Chapter 50
Ari steps out into the twilight. I follow.
“Are you sure?” I say.
Having offloaded my worries on Ari, I feel a little lighter.
The reality of the situation has settled in.
I am in a foreign valley. Ari too. We are outsiders.
He had laughed at my fantasies of murdering Njord in the night.
I would be caught, he said, either by Njord or by others after. Ari had another suggestion.
“I am sure,” he says.
“He will kill you.”
“He may try. Words are good for disarming even the worst of thugs, as long as they are spoken in public.”
I stumble after Ari. He is making a mistake, a fatal one. He is heading for the longhouse, where all the men have returned from their construction to drink ale and eat.
“Are you sure?” I ask again.
Ari stops and turns to me, staring me dead in the eyes as he whispers.
“I am sure. You do not seem so sure.”
“I’m afraid.”
“As you should be. You have already made enemies.”
“I only spoke to Vidar.”
“Ah yes, most honorable Vidar.”
He continues toward the longhouse. I follow.
“Won’t they kill you?” I ask, not caring to lower my voice.
He stops again, shaking his head in disbelief.
“There are laws, Kilda. They can’t just murder me.”
“But—”
“If everything goes to plan, Eidunn will be left alone. She may be a pariah for a while, but she will be left alone. Folk will have their eye on her and Njord, and Vidar too.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he’s already gone.
The doors to the hall are wide open. Ari walks in, his back straight and head held high. I walk in behind him, not as proud. I feel so small. This has escalated beyond anything I could have imagined. Why did I drag him into this? What if I get him killed?
“People of Opdal,” he announces, loud and proud. “Hear my words.”
Men and women pause their eating and turn to him.
Sigurd gives me a confused glance. I look away, ashamed of my betrayal. Maybe I should have asked him about this earlier today, when it was just us two. Everything has changed since then.
The skald walks to the warriors’ table. Vidar sits at its head. His face is cold, expressionless. He doesn’t even look at me. Dozens of eyes dart between me and the skald, but I ignore them. I can’t rip my eyes away from Ari as he clears his throat.
Ari begins. What have I done?
Some men of honor, live with fame
Their fate and glory are one and same
They battle waves, they bathe in blood
Their name is never dragged in mud
Everyone in the hall has stopped eating, stopped drinking. Some people hush others who won’t keep quiet. Everyone wants to know what is happening. What is coming. Only Vidar and his men, who Ari is standing over, keep eating and drinking, pretending Ari isn’t even there. But he is. He really is.
But other men, they live in shadows
In mud and shit is where they wallow
They beat on women, they make them bleed
But among men, fall on their knees
The room gasps at the words, but before the sound dies, Ari surprises everyone. Lightning fast, before I can blink, he grabs Njord’s knife and slams its blade into the table. Right in front of Njord.
Everyone understands the intention. They know who Ari is speaking of. The hall breaks into whispers. Some laugh, others pound their palms on the table. Some women look at Njord, their faces twisted with distaste.
“Well said,” shouts a man, to cheers from his table. I expected all the locals to oppose Ari, to hate us, but Vidar and his men aren’t loved by all.
Njord stands, raising his hands for silence. A tight smile crosses Vidar’s face as he observes his man, but he buries it quickly.
“Never,” says Njord. “Never has anyone spread such filth on my name.”
Many men cheer. The men around Vidar’s table pound it rhythmically. Ari is unmovable, filling the space. Vidar stays calm, watching Njord as he continues.
“I am not a poet,” he says, making several people chuckle. “But then, neither is this man.”
He points at Ari with his thumb. Men howl in laughter. The women, in their defense, seem less entertained. They heard Ari’s words.
“But,” says Njord over the crowd. “We are both men. Ari Skald, I challenge you to Holmgang.”
Gasps escape mouths all over the hall.
Ari squares his shoulders, folding his arms. No fear displayed, at all, in any way. How can he hope to stand in a duel against a seasoned warrior? A veteran of war?
“I accept!” His deep voice booms across the hall.
All heads turn to Sigurd. But I turn to leave. To get away. Maybe I should just run into the night. Disappear forever. Use the cloaking spell I haven’t mastered yet. I’m such a fool. A reckless, silly girl. The shittiest Volva. Sigurd’s voice rings through the room as I walk toward the exit.
“How will the victory be achieved? First blood or death?”
There is no pause. Njord’s voice rings out instantly.
“Death.”
A murmur fills the room as Ari answers.
“Death.”
Sigurd is silent, making me stop in my tracks. My chest falls into the bottomless pit of my stomach.
“It saddens me,” says Sigurd finally. “That one of these two men will die. Both are valued in Opdal.”
Tears run down my cheeks as Sigurd announces the time of Ari’s death. I can’t even bring myself to turn and look at him. I just want to escape.
“The Holmgang…” He pauses for what feels like an eternity. “…is at dawn. Tomorrow,” he shouts.
All the men cheer. They aren’t worried. They aren’t panicked. They are entertained.
It’s all over.
What have I done?