The Viking's Cursed Bride

by Mairibeth Macmillan

  “You have been out at Håkon’s farm every day.”

  “At your suggestion. Do you think I am to blame for this?”

  “You were sick yesterday and now the cattle are sick today. Perhaps those things are linked?”

  “If they are, then did you consider that maybe I am not to blame, that perhaps I am also a victim?”

  Tormod frowned, then grunted in acknowledgement.

  “I have visited Håkon’s farm at your bidding, tried to do everything you asked. I have worked with Magda, taught her my language, and tried to learn yours. Every day I have walked over there.” She stopped and waited until he looked at her. “I have looked after Elisedd, I said I would care for your son, I have willingly shared your bed, but it’s not enough, is it? I am sorry I am ill, perhaps for being with child when you don’t want another child… at least not with me.”

  He searched her face for any trace of deception and found none. “That is not—”

  “Tormod!” Ulf shouted from the corridor. When there was a loud banging on the door Tormod tutted, then stood up and strode towards it. “One moment,” he shouted, then leaned against the door and turned to face her. “Whatever you know, you must tell me now.”

  “I don’t know anything!”

  “What is killing the animals? Is that why you are sick or—”

  “Ragna thinks it is because I am with child.”

  “And you?”

  The pause before she spoke told him that there was more to be said. What was she not telling him? Why was she hiding some of the truth from him? Despite Ragna’s words, he felt a leaden weight gathering in his belly at the thought he’d been deceived again.

  “How would I know? I am newly married, I have never—” She looked at the ground.

  “Why were you beaten?”

  “What?”

  “Why were you beaten? Why were you sent to the abbey?”

  “I told you why.” She met his gaze once more and sounded sincere, but still his suspicion lingered.

  “You said that you became ill at Alt Clut and that was why your family left.”

  “Yes.”

  “And now you are sick again when something strange is happening. And there are the dreams as well.” Tormod stared at her. “Why would your family have you beaten for warning them and saving their lives? Why? Why won’t you tell me?”

  Aoife put her head on her knees and sobbed. “I-I… I’m sorry.”

  Tormod punched the door behind him and turned his back on her.

  Tormod had no idea whether he blamed Aoife for the problem or not. He pulled open the door, unsurprised to find his cousins waiting there.

  “Well?” Ulf asked, coming into the room and staring at Aoife. “What does she know?”

  “My wife says that she knows nothing.”

  Ulf scoffed.

  “I will go and see for myself,” said Tormod. “And then I will decide who is to blame.”

  “Let me come,” Aoife said.

  “But…”

  “You should bring her,” Arne said from the doorway. “She knows more about the plants and animals here than any of us.”

  Ulf whirled around. “And what if she is the cause?”

  Arne shook his head and rolled his eyes. “She is not the cause, Ulf.”

  “I have done nothing!” Aoife said, pushing herself unsteadily to her feet. “You blame me and accuse me and yet refuse to believe me when I speak the truth.”

  “Aoife…” Tormod began.

  “No! I dreamed of the animals; I don’t know why. Can you control your dreams? I have done nothing wrong. Why won’t you believe me?”

  “I believe you.” Arne’s voice made them both jump.

  “Leave us,” hissed Tormod. “This is between me and my wife.”

  “No, it is not. This affects us all,” Ulf said.

  “Aoife has knowledge none of the rest of us yet have and I, for one, am not willing to ignore that just because of your pride,” Arne interjected. “If you don’t wish Aoife to go, then I will take her. We will leave as soon as you are able.”

  Taken aback, Tormod faced his wife. “I believe what you have told me,” he said after a moment. Her head shot up and he saw the surprise on her face. “But I don’t believe you have told me everything. Tell me the truth. All of it.”

  She pursed her lips and shook her head.

  “Why can you not tell me the truth?”

  “I am afraid.”

  “Afraid of what? Me? I will not harm you for telling me the truth.”

