Chapter 48
My determination wanes. Light clouds of dust swirl around me as I walk along the road.
Ragnhild’s dream unsettled me. How many stories abound of Volvas being called dark witches?
Blamed for any evil and punished. Scapegoats.
Thyra was joking about me cursing her, but what if someone had heard it? Rumors spread fast.
I consider retreating to my house, lying in bed, escaping the world. But the memory of Eidunn’s discolored lip stops me from conceding defeat. I haven’t even seen her today. Something must be done, even if every step feels like I’m dragging chains behind me. Enough is enough.
The midday sun hammers my head, causing sweat to flood from my skin.
Or perhaps it’s my nerves. Fuck. I fidget with the sleeves of my robe.
For the first time since my return from Ylvin’s, I am unsure.
Am I taking it too far? Outing Njord’s abuse?
He’s a local-born warrior. A close friend of Vidar. They are blood-brothers.
Still, Vidar said I could approach him for anything. That’s what he said—anything. Finally, I arrive. The men have been working on a long stone fence for the cows and goats.
Vidar is sitting with some other men on a portion of the wall that is already built, enjoying a pause with some food and ale. He sees me approaching, stands, and dusts crumbs from his hands and clothes. He bows in an exaggerated fashion.
“Lady Volva,” he says.
The other men nod briefly at me, avoiding eye contact.
Maybe they are afraid of magical women, or do they consider me Vidar’s territory?
One of them is Njord, with a scar running from brow to jaw, proof of battle.
He’s big, almost as big as Vidar. These fucking Opdal men.
I fully ignore the eyes of the man who is dishonoring my friend—the man I will accuse of abuse.
“Lord Vidar,” I reply with a bow of my head. “I would have words.”
“You may speak them,” he says.
Njord takes a deep swig from his cup.
“Under four eyes, if you would.”
Stepping forward, he gives his men a smug look. Like he’s charmed me or some other fantasy. Like he’s bedded me and I’m begging for another round. I guess the men have been talking about me when I’m not present, as they do. But I don’t give a fuck. I’m here for Eidunn.
“Tell me, then,” says Vidar, stretching his shoulders to fully fill his form.
“It’s… I… Oof…”
“Is it something serious?” He looks concerned.
“You, uh, you said I could come to you with anything.”
“Yes, so speak, Kilda!” he says, amused by my fumbling.
“Well, it’s hard to formulate. I’m just going to say it straight.”
“Go on.”
My nerves shatter. The man is sitting a stone’s throw away.
These are serious accusations. Njord could be severely punished.
So could I, if I’m not believed. Slander is not taken lightly, especially among honorable warriors.
Eidunn doesn’t even want me doing this. She said she would kill me just for blocking her path—stab me. What will she do after this?
“It’s Eidunn,” I blurt out.
“Eidunn, okay.” He leans on his knees, putting our eyes on the same level. He looks genuinely engaged, caring even. “Go on.”
“She… Have you… Have you noticed she’s been a little off lately?”
“Off? She’s been busy, sure. Maybe a little quieter than usual.”
“Yes, she’s been quiet, a little off. She opened up to me, made me promise not to tell, but…”
“By Odin, Kilda,” says Vidar as he raises himself to his full height, shaking his head. “Use your balls and say what you think.”
“Fine, I’ll just fucking say it. Njord is abusing Eidunn.”
Vidar’s eyes widen, like it’s the last thing he expected to hear. His brow furrows as he tosses a glance toward the men sitting on the wall.
“Njord?” he says, now keeping his voice low. “Njord my warrior?”
“Yes… he’s been… forcing her.”
“Forcing her? To do what?”
“You know what I mean, forcing her.”
Vidar snorts, a smile of disbelief spreading on his face.
“Ridiculous, Njord can pick any girl he wants.”
“Well, Eidunn said—”
“Njord is even courting a freewoman. He’s in discussions with her father about marriage.”
“So?”
“So? Why would he be forcing Eidunn?”
“He charmed her first, then when she didn’t want to lie with him, he—”
“Honestly, Kilda…” He shakes his head, disappointment on his face.
“Eidunn said—”
“Eidunn says many things,” says Vidar, his voice hardening. “It won’t be the first time she’s exaggerated.”
I can’t believe my ears. Is he claiming Eidunn is a liar? She’s respected by every thrall girl. Never have I heard such a thing uttered about her.
“Are you serious?” I say, my voice wavering.
“Are you? If he charmed her, and succeeded, she wouldn’t be the first slave girl to be disappointed that a freeman won’t take her hand in marriage.”
Madness. It’s like Eidunn said. Men will blame her. Claim she regretted lifting her skirts. My stomach clenches as Vidar folds his arms.
“But… her lip is swollen, last night she—”
“Look, Kilda, I know Njord. I’ve seen him kill men, several of them.”
“Yes, but—”
“You’re making a very serious accusation. You will be disgracing a respected man. Make sure it’s the truth.”
“I swear it!” I shriek, unable to contain myself.
Vidar looks at the other men.
“Keep your voice down, woman,” he says. “I thought you had more self-control than this.”
I breathe deep, briefly closing my eyes to recenter myself.
“I want to help Eidunn,” I state.
“Eidunn is a big girl, and Njord is a bigger man. I would advise you to—”
“So you won’t help me?”
“Don’t interrupt me, Kilda. Know your place.”
My jaw drops. His expression is stern, punitive. Gone is the shining smile carried by the dashing man who wanted to charm me—who did charm me. I hold my tongue as he continues.
“I would advise you to let this be. Eidunn is fine. Njord would never force himself on any girl, even if it were his right.”
“His right?”
Vidar takes a step toward his men.
“I don’t want to hear of this again, Kilda.” He raises a finger at me. “Don’t put me to shame by dishonoring my men.”
“Put you to shame?” I whisper.
All my hopes are crumbling. Everything turns to shit. I’ve made it all worse. My role as Volva, defaced by my status as slave. Vidar was supposed to help me. Anything, he said. Anything at all. He raises his finger again.
“Remember, I’m the one who brought you here. I’m the one who protected you. The one who bought you.”