Chapter 27
We clean the plates in silence. Ari hasn’t even gloated.
He just avoids eye contact. Usually, he parades about like the glittering peacock I had seen at Kaupang.
But now, his shoulders are sunken, and he doesn’t look me in the face.
Kaupang. The vibrant Viking trade port feels worlds away.
And it is—I wish we had never traveled north.
The trade port’s massive buildings and markets are a sharp contrast to the woods around me. Back then, I was but a wide-eyed girl.
“That’s the dishes then,” I say, but he only shrugs and turns to fetch something in our tent.
Sharing the tent hadn’t been that bad. Some mild snoring from Ari was the worst that happened. Ausveig’s snoring is louder. But that isn’t really the point. My reputation could be ruined. My life destroyed. My honor defiled. How can he not understand that?
Still, even I have to admit, I may have overreacted. Just a bit. Who insults people’s ancestors? It’s just not normal. Ari was told to share a tent with me—it wasn’t even his decision. Regret gnaws at my stomach. A wyrm that won’t stop until its teeth turn to dust.
“Kilda,” I hear from the main lavvu. “You’re up already.”
The sun has been up for a couple of hours. Down in the valley, both thralls and freemen have already been working for a long time. This lady hasn’t even eaten breakfast. Still, I bow my head as she comes out.
“Yes, Volva. The dishes are done.”
“Lovely,” she says. “You truly are diligent. You slept well, I presume?”
I raise my gaze, trying not to swallow my tongue. Ylvin has her hair loose, dark curls cascading down her bare shoulders. She is carrying an enormous white fur to cover the rest of her body, barely cover, in fact—the fur is held so low I can almost see her nipples.
“Well, I—”
“Good to hear,” she says, lifting her fur. “A bit chilly, isn’t it?”
She’s right, it’s a cold morning for this time of year. The sun is covered by clouds, and a wind buffets us from the west. From the ocean. But it’s not that cold if one puts on some clothes.
“Where is Ari?” she asks as her blue eyes scan me up and down. I wonder if they stand out because of the contrast to her dark hair and pale skin, or if they glow from some ancient magic she can wield.
“He’s in the tent,” I answer, lowering my eyes from her seductive form. What is she? Some unknown sex-goddess lost to time? Freya reborn? Would Freya be so liberal with her body? The Goddess of Love and Fertility had her fair share of partners, according to the stories.
“Perfect!” she announces, tucking her fur around her arms. “Come then, it’s warmer inside. We will chase out Elof.”
“Very well, my lady,” I respond, making her turn suddenly.
“Kilda, please, let go of this ‘my lady this’ or ‘my lady that’ business. You are not my slave. Call me Ylvin.”
“Very well, Ylvin.”
“That’s better. Come now.”
She walks into the lavvu, hips swaying. It’s dark inside, lit only by the orange glow of embers in the firepit.
The hole at the top of the structure allows for smoke to escape.
Ours must have a hole, but I didn’t notice last night—too busy raging at Ari.
The smell of bodies hangs in the air, but I don’t find it revolting. It feels like a home.
“Get up, Elof!” she shouts at her husband. He merely grunts and rolls over on his side, probably irritated at such an unceremonious greeting. The love for his wife must be endless to accept such treatment.
The room is covered in furs, all white or light gray.
Again, I wonder how they transported everything.
There’s a table covered in talismans and herbs, her staff of simple wood leans against it.
An ornate dagger lies among the other items. I’m happy to see it’s not covered in blood.
Benches covered in furs sit along the walls.
Looking up, I see more talismans hanging from the support beams.
It’s cleaner than I thought it would be.
“Wake up, you troll!” she shouts as she smacks him on the shoulder.
The man grunts again as he raises himself from the furs they share.
My eyes instantly get drawn to his crotch—I can’t help it.
The man is stark naked and unbothered by my presence.
He is also partially erect, as men so often are in the morning.
So I am told. Elof stretches his arms. I turn my head away.
It takes Ylvin a couple seconds to catch on.
“By Odin, Elof, put on some pants! There’s an innocent maiden in the tent!”
“Oh, sorry,” he mumbles.
I hear him scratching some body part. I’m not going to guess which one.
“A shirt wouldn’t hurt either, my dear,” she purrs as she gives him an audible kiss. “It’s cold outside.”
“Thank you, my love,” he mumbles.
“Now off you go, to teach Ari what he needs to know.”
“Good luck,” he says as I hear him walk out. I turn my gaze back to Ylvin as my cheeks cool off. What a scene.
“Happy blessings, darling,” she says as she closes the entry flap. She sits where Elof had been lying, relaxing.
“Men,” she laughs. “Such beasts. Finally, it’s just us ladies. Please sit.”