  “Can you promise that?” Aoife asked. “Can Ulf?”

  Tormod frowned. “Yes.”

  Ulf’s expression remained blank.

  She almost smiled, then the fear returned. “You don’t know what the truth is yet.”

  There was silence for a long moment. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her mouth started to move, there was more to be said.

  “I know nothing about why the animals are sick,” she said.

  Ulf scoffed.

  Tormod’s heart sank and a coldness descended over him.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “I will deal with you later.”

  * * *

  Aoife looked from Tormod to Ulf. The same distrust was visible on both their faces. Should she tell them her secret? Did she have any other choice? She swallowed, unsure whether she was doing the right thing or not. Was everyone in her life destined to turn against her? She was indeed cursed. Cursed if she told the truth, cursed if she didn’t. It was true she didn’t know why the animals were sick, but as Håkon’s farm was the most easily accessible from her father’s land, it was only reasonable the Norsemen were making the assumptions they were. Either she had done something to cause the sickness, or she knew that her father had planned to do so. It didn’t matter that neither was true.

  Her father had sacrificed her for the sake of Ula and her children. She should have let them die at Alt Clut. She pushed the uncharitable thought aside. No, she would never behave as badly as Ula. Though perhaps Ula would have preferred to die than to suffer the dishonour and suspicion that had followed them ever since the night of the feast. Aoife realised now there was simply no way to fix the problem. The only things she could do were tell Tormod, trust him, and hope.

  “I will come with you to Håkon’s farm,” she said to Tormod. “And then I will tell you everything. But only to you. I will accept whatever decision you make then, but first let me see if I can help.” She glanced from one man to the other. Tormod looked confused, while Ulf’s expression gave nothing away.

  “Can you ride?” Arne asked her and she was grateful for his presence as he seemed to believe in her innocence. “Or will I hitch the cart?”

  “I would prefer the cart.”

  “I can look after my own wife, Arne,” Tormod said.

  “Just be sure you do,” Arne said as he headed for the door.

  “And make sure it is not one of us who suffers this time if you are wrong,” Ulf added.

  “I will make sure you do not suffer, Ulf,” Tormod said as his cousin left the room.

  Aoife tried to work out what was going on, but there was something she did not yet know, some piece of the puzzle she did not yet understand. “What happened with your first wife? Her death was not the problem, was it?” Aoife asked.

  “If you are not ready to share your secrets, then I am not ready to share mine,” he said and turned away. “Come, we must go. We can talk of this later after we have been to the farm.”

  As the cart trundled into the farm, Aoife wished she had simply stayed in bed. While her feeling of sickness had not been so bad this morning, the odour of the farm and the beasts affected her. At the edge of the field, just where the beach met the land, there was a pile of animal carcasses, their tongues lolling out as she had seen in her vision.

  “Herre.” Håkon’s voice was urgent. “I fed them early this morning and then I heard the cries and came out to see them dying. All in this field are sick.”


  The farmer caught sight of Aoife and his face fell. He pointed a bony finger at her. “Why is she here? Perhaps she is the cause of this sickness. She has been here on most days.”

  A chill slid down Aoife’s spine. “I am not the cause.”

  “She might be able to help,” Arne said.

  Aoife alighted from the cart and headed towards the animals’ feed trough standing next to the path. It was mostly empty but she raked through it and withdrew a slender, white tuber. “Where did you get these roots?”

  “They were grown last winter to feed the herd.”

  “You grew these?” She waved it—it was a longer, narrower one than most of the others.

  “It’s a parsnip, so?”

  “It looks similar, but these are poisonous,” she said. “Did you put these in here?”

  Håkon looked at them carefully. “I don’t know. I am not sure.”

  “I will check the barn,” Björn said. “Show me where you keep the animal feed,” he instructed Håkon. The two hurried off towards the barn and returned a few minutes later with a handful of the poisonous roots.

  “They have been mixed through with the others,” Björn said. “It is definitely deliberate.”

