Chapter 45
Sleep avoids me. Exhaustion does not allow my racing mind to rest. Images flash through my mind as I lie alone in the dark. Sweet notes from the birch cinders fill the room even after the glow of embers has died down.
My own house, my own furs. How things have changed. Everything has gone so fast. Stealing Asbjorn’s seax feels like yesterday, yet it also feels like an eternity has passed. From thief to thrall to Volva.
With my new title, I constantly need to remind myself that I am still a slave. A privileged slave. All this can be taken from me. My body, my life—they are still property. But not my will, not me. Not Kilda. I know where I stand. Ylvin knows.
Ari, Vidar, Ylvin, Eidunn. Interactions play again and again through my head.
What could I have done differently? I always make such a mess of everything.
It’s time for me to control myself. To meet others with honor.
Ari has tried to support me. Vidar is being nice, offering his help. How do I treat them? Like offal.
Eidunn, her hardship. How can everyone ignore her plight? Surely, they know. I haven’t even spoken with Njord properly. Just seen him in the hall. I have no time for abusive assholes. But Eidunn, her I have time for.
Sleep. I need sleep. Breathing deeply, I lie on my back and clear my head. There’s always tomorrow. Tomorrow I can change. Be better. Tomorrow I can keep studying Sigurd’s items. Like the hammer.
The ring, the necklace—both powerful items. Laden with energies I can only dream of conjuring. Yet today I could touch them without invasive visions. I tried to summon the necklace’s magic again, to witness the lynx, but to no avail. Why?
I flip on my stomach, kicking fur from my feet.
I’m too hot. I wish I could ask Ylvin. She would know.
She would teach me. What would she say about the hammer?
Whatever is contained within it is suffering.
Unreachable. It’s the hammer that reaches out, ripping at its cage, waiting for the right moment.
The right moment for savagery. I have no idea what it is.
But I felt its pulse, its clawing lust. That terrifying Volva in the vision.
A heavy burden for its wielder, whoever it’s tied to.
I raise myself on my hands. No repose. Groa had once told me some fresh air helped clear her mind on sleepless nights. Nights like this one. The air is warm. My blue robe will do.
A balmy wind strokes my face, sweeping away worries as the scent of wild mint fills my nostrils.
My bare feet land on the moist grass that surrounds my shack.
Grateful for its soothing coolness, I take long steps away from the farm.
An unusual shape catches my attention. Sitting next to a tree.
With widening eyes, I freeze to observe the majestic creature before me.
A lynx. Its eyes shine like mystical beacons in the dim light, unmoving from my own.
A shiver of delight slides down the back of my head.
What a blessing. A sign from the giver herself, our noble lady Freya.
My smile blooms. The lynx’s yellow eyes hold mine for one timeless heartbeat. I am not alone.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Perhaps spooked by my words, the creature vanishes before me, melding into the shadows of the woods behind it.
Gone like it appeared, without warning. As elusive as the vision from the necklace.
But now I know—every step I take, Freya walks with me.
If fate rules us all, it will have to adapt its plans. I choose my destination.
My body vibrates from this shared moment, yet my shoulders relax.
My muscles find peace. Now I can sleep. Rest is needed for tomorrow’s challenges.
I take steps backward to return to my house, hoping to spot the forest guardian again.
It watches me as it pleases. I can only see it when it pleases.
As I turn—movement up the hill. A woman, returning to the longhouse.
It’s Eidunn.
“Psssst,” I whisper, wanting to catch her attention without waking the others. “Psssst.”
She is startled, her body jumping. As I take swift steps toward her, she shakes her head and waves me away. Like I care. What is she doing? Why is my friend skulking about in the night? A pit forms in my stomach. I already know the answer.
“Go sleep,” she hisses.
“I was going to,” I reply. “But what are you doing?”
She doesn’t turn to me, keeping her face pointed at her destination.
“Going to bed,” she replies, taking a step forward.
I move quickly, blocking her path. Eidunn turns her head, again keeping only half her face visible to me. She’s hiding something. I can guess what it is. I’m worried I’m right.
“So late?”
“Fuck off, Kilda.”
She begins moving around me, but by Odin, I’m not letting her escape. I step into her space. Our chests collide.
“What the fuck, Kil—”
I ignore her complaints, grabbing her chin and turning her face forcibly. The side of her lip is swollen, making her mouth asymmetrical and uneven. A dark bruise is spreading beneath the swelling. Eidunn, the most gorgeous girl in the valley, has been disfigured.
“Fuck’s sake, Eidunn,” I whisper.
“Leave it!” she snarls, smacking my hand away as her eyes flash in panic. Loss of honor is just another layer to the pain she carries.
“My ass, leave it. Who did this?”
“Mind your business, witch.”
“Why did he hurt you?”
Eidunn steps back, her usually beautiful features twisted in a defiant glare. She carries venom in her voice.
“Not every slave girl can speak freely without punishment.”
“Was it Njord?”
“Mind your fucking business.”
She walks around me, but I block her again.
“Tell me wha—”
Her hand whips across my face, shocking me. A burning sensation invades my skin. If she would just let me help. Such pride has no place among friends. I keep my eyes on her, prepared to dodge the next attack.
“I just want to—”
“Stop my walk again—I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Eidunn, I—”
“On my honor, Kilda.”
I step out of her way, letting her stalk toward the longhouse.
Her form becomes smaller before disappearing into the thrall quarters. Poor woman. Her anger. It’s justified. Even if it’s directed at me. This has gone on long enough. None of my girls will suffer in silence. I won’t allow it.
Very well, Eidunn, you win. I will mind my own business.
But it just so happens, you are my fucking business.