Chapter 49
It is day, but I am in bed. My face is covered by my blanket—I don’t want to breathe. A squeeze dominates my chest as I squirm, struggling to find comfort.
What have I done? Have I made it worse? What a stupid little girl I am, expecting men to stand up for women. Vidar has played me, charmed me, for what? To fuck me? To treat me like Njord does Eidunn?
She will hate me. I know it. She will come for me in the night. If they don’t punish me first, or punish her. How can it all crumble so fast? Eidunn warned me. She warned me not to do it. Mind my own business, that’s what she said.
I twist and turn in my bed. Who can I face? Who is my ally now?
Fuck!
I thought I had power. I thought I could help. Foolish girl. Stupid foolish girl.
My stomach rumbles. An empty bubble travels through my belly. I refuse to eat. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to live. Everything turns to shit.
I cry, heaving until my ribs hurt. Sobbing over the illusion I have been living, the false image of my growing role in a community I have begun to care for. Stupid fucking girl!
It’s clear now. Vidar made it crystal clear. Me. Eidunn. We are slaves. We are not to be cared for. Sigurd can pretend all he wants. We are in chains. If we run, they will find us, hurt us, kill us. Fucking animals.
How childish am I? An innocent fool. More innocent than Ragnhild. She called me a slave the first time I met her, and she knew it was true. Fantasies of freedom. Of natural power as a Volva. My gift. Freya. All piss in the river. Washed away. Let it burn.
Weeping cuts my breath. I sit up, choking on snot and wiping tears from my face. Fucking bastards. Hurting women. They have it coming. Fucking bastards have it coming.
An idea enters my mind. A soft memory. A meeting touched by fondness, free of manipulation. I will help Eidunn.
The skald. The mangy crow. He will help me. He will listen, at least.
I stand, not bothering to fix my dress nor my face. Slamming open my door, I storm barefoot toward Ari’s house. Faces turn to me, but I don’t look at them. I don’t know who they are. Fuck them if they would let Eidunn rot in the grip of an animal.
Let them stare. Fuck them.
I hammer the door. A few seconds pass. I hammer it again.
His voice, muffled and amused.
“By the gods, I’m coming.”
Ari opens. His face flips from a confused smile to concern.
“Kilda,” he says, glancing around at the people who are surely spying.
“Ari,” I say, unable to hide my fury.
“What’s wrong?”
“May I enter?”
“Of course.”
I step in, tossing myself on Ari’s bed and allowing myself to sob again. Look at me, the useless, sniveling mess. A foolish thrall.
Ari will help. He’s my only friend. I will tell him everything. I will tell him about Njord. I will tell him about Vidar. I will tell him about Eidunn.
I don’t care if I have to do it myself. In the night. A dagger to the heart or throat.
Njord is going to fucking die.