  “We all know your people do not want us here,” said Håkon to Aoife.

  “I am not my people. And besides, why would I tell you about the roots? I could have said nothing and continued to let you feed them to your animals.”

  Tormod stepped up to Håkon. “Do you dare to accuse my wife?”

  “Wife? And are you sure that is how she sees it? She is not here merely as a spy, to ensure we fail? I heard she was sickly yesterday and now today the animals have also sickened. Her people say she is cursed. Everyone has heard the rumour. And the rumours she betrayed them, too.”

  “And where did you hear this? Who spreads these lies about my wife?” Tormod rushed over to Håkon, loomed over him. The farmer took a step back.

  Aoife grabbed Tormod’s arm, anxious to stop him doing something he might regret. She did not want Tormod damaging his status with his people for her sake. Not when it was not a lie.

  “T-there were traders just the other day, Britons. And the boy—I asked Elisedd and he told me these things were true.”

  “She is my wife,” said Tormod. “Do you wish to challenge me on this?”

  Håkon looked at Tormod, then at Aoife. “No. But nor do I wish to be made a fool of. Again.”

  Håkon started to turn away towards his fields, but Tormod pulled him around to face him. “What do you mean by that?”

  Now Aoife could see real fear in Håkon’s face.

  “Nothing, herre. Just that the Britons may have tricked… us.” Håkon gulped and lowered his gaze. Tormod let him go.

  Tormod stood for a moment, anger playing across his face.

  Aoife was surprised when Arne stepped forward. “No one has been tricked. It is just a coincidence that the animals became sick so soon after Lady Aoife. Besides, she has already shown how useful she is to us. You did not recognise the native plant as a poison, Håkon, but Aoife did.”

  “And my wife’s sickness has nothing to do with your animals and everything to do with me,” Tormod said. “Now check your animal feed. Set a better watch on your barn and your fields. Our new arrivals may have some amongst them eager for such work. Guard your farm and your animals more closely, Håkon.”

  Håkon looked at Ulf, who shrugged. “You are the closest farm to Cadell’s lands,” Ulf pointed out. “The easiest target, but we will ride around, check the other farms.”

  “Very well,” Tormod said.

  They watched as the cousins rode off, then Håkon took his leave, promising to mount a guard at all times. Aoife turned to her husband and he offered her his arm. She took it, and they started to walk away. She was grateful for the support as she felt a little unsteady. She closed her eyes, also grateful Arne had intervened when he had.

  For a long moment, Tormod said nothing. Then, “Håkon was right, though. I have been deceived again. I am not fit to be jarl.”

  Aoife stopped walking. “What? How can you even think that? You just said—”

  “If Håkon has no respect for me, then I have no right to lead. And what I say to my people is not the same as I will say in private, to my wife.” He started to walk away from her.

  “But you do,” she said, hurrying after him. “You have every right to lead. Your people are happy to follow you.”

  “Then tell me what it is you are keeping from me.” They stopped and faced each other.

  She stared at him. Once she told him, would he spare her life until he knew whether she carried his child or not? Or perhaps he would simply kill her, having no wish to have any child of his own be the spawn of a foreign devil.

  “Your dreams,” he prompted. “The field, the fire, the animals dying… You knew about all of it.”

  She took a step back. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t swallow, could barely breathe. Light-headedness overtook her and she swayed.

  He reached out and gripped her arm, then pulled her body firmly against his own. “Look at me.” It was a demand she had no choice but to obey. “You knew all of it before you were told.” A sudden screech made them both look up to see the two ravens circling above. Could they be the same ones? “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “About your dreams, about what you see, what you know,” Tormod said urgently, then let her go. “The ravens… they are with you. Why?”

  “I... I see things,” she said, taking a deep breath. “In dreams. In visions. I had a vision of the attack at Alt Clut and warned my family. They didn’t believe me, but were embarrassed because I had acted strangely at the king’s feast. We were the only ones who escaped before the siege. Afterwards, the others claimed we were in league with the Norsemen.”

