so well as I do here in Opdal.
“The bastard shouted for its mother!” says a man at the other end of the table. “Stuck like Fenrir in his chain.”
The men laugh.
“Goats,” says another. “I wonder what Thor sees in them.”
Naturally, I am sitting at the other end of the table, with the women, who are busier eating than joking.
We’re all on our second portion, except for Eidunn, who sits across from me pushing chunks of meat around her bowl.
She has barely eaten. The weight on her mind drags down the mood among the ladies.
“The men are merry,” I say to the group, but it’s aimed at Eidunn.
Some of the women nod or make grunts of confirmation, engrossed in their bowls. Eidunn raises her gaze to meet mine, holding my eyes. I crack a smile, hoping to warm her spirits.
“Men have reason to be lighthearted,” she says before returning to her stirring.
“True,” I respond. “But when I observe their simple minds and manners, I am happy to be born a woman.”
“I’ll cheer to that,” says the old cook who fed me breakfast, Ausveig. She holds up her wooden cup with a grin. I raise my own cup in response, unable to hide my surprise.
“She speaks!” I say with a laugh.
“Only to the worthy,” she responds with a wink.
Ausveig’s words kindle a fire in my chest. Her praise wraps around me like a warm cloak. If she accepts me, the rest will too. A good start.
“I am most honored, Ausveig.”
By now all the women have raised their cups, holding them up against one another.
Only one is missing. All eyes turn to Eidunn.
Finally, she raises her cup with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head.
All the women cheer as we smack them together in unison, making thin ale spill all over the table.
We all laugh before taking a long drink.
Even Eidunn grows a smile. The room brightens with her, even if she doesn’t notice. She’s reachable.
The men, noticing us enjoying ourselves, do the same, cheering before emptying their own cups. They are quickly refilled. The atmosphere in the room is lighter—everyone finds common ground when spilling ale as one.
Father’s crew did the same. Drunks holding up their cups as if they still had something to celebrate. This is different.
“Kilda,” says Ausveig, after the noise has died down. She speaks with her mouth full. I suppress a laugh. “I hear you read runes.”
“I’m a beginner, but yes.”
“Can you bless us with enchantments?”
“I was training with a Volva before I was captured. I have not mastered enchanting yet, but I will.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Eidunn paying attention to our conversation.
“Well,” says the cook. “Spending time with a Volva, surely you have learned a few tales?”
“Indeed, I have.”
“Won’t you do us a kindness? Tonight, share a story with us. Just the ladies.”
My heart glows—what a great idea. Just the women. I will gain their trust. They will be grateful. Influence.
“What a brilliant idea,” I say, beaming.
“Then it is decided,” says Ausveig.
The women around the table nod at me, eager for entertainment.
Only Eidunn keeps her eyes in her bowl. She avoids eye contact.
She avoids conversation. What is plaguing this poor woman?
I have a role to play. On an impulse, I stand and walk around the table, leaning over Eidunn so only she can hear me.
“If you ever want to share your burden,” I say, “my ear is yours—without judgment.”
Eidunn’s shoulders twitch, as if she’s bracing for an attack instead of support. For a second, I hope to see her open up. But she just looks up at me, her brow furrowed.
“Don’t you come here thinking that—”
“Kilda,” I hear a man behind me. Vidar. “My father wishes words.”
Eidunn stiffens, turning her face away.
“One second,” I respond, holding up a finger. “What were you saying?” I ask her.
Vidar grabs my shoulder gruffly. I had forgotten my status. I am a thrall. I am owned.
“I wasn’t asking.”
He pushes me to the door. He treats me as his father treats him. Like a child.
I can only obey.