I nod, trying to repress the nervous icicle in my throat. Finding a fur-covered bench, I straighten my back.
“So,” says Ylvin. “Where to sta—”
She interrupts herself.
“Pspsps,” she says as she rubs her fingers together.
A particularly fat cat jumps forward from my bench, making a loud thump as it lands on the ground. Its white fur is well-kept and clean. I hadn’t noticed it lying beside me.
“You know cats,” says Ylvin. “Not seen unless they want it. Like us Volvas.”
Us Volvas? I’ll take that as a compliment.
The cat jumps into Ylvin’s lap, seeking warmth and cuddles.
The Volva strokes the animal, which releases a purr.
The movement causes the fur Ylvin is wrapped in to slide, exposing one of her breasts.
Her entire body is so white, it’s clear she doesn’t do a lot of work in the sun. Unlike me or the other thrall ladies.
“Did you know cats are Freya’s favorite animal?” she asks.
“Yes,” I reply, happy to show my knowledge. “Freya’s chariot is pulled by two giant cats. Groa had one too.”
“Very good. I’m happy you know about the gods. Groa is your previous Volva, I presume?”
“Correct.”
Ylvin lies back, lost in thought. She spreads her legs slightly, relaxing her body.
Her fur splits to expose her stomach, barely covering her crotch.
Otherwise, I would see straight into her womanhood.
Her milky complexion takes on the color of the embers.
A body bathed in orange and shadows—some mythical being.
She’s quite surreal sitting there with her fat cat.
“You know what,” she begins. “I don’t know Groa, so it may be better to forget what she taught you. Keep that in mind as we go on.”
I definitely won’t forget Groa’s teachings, but I nod nonetheless.
“Yes, Ylvin. May I ask you something?”
“Go on.”
“The curse on the hammer, Sigurd said that he had—”
“I dreamed about you, you know?” she says.
“You… you did?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, it wasn’t a nightmare,” she laughs.
Her eyes bore into me, making me flash a quick smile. Seconds pass before she breaks the silence.
“So, tell me something.”
“Tell you what?”
“Anything.”
“Uh, I… What do you mean?”
“By the gods, girl, tell me something about yourself.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. I can’t cook?”
She howls in laughter, making the cat open its eyes wide before it relaxes again.
“Funny. That makes two of us,” she says with a grin. “Lucky we have men. But no, tell me something juicier. Tell me something that will taste like the ripest, wettest pear.”
What does she mean? I’m starting to wonder if she’s just a raving maniac who scammed Jarl Sigurd for his money.
“I am enslav—”
“I know.”
“For being a thie—”
“I know.”
“Isn’t that juicy?” I ask with a disbelieving laugh.
“You tell me? Is it juicy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yesterday, while waiting for your late arrival, I let Elof hammer me from behind, like some wild ram on a newly trimmed sheep.”
I snort. What a crazy thing to say. I stifle a giggle. Ylvin stays relaxed, a smug grin on her face.
“So?” she says. “What do you think?”
“Think about what?”
“About what I said of course!”
“Well… I, uh, I could smell it from your tent last night.”
She throws her head back in laughter, pointing a finger at me.
“Brilliant! See! Now you’re being honest!”
“What? I—”
“Would you ever have said that to me? Or to anyone?”
“Of course not!” I say, finally releasing my giggle.
“There you go, you said something you thought. No filter. I love it.”
I just laugh in response, feeling slightly lightheaded. What a crazy situation.
“Now,” continues Ylvin. “Tell me something juicy!”
“Uhm, well, I…”
I hesitate. What am I doing?
“Go on.” She smiles.
“I had… how can I—”
“Just say it, by Freya’s tits!”
“I had a lover before I was captured.”
Her eyes light up. A wolfish grin spreads on her face.
“Is that so? And me who just told Elof we had an innocent maiden in our midst. Naughty girl! Tell me more.”
“Tell you wha—”
“We can’t keep doing this, Kilda. Just share something juicy.”
“We would sneak off into the woods—he was always ready when I wanted.”
“Now we’re talking.”
Strangely, I’m excited. My body vibrates, egged on by Ylvin’s pressure.
“He was very soft with his touch.”
“Soft?”
“Yes,” I state simply.
She stands, raising a fist above her head. Madness enters her eyes. The cat barely reacts, as if this is normal behavior.
“Did he ever hammer you like mighty Thor crushing his enemies?!”
She is shouting at this point. Her fur falls to the ground and she stands completely naked in front of me, hand raised like Thor wielding Mjolnir. I catch a glimpse of the dark bush between her legs before turning my eyes to the side.
She laughs as she walks across the room.
“Now you have seen both my husband and me naked, all in one day.”