  “And so your parents blamed you when the other nobles voiced their suspicions?”

  “Yes. And it was my fault.”

  “Because you had a vision?”

  “Yes, like this morning and just now. Sometimes it happens in a dream, a very vivid dream, where I can smell and taste the scene as if I am truly there. Other times the visions come upon me when I am awake. Sometimes I faint.”

  “You see the future?”

  “Only rarely. Sometimes it is the present, but in another place. I don’t know what I’m seeing. I can’t help it. What will you do to me?”

  He didn’t answer her. “Is this true?” He shook her gently.

  “Yes.” She tried to pull away, fearful he was going to break his promise not to hurt her and was shocked when instead, he leaned forward and kissed her.

  “A seer!” he said, laughing. “I can’t believe it. Why did you think I would punish you for that?”

  Her heart pounded. “You… you don’t think I’m evil?”

  “Evil?”

  “The Church, the priests, everyone. They whispered I was evil. The spawn of the devil. Had it not been for my father, I think Ula would have had me killed.”

  “But this is a gift. A skill few possess. And your people see it as evil?”

  “Maybe not in the past, but the Church… well, the Church sees things differently.”

  “Yes, I am aware of that, but I didn’t realise they would reject one of their own because of it. This is why you were beaten at the abbey?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your father must have welcomed handing you over to a Norseman to marry. Punishment for you and justice in the eyes of the Britons.”

  “I can only assume that is how he is regarding it,” she said. “Or rather, how Ula sees it.”

  Tormod laughed. His grip on her loosened, but he still held her close to him. “Your father has no idea what he has given away. And I am indeed a fortunate man. A seer. Now, tell me what else you have seen.”

  She frowned, still not quite believing his reaction. “Over the last two winters, most of my dreams were of darkness and storms and…” She stopped and l
aughed. “It is foolish.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It is nothing. A simple nightmare born of fear of a strange place. Thunder and bears, wolves and birds. The two ravens leading me to a circle of light, where I knew the bear and the wolf and the hawk waited for me. But I know there is a fourth presence. A man.”

  Tormod smiled at her. Then he threw back his head and laughed again, then kissed her soundly.

  Thankful his mood had lifted and he no longer seemed so angry, she kissed him back. His hands ran down her spine, letting her feel just how she affected him.

  He broke their kiss, smirking. “This man — you have seen him?”

  “No, never. I just know he is there. I feel him more than see him. I think he is the storm coming for me. The thunder. I can feel it in my bones. It engulfs me. And I don’t know whether to be afraid or not.”

  He stared into her eyes. “Good answer,” he said, smiling. “I am the thunder. Tormod, thunder. You have been dreaming of us all along. The bear, the wolf and the hawk. They are Björn, Ulf and Arne. That’s what those names mean.”

  She closed her eyes. Should she tell him now what she had seen? The four of them walking through her father’s fort, across the bodies of her people? And of her father lying dead? The sound of screaming and the cold fear of betrayal?

  “Then you must not go to Dun Cadell,” she whispered.

  “Why not?”

  “I saw you there,” she said. “There was blood, so much blood and you were walking across the bodies of the dead. My father was one of them.”

  Chapter Ten

  Tormod drove the cart back to the village in silence. It didn’t matter that they didn’t speak as Tormod knew they had reached a new understanding of one another. The way Aoife held firmly to his hand proved it.

  Tormod hadn’t replied to her request not to visit her father’s fort. Saying he would not go was a promise he could not keep. Sooner or later, he must, and he knew it would be sooner. He wanted to ask her more about her visions, but decided she had had enough for the day. Once they were well rested and well fed, he would ask her.

  A seer? It explained so much. He was relieved that was all she had been hiding from him. He could almost understand why, especially having seen the bruises on her body when she first arrived. One fist clenched around the reins at the memory.